Dul. Alas! had not your grace been provident,
A very Nestor in advice and knowledge,
Ha! where had you, poor Dulcimel, been now?
What vainness had not I been drawn into!
Gon. ’Fore God! she speaks very passionately. Alas! daughter, Heaven gives every man his talent; indeed, virtue and wisdom are not fortune’s gifts, therefore those that fortune cannot make virtuous, she commonly makes rich; for our own part, we acknowledge Heaven’s goodness; and, if it were possible to be as wise again as we are, we would ne’er impute it to ourselves: for, as we be flesh and blood, alas! we are fools; but as we are princes, scholars, and have read Cicero de Oratore, I must confess there is another matter in’t. What of the prince, dear daughter? 637
Dul. Father, do you see that tree, that leans just on my chamber window?
Gon. What of that tree?
Enter Tiberio with his train.
Dul. O, sir, but note the policy of youth;
Mark but the stratagems of working love.
The prince salutes me, and thus greets my ear.
Gon. Speak softly; he is enter’d.
Dul. Although he knew I yet stood wavering what to elect, because, though I affected, yet destitute of means to enjoy each other, impossibility of having might kill our hope and with our hope desires to enjoy, therefore, to avoid all faint excuses and vain fears, thus he devised
—To Dulcimel’s chamber-window 650
A well-grown plane tree spreads his happy arms
By that, in depth of night, one may ascend