 | The Lost Lady |  |
1
Agenor.
Sir, I hope Lord Lysicles is not yet retir'd.
Ph.
No Sir, he commanded immediate notice
Should be given of your comming.
Ag.
I feare my stay at the Castlle, hath made my
Duty seeme unmannerly, but till this minute I had not
My dispatches from the Governour.
Ph.
Let it not trouble you, he never shuts his eies
Till all this other World opens theirs, nor does he
Sleepe then, but with distracted thoughts
Labours his fancy, to present him objects that may
Advance his griefe.
Ag.
What may the monstrous cause be?
Ph.
'Twas monstrous indeede, he lost his Mistris,
Barbarously murdered by her perfidious Uncle:
Her Urne is in Cirrha, which my Lord nightly
Visits and presents it, all his contracted
Sighes of the fled day; but at his parting
Reassumeth more, by thinking she is not: to
Whose deare memory his teares and griefes are
Offered, he's now alone, and the religious awe
Which makes our Priests retire, before they
Doe adore the incensed powers, is seene in him,
2
Till a just contemplation of his losse, hath
Made his sorrow eloquent.
Enter. Lysicles,
See he comes, if when he parts your hast will
License you, I will relate the story of his
Unequal'd suffrings.
Lys.
Doe you depart to night?
Ag.
This houre my Lord.
Lys.
I will not wrong you to intreate your care in suddainly
Delivering these small packets, but least you
Should beleeve they are meerely ceremonious,
And so beare any date, I now informe you,
I am concern'd in nothing neerer, my griefes excepted.
Ag.
I wish your Lordships happinesse.
Ly.
First, wish me a captivity, for as I am
Ith'instant, if heaven should powre his blessings
On me, their quality would alter. Sir, good night.
Ph.
Sir, you are sad.
Ag.
He has no heart to joy that can be otherwise,
That sees this glorious youth groane under his harsh fate.
Ph.
What a sad accent had each word he uttred?
Ag.
I could not marke them much, but his whole
Frame is of such making, as if dispaire had bin the Architect,
We may wish, not hope a long life in him.
Ph.
Sir, will you now take horse?
Ag.
I should, had you not promis'd the originall of
This misfortune, and trust me 'tis a bold
Curiosity, that makes me search into it, for if
The silent presentation hath strooke amazement
In me, how shall I guard my heart, when sad
Disasters violence my passions.
Ph.
Thus then in short,
These noble Kingdomes Thessaly and Sparta,
Have from the time, two Kings commanded all,
Under both Titles, still bin emulous,
And jealous of th'advantages which each,
Suspected might be in the adverse party:
This caus'd a lasting warre, but the fierce storme
Threatned not till the raigne of these two Kings,
Both crowned yong, both of an equall age,
Both having all the passions of their subjects,
Their feares excepted: the Embassadors
That should congratulate the new made Kings,
As if one spirit had inspired both,
Came with this message little varied,
That each were joy'd in such an enemy:
No more the fearefull wisedome of old men
Should rust their swords, that fate had given to one
Command of all. In short, their forces met,
And in ten bloody daies none could decide
Which had the better cause:
The vertues of each Prince so prevalent.
3
Urgent affaires at home compel'd each King
To leave their Armies, ours committed his
To Strimon father of Prince Lysicles.
The Duke of Argos did command the Spartana,
Who swolne with the great name of Generall.
Before his King had hardly left the sight
Of his great Arme; drawes his forces out.
And fac'd us in our Trenches: 'tis not yet
Unquestion'd, whether feare or policy
Made Strimon keepe in his: but certainly this,
That Vertue sharpn'd by necessity,
Procur'd our Triumph: here Lysicles
Anticipated yeares unto his fame,
And on the wounds of his brave Enemy,
Did write his Story, which our Virgins sing
But from this conquest did begin the cause of all his misery.
Ag.
How from this? unlesse the King should judge
It, too dangerous an honor to be given to one.
Ph.
Hee's Lord of so much Vertue,
He cannot feare it in a Subject.
