DUN. Thou art some sorcerer or necromancer,
Who by thy spells dost hold these holy strings.
CAS. Cannot your holiness unbind the bonds?
Then, I perceive, my skill is most of force.
You see, my lord, the abbot is but weak;
I am the man must do your daughter good.
MOR. What wilt thou ask for to work thy cure?
CAS. That without which I will not do the cure:
Herself to be my wife, for which intent
I came from Spain. Then, if she shall be mine,
Say so, or keep her else for ever dumb.
MOR. The Earl of Kent, mine honourable friend,
Hath to my daughter been a suitor long,
And much it would displease both her and him
To be prevented of their wished love.
Ask what thou wilt beside, and I will grant it.
CAS. Alas, my lord! what should the crazy earl
Do with so young a virgin as your daughter?
I dare stand to her choice 'twixt him and me.
LACY. And I will pawn mine earldom with my love,
And lose them both, if I lose Honorea.
CAS. A match, my lords! We'll stand unto the choice.
MOR. I am contented, if the earl be pleased.
LACY. I were not worthy of her, did I doubt.