English drama; Kings and rulers -- Succession -- Drama; Love -- Drama; Sicily (Italy) -- Drama; Tragicomedy
_Di_. But good my Lord recal your self,
And think what's best to be done.
_Phi_. I thank you. I will do it;
Please you to leave me, I'le consider of it:
Tomorrow I will find your lodging forth,
And give you answer
The readiest way.
_Di_. All the gods direct you.
_Thra_. He was extream impatient.
_Cle_. It was his vertue and his noble mind.
[_Exeunt_ Di. Cle. _and_ Thra.
_Phi_. I had forgot to ask him where he took them,
I'le follow him. O that I had a sea
Within my breast, to quench the fire I feel;
More circumstances will but fan this fire;
It more afflicts me now, to know by whom
This deed is done, than simply that 'tis done:
And he that tells me this is honourable,
As far from lies, as she is far from truth.
O that like beasts, we could not grieve our selves,
With that we see not; Bulls and Rams will fight,
To keep their Females standing in their sight;
But take 'em from them, and you take at once
Their spleens away; and they will fall again
Unto their Pastures, growing fresh and fat,
And taste the waters of the springs as sweet,
As 'twas before, finding no start in sleep.
But miserable man; See, see you gods,
[_Enter_ Bellario.
He walks still; and the face you let him wear
When he was innocent, is still the same,
Not blasted; is this justice? Do you mean
To intrap mortality, that you allow
Treason so smooth a brow? I cannot now
Think he is guilty.
_Bell_. Health to you my Lord;
The Princess doth commend her love, her life,
And this unto you.
_Phi_. Oh _Bellario_,
Now I perceive she loves me, she does shew it
In loving thee my boy, she has made thee brave.
_Bell_. My Lord she has attired me past my wish,
Past my desert, more fit for her attendant,
Though far unfit for me, who do attend.
_Phi_. Thou art grown courtly boy. O let all women
That love black deeds, learn to dissemble here,
Here, by this paper she does write to me,
As if her heart were Mines of Adamant
To all the world besides, but unto me,
A maiden snow that melted with my looks.
Tell me my boy how doth the Princess use thee?
For I shall guess her love to me by that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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