_ Not any.
And if I save him, will not the world proclaim,
I have forgot a Son, to save a murderer?
And yet he looks not like one, he looks manly.
_Hip._ Pity so brave a Gentleman should perish.
She cannot be so hard, so cruel hearted.
_Guio._ Will you pronounce? yet stay a little Sir.
_Rut._ Rid your self, Lady, of this misery;
And let me go, I do but breed more tempests,
With which you are already too much shaken.
_Guio._ Do now, pronounce; I will not hear.
_Dua._ You shall not,
Yet turn and see good Madam.
_Gove._ Do not wonder.
'Tis he, restor'd again, thank the good Doctor,
Pray do not stand amaz'd, it is _Duarte_;
Is well, is safe again.
_Guio._ O my sweet Son,
I will not press my wonder now with questions--
Sir, I am sorry for that cruelty,
I urg'd against you.
_Rut._ Madam, it was but justice.
_Dua._ 'Tis [t]rue, the Doctor heal'd this body again,
But this man heal'd my soul, made my minde perfect,
The good sharp lessons his sword read to me, sav'd me;
For which, if you lov'd me, dear Mother,
Honour and love this man.
_Guio._ You sent this letter?
_Rut._ My boldness makes me blush now.
_Guio._ I'le wipe off that,
And with this kiss, I take you for my husband,
Your wooing's done Sir; I believe you love me,
And that's the wealth I look for now.
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