Ag.
And as the common voice reacht him in Athos,
There's none he lookes on with greater
Demonstration of his love.
Ph.
I know not that, but this I am perfit in,
His judgment is directed by the Kings so powerfully,
He cannot thinke his vertues injured,
Though many should be neerer in his graces,
It would inflict him strangely if any should be thought,
To love his Prince better than he.
Ag.
Pardon my interruption, pray proceed.
Ph.
The Duke defeated, posts unto the Court,
Where he design'd, unto his dire revenge,
Th'obscurest path that ever time reveal'd
Since her first glasse: procures his King to throw
Neglects upon him, and to seeme in doubt
Of his obliged faith: a severe search
Made on his papers, his treasure vallued
By the publicke Officer, and is himselfe,
Twice deprehended in a seeming flight,
Calumniated, libeld, and disgrac'd,
By his owne seeking, and beleefe of others,
Who judging him to be their honors ruine.
First raze his house, and then demand his life
As sacrifice, unto their brothers, sonnes,
Nephewes, and publicke losse: sedition
Had now the face of piety, which once
Receiv'd as just, can hardly be repel'd.
The King with difficulty doth assure his life,
With promise of his banishment.
This he fore-saw and sought, and did disguise
4
Parts in the night, and partner of his fate
Hath his faire Neece, who is so innocent,
She cannot thinke there is a greater crime,
Practis'd by men than errour, which does make
Us seeme more vicious, than in act we are.
Ag.
I want a perspective for this darke Mystery;
And but your knowledge doth dissolve my doubts,
'Twould seeme a Riddle, that a Gentleman
Of his knowne valour, reputation,
Should strive to lose both for some secret end,
I cannot yet arrive too.
Ph.
Sir, you know
Revenge doth master all our passions,
That are not servants to her rage.
Ag.
But how unfriended, banisht the reproach
Of Traytor fixt upon him, he could find
The way unto't more easie, I am ignorant.
Ph.
This story will resolve you, to this Court he comes,
Is brought to th'King, then with a modest freedome
Relates his suffrings, hopes that fame hath taught
His story ere his comming, else he should
Continue miserable, as beleev'd,
Both by his friends and enemies a Traytor:
Delivers that he sought protection
From him, because none else could vindicate
His innocence, which many mothers here
Saith, he hath wept that day when fortune
Consulted Fate, who should be Conqueror:
You brave Lords (saith he) that were present, did my sword
Parley? did you receive wounds on condition?
Were these by compact? all my bloud is lost
Since 'tis discredited, what before was spent,
Ran in my name and made that live: but now
Great King, you onely repeale my honors fall,
By giving death unto your enemy.
Our Prince resents his fate, confirmes him his
By a large pension, and too soone intrusts
With all his secrets, gives him meanes to view
His forts, which he designes, and learnes the strength
Of each particular province, and inform'd
Of all, makes his escape, and is received.
Of the Spartana King with all remonstrances
Of love, and confess'd service; but before
He parted, did that horrid act which
Lysicles must dye for.
Ag.
Indeed this story doth not much concerne
Him, if I mistake not.
Ph.
At his arrivall here, he left his Neece
With this designe, that when his plots were ripe,
Without suspect he might come to the borders:
Hither he comes, and at his entrance, is
5
Of the great love 'twixt her and Lysicles,
The compact of their vowes, with divers Letters
The Lovers had exchang'd: he stormes and cries,
If thou dost love young Lysicles, my hate
Shall strike thee dead, thy hand pluckt backe my honor
When it was mounting, be constant, and this hand
Shall by her death give thee a lingring one,
And my revenge in thy owne house begin.
Then with a barbarous unheard of cruelty
Murthers his Neece, and the same instant flies:
Fame had the next Sun blowne this through the City,
His house was searcht, the trunke of the dead Lady
Found in the Hall, the head he carried with him,
In honor of his cruelty.
Ag.
Sure he was mad.
Ph.
