 | A Fine Companion |  |
Scena. II.
Valeria, Æmilia, Spruse.Val.
See here he comes againe.
Spr.
I come sweet Lady,
To reare the trophies of your conquest up.
And yield my selfe the greatest.
Val.
What's the matter?
Spr.
Your lookes haue tane me prisoner. I am captiu'd,
Bound with the golden chaine of your loose haire,
And on your frownes depends my destiny.
Val.
Tis about the old matter; you may saue
This labour or goe seeke some new devise.
In faith these stale exordiums can not take me.
Val.
Indeed my sister, and I, know you well enough.
Spr.
But Lady since my change you doe not know me.
I am now Metamorphis'd, and that fancy
That roved, and was rebellious, by her power
Is brought within command.
Val.
I so you told me.
Spr.
Here I present a sad oblation.
And burnes before your beauties diety.
Offer'd vp with as much deuotion,
As ever true loue sacrifised any.
Val.
Well you may jest with mortalls, but I am not
So blind, but I can see through all your mists:
Were I a goddesse, as you terme mee one,
Sister to Phœbus, or armd like Minirva.
I would transforme you straight; and fix you vp
A monument, for your Hypocrisy.
Spr.
Now by that sacred shrine, brighter then Venus.
To whom I pay my Orizons: that forme
That faire Idea, that rules all my thoughts,
Thy selfe I meane, that spotlesse seat of pleasure:
The continent of all perfection,
This spring of loue, that issues from my soule.
Runnes in a streame as pure, as are your vertues,
Full fraught with zeale, immaculate and free
From all adulterate mixtures.
Ual.
On my life.
I can not frame mee to beleeue one word.
Æmi.
Hold thy owne there wench, and I warrant thee.
Spr.
Phœbus, how haue I anger'd thee, to lay
Cassandra's curse on mee that was not trusted:
When shee spake true and most prophetically?
Æmi.
Sir, he that is accustom'd to deceiue.
Gaines this reward by it when he speakes truth,
Not to be credited.
Spr.
Observe mee Lady.
And marke the harmony, does it not sound
Vpon the string; as if my heart kept touch?
Val.
And so it sounded first to the same tune.
Spr.
That was ill sett, this is a different passion.
Val.
But 'tis all shew; and nothing serious.
Spr.
You can not judge by former evidence.
It is no fitt proofe to confirme this motion,
This is a true text, that a false glosse of it.
Val.
But I shall never so interpret it.
Spr.
What can I say more, then to sware I loue you.
Ual.
But should you now dissolve your eyes to teares,
And every gesture, every motion in you,
An Hierogliphicke to comend that loue:
Had you the spells of it, and magicke charmes
Set round about the circle of your armes,
To draw mee to you, I would seale my eares,
Deafe as the sea, to shiprack't marriners:
And so I leave you to your better fortunes.
Exunt Ualeria, Æmilia.
Valeria looses her ring in a paper.
Spr.
Am I despis'd, and slighted? foolish girle,
Th'hast lost thy selfe, that which is best in nature,
Turnes to the worst corruption, my scorn'd loue
Shall now convert to hatred. Tis decreed,
Fraud and revenge shall be my counsellors;
Whats heere, a ring? shee lost it now. I know it,
The same Aurelio, wont to weare on's finger;
He sent it as a gift, 'tis so, the poesy.
In loue I write
All my griefe, all my delight.
The very same. Were I best poyson it,
And send it backe to her? No, it shall serve
To poyson her good name; there's no foule fact,
That Love, when it is injur'd, dares not act.
Exit.
| A Fine Companion | |