 | The Lost Lady |  |
ACT. 5.
SCÆ. 1.
Enter Servant, and Lysicles.Ser.
Sir, I have waited as you commanded,
Neere the house of the Ægyptian Lady:
Something is done, that disturbs them all,
Divers runne in and out, Physitians are sent for:
At last, I went in my selfe, and entred her
Chamber, found her on her bed almost distract
With torture, cries she is poison'd, curses her
Iealousie and curiosity, cals upon your name,
Desires, and then forbids you should be sent for.
Ly.
But I will come to her confession: courage my soule,
Let no faint pitty hinder thee the joyes
Thou art receiving, triumph in their sufferings
That have attempted thine: Looke downe Milesia,
Applaud my pietie, that snatcht the sword
From sleeping Justice, to revenge thy death.
Exit.
Ser.
What meanes my Lord to be pleas'd with this
Sad newes? how can this stranger have offended him?
I'le follow, learne the issue, and the cause.
Exit.
Enter the Moore on her bed, Hermione, Phillida, and Irene.
The bed thrust out.
Moo.
Oh, oh, oh, gods! if I have merited your hate,
You might have laid it on untill my name
Had beene a word to expresse full misery,
And I had thank'd you, if you had forborne
To make his innocence the instrument
Of your dire wrath. Hermione, Irene,
I have conjur'd my servants not to tell you
42
Their weakenesse shall discover't, let it be hid
From the best Lysicles: I burne, I burne,
And death dares not to ceaze me, frighted
With the furies that torment me.
Her.
Mysterious powers ! instruct us in the way
You would be serv'd, for we are ignorant;
Your Thunder else would not be aim'd at those
That follow vertue, as it is prescrib'd,
Whilst thousand others scape unpunished,
Enter Lysicles.
That violate the Lawes we are taught to keepe.
Ly.
What meane these sad expressions of sorrow?
Her.
Oh my Lord, Nature had not made our hearts
Capable of pitty, if we forbeare it here:
The vertuous Acanthe has beene tormented
With paines, nothing is able to expresse
But her owne groanes: she feares shee's poison'd,
Talkes of you, of Tombes, and of Milesia,
And in the midst of all her torture
Sayes, her distrust and jealousie deserves a greater punishment.
Ly.
And I beleev't, nor should you pitty her:
Those that doe trace forbidden paths of knowledge
The gods reserve unto themselves, doe never doo't,
But with intent to ruine the beleevers,
And venterers on their Art: Something I know
O'th'curs'd effects of her commanding Magick,
And she (no doubt) is conscious to her selfe
Of infinite more mischiefes than are yet reveal'd.
I am confident she is fled her Country
For the ills she has done there, and now
The punishment has overta'ne her here:
And for her shewes of Vertue, they are Masks
To hide the rottennesse that lyes within,
And gaine her credit with some dissembled acts
Of piety, which levells her a passage
To those important mischiefes, Hell
Has imploy'd her here to execute.
Moo.
Oh gods, deny me not a death, since you
Have given me the tortures that devance it:
If I deserve this, your inflicting hands
Doe reach unto the shades, lay it on there,
Hermione, Jrene, is Lysicles yet come?
Ly.
Yes, to counsell you to pacifie
The gods you have offended by your cursed Arts:
The blessed Ghost you sent me too, has told me
Some sad effects on't, and in her name,
And cause, have the gods hurl'd this punishment
On thy foule soule, and made my griefe inrag'd
To madnesse, the blest instrument of thy destruction,
Which does but here begin.
Mo.
You then did send the poison, with the Present I receiv'd?
Ly.
Yes, I did; and wonder you durst tempt
43
You could confine the Revelations
Of the best spirits, your cursed Charmes
Betray'd first, and then inforc'd to leave
Their happy seates, to perfect the designes
Your malice labour'd in.
Moo.
What unknowne waies have the gods invented
To punish me! I feele a torment
No tyranny e're paralell'd, yet must confesse
An obligation to him that impos'd it.
