Lady W. How does your ladyship?
I was in hope to-day we should have seen you
A joyful bride.
Lady C. Ah, madam! 'twas my folly
To dream of such a thing; 'tis that has brought me
To all this sorrow, and undone me quite.
Lady W. I hope not so. But, madam, I confess
The marriage could have done you little good:
One of your years, and then a man so old!
Lady C. O, do not mention it; I am justly punish'd.
Lady W. Pardon me, madam; I must make so bold
As leave you for a while. Come, Master Barnet,
Shall we go see the party?
Bar. I wait you, madam. [Exeunt.
Lady C. My sorrow will not leave me. But, alas!
'Tis a deserved punishment I suffer
For my unjust oppressions; I detain'd
Scudmore's estate injuriously, and had
No conscience to restore what was not mine,
And now all's ta'en away! What then I would not,
I cannot now perform, though I desire.
Enter Freeman, Artemia.
Free. Fear not, Artemia, there shall no means
Be left untri'd to save the gentleman.
I did approve thy choice, and still will do,
If fortune will consent. My Lady Covet,
Are you sad still?
Lady C. Never had any woman
A greater cause of sorrow, Master Freeman;
For I protest it does not trouble me
So much, that by this cheat I lose the power
Of my estate, as that I lose all means
Of charity or restitution
To any person whom I wrong'd before.