EUGENIA

I ever was obed ient— Or my Prison Sir, if I do rightly understand. A Dear it seems, For as you had suspicion of my wildness, You'll measure out my walk. Do you suspect I shall break Prison? Sir, I am your Daughter. What narrow ground I tread? I know he is Too passionate to be denied his will, And yet to yield will make me miserable; It's my misfortune to be born so great. Each common man and woman can I joy The air, when the condition of a Princess Makes me a Prisoner. But I must obey In hope it will not last—I have a Soul Is full of grateful duty, nor will suffer me Further dispute your precept: you have power To steer me as you please. I shall be pleased with your appointment, Ladies, I know you love me. I do not doubt, Or if I did, you now approach a Trial, For my sa e can you be content to be All Prisoners. You shall but suffer with me: I partake As much Severity, as any of you shall. Nothing to want indeed: to be A Prisoner speaks all Misery. He expects Not such a full stream of happiness, heaven dispose him To meet it quickly, Indeed I shall think Time has lost his wings When I am thus Caged up. Yes, shut up close Prisoners, and be barred The , nay the sighed of men. There are some thoughts that stick upon my memory, I would feign discharge. And voices if you please. With all my heart. Hark, the Bell. Exit Donella, and enters again with a letter. Would! whence—from Florence? reads. This is my father's practice, isle peruse the Paper. That of Jupiter and Danae comes near our own. You shall dispose the rest. The new Prison! why? Was ever Father to his Child So unkind, it makes me wild. When to beguile a tedious hour, From the top of this high Tower, I see every other Creature, Enjoy a Liberty by Nature. Can the silver running Fountains. And the Cloud aspiring Mountains. very Grove, and flowery field, ut a new Affliction yield. A dream! Alas it's no relief For us to flatter so much grief. Fancy wants power to delight, Or if we could think it might, Such a dream so sad would make us, That it could ot choose but wake us. This is his hour to visit us. If my brow so sad appear My Fortune's Livery I wear, He's gone and leaveth us behind To tell our passion to the wind. Would? what oth' sudden does surprise My active motion? On my eyes What dark and heavy Cloud does fit, To persuade me it is Night, It is some Charm, I cannot keep These windows open, I must sleep. The Bell—News from my Father. A Cage—if from Florence it shall to the fire, Or whences be it cannot be intended But as a Mockery of my Restraint I'm very sad oth' sudden: would? 'tis so Break it to pieces. Yet spare the Workmanship, in the perufall There is something pleads for Mercy:—I feel within Some alteration, I know not what Let me entreat your absence for some Minutes, I am in earnest, pray do without Reply. Your eyes shell feed with plenteous satisfaction On this gay object, when I call you. Yet can't I say I am alone, that have So many Partners in Captivity? Sweet fellow Prisoners, 'twas a cruel Art, The first Invention to restrain the wing. To keep inhabitants oth' air close Captive That were created to Sky freedom: Surely The merciless Creditor took his first Light And Prisons their first Models from such Bird Loops; I know the Nightingale is not long lived, See how that Turtle mourns wanting her Mate. And does the Duke my Father, think I'can, Take Comfort either in restraint, or in The sighed of these that every moment do Present it to me, were these tendered me? They shall no more be Prisoners to please me, Nor shall the woods be robbed of so much Music: Sir, what are you? You are not mine, for in this bold Attempt You have undone me. You're too near, I will discover you, that I fallen my self by your presumption. For my sake? What Relation has my Birth Or any passion I call mine to you. Would? this is a strange accident. It will be death how ever. How I'm perplexed. He speaks all mystery, I shannot get him off I fear without some stain. For my sake. Audacious Sir, I shall grow loud if you forget your distance Nor that you may hold long—— I'm studying how I should be rid of him without their Knowledge: yet that's dangerous too, and might Show gilded in me, for he will boast on't. This is a fine Paradox. Bold Villain For these uncivil most unhallowed words, I'll die but I'll undo thee. Would? the Prince of Florence. Purchase?—I am not bought and sold I hope? Your's Prince? I do not know by what Title you pretend this claim; I never yet remember that I saw you, And if I had any interest in my self, Produce your witness, when I gave it you, I have possession yet, ere I deliver it, You must show stronger evidence. Contracted? when? where?—Good Prince I pity your abuse. Mine cannot give away my heart. Shall not Prince, your travail and your trouble With this Conceit to boot, were it your own Invention, withal your Birds about you That can take me. It takes not from The greatness of your State, or blood my Lord To say I cannot Love you, since Affection Flows uncompelled, and rests in the clear object, Nor do I rob your person of joust value, If to me other seem as fair, and comely For e may apparel, and become what we Affect, not cause true Love, you have enough To promise you a happier choice, attempt A Nobler Fate, and leave me to my self And humble Destiny, for know Florentine I have but one Faith, one Love, and though my Father Lock up my person, it's beyond his Will To make me false to him I gave my faith to. And you're not Noble now if you proceed, Be then what you were born, and do not tempt A woman to commit a Sacrilege: For when I give my heart to any other Then my Philenzo, I commit that sin. My deer banished Philenzo! I will make it mine. What for our safety? How? They are mine, what should our innocence Fear in their knowledge, I desire to hear The Circumstance of this wonder Hold I beseech you Let not my duty suffer misconstruction If while my knee does beg your blessing, here I throw my arms, and circle next to Heaven What must be dearest to me. My joy of life. Alas-I would preserve all, am so far from killing, That I would die my self, rather than see One drop of blood forced frow his crimson Fountain, Or but one tear racked from your eye, o hear me And after let your anger strike two dead. So you would let us dwell both in one Grave; And did you know how near we were in life You would not think it fitting that in death Our ashes were divided, you have herd When the poor Turtle's ravished from her Mate The Orphant Dove does groan away her life In Widows solitude, let me call him husband And tell your self the rest. I do beseech you hear me. Yet will you hear me. Your daughters knees join with his bent hear To beg your pardon. O my Philenzo. O do not mock me Sir, to add to my Affliction, you never would give me to him. Not so Sir, If yet you'll give me leave to make my choice I'll not despair to find a Husband. Here Royal Sir, Philenzo is not dead But made by Virtue of a drink to seem so Thus to prevent his suffering, that I might Or other friend by my confederacy By begging of his body fit for burial, Preserve him from your anger. Let me beg your pardon, Confident of your change to mercy, I have Confessed what terror could not force me to. Thou art Philenzo, and all this is truth, My Father is Converted. Well I'm contented, it'll suit with my present for tun Let me go too.