I would say so too, but that I would not make
Him lesse guilty of this inhumanity.
Ag.
What furies governe man? we hazard all
Our lives and fortunes to gaine hated memories:
And in the search of vertue, tremble at shadowes.
But how are you ascertain'd that he did
This horrid act?
Ph.
He sent the bitter summons of her death,
By her that had betray'd her; the report
Did make her spirits throng unto her heart,
And sure had kild it, had not Heaven decreed
His hand should be as blacke as his intent.
She begg'd sometime for prayer, and retir'd:
In her owne blood did write her Tragedy,
And parting, wishes to her deare bethroth'd.
Now heare the strangest mistooke piety,
That ever entred in a Virgins breast:
She so much lov'd this barbarous Homicide,
She would not have him guilty of her death,
And therefore with her owne hand wounds her selfe,
And as she bled, she writ unto her Lord:
At last concludes.
They will not let me make them innocent:
I'me cald unto my death, and I repent
My wound, because I would not hurt
That which I hope you lov'd: this bloody note
Was found the next day in her pocket.
Ag.
And came it to the Lord Lysicles?
Ph.
It did, and if you e're had seene
A hundred parents at one time deplore
The unexpected deaths of their lost Children:
The fathers sorrow, and the mothers teares,
Would Emblemize, but not expresse his griefe.
Sometimes he shreekt, as if h'ad sent his soule
Out in his voice: sometimes stood fixt, and gaz'd
As if he had no sence of what he saw:
6
Of his deare Mistresse, even ith'gates of Death
Had not pursu'd him, he had certaine dyed:
Torment did now give life, at last he drew
His sword, and ere he could be staid, did fall
Upon the point. This I thinke did preserve him,
For not being mortall, and he fainting with
The losse of bloud, had not then strength enough
To end himselfe; untill he was perswaded
To live, to celebrate her memory,
Which nightly he doth doe upon her Tombe,
Whither he now is gone.
Ag.
I have not heard of such a love as this!
Ph.
Nor never shall of such a beauty as did cause it.
'Tis late, and I'le not trouble you with her story:
When you are at Court, all tongues will speake
Her merit to your wonder. I'le bring you to your horse.
Exit.
The Tombe discovered. Enter Lysicles, and a Page, with a Torch.
Enter Ergasto, and Cleon.
Cl.
And will you marry now?
Er.
Indeed will I.
Cl.
And what shall be done with all those lockes of haire
You have?
Er.
Why I'le make buttons of 'em, and had they halfe
The value that I swore they had, when I did beg 'em,
Rich orient Diamonds could not equall them:
Some came easily, and some I was forc'd to dig for in the Mine
Cl.
And your priz'd liberty, what shall become of that?
You swore you would not marry till there were
A Law established, that married men
Might be redeem'd as Slaves are.
Er.
I was an Asse when I talkt so:
Those damb'd bookes of Chastity I read
In my minority corrupted me; but since
I'm practis'd in the World, I find there are
No greater Libertines than married men.
'Tis true 'twas dangerous, this knot in the
First Age, when it was a crime to breake vowes:
But thankes to Venvs, the Scæne is altered,
And we act other parts. I'le tell thee,
The priviledges we enjoy when we are married.
First, our secrecy is held Authentick,
Which is assurance will take up any woman at
Interest, that is not peevish, then the acquaintance
Which our wives bring us, to whom at times I carry
My wives commendations, and if their husbands be
Not at home, I doe commend my selfe.
Cl.
For what I prethee?
Er.
For a good Dancer,
A good Rider, a good—any thing
That I thinke will please 'em.
7
Thou'lt have a damnable conceite of thy wife
By thy knowledge and opinion of all other
Women, unlesse you thinke her a Phœnix.
Er.
'Twill be my best resolution. But harke in thy
Eare Rogue, I could be content to thinke, and
Wish mine and all—for the publicke good,
And weare my hornes with as much confidence,
As the best velvet head of 'em all, and paint
Them in my Crest, with this Inscription;
These he deserv'd for his love to the Common-wealth.
