Volume Vi Part 36 (2/2)

To help thee to digest thine injury, Appease thee with Hermione's tragedy.

FIDELIA.

Far be the thought of that accursed deed, O sweet Hermione, my sweet Hermione!

Foul be his fall that makes thy body bleed, O sweet Hermione, my sweet Hermione!

And, father, this I vow: forgive it me, 1 will be sacrifice for this offence, And or I will have my Hermione, My chosen love, or never part from hence.

Him hath the destinies ordained mine, Most worthy me, your daughter, every way; Nor he to any will his choice resign-- No more my troubled thoughts will let me say.

PHIZANTIES.

What wilt thou, foolish girl and obstinate?

Say'st thou this treason is devis'd by fate?

That shall we try. Despatch her hence away.

Let's see who dares our princely will gainsay.

PENULO.

Sir, and you'll have us carry her, here be them come of the carriers.

LENTULO.

And you'll have us marry her, here be them come of the marriers.

PENULO.

Lord! I marvel to whose share this lady will fall: I am sure my part in her will be least of all.

VENUS _and_ FORTUNE _show themselves, and speak to_ PHIZANTIES, _while_ HERMIONE _standeth in amaze_.

VENUS.

High time it is that now we did appear, If we desire to end their misery.

FORTUNE.

Phizanties, stay, and unto us give ear.

What thou determin'st performed cannot be.

PHIZANTIES.

Dread G.o.ddess whatsoever of this place, If I herein have disobeyed thy grace, Of favour grant for to remit the same: Let me not suffer undeserved blame.

VENUS.

Phizanties, stand up; be of good cheer.

None but thy friends are met together here-- Thy friends, though G.o.ddesses in other things-- Yet interchange an alteration brings.

And now, whereas you seek in what you can To let your child to marry with this man, Know that it is the pleasure of our will, That they together be conjoined still.

For 'tis not so--he is not born so base As you esteem, but of a n.o.ble race.

His father is the good Bomelio, That sleepeth here oppress'd with woe, Whom Phalaris thy father, on a false report, In wrath and anger banished his court: But this is he, to whom thou wishest oft good, And this his son, born of a n.o.ble blood.

Think it no scorn to thee or thine hereafter To have his son espoused to thy daughter.

PHIZANTIES.

Right gracious G.o.ddess, if this be true indeed, As I believe, because from you it doth proceed, Then pardon me, for had I known it so, His son had never tasted of this woe.

Unwitting of his lineage till this time, Not,[134] presumed, sprung of a n.o.ble line.

Put[135] hence, and please your deities, my grief, Because my son is dumb without relief.

PENULO.

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