Mir. No, dear friend, be quiet,
And be at peace a while.

Bel. I’ll walk aside,
And come again anon. But take heed to her:
You say she is a woman?

Mir. Yes.

Bel. Take great heed;
For if she do not cozen thee, then hang me.
Let her be mad, or what she will, she’ll cheat thee!

[Exit.

Mir. Away, wild fool!—How vile this shows in him now!
Now take my faith (before ye all I speak it)
And with it my repentant love.

La Ca. This seems well.

Mir. Were but this lady clear again, whose sorrows
My very heart melts for, were she but perfect
(For thus to marry her would be two miseries),
Before the richest and the noblest beauty,
France, or the world could show me, I would take her:
As she now is, my tears and prayers shall wed her.

De Ga. This makes some small amends.

Ros. She beckons to you:
To us too, to go off.

Nant. Let’s draw aside all.

[Exeunt all but Oriana and Mirabel.

Ori. Oh, my best friend! I would fain—

Mir. What! She speaks well,
And with another voice.

Ori. But I am fearful,
And shame a little stops my tongue—

Mir. Speak boldly.

Ori. Tell you, I am well, I am perfect well (pray you mock not);
And that I did this to provoke your nature;
Out of my infinite and restless love,
To win your pity. Pardon me!

Mir. Go forward:
Who set you on?

Ori. None, as I live, no creature;
Not any knew, or ever dream’d what I meant.
Will you be mine?

Mir. ’Tis true, I pity you;
But when I marry you, you must be wiser.
Nothing but tricks? devices?

Ori. Will you shame me?

Mir. Yes, marry, will I.—Come near, come near! a miracle!
The woman’s well; she was only made for marriage,
Stark mad to be stoned to death; give her good counsel.—
Will this world never mend?—Are you caught, damsel?

Enter Belleur, La Castre, Lugier, Nantolet, De Gard, Rosalura, and Lillia.

Bel. How goes it now?

Mir. Thou art a kind of prophet;
The woman’s well again, and would have gull’d me;
Well, excellent well, and not a taint upon her.