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Save when vexatious cares lave troubled me,
And my perturbed soul has sought for rest.
Proceed, my Contarino.

Contarino. Pausing there,
T'inhale the balmy fragrance of the breeze,
Cool'd by the fountain's waters.—There, methought,
I heard å tender sigh.

Sforza. A sigh, indeed !-
A whisper of the wind !-And was that all ?

Contarino. I started back, for in that lonely place,
I know not how, I felt afraid, for I
Have heard that spirits-

Sforza. Pshaw !And was that all ?
Contarino. My Lord, if you'll allow me to proceed-
Sforza. Well, Sir, speak on.

Contarino. A voice, then, broke
On my attentive ear.

Sforza. How-what-who-
Who could have dar'd thus to profane my groves
With their unhallow'd converse ?-Whose was the-

Contarino. My Lord, I fear-
Sforza. Speak quickly, Şir, for I
Contarino. It was the voice of-
Sforza. Whom?

Conturino. The Princess Julia,
In conversation with some stranger, and,
As I perceiv'd, a man.

Sforza. A man!

Contarino. Yes, such, my Liege,
In amorous conference; and kisses sweet
Were interchang'd between.

Sforza. Knew'st thou the man?

Contarino. I did, my Liege: 'twas young Gonzaga, Now tarrying in your court.

Sforaz. But art thou sure? I scarce can credit

Contarino. Believe it, Prince ;
I would, indeed, 'twere false !

Sforza. Then curse upon her!
So young, yet so deceitful, I did think
That not a thought could enter in her mind
But I could fathom it. Were he her equal
I could have pardon'd her.

Contariuo." He is hier equal !
Sforza. How do you insult me?
Contarino. No, my

Lord :
He is the son of Foscari.

Sforza. Thank ye, heavens !
I thank ye for this opportunity
Of crusħing his vile race ! A glorious prospect
Just

my

mind, of sated vengeance,
And gladden'd ire. Now, in my artful nets
This youth I will entangle, and then dart
Upon him as the tiger seeks his prey.
Julia, I pardon thee !--Thy love-sick folly
Shall lure this rash adventurer to his doom,
For hate is all to me. My daughter,
Dear as she is, is but an atom small,
When measur'd with revenge. Now Foscari
Have at thy hated branch. But stop my friend ;
How art thou certain this young man is such.
As thou dost call him?

Contarino, Well I knew his face,

1

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For was at his father's of frien lade sa productory of woodet?
A servant who deserted him, my prince, 9:20 tist
Inform’d me all. That having heard at home or
Of

your fair daughter's beauty and sweet face, »8353.33"}
He straight became enamour'd, and procured
Her miniature, with which his heated mind 55
Daily consoled itself, till ardent passion is to say
No longer bearing to remain content
With the mere picture, when at bright Milan' 51",
Was the original, incited him
To leave his father, and set out, unknown,
Upon his pilgrimage to the fair saint,
To whom his heart was pledg'd, and bither came,
That idol to adore. While his old father,
Unable to discover where he fled,
Was left to weep for his lov'd son's return. "

Sforza. Didst thou not gather from their stolen talk,
When they appointed to hold conference
Again ?

Contarino. I did, my lord, Gonzaga said,
“ You will not fail me, dearest, at this hour
Tomorrow even when the myrtle throws'
“ It's sweets around, and gondola soft gliding
“ Adown the stream like to a fairy voice,
• Leaves as it goes a melancholy sound,
“ Gentler by distance—and with dying fall, . 1416
“ Diminishing away-when nought is heard TO

BE “ But the soft voice of music gently moving in de poolt « Over the surface of the trembling wave,

Calling thee to remember love and me.".
“ I will not fail thee," said the princess, " then."

Sforza. Ha! is it so ? then they shall have, by heaven,
A witness little look'd for, Contarino.
Mark that thou meet'st me, then, beside the tow'r,
Embroidered with wild flowers, where unperceiv'd
We
may

steal on them and be auditors
Of their love-converse. Then will I determine;
How I shall lead this youth to his destruction;
Be punctual.

Contarino. I will be there, my Lord. [Exeunt, separately.

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*

SCENE II.A Street in Milan.

Pisani and Vitelli meeting.

