DULCINO

My Lord? Do not suspect my Lord, I am so wicked, Not to do that already, you have saved My life, and therefore have deserved that duty. It is not in your power, to make me richer, With any benefit, shall succeed it, though I should live ever with you. Any whither. It is the readiest I can study Sir. To tarry were but to increase my debt, And wast your favours, in my absence, I May publish, how much virtue, I have found In Savoy, and make good unto your fame, What I do owe you here, this shall suruine you, For I will speak the story with that truth, And strength of passion, it shall do you honour, And dwell upon your name sweeter then mythe, When we are both dead? There is no fear my Lord, that I shall take Such wicked courses, and I hope you see not, Any propension in my youth, to sin For Pride, or wantonness. Believe me Sir, I will not serve the greatest Prince on earth, When I leave you. You command me. I have command Sir, to deliver it, To none, but to my Lady. Your Steward Madam, is too full of zeal, To do me a preferment, but I have No other ambition, then to commend This paper to your white hands, Not perfect Madam, until you bless him with The knowledge of your constancy. He gave me no Commission for that Lady He will soon save that question, by his presence. He said, what a warm lover, when desire Makes eloquent could speak, he said you were Both star and Pilot. Fame ha not Injured him, in the Character of his person, And his shape promises a richer Soul, I feel a new, and fiery spirit dance, Upon my amorous heartstrings. Madam, the Duke observes us. I would seen him, It is no common face. The Duke is troubled? I hope he won't take me from my Lady, I'll say I am her Servant. Let not my eyes betray me. I wont express on my Lord, to give you The circumstance, with a flowing Love, Or rather with what glad devotion She entertained it, at your very name, For so I guest, to which her covetous sighed Made the first has e, one might have seen her heart Dance in her eyes, and as the wonder strove To make her pale, warm love did fortify Her cheeks, with guilty blushes, she did read And kiss the paper often, mingled questions, Some half propounded, as her Soul had been Too narrow, to receive what you had writ, She quite forgotten. So far As her great birth, and breeding, might direct A Lady to behave her self to him, That was her Prince. She kissed. Yes my Lord. If ever woman loved With faith, Cleona honours you above Mankind, 'twere sin but to suspect so chased, So furnished with all virtue, your Cleona, My Lord if I might not offend with my Opinion, it were safest that you lose No time, your presence would confirm a joy To either, and prevent the Duke, whose strong Solicits, may in time. endanger much The quiet of your thoug ts. Mistake me no , I do not doubt her truth, But she's a woman, and if you worser lay To in erpose your self, his Greatness may In time, without injustice to your Love, Win upon her aff ction, you shall do A great impiety to her now. With so m changed proof, and loyal e of honour. Are you sir in earnest? Does she languish Expecting you, and shall I carry death To comfort her? good Heaven forbid this Sir. I'm lost ith springing of my hope, shall I Obey him to destroy my self? I must, I dare not be my self, no need have they Of other force, that make themselves away. I only entreat my Lady may have knowledge that I uva to he e. What then? No harm? I prithee do, and hasten the discharge Of my sad Embassy, which when I have done, And that it prospers in mine own misfortune, I'll teach my breath to pray. Since I arri ed, 'Tis but a pair of minutes. You will repen This welcome Madam. It is, But let your virtue place a g ard about Your are, it is too weak a sense to trust With a sad tale, that may disperse too soon. The killing Syllables, and some one, or other Find out your heart. None of these, Since last I saw you Madam. Turn them to grief, Again, and here let me kneel, the accuser Of him, that hath deserved more punishment, Then your wronged piety will inflict. Yes. You may, But I accuse my self, and of and injury To you. For his sake, you must punish, Dear Madam, I have finned against his Ghost, In my deceiving you. And if. His Soul hath not forgotten how he loved you, I must expect him to aff ight my dreams. And prove my waking evil, the truth is, My Lord is dead. No Madam. Madam, I hope I shall repair the ruins of your eye, When I declare the cause, that leads me to This strange confession, I have observed The Duke does love you, love you in that way, You can deserve him, and though I have sinned, I am not stubborn in my fault, to suffer you, In the belief of my deceitful story, To wrong your fortune, by neglect of him, Can bring your merit such addition, Of state and title. I'm sorry, I have offended Sir. Sir, your command is done, And she believes? For Heavens sake Sir, whats this you mean to do? There is a fear sits cold upon my heart, And tells me— Alas my Lord, I am too young. Fortune hath lent me a prospective glass, By which I have a look beyond all joys, To a new world of misery, whats my best Let it be so, for I am hopeless now, And it were well, if when those weeds I have, That I might go