Her. Yes, the virtuous Lysicles—for his respects to me,
Howe'er unhappy, challenged that name—
In your absence labours to marry me: yet death——
Eug. Wretched Eugenio! did thy coward fate
Not dare to strike thee, till thou turn'dst thy back?
Must I return from banishment to find
My hopes are banish'd? Did I for this love virtue,
Pursued her rugged paths, when danger made
Her horrid to the valiant to be ruin'd
By him that is most virtuous? Ye gods,
Was envy, malice, fortune impotent
To injure me, but you must raise up virtue to suppress
Me? If I suffer it, I shall deserve it.
Her. O my Eugenio! we are miserable,
Yet must not quarrel, love, to take or give
A seeming comfort: go, try all your power
Of hate or friendship to undo this match;
I'll give you leave to die first—anything,
But let not me have so much leave to change,
As to believe you think it possible. [Exeunt.
[ACT IV., SCENE 3.]
Enter Lysicles and Servant.
Ser. The physician you sent for waits without.
Lys. Bring him in, and stay in the next room.
Enter Physician.
You are welcome: I must employ your trust and secrecy in something that concerns me. You must procure me instantly a powerful poison.