Good gods! if I doe bow under your wills,
Without repining at your sad decrees,
Grant this to recompence my Martyrdome,
That he that is the Author of my sufferings,
May never learne his errour.
Sir, if torments e're could expiate the crimes
We have committed, mine might chalenge your pardon
And your pitty: I feele Death entring me;
Love the memory of your Mylesia, and forgive—
Ir.
Helpe, helpe, she dyes.
Ly.
If it be possible, call life into her for some minutes,
Her full confession will obsolve my Justice.
Ir.
Bring some water here, she does but swoone:
So chafe her Temples,—Oh Heavens! what prodigy
Is here! her blacknesse falls away: My Lord, looke on
This Miracle, doth not Heaven instruct us in pitty
Of her wrongs, that the opinions which prejudice
Her vertue, should thus be wash't away with the
Blacke clouds that hide her purer forme?
Her.
Heaven hath some further ends in this
Than we can pierce: More water, she returnes to life,
And all the blacknesse of her face is gone.
Ir.
Pallas, Apollo, what may this portend? My Lord,
Have you not seene a face like this?
Ly.
Yes, and horrour ceazeth me: 'Tis the Idea
Of my Milesia. Impenetrable powers,
Deliver us in Thunder your intents,
And exposition of this Metamorphosis.
Her.
She stirres.
Ly.
Hold her up gently—He kneeles.
Moo.
Oh, oh; why doe you kneele to me?
Ly,
Are not you Milesia?
Moo.
Why doe you aske?
Ly.
Oh then you are.
Moo.
My Lysicles, I am by miracle preserv'd,
Though since the gods repent them of their succours,
Knowing me unworthy of thy firme constant love:
I never thought that death could be a terrour
Too long acquainted with the miseries
Pursue our lives, but now the apprehension
My grave should swallow thee, makes me to welcome it
With a heavinesse that sinkes dispairing sinners.
Ly.
Powre downe your Thunder gods, upon this head,
44
Was not her death affliction enough,
But you must make me be the murtherer?
Is this a punishment for adoring her
Equall with you, you made so equall to yee?
Pardon the fault you forc't me to commit:
So visible a Divinity could not be loo'd on
With lesse adoration.
Moo.
If e're I did expect a happier death,
May I dye loathed: what Funerall pompe
Can there be greater, than for me to heare
Whilst I yet live, my dying Obsequies
With so much zeale pronounc'd by him I love?
Tortures againe doe seize me.
Ly.
Eyes, are you dry where such an object calls
Your teares forth—My bloud shall supply your place.
Mo.
For heavens sake hold his hands: O my best Lysicles,
Doe not destroy the comforts of my soule;
What a division doe I feele within me!
I am but halfe tormented, my soule in spight
O'th'tortures of my body, doe feele a joy
That meets departed spirits in the blest shades—
Ly.
What unexpected mischiefes circle me,
What Arts hath malice, arm'd with Fortune, found
To make me wretched? could I e're have thought
A Miracle could have restor'd thee to my eyes,
But they should see the joyes of Heaven in thee?
Yet now the height of my affliction is,
That they behold thee guilty of the close
Of thine for ever: see Hermione,
The countenance Death should put on, when Death
Would have us throng unto her Palaces,
And court her frozen Sepulchres.
Ir.
Sure she is dead: how pale she is!
Ly.
No: she is white as Lillies, as the Snow
That falls upon Parnassvs; if the Red were here,
As I have seene't enthron'd, the rising day
Would get new excellence by being compar'd to her:
Argos, nor Cyprvs, Ægypt never saw
A beauty like to this; let it be lawfull for me to usurpe
So much on Deaths right, as to take a kisse
From thy cold Virgin-lips, where she and Love
Yet strive for Empire: the flames that rise from hence,
Are not lesse violent, though lesse pleasing now,
Than when she did consent I should receive
What now I ravish.
Mo.
Dares not Death shut those eyes where love
Hath enter'd once, or am I in the shades
Assisted with the Ghost of my deare Lysicles?
Ly.