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Pisani, Hail to thee, friend! Methinks thy looks to-day Are not so blithe as heretofore what news From Venus' busy.court hath anger'd thee? Thy looks, so full of sweet placidity,

} Have grown as ireful as the Gorgon's sconce, ****** As gloomy as the night.

Vitelli.' By heaven's bright face, **Allis itin 1
And Julia's too, thou hast not augur'd ill; .
For unaccustom'd as I am to brook
The scornful airs of beauty, I did feel
Last night, when at the ball, the flippant princess
Did leave me for her minion Gonzaga,
A something worse than torture. Visi 1144.7

Pisani. (laughing). What, Vitelli ?
Poor jealous soul! art thou at lasti then, struck ?1401 3.

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I thought you boasted yesterday you were
Impregnable to Cupid's shafts, and that
The little urchin ne'er should have the pow'r
To wound thee.--Ha! ha!

Vitelli. Truce to thy sneers
Pisani : what care I for prince or princess ?
But so perceiv'd, so flagrant an affront,
Is ne'er to be forgiv'n—it is pride,
Not Cupid, that has wounded me. For her,
I deem her but a foil to set me off;
A kind of puppet to my will and pleasure :
And think of her no more.

Pisani. I have too
My grounds for slight, which I shall ne'er forget;
'Twas but the other day she left my talk,
And tripp'd away to where Gonzaga stood;
When on my knees I woo'd her haughty glance,
And pour'd my studied diction in her ear;
Such and so great affront I ne'er receiv'd.

Vitelli. But why should we ourselves disquiet thus ?
Let us cast off the galling marks of scorn,
And tear them from our minds, leaving them
To Cupid's warmer votaries.

Enter GONZAGA and VICENTI.

Gonzaga. Good even, Signiors.

Pisani. Ha! good Sirs !
How have you borne the labours of the night?
Are

ye at length recruited ?
Vicenti. What, good sirs ?
Call ye the sprightly dance, the merry quip,
And Cupid's sports, a labour ? you, in truth,
Must have but craven hearts.

Pisani. Excuse us, sirs;
We are not gallants of the rank that you be,
Ladies' monopolists. We are obliged
To come in for the second course, while you,
Lore's standard-bearers, ever carry off
The foremost place of glory—but we will not
Disturb your converse by our presence longer.

[Exeunt Pisani and Vitelli.
Gonzaga. There go two courtiers, true as ever wore
Their ensigns on their brown--two precious fools,
Who love their own dear selves too well to need
The armour that repels the darts of love.

Vicenti. Weak as they are, my lord, they've yet the pow'r
To harm your purposes ; for the fell asp,
Small as it was, could wound the beauteous breast
Lor'd of Mark Anthony.

Gonzaga. I fear them not ;
They are too weak to do me injury.
Vicenti. But they have yet the will--O my

dear prince,
Let my entreaties now prevail upon you
To hasten back to Venice, and your father,
Whose aged eyes are almost blind with weeping
For his dear son; and ere his sorrow kills him,
To light his face with joy.

Gonzaga. My good Vicenti,
Thinkest thou this absence from my home delights me,
But as it suits my love ?---Wer't not for Julia,

My father ne'er should mourn his absent son;
Eur. Mag. Vol. 89.

R

"; 84:12 Nor will that absence be lamented by him; À S901?

When the world's paragon, my lovely Julia, ton 90 fsH
Shall greet his aged sight, and the Realtow jonen bid!
Shall sound with admiration's loud acclaim. loft 48

Vicenti. But know you not what perils heret await you,
Where Sforza, deadly foe to all your race, 91 to 9N DIE
Dominion holds, who would no more his daughter ! OT"
Wed to your arms than would the crocodile in svino
Lodge with the crested snake. 100 shio bucla est bus

Gonzaga. Peril, however, ja $351133 van 13T
Must not be thought of, was the golden fleece sw3837"
The guerdon of the slumberer ? what were beauty,
Did not encircling danger guard its charms? seg

Vicenti. But tell me, has the beauteous princess yeti
Consented to accompany your flight
To Venice, and become your consort there?

