Zab. There they are together.—Now you may mark.
Hip. Peace, let 'em parly.
Arn. That you are well Zenocia, and once more Bless my despairing eyes, with your wisht presence, I thank the gods; but that I meet you here—
Hip. They are acquainted.
Zab. I found that secret Madam, When you co[m]manded her go home: pray hear 'em.
Zen. That you meet me here, ne're blush at that Arnoldo.
Your coming comes too late: I am a woman,
And one woman with another may be trusted;
Do you fear the house?
Arn. More than a fear, I know it, Know it not good, not honest.
Zen. What do you here then?
I'th' name of vertue why do you approach it?
Will you confess the doubt and yet pursue it?
Where have your eyes been wandring, my Arnoldo?
What constancy, what faith do you call this? Fie,
Aim at one wanton mark, and wound another?
I do confess, the Lady fair, most beauteous,
And able to betray a strong mans liberty,
[Leopold places himself unseen below.
But you that have a love, a wife—you do well
To deal thus wisely with me: yet Arnoldo,
Since you are pleas'd to study a new beauty,
And think this old and ill, beaten with misery,
Study a nobler way for shame to love me,
Wrong not her honesty.
Arn. You have confirm'd me.
Zen. Who though she be your wife, will never hinder you,
So much I rest a servant to your wishes,
And love your Loves, though they be my destructions,
No man shall know me, nor the share I have in thee,
No eye suspect I am able to prevent you,
For since I am a slave to this great Lady,
Whom I perceive you follow,