She speakes againe: good Heaven, she speakes againe!
He.
You are yet living.
Mo.
And therefore dying, but before I goe
45
My jealousie hath throwne upon your innocence.
'Twas my too perfect knowledge of my want
Of merits to deserve, made me doubt yours:
I meane your constant love, which I will teach
Below, and make them learne againe to love,
Who have dyed for it.
Ly.
Doe not abuse your mercy and my griefe,
By asking pardon of your murtherer,
But curse your sufferings off, on this devoted head,
To save the beauty of the world in you.
Mo.
Why should your griefe make me repent the joyes
I ever beg'd of heaven? the knowledge
Of your love; could there be added more
Unto my happinesse, than to be confirm'd
By my owne sufferings how much you did love me,
And prosecuted those that desired my ruine?
Like Semele I dye, who could not take
The full god in her armes.
I have but one wish more, that I may beare
Vnto the shades the glorious title of your wife:
If I may live so long to heare but this
Pronounc'd by Lysicles, I dye in peace.
Ly.
Heare it with my vowes, not to behold
The Sunne rise after you are gone.
Mo.
O say not so, live, I command you live;
Let your obedience unto this command,
Shew you have lost a Mistresse.
Ly.
Can I heare this, and live?
Ir.
My Lord, our cares will be imployed better,
In seeking to avert this Ladies death,
Than in deploring it.
Ly.
You advise well: runne all to the Physitian:
I Will my selfe to Arnaldo, who gave
This poison to me. Let me have word sent to the
Cypresse grove, the minute she is dead.
Exeunt.
Draw in the bed.
Enter Lysicles meditating.
Ly.
If Life be given as a blessing to us,
What Law compels us to preserve it longer,
Than we can see a possibility
Of being happy by it? But we must expect
Till the same power that plac't us here, commands
A restitution of his gift: This is indeed a rule
To make us live, but not live happily.
'Tis true, the slave that frees himselfe by death
Doth wrong his Master: but yet the gods are not
Necessitous of us, but we of them.
Who then is injur'd if I kill my selfe?
And if I durst to heare their voyce, they call
Men to some other place, when they remove
The gust, and taste of this, we should adore thee death,
If constant vertue, not inforcement built
46
Enter Evgenio.
Welcome Eugenio, welcome worthie friend,
How long are you arrivd?
Eu.
Time enough to revenge, though not prevent
The injuries you have done me.
Ly.
VVhat meanes my friend?
Eu.
I must not heare that name now, you have lost
The effects and vertue of it: I come to punish
Your breach of faith.
Ly.
Is Hell affeard my constancie should conquer
The mischiefes that are rais'd to swallow me,
That it invents new plagues to batter me?
By all that's holy, I never did offend my friend,
Not in a thought.
Eu.
Those that by breach of vowes provoke their justice,
Doe seldome feare prophaning of their names,
To hide their perjuries will put it on them.
You have attempted my Hermione,
And forc'd her father to compell her voice
Unto your Marriage.
Ly.
All this I doe confesse, but 'twas for both your goods,
As I will now informe you.
Eu.
Hell and furies: because your specious titles,
Your spreading Vineyards, and your guilded house
Doe shine upon our Cottage, must our faiths,
VVhich Heaven did seale, be cancell'd; 'twas my vertue
VVonne her faire graces, which still out-shine
Your flames of vice.
Ly.
It hath not light enough to let you see your friend.
Gods! Could that man have liv'd, that dar'd to say,
Eugenio did suspect his Lysicles?
And now in pittie you doe shew him mee,
That I may flie the world without regreet,
Not leaving one of worth behinde me in it.
Begon, and learne your errours.
Eu.
I have don't alreadie: they were trusting you
VVith my lifes happinesse: draw, and restore the vowes
You made Hermione, or I will leave you dead,
And teare them from your heart.
Ly.
