 | The Tragedy of Ovid |  |
Scena Tertia.
Enter Pyrontus, and Clorina.Clorina.
For shame (Pyrontus) cease to prosecute
A suit so much beneath your Honour, and
So prejudiciall to my Reputation:
I must not hear you.
Pyron.
What a misery,
To be condemn'd to an eternall Penury,
And be forbidden to complain! Fair, cruell
Clorina, do not so insult. Although
I am most wretched, it's in your power to make me
Happy, when you shall please to be but kind.
Clorina.
I am not of a salvage nature, neither
Ever rejoyc'd at any bodie's Grief,
I wish you all content, and ever did
A wife superiour unto me in all things.
Sink not beneath this passion of your Love.
You under-valued evermore your merits,
48
Pyron.
You abuse
The truest affection amorous heart did ever
Pay to his Mistriss, if you think I can
Efface your image in my soul. The Centre
Of this vast Globe we breathe on, is not faster
Fix'd then your Beauties here: Here in my Bosome
They fit triumphant. Ætna in its tornen-Entrals
Doth nourish lesser Flames, then burn me daily;
And yet you have no pitty for my sufferings.
Clorina.
Alas! what, would you have me make my self
A Beast, of such an horrid name I tremble
But to think of it? All the gods forbid,
Would you have her, whom you have cast away
Some kindness on, become an whore? My heart
Trembles to think upon't. And the swift Lightning
Of Blushes flies into my Cheeks. Me thinks
My tongue doth burn like fire within my Mouth,
Since it did mention so abhord a name.
Pyront.
Will you then never think me worth your mercy?
Shall the vain terrours of an empty name,
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Clorina.
You gods are Witnesses, that know my thoughts,
I would not, by the wrack of Chastity,
And proving to my marriage false, redeem
Thy self from the most cruell death that Tyrant
Did ever invent for his most hated enemy.
Pyron.
More merciless then worst of all those Tyrants!
Can you refuse a Courtesy to me,
Which my assiduous sevices may plead for?
And such an one, as can be never known,
Neither impoverish you in the least degree?
Reflect upon my misery, sweet Clorina,
And imitate the gods in Mercy.
Clorina.
Rather the Fiends, If I should be so wicked.
The Lord Pyrontus (whom I heretofore
Did look upon as a most noble Person,
Accomplish'd with the virtues) hath declar'd
Or Counterfeited himself an Atheist, to
Allure Clorina from her Purity.
The gods see every thing. Nature, nor Art,
Can any thing conceal from them. Thoughts which
Did never take the aire in words, to them
Discover'd lye: And is it not far worse,
To have the gods to see our Crimes then men?
Could I prove guilty of so foul a fault,
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A Bankrupt be in honor; which who wants
Is a companion fit for such wild people,
As never heard the name of virtue, Riches
Are Fortune's Trifles, neither altogether
To be despis'd, or doted on; but well us'd.
Poor Virtue is most rich. Virtue it self
Was (by the Ancients) held the great wealth.
Pyron.
In your Discourse you are too much Stoick:
Young Ladies hearts should not so utterly
Be void of all Compassion.
Clorina.
I must leave you,
Pyron.
Not without hope of Comfort, I beseech you,
Let me but tast of those sweet Delicacies.
You cloy Bassanes with, if it be possible
He can be satiated with such delights.
Clorina.
I trespass on my modesty to hear you.
Exit.
Pyron.
In a condition she so sad hath left me,
Joy is become an Exile from my heart.
To love and not be lov'd, is such a Curse
Jove (on his Foes) cannot inflict a worse
Exit.
| The Tragedy of Ovid | |