st on _Lucilia's_ lappe.
Ile helpe to shield you from the searching ayre
And keepe the colde dampes from your gentle bloud.

_Lass_. Pray thee, away; for, whilst thou art so neere,
No sleepe will seaze on my suspicious eyes.

_Luc_. Sleepe then, and I am pleazd far off to sit
Like to a poore and forlorne Sentinell,
Watching the unthankful sleepe that severs me
From my due part of rest deere love with thee.

_She sits farre off from him_.

_Enter Const. Dutchesse with a willowe garland, cum aliis_.

_Con_. Now are we neere the court of _Saxonie_,
Where the duke dreames such tragicall ostents.

_Amb_. I wonder we, now treading on his soile,
See none of his strange apparitions.

_Kath_. We are not worthy of such meanes divine,
Nor hath heaven care of our poore lives like his.
I must endure the end and show I live
Though this same plaintive wreathe doth show me forsaken.
Come, let us foorth.

_Const_. Stay, sister; what faire sight
Sits mourning in this desolate abode?

_Dut_. Faire sight indeed it is, and much to faire
To sit so sad and solitarie there.

_Con_. But what is he that cur-like sleepes alone?

_Dut_. Look, is it not my Nephew _Lassingbergh_?

_Amb_. Madame, 'tis hee.

_Dut_. Ile sure learne more of this.--
Lady, if strangers that [do] wish you well
May be so bould to aske, pray whats the cause
That you [so] more then strangely sit alone?

_Luc_. Madam, thus must forsaken creatures sit
Whose merits cannot make their loves consort them.

_Dut_. What a poore fellow in my miserie!
Welcome, sweet partner, and of favour tell me,
Is this some friend of yours that slumbers heere?

_Luc_. My husband (madame) and my selfe his friend,
But he of late unfriendly is to me.

_Con_. Sister, lets wake her friend.

_Dut_. No, let him sleepe;
And, gentle dame, if you will be rulde by me,
Ile teach you how to rule your friend in love:
Nor doubt you our acquaintance, for the man
Whom you so much affect is friend to us.

_Shee riseth_.

_Luc_. Pardon me, Madame; now I know your grace.

_Dut_. Then knowst thou one in fortune like thy selfe,
And one that tenders thy state as her owne.
Come, let our Nephew Lassingberg sleepe there,
And, gentle Neace, come you to court with us,
If you dare mixe your loves successe with mine.
I warrant you I counsell for the best.

_Luc_. I must not leave him now (madame) alone,
Whom thus long I ha