Fio. Nay, no more of this.

You shall o'ercome; no more, I pray you, sir.
And what delights-pray you, be liberal.
In your relation-hath the country life
Afforded you?

Giov. All pleasures, gracious madam,

This worthy must be cherished.
Giov. 'Twas a bounty
You never can repent.

Fio. I glory in it.

And when he did return, but still with conquest,

His armour off, not young Antinous

virtues.

I had a grave instructor, and my hours,
Designed to serious studies, yielded me
Pleasure with profit, in the knowledge of
What before I was ignorant in; the signior
Carolo de Charomonte being skilful

To guide me through the labyrinth of wild passions,

That laboured to imprison my free soul,

A slave to vicious sloth.

Fio. You speak him well.

Giov. But short of his deserts. Then, for the time

Of recreation, I was allowed

(Against the form followed by jealous parents
In Italy) full liberty to partake

His daughter's sweet society. She's a virgin,
Happy in all endowments which a poet
Could fancy in his mistress; being herself
A school of goodness, where chaste maids may
learn,

Without the aids of foreign principles,
By the example of her life and pureness,
To be, as she is, excellent. I but give you
A brief epitome of her virtues, which,
Dilated on at large, and to their merit,
Would make an ample story.

Fio. Your whole age,

So spent with such a father, and a daughter,
Could not be tedious to you.

Giov. True, great princess :

And now, since you have pleased to grant the hearing

Of my time's expence in the country, give me leave

To entreat the favour, to be made acquainted
What service, or what objects in the court
Have, in your excellence's acceptance, proved
Most gracious to you?

Fio. I'll meet your demand,

And make a plain discovery. The duke's care
For my estate and person, holds the first
And choicest place; then, the respect the cour
tiers

Pay gladly to me, not to be contemned.

But that which raised in me the most delight,
For I'm a friend to valour, was to hear
The noble actions truly reported

Of the brave count Sanazarro. I profess,
When it hath been, and fervently, delivered,
How boldly in the horror of a fight,
Covered with fire and smoke, and, as if nature
Had lent him wings, like lightning he hath fallen
Upon the Turkish gallies, I have heard it
With a kind of pleasure, which hath whispered

to me

Render a man's society dear to ladies,
Like pages waiting on him; and it does
Work strangely on me.

Giov. To divert your thoughts,

Though they are fixed upon a noble subject, I am a suitor to you.

Fio. You will ask,

I do presume, what I may grant, and then It must not be denied.

Gio. It is a favour,

For which, I hope, your excellence will thank me,
Fio. Nay, without circumstance.
Giov. That you would please

To take occasion to move the duke,
That you, with his allowance, may command
This matchless virgin, Lydia, of whom

I cannot speak too much, to wait upon you.
She's such a one, upon the forfeit of
Your good opinion of me, that will not
Be a blemish to your train.

Fio. 'Tis rank, he loves her:

But I will fit him with a suit. [Aside.] I pause

A suitor to the duke, not to expose,
After so many trials of his faith,
The noble Sanazarro to all dangers,
As if he were a wall, to stand the fury
Of a perpetual battery: But now,
To grant him, after his long labours, rest
And liberty to live in court; his arms,
And his victorious sword and shield hung up
For monuments.

Giov. Hum! I'll embrace, fair princess,
Enter COZIMO.

The soonest opportunity. The duke!

Coz. Nay, blush not; we smile on your pri

Nor wealth nor greatness makes him proud.
Bern. There are

Too few of them; for most of our new courtiers,
Whose fathers were familiar with the prices
Of oil and corn, with when and where to vent
them,

And left their heirs rich from their knowledge that way,

Like gourds shot up in a night, disdain to speak But to cloth of tissue.

Enter CAROLO CHAROMONTE in a night gown, PETRUCHIO following.

Car. Stand, you prating knaves, When such a guest is under my roof! See all The rooms perfumed. This is the man that car

ries

San. I cannot apprehend, yet I have argued All ways I can imagine, for what reasons The great duke does employ me hither; and, What does increase the miracle, I must render A strict and true account, at my return, Of Lydia, this lord's daughter, and describe In what she's excellent, and where defective. 'Tis a hard task; he that will undergo To make a judgment of a woman's beauty, And see through all her plasterings and paintings,

Had need of Lynceus' eyes, and, with more ease, May look, like him, through nine mud-walls, than

make

A true discovery of her. But the intents And secrets of my prince's heart must be Served, and not searched into.

