Dua. You shall not, Yet turn and see good Madam.
Gove. Do not wonder.
'Tis he, restor'd again, thank the good Doctor,
Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is Duarte;
Is well, is safe again.
Guio. O my sweet Son,
I will not press my wonder now with questions—
Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
I urg'd against you.
Rut. Madam, it was but justice.
Dua. 'Tis [t]rue, the Doctor heal'd this body again,
But this man heal'd my soul, made my minde perfect,
The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
For which, if you lov'd me, dear Mother,
Honour and love this man.
Guio. You sent this letter?
Rut. My boldness makes me blush now.
Guio. I'le wipe off that,
And with this kiss, I take you for my husband,
Your wooing's done Sir; I believe you love me,
And that's the wealth I look for now.
Rut. You have it.
Dua. You have ended my desire to all my wishes.