LIDIA

Must you goo then So suddenly? Your own goodness Will be your faithful guard. Sir, I was And ever am your servant, but it was, And it's far from me, in a thought to cherish Such saucy Hope's: If I had been the heir Of all the Globes and Sceptres mankind bows to, At my best you had deserved me; as I am How ever unworthy, in my virgin zeal I wish you as a partner of your bed, A Princess equal to you, such a one That may make it the study of her life, With all th'obedience of a wife to please you. May you have happy issue, and I live To be their humblest handmaid. Give me leave To wait on you to your horse. Sir, I, you have it. My Lord, though silence best becomes a Maid, And to be curious to know but what concerns my self, and with becoming distance, May argue me of boldness, I must borrow So much of modesty as to inquire Prince Giovannies health? Would 'twere so, And then there is no blessing that can make A hopeful and a noble Prince complete, But should fallen on him. Oh, he was our North star, The light and pleasure of our eyes. What's your will Sir? My hand joined to yours Without this superstition confirms it. Nor need I fear you will dwell long upon me, The barrenness of the subject yielding nothing That Rhetoric with all her tropes and figures Can amplify. Yet since you are resolved To prove your self a Courtier in my praise, As I am a woman (and you men affirm Our sex loves to be flattered) I'll endure it. Now when you please begin. You need not noble Sir be thus transported, Or trouble your invention to express Your thought of me: the plainest phrase and language That you can use, will be too high a strain For such and humble Theme. I never was proud, Nor can find I am guilty of a thought Deserving this neglect, and strangeness from you, Nor am I amorous. Pray you Sir, Or licence me to leave you, or deliver The reasons which invite you to command My tedious waiting on you. It's true, I was not bred in Court, not live a star there, Nor shine in rich embroideries, and pearl, As they that are the Mistress's of great Fortune's, Are every day adorned with. Yet I may be bold For my integrity, and fame, to rank With such as are more glorious. Though I never Did injury, yet I am sensible When I am contemned, and scorned. Oh the difference of nature's. Giovanni, A Prince in expectation, when he lived here, Stole courtesy from heaven, and would not to The meanest servant in my Father's house Have kept such distance. And I can hear. The harshness of your Courtship Cannot corrupt my courtesy. Provided you be modest, I were uncivil else. So you At your return to Court, do me the favour To make a tender of my humble service To the Prince Giovanni. That, as I shall find you. The Fort that's yielded at the first assault, Is hardly worth the taking. That custom grants you. Under your favour Sir, His coming hither was to little purpose For any thing I herd from him. All you speak Sir I hear as Oracles, nor will digress From your directions. As I would my life Sir. For the Count, Sir, All thought of him does with his person die; But I confess ingenuously I cannot So soon forget the choice, and chased delights The courteous conversation of the Prince, And without stain I hope, afforded me When he made this house a Court. Who have we here? It's most Courtly. Sure he's mad. That this comes only from the best of Princes, With a kind of adoration does command me To entertain it, and the sweet contents That are inscribed here by his hand, must be Much more then musical to me. All the service Of my life at no partly can deserve this favour. Oh what a virgin longing I feel on me. To unrip the seal, and read it, yet to break What he hath fastened, rashly, may appear A saucy rudeness in me. I must do it, (Nor can I else learn his commands, or serve'em) But with such reverence, as I would open Some holy Writ, whose grave instructions Beatrice down Rebellious sins, and teach my better partly How to mount upward. So, it's done, & I With Eagles eyes will curiously peruse it. Chaste Lidia: the favours are so great On me by you conferred, that to entreat The least addition to they, in true sense May argue me of blushless impudence. But such are my extremes, if you deny A farther grace, I must unpitied die. Hast cuts off circumstance; as you are admired for beauty, the report of it hath fired The Duke my Uncle, and I fear you'll prove, Not with a sacred, but unlawful love. If he see you, as you are, my hoped light Is changed into and everlasting night. How to prevent it, if your goodness find You save two lives, and me you ever bind, The honourer of your virtues, Giovanni. Were I more deaf then Adders, these sweet charms Would through my ears find passage to my soul, And soon inchant it: To save such a Prince Who would not perish? Virtue in him must suffer, And piety be forgotten. The Dukes lust Though it raged more then Tarquin's, shall not reach me. All quaint inventions of chased virgins aid me! My prayers are herd, I have't. The Duke never saw me, Or if that fail, I am again provided. But for the servants! They will take what form I please to put upon them. Giovanni. Be safe, thy servant Lidia assures it. Let mountains of afflictions fallen on me, Their weight is easy, so I set thee free. I am indisposed Sir, And that life you tendered once, much endangered In forcing me from my Chamber. All is discovered. Will your Grace hear me? I am faint and can say little. Oh me most miserable! That being innocent, make others guilty. Most gracious Prince! My knees shall first be rooted in this earth, And Mirrha Like I'll grow up to a tree, Dropping perpetual tears of sorrow, which Hardened by the rough wind, and turned to amber, Unfortunate virgins Like my self shall wear, Before I'll make Petition to your Greatness But with such reverence, my hands held up thus, As I would do to heaven. You Princes are As gods on earth to us, and to be sued too With such humility, as his Deputies May challenge from their vassals. That you would look upon me As and humble thing, that millions of degrees Is placed beneath you. For what am I dread sir? Or what can fallen in the whole course of my life, That may be worth your care, much less your trouble? As the lowly shrub is to the lofty Cedar, Or a molehill to Olympus, if compared, I am to you Sir. Or suppose the Prince, (Which cannot find belief in me,) forgetting The greatness of his birth and Hope's, hath thrown And eye of favour on me, in me punish, (That am the cause) the rashness of his youth. Shall the Queen of the inhabitants of the air, The Eagle that bears thunder on her wings, In her angry mood destroy her hopeful young, For suffering a Wren to perch too near they? Such is our disproportion. For me poor Maid, I know the Prince to be so far above me, That my wishes cannot reach him. Yet I am So much his creature, that to fix him in Your wonted grace and favour, I'll abjure His sighed for ever, and betake my self To a religious life (where in my prayers I may remember him) and never see man more But my ghostly father. Will you trust me Sir? In truth I'll keep my word? or if this fail, A little more of fear what may befall him, Will stop my breath for ever. I'll do my best Sir. Pray you Sir Be comforted, your innocence should not know What it's to fear, and if that you but look on The guards that you have in your self, you cannot. The Duke's your Uncle Sir, and though a little Incensed against you, when he sees your sorrow He must be reconciled. What rugged Tartar, Or Canniball, though bathed in humane gore, But looking on your sweetness, would forget His cruel nature, and let fallen his weapon, Though then aimed at your throat? Sir. You are pleased to show Sir The fluency of your language, in advancing A Subject much unworthy. And Prince too; Do not make void so just a grant. In your birth Sir You were marked out the Judge of life, and death, And we that are your Subject's to attend With trembling fear your doom. He told me so indeed Sir.