Cl.
A rare fame you would purchase.
Er.
A more lasting one than any Monument you can
Repeate the Epitaph of, and would it not be
Glorious to be commemorated as the first founder
Of the Commonalty of undisparag'd Cuckolds?
Cl.
Yes, and pray'd for by bastards that got better
Fathers than they were destin'd to by their mothers marriages.
Er.
And curs'd by Surgeons that were undone by
Honest womens practices.
Cl.
And this done voluntarily, which you will
Hardly avoide, though you have a thousand
Guards to prevent it. I that have beene your
Play-fellow, shall be first suspected,
And first banish'd.
Er.
By Jvpiter never; no, though 'twould preserve
A thousand smooth fore-heads: if she be honest
Your Arts cannot alter her, and if otherwise,
Had I not rather adopt a sonne of thine
Than a strangers: and confesse truely Cleon,
Would not you for this publicke benefit be
Content to sacrifice a Sister, that we might
Love no longer by obligations, but affection; and
Seeing, liking, and enjoying, finish'd in a meeting.
Cl.
Unlesse I had meanes to appropriate one, you
Cannot suspect but I should wish a title unto all:
But what hopes have you of your Mistris?
Er.
No airy ones of liking and affection, but mine
Are built on terra firma already, which her father
Lookes on greedily, and proportions
This to that grand-child, to the second this.
Cl.
Is he not somewhat startled at the report of
Thy debauchery? for though your thicke set woods,
And spreading Vineyards make excellent shades
To keepe away the Sun, I meane the piercing eye
Of censure; yet some suspicious common fame will raise.
Er.
Indeede it was my enemy whilst my elder brother liv'd.
Cl.
But since his death you are altred I must
Confesse it, for then the slendernesse of your
Annuity allowed you but the election of some
One sinne: I meane a cherisht sin, whilst
The others repin'd that thought themselves
8
Yet singly still; but since your brothers Death
You have shewne your selfe a gratefull
Gentleman, and recompenc'd those that have
Suffred for you to the full.
Er.
A pretty Satyre this, to whip boyes of nine:
Yet still I tell thee, I am another in the opinion of the world.
Cl.
Another Heliogabalus thou wouldst be,
Hadst thou his power; but by what conjuration can
You bring me to thinke it?
Er.
By reason, which is a spirit will hardly be
Rais'd in you, but thus it is: whilst my brother
Liv'd, my wildnesse was observed by—
Cl.
But now you walke in shades, recluse, and shut
Up in your Coach, your painted Liveries
Supposed Faries, and she that you were wont to
Visit by the name of Madam Ruffiana, is now
Your Aunt, all this I am perfit in; yet cannot
Reach the mystery of your suppos'd disguise,
You say doth Masque you.
Er.
Heare me and be converted; I say I was
Observed by those that were neerest in blood to me,
And with feare too, least the ruine of my
Fortune might force them to supply my wants.
This caus'd the Ague,; this the admonitions, and
Frequent counsels; sometimes severe reproofes,
Every one curling himselfe from any hopes of mine,
They would assist me, and those gave largest counsels,
That would give nothing else.
Cl.
Of this I am yet a sad party, and a witnesse too.
Er.
Since my brothers death, the names of things
Are changed, my ryots are the bounties of my nature,
Carelesnesse the freedome of my soule,
My prodigality an easenesse of mind proportion'd
To my fortune: beleeve me Cleon, this poverty
Is that which puts a multiplying-glasse upon our
Faults, and makes 'em swell, and fill the eye;
Our crimes cry highest then, when they have brought us low.
Cl.
I have not knowne any condemn'd for playing,
But for loosing.
Er.
True, and let it be thy rule for all things else.
Cl.
If this be certain, 'twill be long ere I be reputed vertuous.
Er.
Thou'lt never be, unlesse it be this way.
I prophesie, good Cleon.
Cl.
'Tis a sad story, pray let us leave it. Have you no Rivals?
Er.
