THEOCRINE

And must he then suffer, his cause unheard? You entreat of me, Sir, what I should offer to you, with confession that you much undervalue your own worth, should you receive me. Since there come with you not lustful fires, but fair and lawful flames. but I must be excused, ' is now no time for me to think of Him a ll joys. Can he (and pray you, Sir, consider it) that gave me life, and faculties to love, be, as he is now ready to be devoured by ravenous wolves, and at that instant, I but entertain a thought of those delights. in which perhaps my ardor meets with your? duty and pie j forbid it, Sir. Every minute to me will be a tedious age till our embraces are warrantable to the world. I doubly feal it. Goodness reward you. Talk not of comfort, I am both ways wretched, And so distracted with my doubts and fears, I know not where to fix my Hope's. My lose Is certain in a father, or a brother, Or both, such is the cruelty of my fate, And not to be avoided. 'Tis most I , Sir, The stronger bound that binds me to you, must Dissolve the weaker. Sir did you call? I am wretched sir, should any owe more duty. On my knees sir, as I have ever squard my will by yours. And liked, and loathed with your eyes: I beseech you To teach me what the nature of my fault is, That hath incensd you, (sure is one of weakness And not of malice) which your gentler temper On my submission I hope will pardon, Which granted by your piety, if that I Out of the least neglect of mine hereafter, Make you remember it, may I sink ever Under your dread command. Dear sir: Not look on me. May they have power then To calm the tempest of your wrath, alas sir, Did I but know in what I give offence In my repentance I would show my sorrow, For what is passed, and in my care hereafter Kill the occasion or cease to be Since life without your favour is to me a load I would cast off. Why would you with h a monster For such a one or worse you have described, To call your father. Sir you have liked and loved them, and oft forced (With your hyperboles of praise poured on them) My modesty to a defensive read, Strewed over that paleness, which you then were pleased To style the purest white. I, in this you speak, sir, am ignorance it self. My obedience never learned yet to question your come mands, But willingly to serve they, yet I must Since that your will forbids the knowledge of My fault, lament my fortune. These light words ir Do ill become the weight of my sad fortune And I much wonder you that do profess Your self to be my father's bosom friend, Can raise mirth from his misery. With all real joy, I shall put what you counsel into act, Provided it be honest. You are a naughty man, indeed you are, And I will sooner perish with my father Then at this price redeem him. Do you hear? Take a pander with you. Great Sir, my father My brave deserving father, but that sorrow Forbids the use of speech. I stand prepared, To endure the shock of it. What? Heaven is just! Heaven has my thanks With all humility paid for your fair fortune, And so far duty binds me, ye a little To mou ne a brother's lose however wicked, The tenderness familiar to our sex May if you please excuse You forget Sir The presence we are in. You gripe it too hard Sir. May I still deserve it. I am anything That you shall please to make me. You teach me Sir, What I should say, since from your san of favour, I Like dim Phoebe, in her self Borrow that light I have. I have Already in my wishes, modesty Forbids me to speak more. Choose any Suiting your love distinguished from lust, To ask and mine to grant. You may Sir. Ever rew to you Sir, And may they loof the ability of fight, When they seek other object. All I can give, But what they are I know not. 'Tis most true fir, I am dead indeed to all but misery. Oh come not near me sir, I am infectious, To look on me at distance is as dangerous As from a pinnacles cloud-kissing spire, With giddy eyes to view the steep descent But to acknowledge me a certain ruin. Oh sir. Pray you turn away Your face and hear me, and with my last breath Give me leave to accuse you. What offence From my first infancy did I commit That for a punishment you should give up My Virgin chastity to the treacherous guard Of Goatish Montrevile? Abused me fir by violence, and this told I cannot live to speak more: may the cause In you find pardon, but the speeding curse Of a ravished maid fallen heavy, heavy on him, Beaufort my lawful love, farewell for ever. Montrevile You are my father's friend, nay, more a soldier, And if a right one, as I hope to find you, Though in a lawful war you had surprised A City, that bowed humbly to your pleasure, In honour you stand bound to guard a virgin From violence; but in a free estate Of which you are a limb, to do a wrong Which noble enemies never consent to Is such and insolence. They came never clothed In force, and outrage, upon what assurance (Remembering only that my father lives) Who will not tamely suffer the disgrace. Have you presumed to hurry me from his house, And as I were not worth the waiting on, To snatch me from the duty, and Of my poor servants. In what kind? How? Blessed Angels guard me What frontless impudence is this? What worser well Hath to thy certain ruin tempted thee To offer me this motion? by my Hope's Of after joys, submission, not repentance Shall expiate this soul intent. Ribald, thou darest not, And if (and with a fever to thy soul) Thou but consider that I have a father And such a father, as when this arrives at His knowledge, as it shall, the terror of His vengeance, which as sure as sa e must follow, Will make thee curse the hour in which lust caught thee To nourish these b see Hope's, and 'tis my wonder Thou darest forget how tender he is of me And that each shadow of wrong done to me Will raise in him a tempest not to be But with thy heartblood calmed: this when I see him. Wilt thou murder me? Oh me most wretched. I will not stir. Help, help, In me my brother's blood I punished at the height. Dear Sir, Hath he obed me of Mine honour, and denies me now a room To hide my shame?