Am humbled fore thine Altar; O vouchsafe,With that thy rare greene eye, which never yet
Beheld thing maculate, looke on thy virgin;
And, sacred silver Mistris, lend thine eare
(Which nev’r heard scurrill terme, into whose port
Ne’re entred wanton found,) to my petition
Seasond with holy feare: This is my last
Of vestall office; I am bride habited,
But mayden harted, a husband I have pointed,
But doe not know him; out of two I should
Choose one and pray for his successe, but I
Am guiltlesse of election: of mine eyes,
Were I to loose one, they are equall precious,
I could doombe neither, that which perish’d should
Goe too’t unsentenc’d: Therefore, most modest Queene,
He of the two Pretenders, that best loves me
And has the truest title in’t, Let him
Take off my wheaten Gerland, or else grant
The fyle and qualitie I hold, I may
Continue in thy Band.
[Here the Hynde vanishes under the Altar: and in the place ascends
a Rose Tree, having one Rose upon it.]
See what our Generall of Ebbs and Flowes
Out from the bowells of her holy Altar
With sacred act advances! But one Rose:
If well inspird, this Battaile shal confound
Both these brave Knights, and I, a virgin flowre
Must grow alone unpluck’d.
[Here is heard a sodaine twang of Instruments, and the Rose fals\
from the Tree (which vanishes under the altar.)]
The flowre is falne, the Tree descends: O, Mistris,
Thou here dischargest me; I shall be gather’d:
I thinke so, but I know not thine owne will;
Vnclaspe thy Misterie.—I hope she’s pleas’d,
Her Signes were gratious. [They curtsey and Exeunt.]
Scaena 2. (A darkened Room in the Prison.) [Enter Doctor, Iaylor and Wooer, in habite of Palamon.]
DOCTOR.
Has this advice I told you, done any good upon her?
WOOER.
O very much; The maids that kept her company
Have halfe perswaded her that I am Palamon;
Within this halfe houre she came smiling to me,
And asked me what I would eate, and when I would kisse her:
I told her presently, and kist her twice.
DOCTOR.
Twas well done; twentie times had bin far better,
For there the cure lies mainely.
WOOER.
Then she told me
She would watch with me to night, for well she knew
What houre my fit would take me.
DOCTOR.
Let her doe so,
And when your fit comes, fit her home,
And presently.
WOOER.
She would have me sing.
DOCTOR.
You did so?
WOOER.
No.
DOCTOR.
Twas very ill done, then;
You should observe her ev’ry way.
WOOER.
Alas,
I have no voice, Sir, to confirme her that way.
DOCTOR.
That’s all one, if yee make a noyse;
If she intreate againe, doe any thing,—
Lye with her, if she aske you.
IAILOR.
Hoa, there, Doctor!
DOCTOR.
Yes, in the waie of cure.
IAILOR.
But first, by your leave,
I’th way of honestie.
DOCTOR.
That’s but a nicenesse,
Nev’r cast your child away for honestie;
Cure her first this way, then if shee will be honest,
She has the path before her.
IAILOR.
Thanke yee, Doctor.
DOCTOR.
Pray, bring her in,
And let’s see how shee is.
IAILOR.
I will, and tell her
Her Palamon staies for her: But, Doctor,
Me thinkes you are i’th wrong still. [Exit Iaylor.]
DOCTOR.
Goe, goe:
You Fathers are fine Fooles: her honesty?
And we should give her physicke till we finde that—
WOOER.
Why, doe you thinke she is not honest, Sir?
