Viol. Gerrard not come? nor Dorothy return'd?
What averse star rul'd my Nativity?
The time to night has been as dilatory
As languishing Consumptions. But till now
I never durst say, my Gerrard was unkind.
Heaven grant all things go well; and nothing does,
If he be ill, which I much fear: my dreams
Have been portentous. I did think I saw
My Love araid for battel with a beast,
A hideous Monster, arm'd with teeth and claws,
Grinning, and venemous, that sought to make
Both us a prey: on's tail wa lash'd in bloud
Law: and his forehead I did plainly see
Held Characters that spell'd Authority.
This rent my slumbers; and my fearful soul
Ran searching up and down my dismaid breast,
To find a Port t'escape. Good faith, I am cold;
But Gerrard's love is colder: here I'll sit,
And think my self away.
Enter Ferdinand with a Cup and a Letter.
Ferd. The peace of Love
Attend the sweet Violanta: Read,
For the sad news I bring, I do not know;
Only I am sworn to give you that, and this.
Viol. Is it from G[e]rrard? gentle Ferdinand,
How glad am I to see you thus well restor'd!
In troth he never wrong'd you in his life,
Nor I, but always held fair thoughts of you,
Knew not my Fathers meaning, till of late;
Could never have known it soon enough: for Sir,
Gerrard's, and my affection began
In infancy: My Uncle brought him oft
In long coats hither; you were such another;
The little boy would kiss me, being a child,
And say, he lov'd me; give me all his toys,
Bracelets, Rings, Sweet-meats, all his Rosie-smiles:
I then would stand, and stare upon his eyes,
Play with his locks, and swear I lov'd him too;
For sure, methought, he was a little Love,
He woo'd so prettily in innocence,
That then he warm'd my fancy; for I felt
A glimmering beam of Love kindle my bloud,
Both which, time since hath made a flame and floud.
Fer. Oh gentle innocent! methinks it talks
Like a child still, whose white simplicity
Never arriv'd at sin. Forgive me, Lady,
I have destroy'd Gerrard, and thee; rebell'd
Against Heavens Ordinance; dis-pair'd two Doves,
Made 'em sit mourning; slaughter'd Love, and cleft
The heart of all integrity. This breast
Was trusted with the secret of your vow
By Gerrard, and reveal'd it to your Father.
Viol. Hah!
Ferd. Read, and curse me.
Viol. Neither: I will never
Nor Write, nor Read again.
Ferd. My pennance be it.
Reads. Your Labyrinth is found, your Lust proclaim'd.
Viol. Lust? Humh:
My Mother sure felt none, when I was got.