Fond man, thou dost not know how much 'tis in
My power to make thee miserable:
I could now force thee execute my wish
In killing mee; and thou wouldst flie the light,
VVhen it had shewd thee whom thy rage offended:
But till I fall by my owne hand, my life
Is chain'd unto my honour, which I will weare
Upon my Sepulchre: nor must I die,
Being guilty of Milesia's murther,
For any cause but hers, else were my breast,
Since you have wrong'd me, open to your poynt.
Eu.
Can you denie but that you have attempted
The faith of my Hermione?
Ly.
I can, with so strong circumstance of truth
47
But he that was my friend, and suspects me,
Must attend lesse satisfaction than a stranger.
Proceede, and let your case be both your judge and guide.
Eu.
What should I doe? I dare not trust my sence,
If he should tell me that it does deceive me:
Vertue it selfe would lose her qualitie
E're he forsooke her, and his words doe fall
Distorted from him; his soule doth labour
Vnder some heavy burthen, which my passion
Did hinder me from seeing. Sir forgive,
Or take your full revenge; let your owne griefes
Teach you to pitty those are distract with it:
I will not rise untill you pardon me.
Ly.
Oh my Eugenio, thy kindnesse hath undone me.
My rage did choake my griefe, which now did spread
It selfe over my soule and body: up, and helpe
To beare me till I fall eternally.
Eu.
Who can heare this, and not be turn'd to Marble?
Good Sir impart your sorrowes, I may bring comfort.
Ly.
Whilst they were capable thou didst, but now
They are too great and swolne to let it in.
Milesia, Whom you and J supposed dead,
By me to day is poison'd, and lies dying in her torment;
Is not this strange?
Eu.
VVhat have you said that is not?
But heaven avert this last.
Ly.
It is too late now; let me beg thy kindnesse
VVould doe that for me, J forbad thy passion.
Eu.
VVhat is't?
Ly.
Kill me.
Eu.
You cannot wish me such an hated office:
Call up your reasons and your courage to you,
VVhich was not given you onely for the warres,
But to resist the batteries of Fortune.
People will say, that Lysicles did want
Part of that courage Fame did speake him Lord of,
VVhen they shall heare him sunke below her succour.
Ly.
You will not kill me then?
Eu.
VVhen I beleeve there is no other meanes to ease you,
I will doe't.
Ly.
All but death are fled.
Eu.
Then draw your sword, and as J lift my arme
To sheath this in your breast, let yours pierce me,
On this condition J may doe your will.
Ly.
J may not for the world: why should you die?
Eu.
See how your passions blinde you; is Death
An ease or torment? if it be a joy,
VVhy should you envie it your dearest friend?
Ly.
Our causes are not equall.
Eu.
They will be when you are dead: How you mistake
The Lawes of Friendship, and commit those faults
You did accuse me of! J would not live so long
To thinke you can survive your dying friend.
48
Eugenio I am conquerd, yet I hope thy kindnesse
Will doe that for me, which thy sword refuseth:
Love thy Hermione, she deserves it friend:
Leave me alone a while.
Eu.
Your griefe's too great for me to trust your life with't:
I dare not venture you beyond my helpe.
Within.
Where's Prince Lysicles? where's Prince Lysicles?
Ly.
Hearke, I am cal'd, the fatall newes is come.
Drawes.
Eu.
Fie; how unmanly's this? Can sounds affright you,
Which yet you know not whether they doe bring
Or joyes, or sorrowes? when remedies are despair'd of,
You have still leave to dye; perhaps she lives,
And youle exhale her soule into your wounds,
And be the death of her you mourne for living.
Within.
Where's Prince Lysicles? where's Prince Lysicles?
Eu.
It is the voyce of comfort, none would strive
To be a sad relator; Ile call him, holla, here he is.
Enter a Servant.
Ser.
The strange Lady kisses your hands, my Lord: Arnaldo
Has restor'd her; she bad me say, your sight can onely
Give perfection to what he has begunne.
Eu.
Will you dye now?
Ly.
Softly, good friend, gently let it slide
Into my breast; my hearts too narrow yet
To take so full a joy in: You're sure this newes is true?
Ser.
On my Life.
Eu.
Why should you doubt it?
Ly.