None present that I can feare, having her
Fathers firme consent
Cl.
Evgenio, your Rivall still continues banisht.
Er.
And I hope will, till I am full possessed of Hermione.
Cl.
Did you give him cause to draw upon you in th'garison?
Er.
Nor knew then any of offence, or his pretences,
9
And drew upon me; we had a lettle scuffle,
Were parted, and he banisht for the insolence.
Cl.
Prince Lysicles labours to recall him.
Er.
By all meanes, he was by in the nois'd battle, saw the
Prince cleave this man to the twist, divide a second, overthrow
A third, he is his Trumpet.
Cl.
His actions need none.
Er.
Wilt thou be happy Cleon, beleeve not Fame
So farre, as to make thy selfe lesse than another man,
There were thousands that served for sixe Sestersce,
That did more than both; yet sleepe forgotten: 'Tis
Now time to meet the Ladies on the walke.
Exeunt.
Enter Lysicles, kneeles to the Tombe, and then speakes.
Ly.
I doe prophane this place, for were my griefes
As great as I would boast 'em, I could not live
To tell them to the World:
Or is the passage which my soule should make
Shut up with sorrow? 'Tis so, and a joy,
A hopefull joy, to meete her must give freedome
To my sad prisoner, when my hand shall lead
This dagger to his heart, that parted ours.
And Heaven that heares this vow, powre on my head
Dire thunder, if I shrinke in what I promise:
And sacred'st Saint, if from thy place of rest,
Thou turn'st thy eyes upon thy holy Relickes,
Accept my vowes, and pardon me the life
Of the curst Homicide, a full revenge
Of thy Death, and my lives misery,
Shall make him pay the time he has out-liv'd
My happinesse; and when he is falne,
Present thy selfe in all thy glories to me,
That my freed soule may owe her liberty
To no force but impatient longing
Of re-injoying thee; and holy Tombe,
The Altar where my heart is nightly offered,
Let my wing'd love have passage through thy marble,
And fan the sacred ashes, knowing no heate,
But what he takes from them; so peace and rest
Dwell ever with thee.
Exit.
Enter Hermione, Irene, Phillida, all vailed.
Ir.
Deare Hermione, pinch me or I shal sink with laughter.
Her.
What said the stranger? Phillida, I did not heare it?
Phi.
Nothing madam.
Her.
Then he did talke by signes, he was long about it:
What was't, Irene?
10
He long importun'd her to shew her face, which
After many urgings she consented to; and he in
Recompence made a low Revernce to her, and
Then thankes her for the great favour, and
Concludes he never did receive so great a one
From any woman, since all else have done with them
A reference to themselves: but hers was meerely
Goodnesse, for before he saw her he might
Have suspected her face handsomely hid, for a
Peece of beauty, if her vertue would have
Suffered him to be longer in that errour.
Phi.
I would I were a man for his sake.
Ir.
So you told him, and he still courteous for
All your anger, promis'd to give you what you
Wanted of a Man, or teach you how to make one.
Her.
Thou wilt never be old wench, if thou still
Keep'st this humour.
Enter Ergasto and Cleon.
Ir.
Not a sigh older these seven yeares if't
Please Sir Cvpid, for he blowes our bellowes.
But looke, yonders your servant, there's no
Starting now; you must stand too't, but before
He comes to interrupt us, observe with me,
How in that deepe band, short cloake, and his
Great bootes, he lookes three stories high, and
His head is the garret, where he keepes nothing but lists of
Horse matches, and some designes for his next cloaths.
Phi.
Where is his cellarage?
Ir.
He'll shew it thee himselfe deare Phillida, and
Thine too, if thou wilt have him: but they make to us.
Er.
Madam, will you honor me, and this Gentleman,
With a sight of that which doth inrich the World?
Her.
You will not take our excuses, if we should say
You find us now with more advantage to our beauties.
Er.
So breakes the morning forth, but the Sunnes
Raies, are not so quicke and piercing as your eyes,
For they descend even to our hearts.
