duke.
(Aside to Fabian.) Watch this woman;
Suspicion wakes at her discourse.—(To Zorayda.)—
That shadow
Hath oft-time pass'd, no danger thence betiding.
zorayda.
Thy death can happen not, save when, as now,
The pale moon flings yon omen from her beam;
But ever it bodes danger.
duke.
For this purpose
Enterest thou my chamber?
zorayda.
I have sought thee
To give rejected counsel.—What! some treachery
From me thou fearest!—Bind me—gird my chains
To the unhewn rock beneath the unvisited depths
Of these abhorr'd foundations—I would wear them
Without a murmur could'st thou listen!—Hark!
Thus runs the record of thy house:
"When the proud eagle
From his cloud-wreath'd nest
Enamour'd meets the dove,
And sighs on her soft bosom,
One shaft shall pierce them."
Duke, beware——that shaft shall come!
Let it not find thee in that perilous hour,
Prescience forebodes thee, at some lady's ear
Sighing unhallowed love.—Its malice then
Harms not thy breast, another bears the stroke!
Remember—once again I meet thee. [Exit Zorayda.
fabian.
My lord, the guard shall rid you of the witch.
duke.
Let her depart, she harms me not.
fabian.
You seem
O'erspent with watching, and forget your couch.—
Betake you now to your accustom'd rest?
duke.
My rest?—'Tis well;—but will the couch give rest?
Ay, to the wearied limb—but not the weary breast!
Follow me, boy, unto my chamber. [Exeunt.