What you are pleased to wish him.

Lyd. Would 'twere so !

And then there is no blessing that can make
A hopeful, and a noble prince complete,

But should fall on him. O! he was our north

star,

The light and pleasure of our eyes.

San. Where am I?

I feel myself another thing: Can charms
Be writ on such pure rubies? Her lips melt
As soon as touched! not those smooth gales that
glide

O'er happy Arabia, or rich Sabæa,
Creating, in their passage, gums and spices,
Can serve for a weak simile to express

The sweetness of her breath. Such a brave stature

Homer bestowed on Pallas, every limb
Proportioned to it.

Car. This is strange, my lord!

San. I crave your pardon, and yours, matchless maid:

For such I must report you.

Pet. There's no notice Taken all this while of me.

San. And I must add,

[Aside.

If your discourse and reason parallel
The rareness of your more than human form,
You are a wonder.

Car. Pray you, my lord, make trial:
She can speak, I can assure you; and, that my

presence

May not take from her freedom, I will leave you:

For know, my lord, my confidence dares trust her
Where, and with whom, she pleases. If he be
Taken the right way with her, I cannot fancy
A better match; and for false play, I know
The tricks, and can discern them. Petronella!
Pet. Yes, my good lord.

Car. I have employment for you.

[Exeunt CAROLO and PETRONELLA. Lyd. What is your will, sir!

San. Madam, you are so large a theme to

treat of,

And every grace about you offers to me
Such copiousness of language, that I stand
Doubtful which first to touch at. If I err,
As in my choice I may, let me entreat you,
Before I do offend, to sign my pardon;
Let this, the emblem of your innocence,
Give me assurance.

Lyd. 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 yourself a courtier in my praise,
As I'm a woman (and you men affirm
Our sex loves to be flattered) I'll endure it.
[CAROLO above.

Now, when you please, begin.

San. Such Læda's breasts were,

[Turns from her. Down pillows styled by Jove: And their pure whiteness

Shames the swan's down, or snow. No heat of lust
Swells up her azure veins. And yet I feel
That this chaste ice, but touched, fans fire in me.
Lyd. You need not, noble sir, be thus trans-
ported,

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 an humble theme.

San. If the great duke

Made this his end to try my constant temper,
Though I am vanquished, 'tis his fault, not mine;
For I am flesh and blood, and have affections
Like other men. Who can behold the temples,
Or holy altars, but the objects work
Devotion in him? And I may as well
Walk over burning iron with bare feet,
And be unscorched, as look upon this beauty
Without desire, and that desire pursued, too,
Till it be quenched with the enjoying those
Delights, which to atchieve, danger is nothing,
And loyalty but a word.

[Aside.

Lyd. I ne'er was proud; Nor can I find I'm guilty of a thought Deserving this neglect and strangeness from you. Nor am I amorous

San. Suppose his greatness

Loves her himself, why makes he choice of me
To be his agent? It is tyranny

To call one, pinched with hunger, to a feast,
And at that instant cruelly deny him
To taste of what he sees. Allegiance,
Tempted too far, is like the trial of

A good sword on an anvil: as that often

Flies in pieces without service to the owner;

So trust, enforced too far, proves treachery,
And is too late repented.

Lyd. Pray you, sir,

Or license me to leave you, or deliver

The reasons which invite you to command

My tedious waiting on you.

Car. As I live,

With such as are more glorious. Though I never
Did injury, yet I am sensible
When I'm contemned, and scorned.

San. Will you please to hear me?

Lyd. O the difference of natures! 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.

San. Pray you, do not think me Unworthy of your ear: It was your beauty That turned me statue.—I can speak, fair lady. Lyd. And I can hear. The harshness of your courtship

Cannot corrupt my courtesy.

San. Will you hear me,

If I speak of love?

Lyd. Provided you be modest;

I were uncivil, else.

Car. They are come to parley:

I must observe this nearer.
San. You're a rare one,

[CAROLO descends.

And such (but that my haste commands me hence)

I could converse with ever. Will you grace me With leave to visit you again?

Lyd. So you,

At your return to court, do me the favour To make a tender of my humble service To the prince Giovanni.

San. Ever touching

Upon that string? And will you give me hope Of future happiness?

