 | The Shipwreck |  |
SCENE VII.
Enter PTOLEMOCRATIA, Priestess of Venus, from the Temple.Who are these,
That lowly bending to my Patroness
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Of some poor supplicants has drawn me hither.
Their suit is to a good and gracious Goddess,
A Patroness most gentle, and most kind.
Pal.
Save you, good mother!
Ptol.
Save you, my sweet girls!
Whence do you come, so woefully array'd,
In these wet garments?
Pal.
Lastly, from a place
Not far from hence, but 'tis a great way off
Whence we were borne at first.
Ptol.
Ye came forsooth
By sea then.
Pal.
You judge right.
Ptol.
Ye should have come
Cloathed in white, and bringing victims with you.—
'Tis not the practice to approach our temple
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Pal.
Ah! whence should we,
We that were cast away, have got us victims?
In need of succour, destitute of hope,
In a strange land, we now embrace your knees:
O let your roof receive and shelter us;
Have pity on two hapless wanderers,
Who have no place of refuge, no, nor hope,
Nor any thing indeed but what you see.
Ptol.
Give me your hands: rise both: no woman ever
Was more inclin'd to pity; but alas!
My state is poor and mean: hardly indeed
I get support, and for a livelihood
I serve our Venus.
Pal.
Is this Venus' temple?
Ptol.
The same; and I'm her Priestess.—Such as 'tis,
You shall find here a courteous entertainment,
As far as my scant means will give me power.—
Come then with me.
Pal.
You tender us, good mother,
With a most kind affection.
Ptol.
'Tis my duty.
| The Shipwreck | |