Cynthia. 
And what can be the cause that he is so?

Nisida. 
Ah! that I do not know,
But yonder, leaving the Salarian Way,
A Roman soldier hitherward doth stray: 
He may enlighten us and tell us all.

Cynthia. 
Yes, let us know the truth, the stranger call.

Daria (aside). 
Ah! how distinct the pain
That presses on my heart, and dulls my wildered brain!

(Enter Escarpin.)

Nisida. 
Thou, O thou, whose wandering footsteps
These secluded groves have entered . . .[9]

Escarpin. 
Thou four hundred times repeated—­
Thou and all the thous, your servant.

Nisida. 
Tell us of the proclamation
Publicly to-day presented
To the gaze of Rome.

Escarpin. 
                      I ’ll do so;
For there ’s nothing I love better
Than a story (aside, if to tell it
In divine Daria’s presence
Does not put me out, for no one,
When the loved one listens, ever
Speaks his best):  Polemius,
Rome’s great senator, whose bended
Shoulders, like an Atlas, bear
All the burden of the empire,
By Numerian’s self entrusted,
He, this chief of Rome’s great senate,
Has a son, by name Chrysanthus,
Who, as rumour goes, at present
Is afflicted by a sadness
So extreme and so excessive,
That ’t is thought to be occasioned
By the magic those detested
Christians (who abhor his house,
And his father, who hath pressed them
Heavily as judge and ruler)
Have against his life effected,
All through hatred of our gods. 
And so great is the dejection
That he feels, there ’s nothing yet
Found to rouse him or divert him. 
Thus it is Numerianus,
Who is ever well-affected
To his father, hath proclaimed
All through Rome, that whosoever
Is so happy by her beauty,
Or so fortunately clever
By her wit, or by her graces
Is so powerful, as to temper
His affliction, since love conquers
All things by his magic presence,
He will give her (if a noble)
As his wife, and will present her
With a portion far surpassing
All Polemius’ self possesses,
Not to speak of what is promised
Him whose skill may else effect it. 
Thus it is that Rome to-day
Laurel wreaths and crowns presenteth
To its most renowned physicians,
To its sages and its elders,
And to wit and grace and beauty
Joyous feasts and courtly revels;
So that there is not a lady
In all Rome, but thinks it certain
That the prize is hers already,
Since by all ’t will be contested,
Some through vanity, and some
Through a view more interested: 
Even the ugly ones, I warrant,
Will be there well represented. 
So with this, adieu. (Aside, Oh! fairest
Nymph Daria, since I ventured
Here to see thee, having seen thee
Now, alas!  I must absent me!) [Exit.