Thier. Oh thou dost throw charms upon me, against which
I cannot stop my ears, bear witness heaven
That not desire of life, nor love of pleasure
Nor any future comforts, but to give
Peace to her blessed spirit in satisfying
Her last demand, makes me defer our meeting,
Which in my choice, and suddain choice shall be
To all apparent.
Brun. How? doe I remove one mischief
To draw upon my head a greater?
Thier. Go, thou only good man, to whom for her self
Goodness is dear, and prepare to interr it
In her that was; oh my heart! my Ordella,
A monument worthy to be the casket
Of such a jewel.
Mart. Your command that makes way
Unto my absence is a welcome one,
For but your self there's nothing here Martel,
Can take delight to look on; yet some comfort
Goes back with me to her, who though she want it
Deserves all blessings. [Exit.
Brun. So soon to forget
The loss of such a wife, believe it will
Be censur'd in the world.
Thier. Pray you no more,
There is no argment you can use to cross it,
But does increase in me such a suspition
I would not cherish—who's that?
Enter Memberge.
Memb. One, no guard
Can put back from access, whose tongue no threats
Nor praises can silence, a bold suitor, and
For that which if you are your self, a King,
You were made so to grant it, Justice, Justice.
Thier. With what assurance dare you hope for that
Which is deny'd to me? or how can I
Stand bound to be just, unto such as are
Beneath me, that find none from those that are
Above me?
Memb. There is justice, 'twere unfit
That any thing but vengeance should fall on him,
That by his giving way to more than murther,
(For my dear fathers death was parricide)
Makes it his own.