Duke. All this is true; but how will your
Love show, if you refuse to marry me?
Amph. Not less at all, but make my pity more.
Duke. If I would marry her, I can't believe,
That she would be thus kind to you.
Amph. Yes, I dare say she would; ask her and try.
Duke. Well, Artabella, will you marry me?
Art. You never hated me till now; can you
Believe I'd wrong so blest a woman as
Amphelia?
Amph. See, sir, would it be justice now in me?
She will not wound my heart; should I kill hers?
Duke. But consider, 'tis you I love, not her.
Amph. That's her misfortune, sir, yet she deserves.
As much as I: I can but love you, so
Does she.
Duke. Dear Amphelia, marry me.