To Constantinople, whither I must follow him.—
But ere he went, with many sighs and tears
He deliver'd me the chain, and bad me give it you
For perfect argument that he was true,
And you too credulous.
Perseda.
Ah, stay no more,
For I can hear no more.
Piston.
And I can sing no more.
Perseda.
My heart had arm'd my tongue with injury,
To wrong my friend, whose thoughts were ever true.
Ah, poor Erastus! how thy stars malign!
Thou great commander of the swift-wing'd winds
And dreadful Neptune, bring him back again:
But, Æolus and Neptune, let him go;
For here is nothing but revenge and death:
Then, let him go; I'll shortly follow him,
Now with slow sails, but with love's golden wings:
My ship shall be borne with tears, and blown with sighs;
So will I soar about the Turkish land,
Until I meet Erastus, my sweet friend:
And then and there fall down amid his arms,
And in his bosom there pour forth my soul,
For satisfaction of my trespass past.
Enter Basilisco armed.
Basilisco.