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_Octa_.

If that you lov'd _Ascanio_ for himself, And not your private ends, you rather should Bless the fair opportunity, that restores him To his Birth-right, and the Honours he was born to, Than grieve at his good Fortune.

_Jac_.

Grieve, _Octavio_?

I would resign my Essence, that he were As happy as my love could fashion him, Though every blessing that should fall on him, Might prove a curse to me: my sorrow springs Out of my fear and doubt he is not safe.

I am acquainted with _Don Henrique_'s nature, And I have heard too much the fiery temper Of Madam _Violante_: can you think That she, that almost is at war with Heaven For being barren, will with equal eyes Behold a Son of mine?

_Octa_.

His Father's care, That for the want of Issue, took him home, (Though with the forfeiture of his own fame) Will look unto his safety.

_Jac_.

Step-mothers Have many eyes, to find a way to mischief, Though blind to goodness.

_Enter_ Jamie _and_ Ascanio.

_Octa_.

Here comes _Don Jamie_, And with him our _Ascanio_.

_Jam_.

Good youth leave me, I know thou art forbid my company, And only to be seen with me, will call on Thy Fathers anger.

[_Asc_.]

Sir, if that to serve you Could lose me any thing (as indeed it cannot) I still would follow you. Alas I was born To do you hurt, but not to help my self, I was, for some particular end, took home, But am cast off again.

_Jam_.

Is't possible?

_Asc_.

The Lady, whom my Father calls his Wife, Abhors my sight, is sick of me, and forc'd him To turn me out of doors.

_Jac_.

By my best hopes I thank her cruelty, for it comes near A saving Charity.

_Asc_.

I am only happy That yet I can relieve you, 'pray you share: My Father's wondrous kind, and promises That I should be supplied: but sure the Lady Is a malicious Woman, and I fear Means me no good.

_Enter_ Servant.

_Jam_.

I am turn'd a stone with wonder, And know not what to think.

_Ser_.

From my Lady, Your private ear, and this--

_Jam_.

New Miracles?

_Ser_.

She says, if you dare make your self a Fortune, She will propose the means; my Lord _Don Henrique_ Is now from home, and she alone expects you, If you dare trust her, so, if not despair of A second offer.

[_Exit_.

_Jam_.

Though there were an Ambush Laid for my life, I'le on and sound this secret.

Retire thee, my _Ascanio_, with thy Mother: But stir not forth, some great design's on foot, Fall what can fall, if e're the Sun be set I see you not, give me for dead.

_Asc_.

We will expect you, And those bless'd Angels, that love goodness, guard you.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENA V.

_Enter_ Lopez _and_ Bartolus.

_Bar_.

Is't possible he should be rich?

_Lop_.

Most possible, He hath been long, though he had but little gettings, Drawing together, Sir.

_Bar_.

Accounted a poor Sexton, Honest poor _Diego_.

_Lop_.

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