Lav. What of your Mistriss? I am full of bus'ness.
Mar. I will be short, my Lord; she, loving Lady,
Considering the unequal tie between ye,
And how your ruine with the Duke lay on it,
As also the most noble match now made,
By me sends back all links of marriage,
All Holy Vows, and Rights of Ceremony,
All promises, oaths, tears, and all such pawns
You left in hostage: only her love she cannot,
For that still follows ye, but not to hurt ye;
And still beholds ye Sir, but not to shame ye:
In recompence of which, this is her suit, Sir,
Her poor and last petition, but to grant her,
When weary nights have cloyed ye up with kisses,
(As such must come) the honor of a Mistriss,
The honor but to let her see those eyes,
(Those eyes she doats on, more than gods do goodness)
And but to kiss you only: with this prayer,
(a prayer only to awake your pity)
And on her knees she made it, that this night
You'ld bless her with your company at supper.
Lav. I like this well, and now I think on't better,
I'll make a present use from this occasion.
Mar. Nay, good my Lord, be not so cruel to her
Because she has been yours.
Lav. And to mine own end
A rare way I will work.
Mar. Can love for ever,
The Love of her (my Lord) so perish in ye?
As ye desire in your desires to prosper.
What gallant under Heaven, but Anjou's Heir then
Can brag so fair a Wife, and sweet a Mistriss?
Good noble Lord.
Lav. Ye mis-apply me, Mary,
Nor do I want true pity to your Lady:
Pity and love tell me, too much I have wrong'd her
To dare to see her more: yet if her sweetness
Can entertain a Mediation,
And it must be a great one that can cure me;
My love again, as far as honor bids me,
My service and my self—
Mar. That's nobly spoken.
Lav. Shall hourly see her; want shall never know her;
Nor where she has bestow'd her love, repent her.
Mar. Now whither drives he?