Abbildungen der Seite

Dion. Why speak’st thou not?
Bel. Know you this face, my lord ?
Dion. No.
Bel. Have you not seen it, nor the like?

Dion. Yes, I have seen the like, but readily
I know not where.

Bel. I have been often told In court of one Euphrafia, a lady, And daughter to you; betwixt whom and me, They, that would flatter my bad face, would swear There was such ftrange resemblance, that we two Could not be known afunder, dreft alike.

Dion. By Heav'n, and so there is.

Bel. For her fair fake,
Who now doth spend the spring-time of her life
In holy pilgrimage, niove to the king,
That I may 'scape this torture.

Dion. But thou speak'st
As like Euphrafia, as thou dost look,
How came it to thy knowledge that she lives
In pilgrimage?

Bel. I know it not, my lord;
But I have heard it, and do scarce believe it.

Dion. Oh, my shame, is it possible ? draw near,
That I may gaze upon thee: Art thou she?
Or else her murderer ? where wert thou born ?


Bel. In Siracusa.
Dion. What's thy name?
Bel. Euphrasia.

Dion. 'Tis just ; 'tis she; now I do know thee. Oh,
That thou hadst died, and I had never seen
Thee nor my

Bel. 'Would I had died, indeed! I wish it too;
And so I must have done by vow, ere publish'd
What I have told; but that there was no means
To hide it longer; yet I joy in this,
The princess is all clear.

King. What have you done?
Dion. All is discover'd.
Are. What is discover'd ?

Dion. Why, my shame ;
It is a woman; let her speak the rest.

Phi. How ! that again.
Dion. It is a woman.

Phi. Bleft be you pow'rs that favour innocence !
It is a woman, Sir! hark, gentlemen!
It is

a woman. Arethusa, take
My soul into thy breast, that would be gone
With joy: It is a woman-thou art fair,
And virtuous still to ages, 'fpite of malice.

King. Speak you ; where lies his shame?
Bel. I am his daughter.

Phi. The gods are just. But, my Bellario,
(For I must call thee ftill fo) tell me, why
Thou didst conceal thy fex; it was a fault;
A fault, Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweigh’d it: all these jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discover'd,
What now we know,

Bel. My father oft would fpeak
Your worth and virtue, and as I did grow
More and more apprehensive, I did thirst
To see the man so prais'd; but yet all this
Was but a maiden-longing, to be lost
As soon as found ; till sitting in my window,
Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a God
I thought (but it was you) enter our gates;
My blood flew out, and back again as fast,
As I had puff’d it forth and fuck'd it in
Like breath; then was I call'd away in hafte
To entertain you.

Never was a man,
Heav'd from a sheep-cote to a sceptre, rais'd
So high in thoughts as I; you left a kiss
Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep
From you for ever ; I did hear you talk,
Far above singing ; after you were gone
I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd
What stirr'd it fo: alas, I found it love;


[ocr errors]

Yet far from ill, for could I have but liv'd
In presence of you, I had had my end;
For this I did delude my noble father
With a feign’d pilgrimage, and dress’d myself
In habit of a boy ; and, for I knew
My birth no match for you, I was past hope
Of having you: And understanding well
That when I made discovery of my fex, .
I could not stay with you ; I made a vow,
By all the most religious things a maid
Could call together, never to be known,
Whilst there was hope to hide me from mens'

For other than I feem'd, that I might ever
Abide with you ; then fat I by the fount,
Where first you took me up.

King. Search out a match
Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt,
And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself
Wilt well deserve him.

Bel. Never, Sir, will I
Marry; it is a thing within my vow.

Phi. I grieve, such virtues should be laid in earth
Without an heir.—Hear me, my royal father,
Wrong not the freedom of our souls so much,
To think to take revenge of that base woman ;


Her malice cannot hurt us ; fet her free
As she was born, saving from shame and fin.

King. Well! be it so. You, Pharamond,
Shall have free passage, and a conduct home
Worthy so great a prince; when you come there,
Remember,'twas your fault that lost you her,
And not my purpos'd will.

Pha. I do confefs it.
King. Last, join your hands in one. Enjoy, Phi-

This kingdom, which is yours, and after me
Whatever I call mine; my blessing on you !
All happy hours be at your marriage-joys,
That you may grow yourselves over all lands,
And live to see your plenteous branches spring
Where-ever there is sun!--Let princes learn
By this to rule the passions of their blood!
For what Heav'n wills, can never be withstood,

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]
« ZurückWeiter »