Raphael. Which coold not stand
But that her vertue guards it and protects it
From blastinges and heavens thunders. There shee lyves
Lyke to a ritche and pretious Jewell lost,
Fownd shyninge on a doonge-hill, yet the gemme
No wyse disparadged of his former worthe
Nor bated of his glory; out of this fyre
Of lust and black temptation sheis [sic] returned
Lyke gold repur'd and tryde.
Treadway. Of what byrthe is shee?
Raphael. Unknwne to mee or any: shee protests,
Neye to her self; what neede I question that?
Sure sutche sweete features, goodnes, modesty
Such gentlenes, such vertue cannot bee
Deryvd from base and obscure parentadge.
Treadway. Whats then your end and purpose?
Raphael. To redeeme her
Out of this gayle of sinne and leprosye,
This mart of all diseases, where shee lyves
Still under the comande and Tyrany
Of a most base hee-bawde: about which busines
Wee have allready traffict.
Treadway. Well, if so,
And to dispose her elsewhere to her goodd,
Provided still that vertue be your ayme,
I cannot but commende your charity
And to my power I'l seeke to further it.
Raphael. You so intyre mee to you. Within theire!
Enter the Clowne.
Clowne. Within theire is nowe without heare: your worshipps pleasure?
Raphael. Hye to the next key and inquire for one cald Seignior Mildewe and resolve him from mee that I have kept apointment: the somms redy and present to bee tendred.