Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it, Fortune, that ruins all, make that his conquest. you; At least be wise: and, where you lay these nets, Strew over them a little modesty, 'Twill well become your cause, and catch more fools. Hip. Could any one, that lov'd this wholesome counsel, But love the giver more?—You make me fonder. You have a virtuous mind-I want that ornament. Is it a sin, I covet to enjoy you?— If you imagine I'm too free a lover, And act that part belongs to you, I'm silent. Mine eyes shall speak, my blushes parley with you; as that. SCENE IN THE COMEDY OF MONSIEUR THOMAS. Valentine having formed the noble resolution of giving up his mistress Cellide to preserve the life of his friend Francis, who, is in love with her, is supposed to hear the following dialogue, unknown to Francis. Francis. BLESS me, what beams Flew from those angel eyes! Oh, what a misery, VOL. I. B B What a most studied torment 'tis to me now you; I see you've need. Francis. You are a fair physician; You bring no bitterness, gilt o'er, to gull us, And my good wishes for your health, should merit [Enter VALENTINE privately. For this I think must cure you. Francis. Of which, lady? Sure she has found my grief.-Why do you blush so? Cellide. Do you not understand? of this,-this cordial. Valentine. Oh, my afflicted heart! she's gone for ever1 Fran. What heaven you have brought me, lady! For 'tis not impudence, nor want of honour, Fran. A virtuous blessing crown you! Oh, goodly sweet! can there be so much charity, 1 Valentine is supposed to remain undiscovered, and his speeches not to be heard by Francis and Cellide. So noble a compassion in that heart, That's fill'd up with another's fair affections? Can miracles be wrought upon a dead man, When all the power you have, and perfect object, Lies in another's light, and his deserves it? Cel. Do not despair; nor do not think too boldly I dare abuse my promise; 'twas your friend's, That here I am, by his command, to cure ye; Fran. Hold, for heaven sake! Must my friend's misery make me a triumph? Val. Ha! say'st thou so?-Nay, then thou shalt Fran. And tho' I love ye above the light shines on me; Beyond the wealth of kingdoms; free content 1 (For you are all the wonder reveal'd of it); A worthy gratitude, to one most worthy Cel. Pray tell me, If I had never known that gentleman, Cel. And can you be unwilling, He being old and impotent ?-his aim, too, Fran. For virtue's sake, take heed! What everlasting banishment from that Equal affections, born and shot together! What living name can dead age leave behind him? What act of memory, but fruitless doting? Fran. This cannot be. Cel. To you, unless you apply it With more and firmer faith, and so digest it: My gentle patient, I would fain say more, If you would understand. Val. Oh! cruel woman! Cel. Yet, sure your sickness is not so forgetful, Nor you so willing to be lost? Fran. Pray stay there: Methinks you are not fair now; methinks more, Fran. You have no share in goodness; The modest, the immaculate !-Who are you? Cel. Do not rave, sir, Nor let the violence of thoughts distract you; By those fair eyes, I do. Fran. Oh, double hearted! Oh, woman! perfect woman! what distraction Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil! What an inviting hell invented!-Tell me, And, if you yet remember what is goodness, Tell me by that, and truth, can one so cherish'd, Whose every day endeavours and desires |