PHIL. I heard your uncle say the governor did receive it with all appearances of joy, in hope this match will free him from this deep melancholy: and 'tis determined the next feast joins your hands. HER. The grave must be my bed then. With what harsh fate doth heaven afflict me, That all those blessings which make others happy Must be my ruin! But if this lady's knowledge Shall inform me that I shall ne'er enjoy Eugenio, Darkness shall seize me, ere [the] tapers light My blushes to the forsworn Hymen's rites. IRE. Why should you labour your disquiet, cousin? Anticipating thus your knowledge, you will make Your future sufferings present; and so call Lasting griefs upon you, which your hopes might Dissipate, till heaven had made your mind Strong enough to encounter them. HER. Dear Irene, Our stars, whose influence doth govern us, Are not malignant to us, but whilst we Remain in this false earth. He that hath courage To divest himself of that, removes with it Their powers to hurt him; and injur'd Love, Who sees that fortune would usurp his power, I know will not be wanting. See, the lady _Enter_ ACANTHE _the Moor_. Comes! Madam, the excuse that justifies sick men That send for their physician, must beg my pardon, That did not visit you to have this honour. Here you see a virgin that hath long stood The mark of fortune, and now's so full of misery That, though the gods resented what I suffer, Yet I fear that they have plung'd me to extremes, Exceed their own assistance. MOOR. Fear not their power. HER. I do not; but their will to help me I must doubt; For those that know no reason of their hate Must fear it is perpetual. And let the ensigns of their wrath fall on me, If e'er by any willing act I have provok'd Their justice. To you now, in whom 'tis said, As in their oracle they speak, I come to know What mighty growth of dangers are decreed me. MOOR. First, dearest lady, do not think my power Great as my will to serve you; 'tis so weak That, if you should rely on't, I shall seem Cold in your service, when it does not answer What is expected from it. All I know Is but conjectured; for our stars incline, Not force us in our actions. Let me observe your face.