Cla. Were I not sure
Theres nought in him that can be titled ill,
I should have thought your circumspective Judgment
Had spide some error in him, and in care
Of me your child forbidden me his love.
But whatsoer’s the cause, though your comaund
Was like perdition welcome, my obedience
Fullfild it truly, without questioning
The reason why or the unlimited power
Of you my mother.
Lady. You did very well.
Now thou shalt know the reason, which before
I doe relate, afford me leave to weepe,
To save thy teares, which at the hearing of it
Will, like the dew on lillies, pearle thy cheekes.
I have beheld thee with a Rivalls eye
In Thurstons love; my penetrable heart,
Like a moist cloud, has opened and receivd
Loves fine bolt into it. Now thou knowst it,
Methinks I see confusion in thy lookes
Prepard to blast me.
Cla. Heaven forbid it I
Should ere conceive the meanest thought of ill
Of you, my parent. Since you love him, here
To heaven and you I give my interest up
And would I could as well commaund his heart
As he might mine, beleive me you should then
Affect you with as true and deare a zeale
As ever I did him: I should be happie
In making you soe.
Lady. Charitable girle,
Forgive thy cruell mother, who must yet
Impose a stronger penance on thy duty:
Thou must go to thy Thurston, and obtaine
His love.
Cla. A little labour will serve for that.
Lady. Not for thy selfe but for thy haplesse
mother,
Who am, without it, nothing. Woe him for me,
Use the inchanting musicke of thy voice
On my behalfe, who, though thy Rivall, yet
Remember I’m thy mother; nor canst thou
Consigne thy breath to a more holy use
(Though thou shouldst spend it in religious prayers)
Then to redeeme thy parent. Weepe for me,
And in requitall for each drop thou shedst
I’ll pay to heaven a Hecatombe of teares
For thy successe. But take good heede, deare
child,
While thou art weeping, thou dost not disclose
That face of thine; for, were he mine by vow,
Loves powerfull Retorick uttered [in?] thyne eyes
Would winn from me.
Enter Thurston and Thorowgood.
Cla. Here comes the Gentleman.
Lady. Be earnest, Clariana, I shall
heare you.
[Exit.
Tho. Sir, you must iuistifie this.
Thu. Feare it not; yonder she goes; I’ll tell her of it, sheele not denie it.
Cla. Mr. Thurston, whether do you walke soe fast?
Thu. O, Clarianna, are you there?
Cla. Nay, stay, I have a suite to you.
Thu. I would Be loth to offend your eyes; when we last met You chargd me never to behold you more.