rightness.
I am of a solid temper, and like these
Steer on a constant course: with mine own sword,
If called into the field, I can make that right,
Which fearful enemies murmur'd at as wrong.
Nay, when my ears are pierc'd with widow's cries.
And undone orphans wash with tears my threshold,
I only think what 'tis, to have my daughter
Right Honourable; and 'tis a powerful charm,
Makes me insensible of remorse, or pity,
Or the least sting of conscience.
In one word, therefore,
Is it a match my lord?

_Lov._ I hope that is past doubt now.

_Sir G._ Then rest secure; not the hate of all mankind here,
Nor fear of what can fall on me hereafter,
Shall make me study aught but your advancement
One story higher. An earl! if gold can do it.
Dispute not my religion, nor my faith,
Though I am borne thus headlong to my will;
You may make choice of what belief you please,
To me thy are equal; so, my lord, good morrow.

[_Exit._

_Lov._ He's gone; I wonder how the earth can bear
Such a monster! I, that have liv'd a soldier,
And stood the enemy's violent charge undaunted,
To hear this horrid beast, I'm bath'd all over
In a cold sweat; yet, like a mountain, he
Is no more shaken than Olympus is,
When angry Boreas loads his double head
With sudden drifts of snow.

_Enter_ Lady Allworth.

_Lady A._ 'Save you, my lord.
Disturb I not your privacy?

_Lov._ No, good madam;
For your own sake, I am glad you came no sooner.
Since this bold, bad man, Sir Giles Overreach,
Made such a plain discovery of himself,
And read this morning such a devilish mattins.
That I should think it a sin, next to his,
But to repeat it.

_Lady A._ I ne'er press'd, my lord,
On others privacies; yet, against my will,
Walking, for health's sake, in the gallery
Adjoining to our lodgings, I was made
(So loud and vehement he was) partaker
Of his tempting offers. But,
My good lord, If I may use my freedom,
As to an honour'd friend----

_Lov._ You lessen else
Your favour to me.

_Lady A._ I dare then say thus:
(However common men
Make sordid wealth the object and sole end
Of their industrious aims), 'twill not agree
With those of noble blood, of fame and honour.

_Lov._ Madam, 'tis confess'd;
But what infer you from it?

_Lady A._ This, my lord: I allow
The heir of Sir Giles Overreach, Margaret,
A maid well qualified, and the richest match
Our north part can boast of; yet she cannot,
With all she brings with her fill their mouths,
That neve