University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—GROVE NEAR THE PALACE.
Enter Dunwarro and Marcella.
Dunwarro.
Thy father's prudence I perceive in thee,
Who of a doubt a certainty hast made,
At least on safety's side.

Marcella.
The sacrifice!
To me Prince Porreo now is lost for ever!
He'll not forgive what I could not omit!

Dunwarro.
Herein thou shouldst have sought my counsel first,
Who warned thee against loving, though not much,
Not dreading much his influence, form or manners—
But time has bettered . . .

Marcella.
No—my grandsire's skill—
Nor took I slender care to woo him on
To gentler arts.

Dunwarro.
Marcella! my sweet daughter!
How like thy blessèd mother, when she lived—
A flower that made elysium of the earth—
Soon lost to me, my child! What could I do,
But leave thee, an infant to thy grandam's care,
While here at Britain's court I shook off grief,
In chasing fortune? Ah! how oft the love
Of this world's power or goods is but a mock,
Hiding the countenance of that other world—
A world of holy sighs, of secret tears,
And thoughts whose consecration is a veil
More sacred than a vestal's.
How now, Philander?

Enter Philander.
Philander.
The queen would see Marcella.

Dunwarro.
She shall come.
[Exit Philander.
Marcella! to thy duty. I'll to mine.

[Exeunt at different sides.