Sulp. Stand close, you shall hear more.
Man. You must have patience; all rage is vain now,
And piety forbids, that we should question
What is decreed above, or ask a reason
Why heaven determines this or that way of us.
Clod. Heaven has no hand in't; 'tis a work of hell.
Her life hath been so innocent, all her actions
So free from the suspicion of crime,
As rather she deserves a Saints place here,
Than to endure, what now her sweetness suffers.
Char. Not for her fault, but mine Sir, Zenocia suffers: The sin I made, when I sought to rase down Arnoldo's love, built on a Rock of truth, Now to the height is punish'd. I profess, Had he no birth, nor parts, the present sorrow He now expresses for her, does deserve her Above all Kings, though such had been his rivals.
Clod. All ancient stories, of the love of Husbands To vertuous Wives, be now no more remembred.
Char. The tales of Turtles, ever be forgotten, Or, for his sake believ'd.
Man. I have heard, there has been
Between some married pairs, such sympathy,
That th' Husband has felt really the throws
His Wife then teeming suffers, this true grief
Confirms, 'tis not impossible.
Clod. We shall find Fit time for this hereafter; let's use now All possible means to help her.
Man. Care, nor cost, Nor what Physicians can do, shall be wanting; Make use of any means or men.
Char. You are noble. [Exeunt Man. Clod, and Char.