My comforts ever were like Winter Sunnes,
That rise late, and set betimes, set with thicke Clouds
That hide their light at noone: but be this true,
And I have life enough to let me see it:
I shall be ever happy.
Eu.
So, 'tis well; at length his hope hath taught despaire to feare.
Exeunt.
Enter Milesia, Hermione, Irene, Physitian.
Phy.
Madam, my innocence will plead my pardon; I could
Not ghesse for whom my Lord intended it; the truth is,
I feard, considering his deepe melancholy, he
Intended to use it on himselfe, and therefore meant to
Make him out of love with death, by suffering the paines
Our soules doe feele when they are violenc'd from us.
I had provided Antidotes, but could not, till this houre,
Learne on whom it was imployed: sure I was, it could
Be death to none, though full of torment.
Mi.
Till I have farther meanes, thanke you; receive this ring.
He.
But Madam, what did your poore Hermione deserve,
That you should hide your selfe from her?
Or are you the Milesia that were pleas'd
To call me friend? or is she buried
By Pallas Temple? truely beleefe and memory
Opposing sence, makes doubt which to credit:
I wept you dead, the Virgins did intombe you:
49
Mi.
My faire deare friend, you shall know all my story.
Tis true, my Uncle did designe my death
For loving Lysicles, for at his comming hither
He charg'd me by all ties that were betweene us,
To hate him as the ruine of his honour,
And yet for some darke ends I understood not,
Resolv'd to leave me here. I swore obedience,
But knew not what offence it was to keepe
An oath so made, till I had seene the Lysicles,
Which at your house I did; when he came wounded
From hunting of the Boare, all but his name
Appear'd most god-like to me; you all did runne
To stoppe his wounds, and I thought I might see
My enemies bloud; yet soone did pitty ceaze me
To see him bleed: thus, love taking the shape
Of pitty, glided unseene of me into my heart,
And whilst I thought my selfe but charitable,
I nurst my infant love with milke of pitty
Till he grew strong enough to take me prisoner.
I found his eyes on mine, and ere I could
Remove them, heard him say, he'de thanke his fortune
For this last wound: if 'twere the cause
Of seeing me; then tooke his leave,
But left me speechlesse that I could not say,
My heart farewell: after this visite our loves
Grew to that height that you have heard of.
Her.
The Groves, and Temples, and darke shade have heard
Them mourned, and celebrated by your friend.
Mi.
I had a servant unsuspected of me,
For none I trusted that observ'd our meetings,
And ghessing by my sighes that love had made them,
Betray'd them to my Uncle; on Pallas Eve
He rusht into my Chamber, his sword drawne,
And snacht me by the arme: I fell downe,
But knowing yet no fault, could begge no pardon.
A while our eyes did onely speake our thoughts;
At length out of his bosome he pull'd out
A paper, 'twas the contract 'twixt my Lord and me:
And ask't me if I would avow the hand.
Heaven said I, has approv'd it, and the gods
Have chose this way to re-unite our houses;
Staine of thy kindreds honour, he exclaimes:
Was there no other man to ease your lust
But he that was our greatest enemy.
Resolve to dye, thy bloud shall hide the staines
Of our dishonour.
Her.
He could not be so cruell to intend it.
Mi.
He was: for leaving me oppress'd with sighes
And teares; yet not of sorrow and repentance,
But feare that I should lose my dearest servant,
Commands his cruell slaves to murther me
50
Create remorse in their obdurate hearts,
The lights were all put out: then hastily
My name was heard; I then intreated her
That betray'd me, tell them I was comming,
And tooke this time to write unto my Lord:
She went, but by the way was ceaz'd,
And strangled by those murtherers
That expected me. My Uncle heard
Her latest groanes; and now the act was past,
His power to helpe, he wisht it were undone:
Brings lights to see the body, and perceiv'd
The strange mistake: by signes and lifted eyes
Confess'd Heavens hand was in't; yet would not leave
His revenge here, commands his slaves to change
My cloathes with hers was slaine; then takes the head off,
And on the Trunke did leave a note, which told
My death for loving Lysicles, in hope my ruine:
Knowing his noble nature would be his.
