The lists set up. Enter the Marshal, Crispiano, and
Ariosto as judges, they sit. [With them Sanitonella.]

Marshall:
Give the appellant his summons. Do the like
To the defendant.

Two tuckets sounded by several trumpets. Enter at one door,
Ercole and Contarino, at the other, Romelio and Julio.

Can any of you
Allege ought, why the combat should not proceed?

Combatants:
Nothing.

Ariosto:
Have the knights weigh'd and measured
Their weapons?

Marshall:
They have.

Ariosto:
Proceed then to the battle,
And may heaven determine the right.
Herald:
Soit [la] bataille, et [victoire) a ceux qu[i ont] droit.

Romelio:
Stay, I do not well know whither I am going:
'Twere needful therefore, though at the last gasp,
To have some churchman's prayer. Run I pray thee,
To Castle Novo; this key will release
A Capuchin and my mother, whom I shut
Into a turret; bid them make haste, and pray,
I may be dead ere he comes.

Exit attendant.

Now, [Victoire] a ceux qu[i ont] droit.
The combat continued to a good length, when enters
Leonora, and the Capuchin.

Leonora:
Hold, hold, for heaven's sake hold!

Ariosto:
What are these that interrupt the combat?
Away to prison with them.

Capuchin:
We have been prisoners too long:
O sir, what mean you? Contarino's living.
Ercole:
Living!

Capuchin:
Behold him living.

Ercole:
You were but now my second, now I make you
Myself for ever.

They embrace.

Leonora: O here's one between,
Claims to be nearer.

Contarino:
And to you, dear lady,
I have entirely vowed my life.

Romelio:
If I do not
Dream, I am happy too.

Ariosto:
How insolently
Has this high court of honour been abus'd!
Enter Angiolella, veil'd, and Jolenta, her face colour'd
like a Moor, the two Surgeons, one of them like a Jew.

How now, who are these?

Second Surgeon:
A couple of strange fowl, and I the
falconer
That have sprung them. This is a white nun,
Of the Order of Saint Clare; and this a black one,
You'll take my word for't.

[He] discovers Jolenta.

Ariosto:
She's a black one indeed.

Jolenta:
Like or dislike me, choose you whether;
The down upon the raven's feather
Is as gentle and as sleek,
As the mole on Venus' cheek.
Hence vain show! I only care,
To preserve my soul most fair.
Never mind the outward skin,
But the jewel that's within:
And though I want the crimson blood,
Angels boast my sisterhood.
Which of us now judge you whiter,
Her whose credit proves the lighter,
Or this black, and ebon hue,
That unstain'd, keeps fresh and true?
For I proclaim't without control,
There's no true beauty, but i'th' soul.

Ercole:
O 'tis the fair Jolenta; to what purpose
Are you thus eclips'd?

Jolenta:
Sir, I was running away
From the rumour of this combat: I fled likewise,
From the untrue report my brother spread
To his politic ends, that I was got with child.

Leonora:
Cease here all further scrutiny, this paper
Shall give unto the court each circumstance,
Of all these passages.

Ariosto:
No more: attend the sentence of the court.
Rareness and difficulty give estimation
To all things are i'th' world: you have met both
In these several passages: now it does remain,
That these so comical events be blasted
With no severity of sentence. You Romelio,
Shall first deliver to that gentleman,
Who stood your second, all those obligations
Wherein he stands engag'd to you, receiving
Only the principal.

Romelio:
I shall my lord.

Julio:
I thank you,
I have an humour now to go to sea
Against the pirates; and my only ambition
Is to have my ship furnish'd with a rare consort
Of music; and when I am pleased to be mad,
They shall play me Orlando.

Sanitonella:
You must lay in wait for the fiddlers,
They'll flyaway from the press like watermen.

Ariosto:
Next, you shall marry that nun.

Romelio:
Most willingly.

Angiolella:
O sir, you have been unkind,
But I do only wish, that this my shame
May warn all honest virgins, not to seek
The way to heaven, that is so wondrous steep,
Thorough those vows they are too frail to keep.

Ariosto:
Contarino, and Romelio, and yourself:
Shall for seven years maintain against the Turk
Six galleys. Leonora, Jolenta,
And Angiolella there, the beauteous nun,
For their vows' breach unto the monastery,
Shall build a monastery. Lastly, the two surgeons,
For concealing Contarino's recovery,
Shall exercise their art at their own charge,
For a twelvemonth in the galleys: so we leave you,
Wishing your future life may make good use
Of these events, since that these passages,
Which threat'ned ruin, built on rotten ground,
Are with Success beyond our wishes crown'd.

Exeunt omnes.