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Such delay is easy.-
Most sweetly gracious !
Crot. Euphranea, how are you resolved, speak freely, In your affections to this gentleman ?
Euph. Nor more nor less than as his love assures me ; Which—if your liking with my brother's warrantsI cannot but approve in all points worthy.
Crot. So, so !-[To PROPHILUS] I know your answer. Ith.
'T had been pity To sunder hearts so equally consented.
Enter HEMOPHIL. Hem. The king, Lord Ithocles, commands your pre
sence ; And, fairest princess, yours. Cal.
We will attend him.
Well, sir ?
'Twas my fortune, madam, T' enjoy the honour of these happy tidings.
Ith. Penthea !-
Let me an hour hence
Pro. I shall.
Alone, pray be alone.-I am your creature, princess.--On, my lords !
[Exeunt all but BASSANES. Bass. Alone ! alone ! what means that word “ alone"? Why might not I be there ?—hum !-he's her brother. Brothers and sisters are but flesh and blood, And this same whoreson court-ease is temptation To a rebellion in the veins ;--besides, His fine friend Prophilus must be her guardian : Why may not he dispatch a business nimbly Before the other come ?-or-pandering, pandering For one another,-be't to sister, mother, Wife, cousin, anything,—'mongst youths of mettle Is in request; it is so---stubborn fate ! But if I be a cuckold, and can know it, I will be fell, and fell.
My lord, you're called for.
Still I thank ye. There's an old waiter with her ; saw you her too ? Gro. She sits i’ the presence-lobby fast asleep, sir. Bass. Asleep! asleep, sir !
Is your lordship troubled ? You will not to the king ?
Your humblest vassal.
I wait your footsteps.
SCENE III.- The Gardens of the Palace. A Grove.
Enter Prophilus and PENTHEA.
Sir, I'm not inquisitive
Pro. With pardon, lady, not a syllable Of mine implies so rude a sense; the drift
Enter ORGILUS, disguised as before. [To Org.] Do thy best To make this lady merry for an hour.
Org. Your will shall be a law, sir. [Exit PROPHILUS. Pen.
Prithee, leave me ; I have some private thoughts I would account with ; Use thou thine own. Org.
Speak on, fair nymph ; our souls
Pen. Your school-terms are too troublesome.
What Heaven Refines mortality from dross of earth
But such as uncompounded beauty hallows
Set thy wits
Time can never
Be not frantic,
Pen. Away! some Fury hath bewitched thy tongue :
Be just, Penthea,
1 This passage is corrupt; it was amended by Gifford; the old copy reads,
“as the incense smoking
Are folded up from view of common eyes.
[Throws off his Scholar's dress. What is thy sentence next? Pen.
Rash man! thou lay'st
Lend your hand;
[PENTHEA kneels. Org.
You instruct my duty. [ORGILUS kneels. Pen. We may stand up. [They rise.] Have you aught
else to urge
Org. I would possess my wife; the equity
Is that all ?
You are obeyed ; 'tis done.
[He resumes his disguise.