The Wonder-Working Magician | Page 8

intensifies my anger
All the more, that she,
my mistress,
Whom I love, should love another.
Her selection could
do little
In the matter, which at last
To our swords should be
committed,--
The accepted for his honour,
The refused for his
dismissal.
FLORUS. I confess that I adopt
Altogether that opinion,
Still the
privilege of selection
May to ladies be permitted;
So to-day I mean
to ask her
Of her father. 'Tis sufficient
To have come here to the
field,
And my naked sword uplifted,
(Specially as one is by
Who
the further fight resisteth,)
For my honour;-- so to sheathe,
Lelius,
my sword I'm willing.
[Sheathes his sword.
LELIUS. By your argument and action,
Florus, you have half
convinced me;
I forego the remaining half --
True or false, I thus
act with you.
[Sheathes his sword.
I to-day will seek her father.
CYPRIAN. On, of course, the supposition,
That this lady you pay
court to
Suffers naught by the admission,
Since you both have
spoken proudly
Of her virtue and her strictness,
Tell me who she is;
for I,
Who am held throughout the city
In esteem, would for you
both
Speak to her at first a little
That she thus may be prepared

When her father tells your wishes.
LELIUS. You are right.
CYPRIAN. Her name?
FLORUS. Justina,
Daughter of Lysander.
CYPRIAN. Little,
Now that I have heard her name,
Seem the
praises you have given her;

She is virtuous as she's noble.
Instantly
I'll pay my visit.
FLORUS [aside]. May heaven grant that in my favour
Her cold heart

be moved to pity!
[Exit.
LELIUS. Love, my hopes with laurels crown
When they are to her
submitted!
[Exit.
CYPRIAN. Further mischief or misfortune,
Grant me, heaven, that I
may hinder!
[Exit.

SCENE VI.
MOSCON, CLARIN.
MOSCON. Has your worship heard our master
Now is gone to pay a
visit
To Justina?
CLARIN. Yes, my lord.
But what matter if he didn't?
MOSCON. Matter quite enough, your worship;
He has no business
there.
CLARIN. Why, prithee?
MOSCON. Why? because I die for Livia,
Who is maid to this Justina,

And I wouldn't have even the sun
Get a glimpse of her through the
window.
CLARIN. Well, that's good; but, for a lady,
To contend were worse
than silly,
Whom I mean to make my wife.
MOSCON. Excellent, faith! the fancy tickles
Quite my fancy. Let her
say
Who it is that annoys or nicks her
To a nicety. Let's go see her,

And she'll choose.
CLARIN. A good idea!--
Though I fear she'll pitch on you.

MOSCON. Have you then that wise suspicion?
CLARIN. Yes; for always these same Livias
Choose the worst,
th'ungrateful minxes.*
[Exeunt.
[footnote] *The 'asonante' versification in 'i-e', which has been kept up
through these six scenes, ends here. The seventh scene commences in
rhymed five-line stanzas, which change to the asonante in e-e, at the
beginning of Lysander's long speech.

SCENE VII.
A HALL IN THE HOUSE OF LYSANDER.
Enter JUSTINA and LYSANDER.
JUSTINA. Consolation, sir, is vain,
After what I've seen to-day:

The whole city, madly gay,
Error-blinded and insane,
Consecrating
shrine and fane
To an image, which I know,
Cannot be a god,
although
Some demoniac power may pass,
Making breathe the
silent brass
As a proof that it is so.
LYSANDER. Fair Justina, thou indeed,
Wert not who thou art, if
thou
Didst not weep as thou dost now,
Didst not in thy pure heart
bleed
For what Christ's divinest creed
Suffers on this sinful day.
JUSTINA. Thus my lineage I display:--
For thy child I could not be,

Could I without weeping see
This idolatrous display.
LYSANDER. Ah, my good, my gentle maid!
Thou art not my
daughter, no,
'Twere too happy, if 'twere so.
But, O God! what's this
I've said?--
My life's secret is betrayed!
'Twas my soul that spoke
aloud.
JUSTINA. What do you say, sir?

LYSANDER. Oh! a crowd
Of old thoughts my heart hath stirred.
JUSTINA. Many times methought I heard
What but now you have
avowed,
And yet never wished to hear,
At the risk perchance of
paining,
A more accurate explaining
Of your sorrow and my fear;

But since now it doth appear
Right that I should be possess'd
Of the
whole truth half confess'd,
Let me say, though bold appearing,--

Trust your secret to my hearing,
Since it hath escaped your breast.
LYSANDER. Ah! Justina, I have long
Kept this secret from your ears,

Fearing from your tender years
That the telling might be wrong;

But now seeing you are strong,
Firm in thought, in action brave,

Seeing too, that with this stave,
I go creeping o'er the ground,

Rapping with a hollow sound
At the portals of the grave,
Knowing
that my time is brief,
I would not here leave you, no,
In your
ignorance; I owe
My own peace, too, this relief:
Then attentive to
my grief
Let your pleasure list.
JUSTINA. A fear
Struggles in my breast.
LYSANDER. Severe
Is the test my duty pays.
JUSTINA. From this most perplexing maze
Oh, sir, rescue me.
LYSANDER. Then hear.
I, most beautiful Justina,
Am
Lysander . . . . This commencement
With my name need not surprise
you;
For though known to you already,
It is right, for all that
follows,
That it should be well remembered,
Since of me you know
no more
Than what this my name presenteth.
Yes, I am Lysander,
son
Of that city which on Seven
Hills a hydra seems of stone,

Since it seven proud heads erecteth;
Of