Mart. All happiness to Thierry and Ordella.
Thier. 'Tis a desire but borrowed from me, my happiness
Shall be the period of all good mens wishes,
Which friends, nay dying Fathers shall bequeath,
And in my one give all: is there a duty
Belongs to any power of mine, or love
To any virtue I have right to? here, place it here,
Ordella's name shall only bear command,
Rule, Title, Sovereignty.
Brun. What passion sways my Son?
Thier. Oh Mother, she has doubled every good
The travel of your bloud made possible
To my glad being.
Prot. He should have done
Little to her, he is so light hearted.
Thier. Brother, friends, if honor unto shame
If wealth to want inlarge the present sense,
My joyes are unbounded, instead of question
Let it be envy, not bring a present
To the high offering of our mirth, Banquets, and Masques;
Keep waking our delights, mocking nights malice,
Whose dark brow would fright pleasure from us,
Our Court be but one st[a]ge of Revels, and each [e]ye
The Scene where our content moves.
Theod. There shall want
Nothing to express our shares in your delight, Sir.
Mart. Till now I ne'er repented the estate
Of Widower.
Thier. Musick, why art thou so slow voic'd? it staies thy presence
My Ordella, this chamber is a sphere
Too narrow for thy all-moving virtue.
Make way, free way I say;
Who must alone, her Sexes want supply,
Had need to have a room both large and high.
Mart. This passion's above utterance.