_Plac._ This hand, if given, would far more powerful be Than all the monarchs of the world to me: But 'tis a bait which would my heart betray; And, when I'm fast, will soon be snatched away. _Val._ O say not so; for I shall ever be Obliged to him, who once obliges me. _Plac._ Madam, I'll wink, and favour the deceit; But know, fair cozener, that I know the cheat: Though to these eyes I nothing can refuse, I'll not the merit of my ruin lose: It is enough I see the hook, and bite; But first I'll pay my death with my delight. [_Kisses her hand, and exit._ _Val._ What can I hope from this sad interview? And yet my brave design I will pursue. By many signs I have my rival found; But fortune him, as deep as me, does wound. For, if he loves the empress, his sad fate More moves my pity, than his scorn my hate. _To her_ PLACIDIUS, _with_ PORPHYRIUS. _Plac._ I am, perhaps, the first, Who, forced by fate, and in his own despite, Brought a loved rival to his mistress' sight. _Val._ But, in revenge, let this your comfort be, That you have brought a man who loves not me. However, lay your causeless envy by; He is a rival, who must quickly die. _Por._ And yet I could, with less concernment, bear That death of which you speak, than see you here. So much of guilt in my refusal lies, That, debtor-like, I dare not meet your eyes. _Val._ I do not blame you, if you love elsewhere: And would to heaven I could your sufferings bear! Or once again could some new way invent, To take upon myself your punishment: I sent for you, to let you know, that still, Though now I want the power, I have the will. _Plac._ Can all this ocean of your kindness be Poured upon him, and not one drop on me? _Val._ 'Tis poured; but falls from this ungrateful man, Like drops of water from a rising swan. Upon his breast no sign of wet remains; He bears his love more proudly than his chains. _Por._ This thankless man his death will soon remove, And quickly end so undeserved a love. _Val._ Unthankful as you are, I know not why, But still I love too well, to see you die. Placidius, can you love, and see my grief, And for my sake not offer some relief? _Plac._ Not all the gods his ruin shall prevent; Your kindness does but urge his punishment. Besides, what can I for his safety do? He has declared himself your father's foe. _Val._ Give out he has escaped, and set him free; And, if you please, lay all the fault on me. _Por._ O, do not on those terms my freedom name! Freed by your danger, I should die with shame. _Plac._ I must not farther by your prayers be won: All I could do, I have already done. [_To her._