Ir.
Heaven defend: my heart would tremble if they should.
Er.
Why Madame?
Ir:
See such impieties as are lodg'd there in a
Man, and not be stucke with horror, 'tis impossible.
Er.
Your wit doth make you cruell: but Madam, I
Have something to deliver unto you, which your
Father commanded no eare should heare but yours.
Ir.
What have you there Cleon?
Cl.
Verses Madam.
Ir.
Whose?
Cl.
Of Lord Ergasto's,
Written in celebration of the faire Hermione.
Ir.
Did he buy them, or found them without a father,
And has adopted them for his owne?
Cl.
They are his owne.
Ir.
Here.
Cl.
I pray read them.
Ir.
What have I deserv'd of you good Cleon, that
You should make me read his Verses in his owne presence?
If you thinke I have not already as an ill opinion
11
Cl.
Read them, and Ile assure you you'l find things
Well said and seriously, and you will alter your opinion of him.
Ir.
Pray give them me, I long to be working wonders.
Rubies—Peases—Roses—Heaven.
She reads single words.
Doe you not thinke he has done my Cozen a
Simple favour comparing of her voice to that of Heaven?
Cl.
'Tis his love makes him doe it, not finding any
Thing on Earth fit to expresse her, he
Searcheth Heaven for a similitude.
Ir.
Alas good Gentleman, 'tis the first time he
Ever thought on't; what frequent thunders
Should I heare, if 'twere as he would have it?
Let me counsaile you, lay them aside till
They have contracted an inch of dust, then with
Your finger write their Epitaph, expressing
The mutuall quiet they gave men, and received
From them; or as all poisons serve for some use,
Give them your Physitian, and let him
Apply them to his Patient for a Vomit,
This way they may be usefull.
Cl.
How ever you esteeme them, such an Elogy
Would make you thinke your glasse had not yet flattered you.
Ir.
It cannot, I prevent it, and accuse it, for
Not shewing the Hils of Snow, the Rubies
And the Roses, they say, have being from me:
But stay, Heaven opens, and I see a Tempest comming,
Your Poët is a Prophet.
Her.
I'le call an oath to be my witnesse.
Er.
Madam?
Her.
My owne feares light upon me, if the night that
Eve's the day of Marriage doth not shut me from the World.
Er.
Why Madam, this intemperance?
Her.
'Tis a just anger.
Er.
If you are angry Madam with all that love you,
There lives none that has more enemies,
Every eye that lookes upon you, you must hate.
Ir.
Sir Cleon, our friends are engag'd, pray let
Vs be o'th'party: what has cal'd up this
Choler in my sweet Cozen? My Lord you have
Beene begging favours.
Er.
Yes of Heaven, that it would furnish me
With merits fit to deserve your Cozen.
Ir.
When it has granted you, returne to her, and
Renue your suite; but if you stay till then,
You must get spectacles to see her beauty with.
Her.
Why should you hinder your repose and mine?
You know I never lov'd you.
Ir.
Then he has no reason to accuse you of inconstancy.
Er.
Why are you faire? or why has my Stars
Enforc'd me to love nothing else?
Ir.
If your love were considerable, what an
Obligation had my Cozen to your Starres?
12
Impulsive, and not voluntary.
Ir.
I cannot tell, but when I seriously direct them to you,
I'le sweare I am bewitch'd.
Cl.
Madam, this is repugnant to your other vertues,
That you should hate a man for loving you,
Before he did professe himselfe your servant.
I know you did receive him with indifferency
At least: whence then proceeds your hate?
Her.
From his expression of his love.
Cl.
A cruell Son sprung from so mild a Father, if he did
Vrge you to any thing might blast your honor.
Ir.
She would not heare him, and as it is, how
Much does he obliege her, he's now her servant,
And would entreate her to let him be her Master,
A request strangely modest.
Cl.
If I were he, I'de take an honorable composition,
Let her chuse whom she pleas'd for husband,
And continue her secret servant still.
Her.
You are uncivill.
