 | Imperiale, a tragedie |  |
Scena Quarta.
Imperiale, Honoria, Angelica, Nugella attending.Impe.
How comes it, deare, that the clear sky, thy looks,
Is suddenly o're-cast? what misty vapour
Hath rais'd those stormy clouds? can bright Aurora
Rise cheerfully from shrivel'd Tythons bed?
And thou so discontentedly from mine?
But I'le not doubt the cause to spring from me,
Rather from feare of yong Prince Doria's safety,
Whose great affaires perhaps have made him stretch
His promise to the utmost, not to breake it,
Though he could not prevent our expectation,
He'l not deceive't, but like th'approaching Sunne,
Will soone expell these mists, and cheere our hearts.
Hon.
I am solicitous, I must confesse
Of his returne, whom we have long expected,
To whom we have design'd our onely daughter,
And with her both our fortunes and our loves:
But the true cause of all these perturbations
Which you discover in my countenance,
Is a strange dreame (heaven make it but a dreame)
And I perhaps should but have thought it so,
Had not my daughter, ev'n this very night,
And the same houre, as neere as we can guesse,
With the like vision been disquieted:
Me thought we harbour'd in our house a Wolfe,
Bred up so tame, that all did handle him,
Til on a time, accompanied with another
Of his owne race, he rush't into the chamber
Where I together with my Daughter sate,
There they resum'd their native crueltie:
The one assaulted her, the other me,
And tearing first our Iewells from our necks,
They made us both at length their fatall prey:
Ang.
Oh, how the terrour of that dreadfull vision
Affrights my Soule! I tremble when I thinke on't:
Me thought the heartstrings of Prince Doria crack't
At the dire newes, it prov'd the overthrowe
Of our whole Family: we differ but in this,
The Savadge executioners to me
Seem'd to be Beares, creatures as bloody as wolves.
Imp.
It is no wonder that your dreames concurr'd,
Since there is that relation in your blood:
I must beleeve, you had the day before
Communicated some sad thoughts together,
Which in the night your wakefull fantasies
From a like temperature of braine reduc't
Into like formes, suggesting that for truth
Which is at best but fond imagination;
What can be vainer then a womans dreame?
T'is lesse to be regarded then her teares,
Which are prepar'd to flow at her command.
Hon.
Cassandra's true predictions were dispis'd.
Imp.
And well they might, had Troy bin provident.
Hon.
Many at length deplore their unbeleife.
Imp.
But more lament their rash credulitie.
Hon.
Future events by dreames have bin reveal'd.
Imp.
So did old wisards doubtfull things vnfould
By flights of birds, such witchcrafts now are seas'd,
And we from those darke errours are releas'd:
To talke of visions is an indiscretion,
Practis'd by Children, and distemperd persons:
Go then; prepare your selves for solid joyes,
On this day the Republick yearly paies
And as I heare (the time being Carnivall)
Some mirth shall season our solemnitie;
If Doria come to day, as we expect,
To morow nothing shall be heard of us
But songs of Hymen and Thalassius.
Hon.
Never could any wretches be more glad
To be deceiv'd.
Ang.
My heart continues sad.
| Imperiale, a tragedie | |