Are gently lifted up and down by tides. At length the morn and cold indifference came ; Loth. Too soon I saw her: For, Oh! that meeting was not like the former : Loth. With uneasy fondness She hung upon me, wept, and sigh'd, and swore Ros. What answer made you? 180 Loth. None; but pretending sudden pain and illness, Escap'd the persecution. Two nights since, By message urg'd and frequent importunity, Again I saw her. Straight with tears and sighs, Loth. "Ev'n as the earth, 200 "When, winds pent up, or eating fires beneath, Enlarg'd her voice, and ruffled all her form. With deadly imprecations on herself, And, bowing, left her to grow cool at leisure. 220 Ros. She has relented since, else why this message, To meet the keeper of her secrets here Loth. See the person whom you nam'd! Enter LUCILLA. Well, my ambassadress, what must we treat of? And make her husband party to th' agreement. Luc. Is this well done, my lord? Have you put off All sense of human nature? Keep a little, A little pity, to distinguish manhood, Lest other men, tho' cruel, should disclaim you, Luc. I've learnt to weep: That lesson my sad mistress often gives me : Loth. Oh, no more! I swear thou'lt spoil thy pretty face with crying, 240 Some keeping cardinal shall doat upon thee, To man, who makes his mirth of our undoing! Rather than know the sorrows of Calista! Loth. Does she send thee to chide in her behalf? I swear thou dost it with so good a grace, That I could almost love thee for thy frowning. 260 Luc. Read there, my lord, there, in her own sad lines, [Giving a letter. Which best can tell the story of her woes, That grief of heart which your unkindness gives her. [Lothario reads. Your cruelty-Obedience to my father--Give my hand to Altamont. By Heav'n 'tis well! such ever be the gifts With which I greet the man whom my soul hates. But to go on! [Aside. -Wish- -Heart- Honour- -too faithlessWeakness-to-morrow-last trouble- -lost Calista. Women, I see, can change as well as men. She writes me here, forsaken as I am, That I should bind my brows with mournful willow, For she has giv'n her hand to Altamont: Yet, tell the fair inconstant Luc. How, my lord1 4 Loth. Nay, no more angry words: say to Calista, The humblest of her slaves shall wait her pleasure;' If she can leave her happy husband's arms, To think upon so lost a thing as I am. Luc. Alas! for pity, come with gentler looks: 86 Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph; And, tho' you love her not, yet swear you do, So shall dissembling once be virtuous in you. Loth. Ha! who comes here? Luc. The bridegroom's friend, Horatio. He must not see us here. To-morrow early Be at the garden gate. Loth. Bear to my love My kindest thoughts, and swear I will not fail her. [Lothario putting up the letter hastily, drops it as he goes out. [Exeunt Lothario and Rossano one way, Lucilla another. Enter HORATIO. Hor. Sure 'tis the very error of my eyes; What business could he have here, and with her? Profest and deadly hate-What paper's this? [Taking up the letter. Ha! To Lothario!-'s death! Calista's name! Confusion and misfortunes! [Opening it. [Reads. |