ligd me
And my respect to vertue, which in you
I should have murdred by my silence; but
I have not greife enough left to lament
The memory of her folly: I am growne
Barren of teares by weeping; but the spring
Is not yet quite exhausted. [_Weeps_.

_Bon_. Keepe your teares
Lest the full clouds, ambitious that their drops
Should mix with yours, unteeme their big wombd laps
And rayse a suddeine deluge. Gratious madam,
The oftner you reherse her losse the more
You intimate the gaine I have acquird
By your free bounty, which to me appeares
So farr transcending possibility
Of satisfaction that, unles you take
My selfe for payment, I can nere discharge
A debt so waytie.

_Lady_. Ist come to this?
You speake misteriously; explaine your meaning.

_Bon_. To consecrate, with that devotion
That holy Hermits immolate[94] theire prayers,
My selfe the adorer of your vertues.

_Lady_. Are you serious?

_Bon_. No scrupulous penitent, timerous that each thought
Should be a sinn, does to the priest lay ope
With halfe that verity his troubled soule
That I doe mine. I love you: in that word
Include all ceremony. No sooner had
Your information disingagd my heart
Of honoring your daughter, but amazd
At the immensnesse of the benefit
Your goodness had cast on me, I resolvd
This way to show my gratitude.

_Lady_. But dare you,
Knowing the daughter vicious, entertaine
Affection to the mother?

_Bon_. Dare I when
I have bin long opresd with a disease,
Wish pleasing health? theres vertue enough here
To excite beleife in _Moores_ that only women
Have heavenly soules.

_Lady_. This is admirable:
Did my intention tend to love, as soone
I should embrace your motion in that kind
As any others, wert but to afford
Some small lustracon for the wrong my daughter
Intended you; nay, to confesse my thought,
I feele a strong propension in my selfe
To yeild to you; but I am loath,[95]--your youth
Will quickly loath me.

_Enter Y[oung] Marlowe and Thurston_.

_Mar_. Madam, this Gent[leman]
Desires to have you know him for your son:
Tis he my sister _Clariana_, with your licence,
Wishes for husband.

_Lady_. A proper Gent[leman]; Ime happy she has made
So iuditious an election.[96]
You are very welcome, sir: conduct him in, Sonn.

[_Exeunt Young Marlowe and Thurston_.

_Bon_. Persuade me I can hate
Sleepe after tedious watching, or reiect
The wholesome ayre when I've bin long choakd up
With sicklie fogg