Bravo. O, do not grate too much upon my suff'rings!
You have won upon my conscience, and I feel
A sting within me tells my troubled soul,
That I have trod too long those bloody paths,
That lead unto destruction.
Luc. Then be sorry,
And with repentance purge away thy sin.
Bravo. Will all my days and hours consum'd in prayers,
My eyes dissolv'd to tears, wash off such crimes?
Luc. If they be serious and continued.
Bravo. You are a virgin, and your vows are chaste;
Do you assist me.
Luc. So you'll do the like
For me in what I shall propose.
Bravo. I will,
And joy to be employ'd: there is no thought,
Which can proceed from you, but which is virtuous;
And 'tis a comfort and a kind of goodness
To mix with you in any action.
Luc. Nay more, in recompense of your fair proffer,
Because you say you are destitute of means,
I'll see that want supply'd.
Bravo. Divinest lady,
Command my service.
Luc. Walk then in with me,
And then I will acquaint you with the project. [Exeunt.