_
_Enter_ Lewis, Brisac, Angellina, Sylvia, _Officers._
_Lew._ I'me deafe to all perswasions. _Bri._ I use none,
Nor doubt I, though a while my innocence suffers,
But when the King shall understand how false
Your malice hath inform'd him, he in justice
Must set me right againe. _Ang._ Sir, let not passion
So far[r]e transport you as to think in reason,
This violent course repaires, but ruins it;
That honour you would build up, you destroy;
What you would seeme to nourish, if respect
Of my preferment or my patern
May challenge your paternal love and care,
Why doe you, now good fortune has provided
A better husband for me than your hopes
Could ever fancy, strive to robb me of him?
In what is my Lord _Charles_ defective Sir?
Unless deep learning be a blemish in him,
Or well proportion'd limbs be mulcts in Nature,
Or what you onely aim'd at, large revenewes
Are on the sudden growne distastful to you,
Of what can you accuse him? _Lew._ Of a rape
Done to honour, which thy ravenous lust
Made the consent to. _Syl._ Her lust! you are her father.
_Lew._ And you her Bawd. _Syl._ Were you ten Lords, 'tis false,
The pureness of her chaste thoughts entertains not
Such spotted instruments. _Ang._ As I have a soule Sir.
_Lew._ I am not to be alter'd; to sit downe
With this disgrace, would argue me a Peasant,
And not borne noble: all rigour that the Law
And that encrease of power by favour yeelds,
Shall be with all severity inflicted;
You have the Kings hand for't; no Bayle will serve,
And therefore at your perils Officers, away with 'em.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178