SCENE VIII.

EUGENIO, CRICCA, FLAVIA.

EUG. Cricca, commend my service to my mistress.

CRI. Commend it to her yourself. Mark'd you not, while We talk'd, how through the window she attended, And fed her eyes on you? there she is.

EUG. 'Tis true: And, as from nights of storms the glorious sun Breaks from the east, and chaseth thence the clouds That chok'd the air with horror, so her beauty Dispels sad darkness from my troubled thoughts, And clears my heart.

FLA. Life of my soul, well met.

EUG. How is't, my dearest Flavia?

FLA. Eugenio, As best becomes a woman most unfortunate-- That, having lov'd so long, and been persuaded Her chaste affection was by yours requited, Have by delays been famish'd. Had I conceal'd Those flames your virtue kindled, then y' had sued, Entreated, sworn, and vow'd, and, long ere this, Wrought all means possible to effect our marriage. But now----

EUG. Sweet soul, despair not; weep not thus, Unless you wish my heart should lifeblood drop, Fast as your eyes do tears. What is't you fear?

FLA. First, that you love me not.

EUG. Not love my Flavia! Wrong not your judgment: rip up this amorous breast, And in that temple see a heart that burns I' th' vestal sacrifice of chastest love Before your beauty's deity.

FLA. If so, Whence grows this coldness in soliciting My brother to the match?

EUG. Consider, sweetest, I have a father, rival in my love; And though no duty, reverence, nor respect, Have power to change my thoughts; yet 'tis not comely With open violence to withstand his will; But by fair courses try to divert his mind[304] From disproportioned affections. And if I cannot, then nor fear of anger, Nor life, nor lands, shall cross our purposes. Comfort yourself, sweet Flavia; for your brother Seconds our hopes with his best services.

FLA. But other fears oppress me: methinks I see Antonio, my old father, new-return'd, Whom all intelligence gave drown'd this three months,[305] Enforcing me to marry th' fool Pandolfo, Thus to obtain Sulpitia for himself; And so last night I dream'd, and ever since Have been so scar'd, that, if you haste[n] not, Expect my death.

EUG. Dreams flow from thoughts of things we most desire Or fear; and seldom prove true prophets; would they did! Then were I now in full possession Of my best Flavia, as I hope I shall be.

CRI. Sir, pray take your leave: this is to no end, 'Twill but increase your grief and hers.

EUG. Farewell, Sweet Flavia; rest contented with assurance Of my best love and service.

FLA. Farewell, Eugenio. [_Exeunt_ EUGENIO _and_ CRICCA.