Volume Ix Part 89 (1/2)

SCAENA UNDECIMA.

VISUS, SOMNUS.

VIS. Sage Telemus, I now too late admire Thy deep foresight and skill in prophecy, Who whilom told'st me, that in time to come Ulysses should deprive me of my sight.

And now the slave, that march'd in Outis' name, Is prov'd Ulysses; and by this device Hath 'scap'd my hands, and fled away by sea, Leaving me desolate in eternal night.

Ah, wretched Polypheme! where's all thy hope, And longing for thy beauteous Galatea?

She scorn'd thee once, but now she will detest And loathe to look upon thy dark'ned face; Ah me, most miserable Polyphemus!

But as for Ulysses, heaven and earth Send vengeance ever on thy d.a.m.ned head, In just revenge of my great injury!

[SOMNUS _binds him_.

Who is he that dares to touch me? Cyclops, come, Come, all ye Cyclops, help to rescue me.

[SOMNUS _charms him; he sleeps_.

SOM. There rest thyself, and let thy quiet sleep Restore thy weak imaginations.

SCAENA DUODECIMA.

LINGUA, SOMNUS, VISUS.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! O, how my spleen is tickled with this sport The madding Senses make about the woods!

It cheers my soul, and makes my body fat, To laugh at their mischances: ha, ha, ha, ha!

Heigho, the st.i.tch hath caught me: O, my heart!

Would I had one to hold my sides awhile, That I might laugh afresh: O, how they run, And chafe, and swear, and threaten one another!

[SOMNUS _binds her_.

Ay me, out, alas! ay me, help, help, who's this that binds me?

Help, Mendacio! Mendacio, help! Here's one will ravish me.

SOM. Lingua, content yourself, you must be bound.

LIN. What a spite's this? Are my nails pared so near? Can I not scratch his eyes out? What have I done? What, do you mean to kill me? Murder, murder, murder!

[_She falls asleep_.

SCAENA DECIMA TERTIA.

GUSTUS, _with a voiding knife[308] in his hand_.

SOMNUS, LINGUA, VISUS.

GUS. Who cries out murder? What, a woman slain!

My Lady Lingua dead? O heavens unjust!