Duke. 'Twill be in vain, my lord; I cannot grant it.
O Amphelia, how many hours of joy
We two have lost!
Amph. Base lord!
Enter Artabella.
Art. O sir, I heard that people were to die
To-day; let me be one, I pray.
Amph. Not for
The world, sweet innocent.
Art. O madam, you are she
The duke loves. Pray spare your pity, sir; can
You have the heart to let me live, and see
You married to another?
Amph. Have patience,
Sweet young maid, I will not marry him; you won't
Blame me, if I love him, though?
Art. No;
For then I should condemn my fault in you.
Duke. But sure, Amphelia, you did but jest,
In telling her you would not marry me?
Amph. Indeed, sir, I am in earnest; consider
It is but justice; she loves you as well
As I: her heart was quiet till you troubled
It.