University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Favonius and Valeria.
Favon.
Ah, fair Valeria—fair as morning light,
And gentler than its dew drops—hold me not
So churlish, as to close my eyes, or heart,
To thy bright form or mind! I do confess,
I find them, both, pre-eminently lovely—
But—

Valeria.
But what, my lord?—Ah, that impending but!—
Say—strike at once, and let me learn my fate,
In all its horrors!

Favon.
O, that just Heaven had form'd some nobler youth,
Sweet as thy manners, as thy person lovely;
Endow'd with all that Heaven itself could give
Of goodness or of glory—with a heart,
That to thine own struck unison; that own'd,
In all the givings of the bounteous gods,
No blessing but Valeria!

Valeria.
No—rather that the goddesses, who strove
On Ida for pre-eminence, had graced me
With their joint gifts—to wisdom adding empire,
And charms of irresistible attraction!—
Or, to express my every wish in one,
That they had made me worthy—O ye gods!
Must I betray the secret of my soul?—
That they had made me worthy of Favonius!

Favon.
Alas!—even so, Favonius would have had
No heart to give.
Ha!—do ye mock me, gods!—or is it more
Than a bless'd vision?—Yes, she comes upon me,
Like dawning on the darkness, bringing hope,
And healing in her hand!—