University of Virginia Library

SCENA PRIMA.

Carlos, Isabella.
In a hall of Carlos house.
Carlos.
Whom see I here? misfottune! oh unluckie
Encounter! but, perhaps, I am deceiv'd,
Is it you, Isabella?

Isabella.
Strang? what heare I?
Ist possible that Carlos should not know me?
Are all my features suddenlie defaced?
No, they remaine yet, onelie I have cause
To thinke that they are raz'd out of thy memorie

Carlos.
Oh, Madame, this suspition is unjust,
I will upon this point tell you the truth
With all sinceritie.

Isabella.
Pray, what sinceritie
Can one expect from you?

Carlos.
Condemne me not
Before you heare me: I had a designe
Which prospered not, my intent was to bring
Another woman here, and I confesse
That I am sorrie now to see you Madame,
In her place, your faire presence is indead
A trouble at this time. But—

Isabella.
It sufficeth,
Ingratefull, thy crime is acknowledged,
And more sincerely then I could have thought.

Carlos.
Suffer me to expresse my selfe.

Isabella.
It needs not,
What explication can be more cleer?

Carlos.
Heare what remaines.

Isabella.
No, I will heare no more,
All thy disguisements are superfluous.

Carlos.
But know—

Isabella.
What should I know more? hast thou not
Tould me that thy soule's fleeting, thou intende'st
To bring another Woman here, thou wilt
That I believe it, and I doe believe it.

Carlos.
I have not.—

Isabella.
True, thou hast not anything
For me but coldnes, and presumption;
To see me in her place, thou sayst, th'art sorrie,
And with an unjust passion thy salfe spirit
Carried away, goes from inconstancie
To incivilitie.

Carlos.
Give me leave to speake.

Isabella.
What canst thou say unto me?
That thou acknowledgest the Empire of
A Worthier object, that in vaine thy heart
Hath stood against her charmes, and that to gaine thee
I have too little beautie?

Carlos.
Oh deceive not
Your selfe with so much art, and I beseech you
Be lesse unjust to my poore heart that loves you.

Isabella.
In losing such a heart as thine, I shall
Lose little, it is faithles, base, and treacherous,
And I pretend not any thing unto it;
Adiew.

Carlos.
What without hearing me, oh stay,
I doe beseech you, stay.

Isabella.
My presence here
Doth trouble you.

Carlos.
It is a reall truth.

Isabella.
A reall truth,
Ingratefull?

Carlos.
You shall not goe forth before
Y'ave heard me, suffer me upon this point
T'expresse my thought.

Isabella.
I should againe be troubled
With thy discourse.

Carlos.
What I shall say unto you
Can easilie be verified.

Isabella.
No, no,
I forbid thee to justifie thy selfe.

Carlos.
For the last time yet give me leave to say,
That it is you alone whom I adore,
That I am wholy yours.

Isabella.
Well, let me see then,
If I have any power yet in thy soul.

Carlos.
Madame, commaund, you shall be satisfied.

Isabella.
Say nothing more then to excuse thy selfe,
And leave me to depart. this I command,
Obey me in this point.

Carlos.
For such a perfect Lover as I am,
It is a crime t'obey too readilie.

Isabella.
No, no, I have some power upon thy spirit,
Shew thy respect by thy obedience,

Carlos.
Love by respect is verie ill expressd,
Who can obey well, knowerh not ro love,
This favourable councell, cruell Beautie,
Was given to Carlos.

Isabella.
Yes to Carlos faithfull,
But this fatall advise, whereof thou dost
Presume so much, was never given vnto
Carlos inconstant,

Carlos.
Madame, what's my crime?

Isabella,
Ingratefull, I will tell it thee, tis true
I had for thee something about my heart
That savoured of tendernes and that
I know not what began to differ little
From the toy called Love; at last I was
Tainted with that disease, when for my punishmēt
I knew my love produced but thy hate;
True, thou feel'st it no more, now that thou seest
That I am touch'd; I become trouble some
To him that's deare to me; now that my flame
Appeares, thine is consumed, and beginning
To love, I cease to be belov'd. Belov'd?
what have I said'? I learne by the effects,
That thou feignest alwaies, and did'st never love me
What canst thou answeare to excuse thy selfe.
So just a reproach cannot but confound thee;
Thou striv'st not more to justifie thy selfe,
Thy silence speaks thee guilty and confounded.

Carlos.
This trouble which appeareth in my countenance
Proceeds from your injustice, not my crime.

Isabella.
What have I said here which thou canst deny?
Defend thy selfe.

Carlos.
You have forbidden me
To justifie my selfe, I feare you would be
Offended still with my discourse.

Isabella.
No, no
Speak, Carlos, now my anger's vanished;
Although thou shouldst be false, and prove inconstant
In such a high degree as to betray me,
I might cōplaine thereof, but could not hate thee
And whatsoever change thy heart should make.
I should excuse thee if thou didst desire it.

Carlos.
Vpon your faire hands for this sweet expression,
Let me imprint my joy, and my resentment.

He kisseth her hand.