_Alph._ The patient, who has passed a sleepless night, Is far less pleased with his physician's sight. Welcome, thou pleasing, but thou short reprieve, To ease my death, but not to make me live. Welcome, but welcome as a winter's sun, That rises late, and is too quickly gone. _Vict._ You are the star of day, the public light; } And I am but your sister of the night; } Eclipsed, when you are absent from my sight. } _Alph._ Death will for ever take me from your eyes; But grieve not you, for, when I set, you rise: Don Garcia has deserved to be your choice, } And 'tis a brother's duty to rejoice. } } _Vict._ And yet, methought, you gave him not your voice. } _Alph._ You saw a sudden sickness left me weak; I had no joy to give, nor tongue to speak: And therefore I withdrew, to seek relief In books, the fruitless remedies of grief. _Vict._ But tell me what philosopher you found, To cure your pain? _Alph._ The fittest for my wound, Who best the gentle passions knows to move; Ovid, the soft philosopher of love. His Love Epistles for my friends I chose; For there I found the kindred of my woes. _Vict._ His nymphs the vows of perjured men deplore; One in the woods, and one upon the shore: All are at length forsaken or betrayed; And the false hero leaves the faithful maid. _Alph._ Not all; for, Linus kept his constancy; And one, perhaps, who more resembled me. _Vict._ That letter would I view; in hope to find Some features of the fair that rules your mind. _Alph._ Read, for the guilty page is doubled down; The love too soon will make the lover known. [_Giving her the Book._ Read, if you dare; and, when the crime you see, Accuse my cruel fate, but pity me. Vict. [_Aside._] 'Tis what I feared, the unhappy Canace!-- Read you; for, to a brother 'twas designed, [_To him._ And sent him by a sister much too kind. [ALPHONSO takes the Book, and reads. _Why did thy flames beyond a brother's move? Why loved I thee with more than sister's love?_ [He looks upon her, and she holds down her head. He reads again. _My cheeks no longer did their colour boast; My food grew loathsome, and my strength I lost; Still, ere I spoke, a sigh would stop my tongue; Short were my slumbers, and my nights were long. I knew not from my love those griefs did grow, Yet was, alas! the thing I did not know._ [She looks on him, and he holds down his Head. _Forced at the last, my shameful pain I tell._ _Vict._ No more; we know our mutual love too well. [_Both look up, and meet each other's Eyes._