I draw to grave and nought can leave of thee to be desired,
As much as duty to thy dear, as reason hath required:
My sovereign[156] lord and friendly pheer[157] Virginius, father thine,
To nurse as doth become a child, when bones are buried mine.
Virginia.[158] Refell your mind of mourning plaints, dear mother, rest your mind,
For though that duty dainty were, dame nature will me bind
So much to do; and further force of Gods that rule the skies,
The Globe,[159] and eke the Element, they would me else despise.
Mater. Then if the gods have granted thee such grace to love thy sire,
When time shall choose thee out a make, be constant, I require: