Mom. My Lords, take witnes of an absolute wonder, A marriage made for vertue, onely vertue: My friend, and my deere Neece are man and wife.
Fur. A wonder of mine honour, and withall A worthy presedent for all the World; Heaven blesse you for it, Lady, and your choyce.
Ambo. Thankes, my good Lord.
Ta. An Accident that will make pollicie blush,
And all the Complements of wealth and state,
In the succesfull and unnumbred Race
That shall flow from it, fild with fame and grace.
Ki. So may it speed deere Countesse, worthy Clarence.
Ambo. Thankes, good sir Cuthberd.
Fur. Captaine be not dismaid, Ile marrie thee, For while we live, thou shalt my consort be.
Foul. By France my Lord, I am not griev'd a whit, Since Clarence hath her; he hath bin in Fraunce, And therefore merits her if she were better.
Mom. Then, Knights, ile knit your happie nuptial knots.
I know the Ladies minds better then you;
Tho my rare Neece hath chose for vertue only,
Yet some more wise then some, they chuse for both,
Vertue and wealth.
Eug. Nay, uncle, then I plead This goes with my choise, Some more wise then some, For onely vertues choise is truest wisedome.