[350] [Not in the old copy.] THE LOST LADY. ACT I. _Enter_ AGENOR, PHYSICIAN. AGEN. Sir, I hope Lord Lysicles is not yet Retir'd? PHY. No, sir, he commanded immediate Notice should be given of your coming. AGEN. I fear my stay at the castle hath made My duty seem unmannerly; but till This minute I had not my despatches from the governor. PHY. Let it not trouble you: he never shuts his eyes Till all this other world opens theirs; nor Does he sleep then, but with distracted thoughts Labours his fancy, to present him objects That may advance his grief. AGEN. What may the monstrous cause be? PHY. It was monstrous indeed. He lost his mistress, Barbarously murder'd by her perfidious uncle: Her urn is in Cirrha, which my lord nightly Visits, and presents it all his contracted Sighs of the fled day; but at his parting Re-assumeth more by thinking she is not: To whose dear memory his tears and griefs Are offered. He's now alone, and the Religious awe which makes our priests retire, Before they do adore th' incensed powers, Is seen in him, who never dares approach Her honoured tomb, till a just contemplation of His loss hath made his sorrow eloquent. See! he comes. If, when he parts, your haste Will license you, I will relate the story Of his unequall'd sufferings. _Enter_ LYSICLES. LYS. Do you depart to-night? AGEN. This hour, my lord. LYS. I will not wrong you to entreat your care In suddenly delivering these small packets; But lest you should believe they are merely Ceremonious, and so bear any date, I now Inform you, I'm concern'd in nothing nearer. My griefs excepted. AGEN. I wish your lordship's happiness. LYS. First, wish me a captivity; for as I am i' th' instant, if Heaven should pour His blessings on me, their quality would alter. Sir, good night. [_Exit._ PHY. Sir, you are sad. AGEN. He has no heart to joy that can be otherwise, That sees this glorious youth groan under his Harsh fate. PHY. What a sad accent had each word he uttered? AGEN. I could not mark them much; but his whole frame Is of such making as if Despair had been The architect. We may wish, [but] not hope, A long life in him. PHY. Sir, will you now take horse? AGEN. I should, had you Not promised the original of this Misfortune: and, trust me, it is a bold Curiosity, that makes me search into it; for if The silent presentation hath struck amazement In me, how shall I guard my heart, when sad Disasters violence my passions?