At mid-night quits this Towne, leaving none behind
Were conscious of the fact, immures me in his house
Till I escapt in that disguise I wore,
When I first came to you.
Ir.
Why did you not declare your selfe when you came hither?
Mi.
You were the cause on't: at my arrivall here,
I heard my Lysicles should marry you,
And therefore kept the habite I was in,
To search unknowne the truth of this report,
And practiz'd in the private actions of some neere friends,
Got an opinion I could presage
The future: thus was I sought by you,
Thus found the faith of my deare Lysicles,
When at the Tombe I did appeare his ghost,
And had reveal'd my selfe, had not the shame
Of doubting such a faith, kept my desires in.
Her.
Then he dissembled when he made love to me?
Mi.
He did: forgive it him, 'twas for his friend.
Her.
I am sorry for it.
Mi.
How my deare friend?
Her.
Nay, it is true,
Enter Lysicles. & Evgenio.
Evgenio and he are of such equall tempers,
I shall suspect he has dissembled too.
Mi.
Oh you are pleasant;
Here comes my Lord.
Ly.
Is there a wish beyond this happinesse,
When I embrace thee thus? I will not aske
Thy Story now, it is enough to know
That you are living.
Mi.
The gods have made this tryall in my sufferings,
If I deserv'd so great a blessing:
I have but one griefe left.
Ly.
Is that word yet notearth?
51
Yes, but it springs from an excessive joy
Of finding such admired worth in you.
What I hereafter shall doe in your service,
Must weare the name of Gratitude, not Love.
Ly.
No my Milesia,
Mine was the first ingagement, and the gods
Made thee so excellent to keepe on earth
Love that was flying hence, finding no object
Worthy to fixe him here.
Her.
No more Evgenio, if your words could adde
Expressions to your love, you had not had
So much of mine; and after I have tryed
Your faith so many waies, it would appeare
Ingratitude, not modesty to shew a Mistresse coldnesse.
Eu.
May I beleeve, all advantagious words,
Or may I doubt them, seeing they come from you
Who are all truth? I will not speake
How undeserving I am of these favours,
Because I will not wrong the Election
Your gracious pitty forceth on your Iudgement.
Ly.
Our joyes doe multiply; but my deare friend,
I have yet something that will adde to yours:
My Father's call'd to Court, and you are left
Governor in his place; this (I know) will make
Lord Pindarvs consent to both your wishes,
Your pardon Madam, and when you lye embrac't
With your Evgenio, tell him, if my faith
Had not the double tye of Friend and Mistresse.
A single one had yeelded to the hopes
Enter Pindarvs.
Of the enjoying you: Here comes my Lord—
Oh my good Lord, I must intreate your pardon
For a fault my love unto my friend ingag'd me in:
Let your consent compleate the happinesse
Of these two perfect Lovers; I am confident
You ever did approve his vertue: his fortune now
Can be no hinderance, since our gracious King
In contemplation of his merits,
Hath made him Governor in my Fathers place.
Pind.
Most willingly I give it, since I have lost
The hopes of being ally'd to you;
Heaven blesse you both.
Sir, your owne love of my Hermione,
And yours now, will teach you to admit
An easie satisfaction for the troubles
My love unto my Child hath throwne upon you.
Eu.
You are all goodnesse, and my services
Ever directed by your will, shall shew,
Though I can never merit this great honour,
I will doe nothing shall deprive me of
The honour of your love and favour.
Pind.
Your vertue promiseth more than I may heare
From you: once more Heaven blesse you.
52
I shall be at peace; for having promised
My Daughter to him, I would not have him
Thinke that by me hee's injur'd.
Her.
'Tis in your power Sir, to satisfie him.
Pind.
I would doe any thing.
Her.
Perswade my Cozen to confesse she loves him,
Which I doe know she does, and he already
Has made profession of his, unto my prejudice:
Nay blush not Cozen, since you would not allow me
This secret as a friend, you may excuse
The inquisitivenesse of a rivall.
