Even now you're mine. Ocrastes! Ha! Her last word was his name. I'll turn this crook of fortune to account, And make a god of accident. _The._ [_Reviving_] O! O! Misfortune makes my heart her sanctuary. So many woes take shelter there. _Phil._ One woe You have escaped. Ocrastes' wicked love. O villainous! I dare not think of it! That he would poison one so dear to you---- _The._ Man, man, care for your soul! There is no stain So black as when the gall of calumny Breaks on the snow of virtue! You must rate Your precious life at naught. Ocrastes, sir, Will have your slanderous heart for this! _Phil._ He may, If 'tis your wish. You heard her cry his name As though she saw her murderer. _The._ She cried-- Ah, yes--I heard-- What did she mean? _Phil._ The truth. _The._ Make me not mad!--He's never entered here. _Phil._ Why should he when a little gold will buy A hand for any deed? _The._ The gold--the gold He gave to Brentio! Dear Juno, help! My mind strays from me. _Phil._ Hast not found him changed? Full of quick passions--contradictions--words Of broken point? Seen shadows on his face As though his mind were brooding darker matter Than could be kept within 't? Bethink thee well, For memory's eye reflective oft repeals The confirmation of the grosser sight, And what so pleased the entertain�d sense Shows in her studied glass a fearful front. _The._ O, stop thy tongue of death! My promise to him-- So strangely asked--so strangely given! O!---- _Phil._ Thy mother's word---- _The._ O, let me die, die, die! _Phil._ My girl, all things that be may be endured. Death does not come for this or that affliction, But when 'tis time to knock. Up, sweet Theano! By fortune's rudder, wheel and horn of bounty, You shall rise fair above this foul mischance! [_Re-enter Methone_] _Meth._ My lady, lord Ocrastes begs to see you. _The._ No, no! Not now. _Phil._ Ay, see him now, Theano. Show him the burden of this bed, nor let The damn�d simulation of his eye Deceive you. Bravely tell him to his face None better knows the gate she came by death. _The._ You lie!... And yet I can not see him now. Though he is innocent, my wicked promise Burns like accusing fire by this dear form. _Meth._ Mistress, he comes! _Phil._ I'll leave you with him. Courage! [_Phillistus retreats to curtains, left. Enter Ocrastes_] _The._ You dare come here? _Oc._ I dare?