disguised to my graven. He was a ways noble, but this passion Has outgone History, it makes for me, Hail to my courteous fate, Fosc ri thanks, Like the aged P enix, thy old love expires, And from such Death, springs li e to my worser fires. The Father is not come yet, nor my Lord , yet when they do, I have no way TO lpe my self, nor have I power to go From hence, sure this is the Religious man. Father Valentio? I was rescued, By happy valour of a Gentleman, To whom in gratitude, I pay this service, He bade me here expect a holy man, And is it you? Are you the goodman whom my Lord expect 'Tis so me refreshing in the amid of sorrow, To meet again. But I am miserable still unless Your counsel do relieve me. This noble Gentleman, to whom I owe My preservation, who appointed you To meet him here, having resolved to enter, Into Religion, hath been very urgent, For me to do so too, and overcome With many importunities, I gave Consent, not knowing what was best to do, Some cure or I am lost, you know I cannot Mix with religious men. I did, and he is now upon he point Of his return. 'Tis a heap of handsome building. My conversation hath not age enough To speak of them, more then they promise well, In their aspect, but I have argument Enough in you my Lord, to fortify Opinion, they are kind, and hospitable To strangers. It was my duty? Since you received it in my cause, and could My blood have wrought it sooner, it had been Your balmy Fountain Let No jealousy my Lord, render me so Unhappy, that preferment, or the flatteries Of any great man, hath seduced my will To leave you, by my life, and your own honour, No man hath tempted me, not have I changed A syllable with any. No reward, Though joust, should buy the freedom I was born with Much less base ends, I I but meet again That good man, who in reverence to his habit, The thieves let go before your happy valour Came to my rescue. Yes my Lord. Yes my Lord. My Lord, you uvea e A causeless trouble to your self. My Lord I had much rather Wait on ou to her. How dead? But my Lord, she hath your Letter To check that. How Sir, the Duke? And will you thus reward So great a love to you. alas he was dead before, I'm sure you could not choose but hear as much, It was my wickedness arrived, to mock Your credulous heart, with a devised Letter, I know you are in wonder, what should move me, To this imposture, sure it was no malice, For you never injured me, and that does make My crime the more deformed, all my aim was, Being a stranger here, and wanting means After my Lords death, by this cunning, to Procure some bounty from you, to sustain My life, until by some good fortune, I Might get another Master, for I knew There was no hope to benefit my self, By saying he was dead, good Heaven forgive me And keep my eyes from weeping. Heaven knows, I have no thought of such impiety, If you will not believe, that for your sake I have betrayed my self, yet be so charitable, To think it something of my duty, to The Duke, whose ends, while they are just, and noble, All loyal Subjects, ought to serve, for him. Whom I am bound to honour, and I love him, Else may I never know one dayof comfort, I durst not without gilded of treason, to His chased desires, deceive you any longer, Collect your self deer Madam, in the graven, There dwells no music, in the Dukes embrace You meet a perfect happiness. Is not yet My poor heart broke? hath nature given it So strong a temper, that no wound will kill me? What charm was in my gratitude to make me Undo so many comforts with one breath, Or was it for some sin I had to satisfy? I have not only widowed Cleona, But made my self a misery beneath, And Orphant, I never came to have a friend, I would destroyed my hope, that little hope, I had to be so happy. That you are dead, and as she now scorned life Death lends her cheeks his paleness, and her eyes Tell down their drops of silver to the earth, Wishing her tears might rain upon your graven To make the gentle earth produce some flower, Should bear your names and memories. Sir I should be blessed, If I did see you sought the means to live, And to live happily, Oh noble Sir, Let me untread my steps, unsay my words, And tell your love, you live. Into Religion? Alas, what shall I do? And yet I'm weary of the world, but how Can I do this? I am not yet discovered, Sir, I shall still attend you. Sir the same. There is no way Left for my hope, to do you any service, Near my preserving, but by adding one New favour, to a suit, which I would name, 'Tis and humble suit, You license my departure. I have a Letter Sir. You're too noble. I fly with this Good news. Too great to be forgiven. I said that neither death, nor any black Misfortune had befallen him, since I gave The Letter to you. I did trust him Sir, As being the sasest treasurer, with that, Would make me welcome in Savoy, and I know he will be faithful, when we meet, For his sake, let me beg you would discharge, A worthless Servant, that inquest of him— Worthy Sir— Fear nothing, the news I bring, will make you mere ry. No my Lord, I am discovered, You see Le nora now, a Milan Lady, If I may hope your pardon— I studied To be your grateful servant, as your self Unto the fair Cleona we are all happy.