Mi.
This is all truth my Lord, I can assure you.
Pind.
Is't possible, Irene, doe you love Ergasto?
Ir.
Me thinkes your experience, Uncle, should teach you,
That such a question was not to be ask't:
Well, if I did love him, 'twas because I thought
That he lov'd me; but if he does not, I pardon him:
For I am certaine he once beleev'd it himselfe.
Pind.
If ever love make any deepe impression
In you, I am deceiv'd.
Ir.
His Dart may strike as farre into me
As into another for ought you know Uncle.
Pind.
You have ill lucke else Neece.
Enter Phormio, Ergasto, Cleon.
Pho.
Nay, 'tis most certaine the Towne is full of it:
Milesia, I know not how, is alive againe:
Evgenio is made Governour; though you were constant,
You can have no longer hopes of Hermione:
Therefore let me advise you, make that seeme
Your owne Election, which will else be Inforcement:
Quit your Interest in Hermione, and renew
Your suite to Irene.
Er.
Observe me.
Pind.
Welcome my Lords, doe you know this Lady?
Er.
Most perfectly, and came to congratulate
With the Prince, for her double recovery.
Ly.
I thanke you my Lord, and when my friend and you
Are reconcil'd, you may assure your selfe
I am your servant.
Er.
What's in my power to give him satisfaction:
He may command.
Eu.
Your friendship does it.
Pin.
my Lord, this reconcilement will make way unto my
Pardon, I have not beene wanting in my promise
To you; but my daughter thinkes she has chosen
So well, that without any leave, she hath made her
Selfe, her owne disposer.
Er.
Ages of happinesse attend them: If I may hope to
Gaine the graces of the faire Irene, I shall be happy too.
Pin.
If I have any power, she shall be yours.
Ly.
Let me beg the honour of interceding: your fortunes
And condition are so equall, it were a sin to part you.
Ph.
Pray Sir, let him doe it himselfe: the taske is not
53
Ir.
Have you such skill in perspective?
Ph.
As good as any Chyromancer's in Ægypt Madam.
Er.
He has reason, for I have open'd my breast to him,
And he has seene my heart, and you inthron'd in't.
Ph.
He tels you true Lady.
Ir.
Indeed Sir: and pray what did it looke like?
Ph.
Faith to deale truely, much like the wheele of Fortune,
Which turning round, puts the same persons
Sometimes at top, sometimes at bottome: but at last
Love shot his dart thorough the Axel-tree,
And fixt you Regent.
Ir.
Well, I have considered, and my Cozens
Example shall teach me.
Er.
What in the name of doubt?
Ir.
To avoid the infinite troubles you procur'd her by your
Fruitlesse solicitations: d'ee thinke your teares shall cost
Me so many teares, as they have done her?
PIN.
You may excuse them by consenting
To your friends desires.
Mi.
Sweet Madam, let me obtaine this for him:
He dyes if you deny him.
Her.
Deare Irene, perfit the happinesse of this day.
Ir.
You have great reason to perswade me
To take him you abhorr'd.
Her.
I was ingag'd.
Ir.
Well, if any here will passe their words
He can continue constant a weeke, I will
Be dispos'd by you.
Omnes.
We all will be ingag'd for him.
Ir.
On this condition I admit him to a Months service,
And my selfe to a perpetuall servitude.
Er.
I ever shall be yours.
Ir.
My father said so, till my mother wept.
Eu.
A notable woing this.
Ly.
And as notably finish'd.
Let's now unto my father,
Who expects you to deliver his Commission to you.
Come my Milesia, tell my wounded heart
No more, her sighes shall wander through the aire
Not knowing where to find thee: nor no more
Shall the mistaken Tombe of false Onone
Be moistened with my teares; yet since she dyed
To save thy life, her ghost could not expect
A cheaper sacrifice: this I'le onely adde
In memory of us, All Lovers shall
Repute this day, as their great Feastivall.
FINIS.
| The Lost Lady | |