Lyd. That, as I shall find you.

The fort, that's yielded at the first assault,
Is hardly worth the taking.

Enter CAROLO.

Car. O! they are at it.

San. She is a magazine of all perfection,

And 'tis death to part from her; yet I must

[Aside.

A parting kiss, fair maid.

I know not what to think on't. Is't his pride,

Or his simplicity?

San. Whither have my thoughts Carried me from myself? In this my dulness, I've lost an opportunity. [He turns to her.

Lyd. 'Tis true,

[She falls off.

I was not bred in court, nor live a star there;
Nor shine in rich embroideries and pearl,

As they, that are the mistresses of great fortunes,

Are every day adorned with.

San. Will you vouchsafe

Your

ear, sweet lady?

Lyd. Yet I may be bold,

For my integrity and fame, to rank

VOL. II.

Lyd. That custom grants you.

[Aside.

Car. A homely breakfast does attend your lordship,

Such as the place affords.

San. No; I have feasted

Already here. My thanks, and so I leave you :

I will see you again. Till this unhappy hour

I ne'er was lost; and what to do, or say,

I have not yet determined.

Car. Gone so abruptly?

'Tis very strange!

Lyd. Under your favour, sir,

[Erit SANAZARRO.

His coming hither was to little purpose
For any thing I heard from him.

Car. Take heed, Lydia!

I do advise you with a father's love,

And tenderness of your honour; as I would not Have you coarse and harsh in giving entertain

ment,

N

So, by no means be credulous. For great men,
Till they have gained their ends, are giants in
Their promises; but, those obtained, weak pigmies
In their performance. And it is a maxim
Allowed among them, so they may deceive,
They may swear any thing; for the queen of love,
As they hold constantly, does never punish,
But smile at lovers' perjuries.-Yet be wise, too;

SCENE İ.

Enter SANAZARRO and Servant.

And, when you are sued to in a noble way, Be neither nice nor scrupulous.

Lyd. All you speak, sir,

I hear as oracles; nor will digress
From your directions.

Car. So shall you keep
Your fame untainted.

Lyd. As I would my life, sir.

San. Leave the horses with my grooms; but be you careful

With your best diligence and speed, to find out
The prince, and humbly in my name entreat him
I may exchange some private conference with him,
Before the great duke know of my arrival.
Serv. I haste, my lord.

San. Here I'll attend his coming;

[Exeunt.

That forced me to invite you to this trouble,
You will excuse my manners.
Giov. Sir, there needs not
This circumstance between us.

Into a desperate straight, and cannot steer
A middle course; and, of the two extremes
Which I must make election of, I know not
Which is more full of horror. Never servant
Stood more engaged to a magnificent master,
Than I to Cozimo. And all those honours
And glories, by his grace conferred upon me,
Or by my prosperous services deserved,
If now I should deceive his trust, and make
A shipwreck of my loyalty, are ruined.
And, on the other side, if I discover
Lydia's divine perfections, all my hopes
In her are sunk, never to be buoyed up:
For 'tis impossible, but as soon as seen,
She must with adoration be sued to.
A hermit at his beads, but looking on her,
Or the cold cynic, whom Corinthian Lais,
Not moved with her lust's blandishments, called
a stone,

At this object would take fire. Nor is the duke
Such an Hippolitus, but that this Phædra,
But seen, must force him to forsake the groves
And Dian's huntmanship, proud to serve under
Venus' soft ensigns. No, there is no way
For me to hope fruition of my ends,
But to conceal her beauties-and how that
May be effected, is as hard a task

As with a veil to cover the sun's beams,

Or comfortable light. Three years the prince
Lived in her company, and Contarino,
The secretary, hath possessed the duke
What a rare piece she is.-But he's my creature,
And may with ease be frighted to deny
What he hath said. And, if my long experience,
With some strong reasons I have thought upon,

You are ever

San. You shall have further cause To assure you of my faith and zeal to serve you. And, when I have committed to your trust (Presuming still on your retentive silence) A secret of no less importance than My honour, nay, my head, it will confirm What value you hold with me.

Giov. Pray you believe, sir,

What you deliver to me, shall be locked up
In a strong cabinet, of which you yourself
Shall keep the key. For here I pawn my honour,
(Which is the best security I can give yet)
It shall not be discovered.