University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Scene changes to Bassino's Lodgings, and discovers the Count in his Night-Gown, a Table with Lights, and Letters lying on the Table.
Bas.
All things lye husht in peaceful silence here:
All but Bassino's mind—Oh! happy he
Who lives secure and free from Love's Alarms.
But happier far, who, master of himself,
Ranges abroad without that Clog, a Wife.
Oh! rigorous Laws impos'd on free-born Man!
On Man, by bounteous Nature first design'd
The Soveraign Lord of all the Universe!
Why must his generous Passion thus be starv'd,
And be confin'd to one alone?
The Woman, whom Heaven sent as a Relief;
To ease the burden of a Tedious Life,
And be enjoy'd when summon'd by desire,
Is now become the Tyrant of our Fates.
Takes up a Letter.
But hold, Bassino! whither does thy Passion
Hurry thy wandering Reason; Let this Letter
Recall the Fugitive, and fix thy Senses
On dutious Love—A Wife, so young, so fair,
So excellent; whose Charms not three months since
Did fire thy Soul; a Wife who dotes on Thee;
A Wife to whom thou sworest eternal love—
By Heaven, I swear again I will be true.
This Thought again restores my peace of mind—
No, charming Wife; no, dear Placentia, no,
Thou shalt not beg in vain: I will return:
Kisses the Letter.
But who comes here—My Friend Armando?

Enter Armando.
Arm.
Dear friend, I heard
The conflict of your Passion, and my joys
Are now compleat, since Vertue gains the day.

Bas.
Yes, dear Armando, the conflict is o're,
And I'm resolv'd to fly to my Plaencta

Arm.
Cherish that Thought: By Heaven your Resolution
Transports my Soul with joy!
A kind, a vertuous Wife waits your Embraces;
A Wife, who like a Turtle mourns the absence
Of her dear Mate. Haste then, my Friend, to drive
That cloud of sorrow which o'recasts her mind,
And, like the Sun, dispell her gloomy thoughts:

Bas.
Thanks for your Counsel—
You like a God support my feeble Vertue.
This very morning I'll prepare for Turin,
Where time and absence will deface the image
Of that bewitching Beauty, which now haunts
My tortur'd mind—Yet, first I'll take my leave
Of this fair Charmer—And Heaven grant
That I may see her unconcern'd—

Arm.
My Lord what d' you mean?
Have you well weigh'd the Danger of this Visit?

Bas.
What Danger can there be?

Arm.
Danger! my Lord—Consider well how feeble
Our Reason is against the pow'r of Beauty—

Bas.
My Resolution's firm; no charm can shake it.

Arm.
If not her Beauty, fear her Syren Tongue;
Fear her endearing Prayers, her fond Reproaches,
Her tender Sighs, her Vows, her trickling Tears.
Nay—if all these prove vain, fear her Despair,
A Woman, an abandon'd Womans Rage.

Bas.
Were there more Dangers yet, I'll stand 'em all;
My Honour bids me pay this parting Visit:
My Heart shall have no share in what I'll speak.
Trust me this once, and be your self a witness
Bassino can controul unlawful love—

Arm.
My Lord, 'tis with Regret I see you go.
May Heaven assist you in this dangerous strife.

Exeunt.