 | The Queene of Corinth |  |
Scæna Prima.
Enter Merione (as newly ravished.)Mer.
To whom now shall I cry? What pow'r thus kneele to?
And beg my ravisht honour back upon me?
Deafe, deafe, you gods of goodnesse, deafe to me,
Deafe Heaven to all my cryes; deafe hope, deafe justice,
I am abus'd, and you that see all saw it;
Saw it, and smil'd upon the villaine did it:
Saw it, and gave him strength: why have I pray'd to ye,
When all the worlds eyes have been sunk in slumbers?
Why have I then powr'd out my teares? kneel'd to ye?
And from the Altar of a pure heart sent ye
Thoughts like your selves, white, innocent, vowes purer
And of a sweeter flame then all earths odours?
Why have I sung your praises, strew'd your Temples,
And Crown'd your holy Priests with Virgin Roses?
Is it we hold ye powerfull, to destroy us?
Beleeve, and honour ye, to see us ruin'd?
These teares of anger thus I sprinckle toward ye,
You that dare sleep secure whilst Virgins suffer,
These stick like Comets, blaze eternally,
Till with the wonder they have wak't your justice,
And forc't ye feare our curses, as we yours.
Enter Theanor, Crates with Vizards.
My shame still followes me, and still proclames me;
He turnes away in scorne, I am contemned too,
A more unmanly violence then the other;
Bitten, and flung away? What ere you are
Sir, you that have abus'd me, and now most basely
And sacrilegiously rob'd this faire Temple,
6
But one kinde loving look, be what ye will,
So from this hower you will be mine, my Husband;
And you his hand in mischiefe, I speake to you too,
Counsell him nobly now; you know the mischief,
The most unrighteous act he has done, perswade him,
Perswade him like a friend, knock at his Conscience
Till faire Repentance follow: yet be worthy of me,
And shew your self, if ever good thought guided ye,
You have had your foul will, make it yet fair with marriage;
Open your self and take me, wed me now:
Draws his Dagger.
More fruits of Villany? your Dagger? come
Ye are mercifull, I thank ye for your medicine:
Is that too worthy too?
Enter the rest disguis'd.
Devill, thou with him,
Thou penny Bawd to his Lust, will not that stir thee?
Do you work by tokens now? Be sure I live not,
For your owne safeties knaves. I will sit patiently:
But as ye are true Villaines, the Devills owne servants,
And those he loves and trusts, make it as bloody
An Act, of such true horrour Heaven would shake at,
'Twill shew the braver: goodnesse hold my hope fast,
And in thy mercies looke upon my ruines,
And then I am right: my eyes grow dead and heavy:
Enter sixe disguis'd, singing and dancing to a horrid Musick, and sprinkling water on her face.
Wrong me no more as ye are men.
The.
She is fast.
Cra.
Away with her.
Exeunt.
| The Queene of Corinth | |