mean to keep From you for ever; I did hear you talk, Far above singing.  After you were gone, I grew acquainted with my heart, and searched What stirred it so:  alas, I found it love!  Yet far from lust; for, could I but have lived In presence of you, I had had my end.  For this I did delude my noble father With a feigned pilgrimage, and dressed myself In habit of a boy; and, for I knew My birth no match for you, I was past hope Of having you; and, understanding well That when I made discovery of my sex I could not stay with you, I made a vow, By all the most religious things a maid Could call together, never to be known, Whilst there was hope to hide me from men’s eyes.  For other than I seemed, that I might ever Abide with you.  Then sat I by the fount, Where first you took me up.

King—­Search out a match Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt, And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself Wilt well deserve him.

Bellario—­Never, sir, will I Marry; it is a thing within my vow:  But if I may have leave to serve the princess, To see the virtues of her lord and her, I shall have hope to live.

Arethusa—­I, Philaster, Cannot be jealous, though you had a lady Drest like a page to serve you; nor will I Suspect her living here.—­Come, live with me; Live free as I do.  She that loves my lord, Cursed be the wife that hates her!

     FROM ‘THE MAID’S TRAGEDY’

     CONFESSION OF EVADNE TO AMINTOR

     Evadne—­Would I could say so [farewell] to my black disgrace! 
     Oh, where have I been all this time? how friended,
     That I should lose myself thus desperately,
     And none for pity show me how I wandered? 
     There is not in the compass of the light
     A more unhappy creature:  sure, I am monstrous;
     For I have done those follies, those mad mischiefs,
     Would dare a woman.  Oh, my loaden soul,
     Be not so cruel to me; choke not up
     The way to my repentance!

[Enter Amintor.]

O my lord!

Amintor—­How now?

Evadne—­My much-abused lord! [Kneels.]

Amintor—­This cannot be!

Evadne—­I do not kneel to live; I dare not hope it;
The wrongs I did are greater.  Look upon me,
Though I appear with all my faults.

     Amintor—­Stand up. 
     This is a new way to beget more sorrows: 
     Heaven knows I have too many.  Do not mock me: 

     Though I am tame, and bred up with my wrongs,
     Which are my foster-brothers, I may leap,
     Like a hand-wolf, into my natural wildness,
     And do an outrage:  prithee, do not mock me,