Siege, The: Or, Love's Convert, A Tragi-Comedy - Act 3. Scene 1

ACT. III. SCEN. I .

Misander discover'd asleep, Leucasia to him.

Leu . All things are husht & laid, except my thoughts;
Somthing puls back my hand, methinks, and tels me
'Tis not a Virgin's Office to be cruell.
I would that he were dead, but not by me.
I am afraid. But do I only tremble?
Is that all I retain of Innocence?
Shee's too near guilt that only fears, and she
That's come so far as only to be stopp'd
By a misgiving Heart, hath don't already.
I cannot then retire me from the sin,
Though I do leave the Action unconsummate,
On then, Leucasia , on: that Tyrant hath
The same Design on thee, but that he will
Put it in practise by an easier way.
Prevent him then, and — — what? I am afraid
To hear it nam'd: I have decreed within me
Somthing I dare not tell unto my self.
And truly 't hath been told me, that there is
A place, where after Death all sins are punish'd.
There be my wrongs Reveng'd — — But wilt thou then
Betray thine Honour to him, and bequeath
Thy self to willing Infamy? Thy Deed
Hath Heav'n for its Defence; thine Innocence
Prompts thee to do it; it is Vertue strikes,
The Blow is none of thine — — Yet some do say
The Ghosts of those that are thus us'd do haunt
The guilty after death, and I shall then
Be frighted every minute — — But thy Father,
Thy Father doth perswade thee; 'tis not thou,
It is Eudemus strikes — — Yet I shall never
Endure to see his bloud gush out in streams:
'Twill be an hideous sight to view his wounds
Open, and gaping as it were for her
That newly made 'm Can a Virgin this?
A Virgin wrong'd can more — — But I'm not safe;
All things, methinks, have Eyes: this wavering Taper
Doth seem to watch, and listen what I say,
And trembles now to think what shall be done:
It is a Spy; first then extinguish that.
Darknesse belongs unto thy deed. Sin never
Yet wanted light; there's something that directs it
Without a Day — — good Heav'n! how sound he sleeps!
I cannot do it for my heart — — 'Tis best
That I retire unseen — —
Mis . So perish
All that do seek my life.
Leuc . O! O!
Mis . When Kings
Lye down, ev'n Darknesse doth become their Guard,
And Night keeps watch. Misander's sleep hath Eyes.
Lights here, what lights ho!
Leuc . O!
Mis . Is't thee my fair one?
(Quickly, a Surgeon ho! the hurt is mine:
Haste; every drop of Bloud's your Soveraigne's.)
Said I my sleep had Eyes! O, if it had,
Thou ne'r hadst fall'n. This is a deed, that makes
Ev'n me asham'd, one, who they say ne'r blusht,
But only to cast out all Modesty.
Be husht, O Fame, in this part of my Life!
Oblivion, seize thou but this deed, and let me
[Not] become the talk of all Posterity.
What e'r I did before was yet virile,
Having this plea at least, that 'twas to Man.
The Sex here is my shame, what shall I say
The Beauty of it is? That makes mine Act
Deform'd beyond expression: 'Tis a sin
That puzzles all Invention to outstrip,
And comes a Novelty to History.
Leu . Why have you us'd her thus, that could not wound you?
Mis . And art thou kind yet, fair Leucasia ?
I dare not call thee mine. My Act's more hainous
In that thou still affect'st me, and thy Love
Makes me more wicked than the wrong I've done thee.
Thou hast found one way more t'augment my fault.
Leuc . If I did please you, why am I thus wounded?
If not, O why doe not you wound me more?
If thus you use those whom you love, your Subjects
Will make their pray'rs to heaven to be hated.
Mis . Bind up her wound as tender as you can,
And be as Gentle, as I have been Cruell.
Here Health her self should come and work the Cure.
Nature lyes sick whiles she doth. O my Fate!
Y're idle O ye Gods! where is your Thunder? — —
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.