CRI. Soon as you see this false Antonio Come near your doors, with speeches made of purpose, Full of humility and compassion; With long narrations, how he 'scap'd from shipwreck, And other feign'd inventions of his dangers, Bid him begone; and if he press to enter, Fear not the reverence of your father's looks; Cudgel him thence. LEL. But were't not better, Cricca, Keep him fast lock'd, till his own shape return; And so by open course of law correct him. CRI. No. For my master would conceive that counsel Sprung from my brains, and so should I repent it. Advise no more, but home, and charge your people That, if Antonio come, they drive him thence With threat'ning words--and blows, if need be. LEL. 'Tis done. I kiss your hands, Eugenio. EUG. Your servant, sir. [_Exit_ LELIO. SCENE VIII. EUGENIO, CRICCA, FLAVIA. EUG. Cricca, commend my service to my mistress. CRI. Commend it to her yourself. Mark'd you not, while We talk'd, how through the window she attended, And fed her eyes on you? there she is. EUG. 'Tis true: And, as from nights of storms the glorious sun Breaks from the east, and chaseth thence the clouds That chok'd the air with horror, so her beauty Dispels sad darkness from my troubled thoughts, And clears my heart. FLA. Life of my soul, well met. EUG. How is't, my dearest Flavia? FLA. Eugenio, As best becomes a woman most unfortunate-- That, having lov'd so long, and been persuaded Her chaste affection was by yours requited, Have by delays been famish'd. Had I conceal'd Those flames your virtue kindled, then y' had sued, Entreated, sworn, and vow'd, and, long ere this, Wrought all means possible to effect our marriage. But now---- EUG. Sweet soul, despair not; weep not thus, Unless you wish my heart should lifeblood drop, Fast as your eyes do tears. What is't you fear? FLA. First, that you love me not. EUG. Not love my Flavia! Wrong not your judgment: rip up this amorous breast, And in that temple see a heart that burns I' th' vestal sacrifice of chastest love Before your beauty's deity. FLA. If so, Whence grows this coldness in soliciting My brother to the match? EUG. Consider, sweetest, I have a father, rival in my love; And though no duty, reverence, nor respect, Have power to change my thoughts; yet 'tis not comely With open violence to withstand his will; But by fair courses try to divert his mind[304] From disproportioned affections. And if I cannot, then nor fear of anger, Nor life, nor lands, shall cross our purposes. Comfort yourself, sweet Flavia; for your brother Seconds our hopes with his best services.