ROSEILLI

Worser Epart the Court. You'ar Secretary to the State and him, Great in his counsels, wise, & (I think) honest, Have you, in turning over old Records, Read but one name descended of the house Of Le , in his loyalty remiss? Why then should I now, now, when glorious peace Triumphs in change of pleasures, be wiped off, Like to a useless moth, from Courtly ease: And whither must I go? Why then 'tis Like I'm banished. Do, Politician, do: I scent the plot of this disgrace; it's Fiormonda, she, That glorious Widow, whose commanding check Ruins my Love; Like foolish beasts, thus they Find danger, that prey too near the Lions den. Sir, the joy I should have welcomed you with, is wrapped up In Clouds of my disgrace; yet, honoured Sir, Howsoever frowns of great ones cast me down, My service shall pay tribute in my lowness, To your uprising virtues. You are, my Lord Fernando, late returned From travels; pray instruct me, since the voice Of most supreme Authority commands My absence: I determine to bestow Some time in learning Languages abroad; Perhaps the change of air may change in me Remembrance of my wrongs at home: Good Sir Inform me; say I meant to live in Spain, What benefit of knowledge might I treasure? What for France? Yet, me thought, I herd you and the Duchess, two nights since, Discoursing of and Island thereabouts Called—let me think—'twas— That, pray Sir, You have been there, me thought I herd you praise it. My Lord, ou have much cased me, I resolve. My Lord for travel, To speed for England. Dares my Cozen trust me? The Duke's at hand, And I must hence, my service to your Lordship's. Is't possible the Duke should be so moved? I entertain it, with a greater joy Then shame can check. Is ever man was bounden to a friend— A, a, a, a, I. Can speak; De e e e e— Dud—a clap cheek for noun sake gaffer. h ee e e e e. V v umh—v v umh—wone not, wone not—v v umh Will go, to e e—go will go— Will—tie—to Dam new toate sure la now. Have bid seen all Dam fine knack, and d'ee Naghtye tattle of Dam kna we, dad la have so. Are we safe? Then let me cast my self beneath thy foot, True for vous Lord: Know then, Sir, her proud heart Is only flx'd on you in such extremes Of violence and passion, that I fear, Or shee'll enjoy you, or shee'll ruin you. I observed Even now, a kind of dangerous pretence In and unjointed phrase from D'auolos: I know not his intent, but this I know, He has a working brain, is minister To all my Ladies counsels; and (my Lord) Pray heaven there have not any thing befallen Within the knowledge of his subtle Art, To do you mischief. I, do; admit you could, mean time, my Lord, Be nearest to your self, what I can learn You shall be soon informed of: here is all We fools can catch the wise in; to unknot By privilege of coxcombs, what they plot.— Oh Sir! My fears exceed my knowledge, yet I note No less then you infer: all is not well, Would 'twere: whosoever thrive, I shall be sure Never to rise to my unhoped desires: But Cozen, I shall tell you more anon; Mean time pray send my Lord Fernando to me, I covet much to speak with him. As still I hoped: My Lord you are undone. Lost; and I fear your life is bought and sold; I'll tell you how: late in my Ladies chamber, As I by ehance lay slumbering on the mats, In comes the Lady Marquess, and with her, Julia and D'auolos; where sitting down, Not doubting me, Madam (quoth D'auolas) We have discovered now the nest of shame: In short, my Lord, (for you already know As much as they reported) there was told The circumstance of all your private love And meetings with the Duchess; when at last False D'auolos concluded with and oath, Wee'll make (quoth he) his heartstrings crack for this. Of you: I (quoth the Marquess) Were not the Duke a baby, he would seek Swift vengeance; for he knew it long ago. You are too safe In your destruction. Here have a plum for Ie'ee— Wonder not, Madam, here behold the man Whom your disdain hath metamorphosed: Thus long have I been clouded in this shape, Led on by Love; and in that love, despair: If not the sighed of our distracted Court, Nor pity of my bondage, can reclay me The greatness of your scorn, yet let me know My latest doom from you. Blessed for ever, blessed be the words: In death you have revived me. Bear off, bloodthirsty man, come not near me. Ill has thy life been, worse will be thy end; Men fleshed in blood, know seldom to amend. He's dead already, Madam. First thank to heaven, next Lady to your love; Lastly, my Lords, to all: and that the entrance Into this principality may give Fair Hope's of being worthy of our place, Our first work shall be justice.— D'auolo Stand forth. No, graceless villain, I am no Lord of thine: Guard take him hence, Convey him to the prisons top; in chains Hang him alive; whosoever lends a bit Of bred to feed him, die: speak not against it, I will be deaf to mercy.—Bear him hence. Madam, a second charge is to perform Your brother's Testament; wee'll rear a Tomb To those unhappy Lovers, which shall tell Their fatal Loves to all posterity. Thus then for you, henceforth I here dismiss The mutual comforts of our marriagebed: Learn to new live, my vows v moved shall stand: And since your life hath been so much uneven, Bethink, in time, to make your peace with heaven. It's your desert: Which no persuasion shall remove. Please the to walk, Lord Abbot. I see him lost already, If all prevail not, we shall know too late, No toil can shun the violence of Fate.