_D. of Eboli._ In thy fond policy, blind fool, go on, And make what haste thou canst to be undone, Whilst I have nobler business of my own. Was I bred up in greatness; have I been Nurtured with glorious hopes to be a queen; Made love my study, and with practised charms Prepared myself to meet a monarch's arms; At last to be condemned to the embrace Of one whom nature made to her disgrace, An old, imperfect, feeble dotard, who Can only tell (alas!) what he would do? On him to throw away my youth and bloom, As jewels that are lost to enrich a tomb? No, though all hopes are in a husband dead, Another path to happiness I'll tread; Elsewhere find joys which I'm in him denied: Yet, while he can, let the slave serve my pride. Still I'll in pleasure live, in glory shine; The gallant, youthful Austria shall be mine: To him with all my force of charms I'll move: Let others toil for greatness, whilst I love. [_Exit._ [Illustration] [Illustration] FOOTNOTES: [11] _i.e._ Faults. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I.--_An Orange Grove, near the Palace._ _Enter_ Don JOHN of Austria. Don John. Why should dull law rule nature, who first made That law by which herself is now betrayed? Ere man's corruptions made him wretched, he Was born most noble that was born most free: Each of himself was lord, and, unconfined, Obeyed the dictates of his god-like mind. Law was an innovation brought in since, When fools began to love obedience, And called their slavery safety and defence. My glorious father got me in his heat, When all he did was eminently great: When warlike Belgia felt his conquering power, And the proud Germans owned him emperor, Why should it be a stain then on my blood, Because I came not in the common road, But born obscure, and so more like a god? No; though his diadem another wear, At least to all his pleasures I'll be heir. Here I should meet my Eboli, my fair. _Enter_ Duchess of EBOLI. She comes; as the bright Cyprian goddess moves, When loose, and in her chariot drawn by doves, She rides to meet the warlike god she loves. _D. of Eboli._ Alas! my lord, you know not with what fear And hazard I am come to meet you here. _Don John._ Oh, banish it: lovers like us should fly, And, mounted by their wishes, soar on high, Where softest ecstasies and transports are, While fear alone disturbs the lower air. _D. of Eboli._ But who is safe when eyes are everywhere? Or, if we could with happiest secrecy Enjoy these sweets, oh, whither shall we fly To escape that sight whence we can nothing hide?