Ant. Issue of his hopes? strange!—
[Aside.
Mach. The crown's enjoyment can yield no content
Without the presence of my Auristella.
Ant. Crown's enjoyment!
O villain!
Mach. Why stir you not? fetch me some skilful man,
My kingdom shall reward him; if his art
Chain her departing soul unto her flesh
But for a day, till she be crown'd a queen:
Fly, bring him unto this walk.
Ant. Stay,
Most honoured count—now for a forged link
Of flattery to chain me to his love.
[Aside.
Having with studious care gone o'er the art
Folly terms magic, which more sublime souls
Skill'd i' the stars know is above that mischief,
I find you're born to be 'bove vulgar greatness,
Even to a throne: but stay, let's fetch this lady.
Mach. All greatness without her is slavery.
Ant. Use modest violence.