Enter Pindarvs.
Cl.
Pardon me Madam, this mirth's a liberty:
Your cozen doth allow me—Here comes your father.
Pindarvs whispers with Ergasto, he speakes to Hermione.
Pin.
How long ist you have undertaken to be your
Owne disposer?
Her.
Sir.
Pin.
After my cares had sought you out a man that brings
All blessings that the world cals happy; you must refuse him.
Her.
Sir, I have tane an oath.
Pin.
I know the priest that gave it. Doe you not blush,
Being so yong, to know how to distinguish the difference
Of desires, and this so wildly? that you will put off your
Obedience rather than loose one that you dare not say
Hath int'rest in you; but by my hopes of rest,
Enter Lysicles.
I'le use the power custome and nature gives me,
To force you to your happinesse.
Lysicles.
How now my Lord? what miracle can raise a
Tempest here, where so much beauty raignes?
Pin.
My Lord, you are not practis'd in the cares of
Fathers. I thought to have seene this Gentleman
My son to morrow; and she does not refuse him: but—
Lys.
It must not be, pardon me vertue, that I begin
An act, will set a staine upon my blushing brow:
Yet I must thorough. Lord Pindarvs, my
Fortunes carry a pardon with them, when
They make me erre in acts of ceremoniall
Decencies, they have bin so heavy and so mighty,
They have bent me so low to th'earth,
I could not cast my face upwards to hope a blessing,
The cause you are perfit in.
13
'Tis a noble sorrow, but your deepe Melancholy
Gives it too large a growth.
Lys.
Thus all doe presse it; yet had my griefe relation
Onely to my selfe, I would not part them from
My heart and memory they justly doe possesse:
But my father hath no more issue save my selfe,
For to conferre his name and fortunes on.
Pin.
Our Greece would mourne if such a glorious
Stocke should end in the most flourishing branch.
Lys.
If you doe wish it a continuance, 'tis in your
Power to make it lasting to ages. Since my
Milesia's death, I have not lov'd a Lady equall
With your Hermione, in her I hope to lose
My swolne mis-fortunes, and find out a joy
That may extinguish them: tis now no time
To tell her how much I am her servant: for
This Lord here that does pretend to her faire
Graces, before I had declar'd my selfe his
Rivall, perchance you would beleeve me, if
I had said, he no way doth deserve her.
Pin.
Where you pretend who can, but Heaven
That design'd a blessing to my child, it had
Beene pride to hope for, hath made her still
Averse to his pretences; but giving her the
Liberty of refusing, I know he is remov'd.
Lys.
Thus then to morrow I'le waite on you,
Ladies I am your servant.
Exit.
Pin.
My Lord Ergasto, you see with how much candor
I have embrac'd your love, yet though I doe
Put on a fathers strictnesse in my daughters presence,
I cannot force her to an act whereon
For ever will depend her happinesse.
My house shall still be open to you as my heart.
My businesse cals me, get you home, your servant.
Cl.
Ergasto, my Lord Ergasto, what have you left
Your tongue with your heart?
Er.
Is she not strangely faire?
Cl.
You'l not beleeve me, if I should say the contrary.
Er.
D'ee thinke that there are such faces in Elizium?
Cl.
I'me sure many better go t'other way, if they
Be not marr'd in the Voyage; but doe you
Remember where you are to meet with Phormio?
Er.
Nor any thing else, her beauty makes me forget
All things that has no Reference to it.
Cl.
Hey day, if within these two houres, if you doe
Not forget the cause of this forgetfulnesse, I'le
Be an Eunuch, what if the Prince should be your
Rivall? I cannot tell, but my Lord Pindarvs on a
Suddaine fell from his anger, to his daughter, to a
Ceremony, to you might be suspected.
Er.
'Tis a feare that makes me tremble.
14
Courage man, if you have not lost your
Memory, your remedy is certaine: there
Are more handsome faces will recompence this losse.
Let us meet Phormio.
Exeunt.
| The Lost Lady | |