Prepare yourself, and meet at court anon, Some half-hour hence; and Cupid bless your joy! Rose. If ever man was bounden to a friend,— Fern. No more; away! [Exeunt Pet. and Rose. Love's rage is yet unknown; In his--ay me !13-too well I feel my own!So, now I am alone; now let me think. She is the duchess; say she be; a creature Sew'd-up in painted 14 cloth might so be styl'd; That's but a name : she's married too; she is, And therefore better might distinguish love : She's young and fair; why, madam, that's the bait Invites me more to hope: she's the duke's wife; Who knows not this ?-she's bosom'd to my friend; There, there, I am quite lost: will not be won; Still worse and worse: abhors to hear me speak; Eternal mischief! I must urge no more; For, were I not be-leper'd in my soul, Here were enough to quench the flames of hell. Plead thou my faith, for words are turn'd to sighs. Enter D'AVOLOS behind with two pictures. D'Av. [aside] Now is the time. Alone? reading a letter? good; how now! striking his breast! what, in the name of policy, should this mean? tearing his 13 ay me!] See note, vol. i. p. 165. D. 14 in painted] Gifford printed "in a painted." D. hair! passion; by all the hopes of my life, plain passion! now I perceive it. If this be not a fit of some violent affection, I am an ass in understanding; why, 'tis plain,-plainer and plainer; love in the extremest. O, for the party who, now! The greatness of his spirits is too high cherished to be caught with some ordinary stuff, and if it be my Lady Fiormonda, I am strangely mistook. Well, that I have fit occasion soon to understand. I have here two pictures newly drawn, to be sent for a present to the Abbot of Monaco, the duchess' uncle, her own and my lady's: I'll observe which of these may, perhaps, bewray him he turns about.-My noble lord! Fern. You're welcome, sir; I thank you. D'Av. Me, my lord! for what, my lord? Fern. Who's there? I cry you mercy, D'Avolos, I took you for another; pray, excuse me. What is't you bear there? D'Av. No secret, my lord, but may be imparted to you a couple of pictures, my good lord,-please you see them? Fern. I care not much for pictures; but whose are they? D'Av. Th' one is for my lord's sister, the other is the duchess. Fern. Ha, D'Avolos! the duchess's? D'Av. Yes, my lord.-[Aside] Sure, the word startled him: observe that. Fern. You told me, Master Secretary, once, You ow'd me love. D'Av. Service, my honoured lord; howsoever you please to term it. Fern. 'Twere rudeness to be suitor for a sight; Yet trust me, sir, I'll be all secret. D'Av. I beseech your lordship ;-they are, as I am, constant to your pleasure. [Shows Fiormonda's picture.] This, my lord, is the widow marquess's, as it now newly came from the picture-drawer's, the oil yet green a sweet picture; and, in my judgment, art hath not been a niggard in striving to equal the life. Michael Angelo himself needed not blush to own the workmanship. Fern. A very pretty picture; but, kind signior, To whose use is it? D'Av. For the duke's, my lord, who determines to send it with all speed as a present to Paul15 Baglione, uncle to the duchess, that he may see the riches of two such lustres as shine in the court of Pavy. Fern. Pray, sir, the other? D'Av. [shows the picture of the Duchess] This, my lord, is for the Duchess Bianca: a wondrous sweet picture, if you well observe with what singularity the artsman hath strove to set forth each limb in exquisitest proportion, not missing a hair. Fern. A hair! D'Av. She cannot more formally, or—if it may be lawful to use the word-more really, behold her own symmetry in her glass than in taking a sensible view of this counterfeit. When I first saw it, I verily almost was of a mind that this was her very lip. Fern. Lip! D'Av. [aside] How constantly he dwells upon this portraiture! Nay, I'll assure your lordship there is no defect of cunning.-[Aside] His eye is fixed as if it were incorporated there.-Were not the party herself alive to witness that there is a creature composed of flesh and blood as naturally enriched with such harmony of admirable beauty as is here artificially counterfeited, a very curious eye might repute 15 Paul] Gifford printed "Paulo :" but see p. 12. D. it as an imaginary rapture of some transported conceit, to aim at an impossibility; whose very first gaze is of force almost to persuade a substantial love in a settled heart. Fern. Love! heart! D'Av. My honoured lord,— Fern. O heavens ! D'Av. [aside] I am confirmed. What ails your lordship? Fern. You need not praise it, sir; itself is praise.— [Aside] How near had I forgot myself!-I thank you. 'Tis such a picture as might well become The shrine of some fam'd16 Venus; I am dazzled D'Av. I am all your servant.-[Aside] Blessed, blessed discovery!-Please you to command me? Fern. No, gentle sir.-[Aside] I'm lost beyond my senses. D'ye hear, sir? good, where dwells the picture-maker? Fern. You say enough; my thanks t'ye! [Exit But rated at my lordship, 'twere too cheap. I fear I spoke or did I know not what ; All sense of providence was in mine eye. Enter FERENTES, MAURUCCIO, and GIACOPO. Fer. [aside] Youth in threescore years and ten!— Trust me, my Lord Mauruccio, you are now younger in the judgment of those that compare your former age with your latter by seven-and-twenty years than 16 fam'd] The 4to has "fain'd." D. you were three years ago: by all my fidelity, 'tis a miracle! the ladies wonder at you. Maur. Let them wonder; I am wise as I am courtly. Gia. The ladies, my lord, call him the Green Broom of the court,―he sweeps all before him,-and swear he has a stabbing wit: it is a very glister to laughter. Maur. Nay, I know I can tickle 'em at my pleasure; I am stiff and strong, Ferentes. Gia. [aside] A radish - root is a spear of steel in comparison of I know what. Fer. The marquess doth love you. Maur. She doth love me. Fer. And begins to do you infinite grace, Mauruccio, infinite grace. Fern. I'll take this time.-[Comes forward] Good hour, my lords, to both! Maur. Right princely Fernando, the best of the Fernandos; by the pith of generation, the man I look for. His highness hath sent to find you out he is determined to weather his own proper individual person for two days' space in my Lord Nibrassa's forest, to hunt the deer, the buck, the roe, and eke the barren doe. Fern. Is his highness preparing to hunt? Maur.1 17 Yes, my lord, and resolved to lie forth for the breviating the prolixity of some superfluous transmigration of the sun's double cadence to the western horizon, my most perspicuous good lord. Fern. O, sir, let me beseech you to speak in your own mother tongue.-[Aside] Two days' absence, well. -My Lord Mauruccio, I have a suit t'ye, Maur. My Lord Fernando, I have a suit to you. |