Are all my joys abstracted:-death to my thoughts! My other plague comes to me.

Enter FIORMONDA and JULIA.

Fior. My lord Fernando, what, so hard at study! You are a kind companion to yourself,

That love to be alone so.

Fern. Madam, no;

I rather chose this leisure to admire

The glories of this little world, the court,
Where, like so many stars, on several thrones,
Beauty and greatness shine in proper orbs;
Sweet matter for my meditation.

Fior. So, so, sir! (leave us, Julia) [Exit JUL.] your own proof,

By travel and prompt observation,

Instructs you how to place the use of speech.-
But since you are at leisure, pray let's sit;
We'll pass the time a little in discourse:
What have you seen abroad?

Fern. No wonders, lady,

Like these I see at home.

Fior. At home! as how?

Fern. Your pardon, if my tongue, the voice of

So far above all beauties else abroad,
As you are, in your own, superlative.

Fior. Fy, fy! your wit hath too much edge.
Fern. Would that,

Or any thing, that I could challenge mine,
Were but of value to express how much

I serve, in love, the sister of my prince!

Fior. "Tis for your prince's sake then, not for

mine?

Fern. For you in him, and much for him in you, I must acknowledge, madam, I observe,

In your affects," a thing to me most strange, Which makes me so much honour you the

more.

Fior. Pray tell it.

Fern. Gladly, lady:

I see how opposite to youth and custom,
You set before you, in the tablature

Of your remembrance, the becoming griefs
Of a most loyal lady, for the loss

Of so renown'd a prince as was your lord.
Fior. Now, good my lord, no more of him.
Fern. Of him!

I know it is a needless task in me,

To set him forth in his deserved praise,
You better can record it; for you find,
How much more he exceeded other men
In most heroic virtues of account,

So much more was your loss in losing him.

Of him! his praise should be a field too large,
Too spacious, for so mean an orator

Fior. Sir, enough: 'tis true

He well deserv'd your labour; on his death-bed
This ring he gave me, bade me never part
With this, but to the man I lov'd as dearly

As I loved him; yet since you know which way
To blaze his worth so rightly, in return

To your deserts, wear this for him and me.

Fern. Madam?

[Offers him the ring.

Fior. 'Tis yours.

Fern. Methought you said, he charged you

Not to impart it but to him you loved

As dearly as you loved him.

Fior. True, I said so.

Fern. Oh, then far be it my

unhallow'd hand,

With any rude intrusion, should unveil
A testament enacted by the dead.

Fior. Why man, that testament is disannull'd,
And cancell'd quite by us that live. Look here,
My blood is not yet freez'd; for better instance,
Be judge yourself; experience is no danger-
Cold are my sighs; but feel, my lips are warm.
[Kisses him.
Fern. What means the virtuous marquess?

Fior. To new-kiss

The oath to thee, which whilst he lived was his:

Hast thou yet power to love?

Fern. To love!

Fior. To meet

Sweetness of language in discourse as sweet?

Fern. Madam, 'twere dulness, past the igno

rance

Of common blockheads, not to understand
Whereto this favour tends; and 'tis a fortune
So much above my fate, that I could wish
No greater happiness on earth; but know,
Long since, I vow'd to live a single life.
Fior. What was 't you said?

Fern. I said, I made a vow

Enter BIANCA, PETRUCHIO, COLONA, and
D'AVOLOS.

Blessed deliverance!

Fior. Prevented? mischief on this interruption!

[Aside.

Bian. My lord Fernando, you encounter fitly,

I have a suit t'ye.

Fern. Tis my duty, madam,

To be commanded.

Bian. Since my lord, the duke,

Is now dispos'd to mirth, the time serves well

For mediation, that he would be pleased

To take the lord Roseilli to his grace.

He is a noble gentleman; I dare
Engage my credit, loyal to the state;
And, sister, one that ever strove, methought,
By special service, and obsequious care,
To win respect from you: it were a part
Of gracious favour, if you pleas'd to join

With us, in being suitors to the duke
For his return to court,

Fior. To court! indeed,

You have some cause to speak; he undertook,
Most champion-like, to win the prize at tilt,
In honour of your picture ;-marry did he.
There's not a groom o' th' querry could have
match'd

The jolly riding man; pray get him back;

I do not need his service, madam, I.

Bian. Not need it, sister? why, I hope you think

'Tis no necessity in me to move it, More than respect of honour.

Fior. Honour? puh!

Honour is talk'd of more than known by some.
Bian. Sister, these words I understand not.
Fern. (aside.) Swell not, unruly thoughts!-
Madam, the motion you propose, proceeds
From the true touch of goodness; 'tis a plea
Wherein my tongue and knee shall jointly strive
To beg his highness for Roseilli's cause.
Your judgment rightly speaks him; there is not,
In any court of Christendom, a man
For quality or trust more absolute.

Fior. How! is't even so?

Pet. I shall for ever bless

[Aside.

Your highness, for your gracious kind esteem
Of my dishearten'd kinsman; and to add
Encouragement to what you undertake,

I dare affirm, 'tis no important fault
Hath caus'd the duke's distaste.