Rule and admit no rivals. The pure springs, Than I can bring a whole heart pure and handsome. ARNOLDO TEMPTED BY HYPOLITA. FROM THE SAME. Arn. Fy, stand off; And give me leave more now than e'er to wonder Be excellent in all as you are outward: The worthy mistress of those many blessings Heav'n has bestowed, make 'em appear still nobler, Because they're trusted to a weaker keeper. Would you have me love you? Hip. Yes. Arn. Not for your beauty; Though I confess it blows the first fire in us; Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it, Fortune, that ruins all, make that his conquest. you; At least be wise: and, where you lay these nets, Strew over them a little modesty, 'Twill well become your cause, and catch more fools. Hip. Could any one, that lov'd this wholesome counsel, But love the giver more?—You make me fonder. You have a virtuous mind-I want that ornament. Is it a sin, I covet to enjoy you?- If you imagine I'm too free a lover, And act that part belongs to you, I'm silent. I'll steal it thus. I'll walk your shadow by you, SCENE IN THE COMEDY OF MONSIEUR THOMAS. Valentine having formed the noble resolution of giving up his mistress Cellide to preserve the life of his friend Francis, who is in love with her, is supposed to hear the following dialogue, unknown to Francis. Francis. BLESS me, what beams Flew from those angel eyes! Oh, what a misery, VOL. I. B B What a most studied torment 'tis to me now you; I see you've need. Francis. You are a fair physician; You bring no bitterness, gilt o'er, to gull us, [Enter VALENTINE privately. For this I think must cure you. Francis. Of which, lady? Sure she has found my grief.-Why do you blush so? Cellide. Do you not understand? of this,-this cordial. Valentine. Oh, my afflicted heart! she's gone for ever1. Fran. What heaven you have brought me, lady! For 'tis not impudence, nor want of honour, Fran. A virtuous blessing crown you! Oh, goodly sweet! can there be so much charity, 1 Valentine is supposed to remain undiscovered, and his speeches not to be heard by Francis and Cellide. So noble a compassion in that heart, That's fill'd up with another's fair affections? Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man, When all the power you have, and perfect object, Lies in another's light, and his deserves it? Cel. Do not despair; nor do not think too boldly I dare abuse my promise; 'twas your friend's, That here I am, by his command, to cure ye; Fran. Hold, for heaven sake! Must my friend's misery make me a triumph? Val. Ha! say'st thou so?-Nay, then thou shalt Fran. And tho' I love ye above the light shines on me; Beyond the wealth of kingdoms; free content (For you are all the wonder reveal'd of it); A worthy gratitude, to one most worthy Cel. Pray tell me, If I had never known that gentleman, Cel. And can you be unwilling, He being old and impotent ?—his aim, too, Truly consider, sir, what misery— Fran. For virtue's sake, take heed! Cel. What loss of youth, What everlasting banishment from that years do only covet to arrive at, Equal affections, born and shot together! What living name can dead age leave behind him? What act of memory, but fruitless doting? Fran. This cannot be. Cel. To you, unless you apply it With more and firmer faith, and so digest it: |