Gonzaga. She has not yet, but I have long intended
To move my suit with her to take that step;
And knowing, as she does, that from her father ise
To seek consent were madness, she will listen, 1 ST
I have no doubt, unto my fond proposal ... ?
To-night I have appointed for our meeting, iodinioti
Within the garden of the palace, where Windri
You must wait for me, then we will resolve , }
What measure to adopt.

[Exeunt Vicenti
Gonzaga. Delightful Julia ! fairest of thy sex Size
And ever most sincere : what other lovers! es va ?*
Gain but by inroads and cold coquetry, denou en
Thou hast at once bestow'd; pure as the snow,
Yet not so comfortless, still ever prompt to grant
What generous nobleness of heart may give ;
Yet chaste as Dian's priestess: what can pay
Thy matchless bounty, or suffice to shew
Thy zeal and adoration ? be it mine
To strew for ever round thy lovely path
Life's sweetest roses, and defend thy form
From the rude gales that might percliance destroy it. )
But now to Strozzi's palace, who hath bid me
To his carousal; and from thence I go:

5
With rapture and with transport to my love. .

[Erennt
Scene III.-The Garden, as before described - Moonlight.
Enter SFORZA and CON TARINOZNIK, OBV

'I ...;"3089 Sforza. This was the place ?

3 anno Don't Contarino. It was, my

Lord.

Deurne
Sforza. Here will I wait until they come, as waits
The fierce impatient panther, he lurks
Behind the bush, and marks his prey approaching ;

And thoughi-with famine furious, still he keeps {$*$18] His post conceal'd, and recks not of delay,

So that he gain his destin'd victim's blood, 03 not
To glut his ravenous hunger..!!

Contarino. Why these words. 10 W
Why do you harbour such a vengeful bate 3 otit
'Gainst Foscari's cursed race ?

Sforza. I hate them all
Venice, and Foscari, all.

1.1177,07 T
Contarino. Why so, my Lord ? : 11 pe

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Sforza. And dost thou ask, thou ask that foolish question ?
Hath he not overstepp'd me; gain’d my all ?
Did he not, when I woo'd Vittoria, tear

Her from my arms, and gain her as his bride? ! voĄnd in the war when last we were engag'd,

Did he not tear the laurels from my brow,
To make a wreath for him ? And can, I then,
Forgive him? Yea, I will have his blood,
And the blood of his son, dearer than his,
To glut my stern revenge.

Contarino. And can you purpose
So shallow a revenge, as to destroy
Gonzaga in the presence of his mistress?
He has a friend with him, who will, no doubt,
Should he be missing, carry straight the news
Unto the Doge, who, to revenge his fall,
Will rouse his people, and create a war
Destructive to you both.

Sforza. No, Contarino,
That would be compensation small indeed,
For injuries so great. I will proceed,
Mole-like, in my revenge, and undermine
Their boasted happiness. Yes, Sir, my plan
Is sure : though I go inch by inch, yet, still,

When once it is accomplish'd, all will fall
#117977 Like the last consummation, when the world

Shall fall to ashes_crumble into dust.

Contarino. But hist, my Lord,--their footsteps now approach :Let us conceal ourselves.

(They retire.)

Enter JULIA and ISABELLA.

Julia. How still is all the scene! See, where the moon
Illumes, with paly lustre, the bright sheen
Of verdant leaf and rosy blossoming,
Shedding a flood of day. Cynthia, hail !
Oh, bow I love to view thy halcyon light!
Calmness itself is slow: to look at thee,
And think of deeds of bloodshed, were, methinks,
Impossible : so pure and virgin-fair
Is thy clear beam.

Isabella. To you, my honour'd Lady,
Such contemplations may be profitable,
3 But I feel nothing but the damp pight-air,
And think of nothing but the midnight ruffian,
Who lurks to stab the lonesome passenger ;
But heaven protects us. Why delays so long
The Cavalier Gonzaga ?

Julia. Hark! I hear his tread.

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GONZAGA without.

(Enters.)

Gonzaga. Wait, good Vicenti, until I return.
Health to thee, my sweet Julia ! Never bent
A Persian to his God with more devotion,
When he, new-born, ascends the firmament,
Than I to thee; nor ever did there come
A Dervise with more sanctity of love
To Mecca or Medina's holy shrine,
Than now comes thy Gonzaga, f. -

Julia. Arise, my Lord,
Nor think that my affection glows less warmly;

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