Phi. It is a woman Sir, hark Gentlemen!
It is a woman. Arethusa take
My soul into thy breast, that would be gone
With joy: it is a woman, thou art fair,
And vertuous still to ages, in despight of malice.
King. Speak you, where lies his shame?
Bell. I am his Daughter.
Phi. The Gods are just.
Di. I dare accuse none, but before you two
The vertue of our age, I bend my knee
For mercy.
Phi. Take it freely; for I know,
Though what thou didst were undiscreetly done,
'Twas meant well.
Are. And for me,
I have a power to pardon sins as oft
As any man has power to wrong me.
Cle. Noble and worthy.
Phi. But Bellario,
(For I must call thee still so) tell me why
Thou didst conceal thy Sex, it was a fault,
A fault Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweigh'd it: All these Jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discovered,
What now we know.