University of Virginia Library

Scæna Sixta.

At the other end enter Marciano, with him the Jaylor,
Mar.
A Lady, say'st thou?

Jayl.
Yes, my Lord, a young Lady.

Marc.
A Lady, and a Siennois,—strange!
Who can this be!—but now I have a thought,
Yet I dare not expresse it—can it be!
No, sure—impossible—prethee begone,
And leave me to my self—

Jayl.
She will be here by and by, my Lord.
Exit Jayl.

Marciano solus.
Marc.
Well, who this Lady is, I cannot think,
But in a dreame:—O, may I yet imagine,
'Tis she—Nay, hold—my hope cannot support
Enter Arabella quietly.
Such a strong thought of blesse! I shall offend
Even in thinking—
Marciano discovers her.
—A cheat—a meer cheat—eyes do not gull me.
The Lady Arabella!—No, unlesse
I heare her talk,—I'l think it still a phantasme
Approaches to her.
—Speak fair ghost—is it thee?

Ar.
Marciano, it is I, the unfortunat Arabella.

Marc.
Then it is no more I—O—how I am
Embraces her.
Transported! how that divine voyce hath ravished
My duller senses!—is't possible, you weep
In sympathy with my afflictions?

Ar.
Yea altogether.

Marc.
Good gods! it is she—O does Arabella,
Embraces again.
Who, while I was in full prosperity,
Did frown upon my Passions: stoop so low,
As see me now in misery—unlesse
She mean, as children, with their hobby-horses,
T'unravell me, that she may thereby see
What stuff I do contain:—dare I presume
To think that love to me hath brought you hither?

Ar.
Most true—nought else—

Marc.
Fair innocence, whose presence does revive
My spirits in this agony of sorrowes,
While I am coop'd up, as a parrot, here,
Expecting every day, when Atropos
Shall cut my threed of life; that you should daigne,
To visit me! had your fair hand dispatch'd
One word in post, it had been too great honour.
But thus to be thy own Embassadour,
Tis a bewitching happinesse; no tongue
Can well expresse my passion—good, my stars
Preserve me from an extasie!—

Ar.
You wrong me, Marciano, I left Siena,
Hearing of your bad successe; thence I came
To Luca; there not finding you, to Florence,
To see if I could purchase your enlargement,
Either by art, or favour: but no sooner
Was I come hither, when I was suspected
As one, who keep't secret intelligence
With the Dukes party here, and so committed—

Marc.
—Committed—how!—committd—heathnish wretches!
Barbarous Rebells! to imprison one,
Whom Indians had spar'd,—By Mars—unheard of
Even amongst Turks, and Tartars!

Ar.
Nay forbear,
I am not so unfortunate, as you think,
The Senate meaning thus to punish me
Have rather cherish'd me:—your company
May well allay my griefs.

Marc.
By this—and this—
Kisses her hand.
You honour me too much, but which is sad,
I never shall be able to repay
That love to you, which I owe, seing every hour
I doe expect my sentence—

Ar.
Alas! harsh fates! O frail reward of courage!

Enter Jaylor.
Jayl.
Madam, my duty bears me to conduct you to your
Chamber, it is now high time.

Ar.
My Lord, adieu, I shall see you to morrow.

Marciano Solus.
Exit with Jayl.
Marc.
Farewell, my souls delight,—O unkind Stars!
A fit theatre for such entertainement!
An embleme of our love!—But I exclaim
Unseasonably.—O how prettily
Fortune hath tyed me, as a Shrove-tide bird,
While Saturne, Mars and Cupid levell at me:
—A fig for all her tricks—I scorn her frown,
She can win nothing, while my hearts my own.

Exit.