EUGENIO

May the gods give you, Madam, a content As high, as you have power to bestow On those you favour, and then your happiness Will be as great as is your beauty. Madam, forbear your tears, they are a ransom Too mighty to redeem the greatest faith The gods were ever witness to. I know Whereto you tend, you woudl have me untie The knot that bound our loves, and I will do't, Though it be fastened to my strings of life: Be happy in your choice, give to his merit, What once you promised to my perfect love, By which I only did pretend my claim: I do release you, as I know heaven has; Who in his justice cannot have consented To a longer faith in you; you must not be The conquest of a miserable man, Over whom their cruelest influences reign. Of you I can have none, but what excuse you: You had made me miserable, had not your faith Yielded to those assaults; as worth and greatness Titles your father's rage, and your own judgement Did shake and raze it, with what disturbed mind Should I have looked on you my heart adored, And love made miserable? still you weep, But these are tears your fortune did lay up To ease your misery: had you contained mine, And your Suns cleared from their last clouds, They will more freely shine upon your Lysicles: For my self, my love in his last act shall recompense The injuries it as done to your repose By killing me, then must injustice fly, And hale inconstancy along with her, From your fair conquered soul they now possess. You that by powerful prayers have diverted And imminent ruin, inspire me with fit words To appease my injured Mistress; hear me, do not kneel for mercy, but to beg Your leave to die: I must not live When pardons make my oftence most horrible, And hell is here without them; take a middle way If you incline to mercy, and forget me. Then hear a wretched man, that has outlived So much his Hope's, he knows not what to wish, Whither to live or die; yet life for this I only seek, that you may find I shrink not To punish him your Justice has condemned. Never, it shall live here to honour me, Since pirty of my love made you decline it: But must— — Wretched Eugenio, did thy coward Fate Not dare to strike thee, till thou turnedst thy back: Must I return from banishment to find My Hope's are banished? Did I for this love Virtue, Purtued her rugged paths, when danger made Her horrid to the valiant, to be ruined By him that is most virtuous? Ye gods, Was envy, malice, Fortune impotent To injure me, but you must raise up Virtue To suppress me—If I suffer it, I shall deserve it. Time enough to revenge, though not prevent The injuries you have done me. I must not hear that name now, you have lost The effects and virtue of it: I come to punish Your breach of faith. Those that by breach of vows provoke their justice, Do seldom fear profaning of their names, To hide their perjuries will put it on them. You have attempted my Hermione, And forced her father to compel her voice Unto your Marriage. Hell and furies: because your specious titles, Your spreading Vineyards, and your guilded house Do shine upon our Cottage, must our faiths, Which Heaven did seal, be canceled; 'twas my virtue Won her fair graces, which still outshine Your flames of vice. I have don't already: they were trusting you With my life's happiness: draw, and restore the vows You made Hermione, or I will leave you dead, And tear them from your heart. Can you deny but that you have attempted The faith of my Hermione? What should I do? I dare not trust my sense, If he should tell me that it does deceive me: Virtue it self would loose her quality Ever he forsook her, and his words do fallen Distorted from him; his soul does labour Under some heavy burden, which my passion Did hinder me from seeing. Sir forgive, Or take your full revenge; let your own griefs Teach you to pity those are distract with it: I will not rise until you pardon me. Who can hear this, and not be turned to Marble? Good Sir impart your sorrows, I may bring comfort. What have you said that is not? But heaven avert this last. What is't? You cannot wish me such and hated office: Call up your reasons and your courage to you, Which was not given you only for the wars, But to resist the batteries of Fortune. People will say, that Lysicles did want Partly of that courage Fame did speak him Lord of, When they shall hear him sunk below her succour. When I believe there is no other means to ease you, I will doe't. Then draw your sword, and as J lift my arm To sheath this in your breast, let yours pierce me, On this condition J may do your will. See how your passion blind you; is Death And ease or torment? if it be a joy, Why should you envy it your dearest friend? They will be when you are dead: How you mistake The Laws of Friendship and commit those faults You did accuse me of! J would not live so long To think you can survive your dying friend. Your grief's too great for me to trust your life with't: I dare not venture you beyond my help. Within. Where's Prince Lysicles? where's Prince Lysicles? Fie; how unmanly's this? Can sounds affright you, Which yet you know not whither they do bring Or joys, or sorrows? when remedies are despaired of, You have still leave to die; perhaps she lives, And yowl exhale her soul into your wounds, And be the death of her you mourn for living. Within. Where's Prince Lysicles? where's Prince Lysicles? It is the voice of comfort, none would strive To be a sad relator; I'll call him, holla, here he is. Will you die now? Why should you doubt it? So, it's well, at length his hope hath taught despair to fear. Your friendship does it. A notable wooing this. May I believe, all advantageous words, Or may I doubt them, seeing they come from you Who are all truth? I will not speak How undeserving I am of these favours, Because I will not wrong the Election Your gracious pity forceth on your Judgement. You are all goodness, and my services Ever directed by your will, shall show, Though I can never merit this great honour, I will do nothing shall deprive me of The honour of your love and favour.