Fior. To meet

Sweetness of language in discourse as sweet?

Fern. Madam, 't were dulness, past the ignorance Of common blockheads, not to understand Whereto this favour tends; and 't is a fortune So much above my fate, that I could wish No greater happiness on earth; but know, Long since, I vow'd to live a single life. Fior. What was 't you said?

Fern. I said, I made a vow—

Enter BIANCA and D'AVOLOS.

Blessed deliverance!

Fior. Prevented! mischief on this interruption!

ACT II. SCENE I.

[Aside

FERNANDO and BIANCA.

Fern. Madam.

Bian. To me, my lord!

Fern. Please but to hear

The story of a castaway in love;
And, oh! let not the passage of a jest

Make slight a sadder subject, who hath placed
All happiness in your diviner eyes.

Bian. My lord, the time

Fern. The time! yet hear me speak,
For I must speak, or burst: I have a soul
So anchor'd down with cares in seas of wo,
That passion, and the vows I owe to you,
Have changed me to a lean anatomy.
Sweet princess of my life-

Bian. Forbear, or I shall

Fern. Yet, as you honour virtue, do not freeze

My hopes to more discomfort, than, as yet,

My fears suggest; no beauty so adorns
The composition of a well-built mind,
As pity: hear me out.

Bian. No more! I spare

To tell you what you are, and must confess,
Do almost hate my judgment, that it once

Thought goodness dwelt in you. Remember, now,
It is the third time since your treacherous tongue
Hath pleaded treason to my ear and fame;
Yet, for the friendship 'twixt my lord and you,
I have not voiced your follies: if you dare
To speak a fourth time, you shall rue your lust;
"T is all no better:-learn, and love yourself. [Exit.
Fern. Gone! oh, my sorrows! how am I undone !
Not speak again? no, no, in her chaste breast
Virtue and resolution have discharged

All female weakness; I have sued and sued,
Knelt, wept, and begg'd; but tears, and vows, and
words

Move her no more than summer-winds a rock.

I must resolve to check this rage of blood,

And will; she is all icy to my fires,

Yet even that ice inflames in me desires.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

The Palace.-The Dutchess's Apartment.

Enter COLONA with lights, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, FERNANDO, and D'AVOLOS; COLONA places the lights on a table, and sets down a chessboard.

Bian. 'T is yet but early night, too soon to sleep; Sister, shall's have a mate at chess?

Fior. A mate!

No, madam, you are grown too hard for me;
My lord Fernando is a fitter match.

Bian. He's a well-practis'd gamester-well, care

not

How cunning soe'er he be.-To pass an hour
I'll try your skill, my lord: reach here the chess-

board.

Fern. I shall bewray too much of my ignorance In striving with your highness; 't is a game

I lose at still, by oversight.

Bian. Well, well,

I fear you not.

[FERNANDO and the Dutchess play.

Fior. Madam, I must entreat excuse; I feel

The temper of my body not in case

To judge the strife.

Bian. Lights for our sister, sirs!

Good rest t' ye; I'll but end my game, and follow. Fior. [Aside to D'Av.] Let 'em have time enough; and, as thou canst,

Be near to hear their courtship, D'Avolos.

D'Av. Madam, I shall observe them with all cunning secrecy.

Bian. Colona, attend our sister to her chamber. Col. I shall, madam.

[Exit FIOR. followed by CoL. and D'Av. Bian. Play.

Fern. I must not lose the advantage of the

game;

Madam, your queen is lost.

Bian. My clergy help me ;1

1

My queen! and nothing for it but a pawn?
Why then the game's lost too:, but play.

Fern. What, madam?

[FERNANDO often looks about. Bian. You must needs play well, you are so studious,―

Fy upon 't! you study past patience :

What do you dream on? here 's demurring
Would weary out a statue !-Good now, play.
Fern. Forgive me; let my knees for ever stick
[Kneels.

Nail'd to the ground, as earthy as my fears,
Ere I arise, to part away so curs'd

1 My clergy help me,] i. e. my bishops,-but those who understand the game do not need these modicums of information, and upon all others they are thrown away.-GIFFORD.

In my unbounded anguish, as the rage
Of flames, beyond all utterance of words,
Devour me, lighten'd by your sacred eyes.
Bian. What means the man?

Fern. To lay before your feet

In lowest vassalage, the bleeding heart
That sighs the tender of a suit disdain'd.
Great lady, pity me, my youth, my wounds;
And do not think that I have cull'd this time
From motion's swiftest measure, to unclasp
The book of lust: if purity of love

Have residence in virtue's breast, lo here,
Bent lower in my heart than on my knee,
I beg compassion to a love, as chaste
As softness of desire can intimate.

Re-enter D'AVOLOS behind.

D'Av. At it already! admirable haste.
Biun. Am I again betray'd? bad man.
Fern. Keep in,

Bright angel, that severer breath to cool
That heat of cruelty, which sways the temple
Of your too stony breast: you cannot urge
One reason to rebuke my trembling plea,
Which I have not, with many nights' expense,
Examined; but oh, madam, still I find
No physic strong to cure a tortured mind,
But freedom from the torture it sustains.
D'Av. Still on your knees?

Here's ceremony with a vengeance!

Bian. Rise up, we charge you, rise :—[he rises.]—
look on our face.

What see you there that may persuade a hope
Of lawless love? or couldst thou dare to speak
Again, when we forbade? no, wretched thing,
Take this for answer: if thou henceforth ope
Thy leprous mouth to tempt our ear again,
We shall not only certify our lord
Of thy disease in friendship, but revenge
VOL. II.-21

Thy boldness with the forfeit of thy life.
Think on 't.

D'Av. Now, now, now the game 's a-foot!

Fern. Stay, go not hence in choler, blessed woman!

You have school'd me; lend me hearing; though the float

Of infinite desires swell to a tide

Too high so soon to ebb, yet by this hand,

[Kisses her hand.

This glorious, gracious hand of yours

D'Av. Ay, marry, the match is made: and hands

clapp'd on it!

Fern. I swear,

Henceforth I never will as much in word,

In letter, or in syllable, presume

To make a repetition of my griefs.

Good night t'ye! if, when I am dead, you rip

This coffin of my heart, there shall you read
With constant eyes, what now my tongue defines,
Bianca's name carv'd out in bloody lines.

For ever, lady, now good night!

Bian. Good night!

Rest in your goodness: lights there.

Enter Attendants with lights.

Sir, good night.

[Exeunt sundry ways.

SCENE III.

BIANCA and FERNANDO.

Bian. With shame and passion now I must confess,

Since first mine eyes beheld you, in my heart

You have been only king; if there can be

A violence in love, then I have felt

That tyranny: be record to my soul,
The justice which I for this folly fear!