Lady. Pray make haste; he waits too long.
Entreat him hither. In despite of all [Exit Servant.
The tyrant's cruelties, we have got the[460] friendship
E'en of the guard that he has plac'd about us,
My lord and I have free access together,
As much as I would ask of liberty;
They'll trust us largely now, and keep sometimes
Three hours from us, a rare courtesy
In jailers' children; some mild news, I hope,
Comes with my father.
Enter Helvetius.
No, his looks are sad;
There is some further tyranny; let it fall!
Our constant sufferings shall amaze it all. [She kneels.
Hel. Rise.
I will not bless thee: thy obedience
Is after custom, as most rich men pray,
Whose saint is only fashion and vainglory;
So 'tis with thee in thy dissembled duty,
There's no religion in't, no reverent love:
Only for fashion and the praise of men.
Lady. Why should you think so, sir?
Hel. Think? I know't and see't.
I'll sooner give my blessing to a drunkard,
Whom the ridiculous power of wine makes humble,
As foolish use makes thee. Base-spirited girl,
That can'st not think above disgrace and beggary,
When glory is set for thee and thy seed,
Advancement for thy father, beside joy
Able to make a latter spring in me
In this my fourscore-summer, and renew me
With a reversion yet of heat and youth!
But the dejection of thy mind and spirit
Makes me (thy father) guilty of a fault
That draws thy birth in question, and e'en wrongs
Thy mother in her ashes, being at peace
With heav'n and man. Had not her life and virtues
Been seals unto her faith, I should think thee now
The work of some hir'd servant, some house-tailor,
And no one part of my endeavour in thee.
Had I neglected greatness; or not rather
Pursu'd ['t] almost to my eternal hazard,
Thou'dst ne'er been a lord's daughter!
Lady. Had I been
A shepherd's, I'd been happier and more peaceful.
Hel. Thy very seed will curse thee in thy age,
When they shall hear the story of thy weakness:
How in thy youth thy fortunes tender'd thee
A kingdom for thy servant, which thou left'st
Basely to serve thyself; what dost thou in this,
But merely cosen thy posterity
Of royalty and succession, and thyself
Of dignity present?
Lady. Sir, your king did well
'Mongst all his nobles to pick out yourself,
And send you with these words: his politic grace
Knew what he did, for well he might imagine
None else should have been heard; they'd had their answer,
Before the question had been half-way through.
But, dearest sir, I owe to you a reverence,
A debt which both begins and ends with life:
Never till then discharg'd, 'tis so long lasting.
Yet could you be more precious than a father,
(Which next a husband is the richest treasure
Mortality can show us) you should pardon me,
And yet confess too that you found me kind
To hear your words, though I withstood your mind.