Kath. So puissant in his fortitude with men, And daunted with a silly womans looks! How can that be?
Pem. Yes, when you weygh the force
Of your resistlesse and controwling beauty.
It is your beauty, were his power and spirit
Ten times more hauty-ventrous then it is,
Compels it stoope in homage to your foot
As trembling Lambs when they to Lions couch.
Kath. 'Twas well he chose so good an Orator To plead the imperfections of his cause.
Pem. I should have that opinion of my selfe If for my sake your Grace would favour him.
Kath. Yes, for your sake we have endur'd his name,
And for your sake we tolerate his suite;
But, when you cease to speake, then all that prayse
You have attributed to his desert
Seemes borrowed from your selfe; you are the man
Whose eloquence compares with Ciceroes,
You are the man whose knightly fortitude
Lives in the world unprejudic'd of any,
You vanquish beauty and inthrall the mind
Of female weaknesse with no lesser awe
Then Indian vassayles stoop unto their Lords.
The name of Ferdinand you have mista'ne.
Say tis your selfe, and then your whole discourse
Observes the perfect method that it should.
Pem. Should I be false and trecherous to my friend? I am intreated but to speake for him.
Kath. But for your selfe would be more acceptable.
Oh pardon me, nor let immodest stayne[116]
Cleave to my brow: my love is chastely bred.
Other then Pembrooke Katharine never vowes
Shall be authoriz'd in her mayden thoughts.
Pem. Mistake me not, I say tis Ferdinand Dyes in affection to your Deity.
Kath. But in affection I survive to none But onely Pembrooke.
Pem. Will you be esteem'd A cruel murdresse of a loyall friend?