Pet. She is; and, to speak truth, I think right

noble

In her conditions.

Fern. If, when I should choose,

Beauty and virtue were the fee proposed,

I should not pass for parentage.

Pet. The duke

Doth come.

Fern. Let's break off talk: if ever, now, Good angel of my soul, protect my truth! [Aside.

Enter the DUKE, BIANCA, FIORMONDA, NIBRASSA, FERENTES, JULIA, and D'AvOLOS.

Duke. Come, my Bianca, revel in mine arms; Whilst I, wrapt in my admiration, view Lilies and roses growing in thy cheeks. Fernando! oh, thou half myself! no joy Could make my pleasures full without thy pre

sence:

I am a monarch of felicity,

Proud in a pair of jewels, rich and beautiful;
A perfect friend, a wife above compare.

Fern. Sir,-if a man so low in rank may hope,

By loyal duty and devoted zeal,

To hold a correspondency in friendship
With one so mighty as the Duke of Pavy,
My uttermost ambition is to climb

To those deserts may give the stile of servant.
Duke. Of partner in my dukedom, in my heart,
As freely as the privilege of blood

Hath made them mine ;-Philippo and Fernando

Shall be without distinction. Look, Bianca,
On this good man; in all respects to him
Be as to me: only the name of husband,
And reverent observance of our bed,
Shall differ us in persons, else in soul
We are all one.

Bian. I shall, in best of love,

Regard the bosom-partner of my lord.

Fior. Ferentes.

Fer. Madam ?

[Aside to FER.

Fior. You are one loves courtship;

He hath some change of words, 'twere no lost la

bour

To stuff your table-books;' the man speaks wisely! Fer. I am glad your highness is so pleasant. Duke. Sister!

Fior. My lord and brother.

Duke. You are too silent,

Quicken your sad remembrance: though the loss
Of your dead husband be of more account
Than slight neglect, yet 'tis a sin against
The state of princes, to exceed a mean
In mourning for the dead.

Fior. Should form, my lord,

Prevail above affection? no, it cannot.
You have yourself here a right noble duchess,

3 To stuff your table-books.] i. e. to set down in your memorandum, or pocket book. She speaks ironically, and affects to characterize Fernando as a ready talker, a mere man of words. It is in this sense that Ferentes understands her.

4 Quicken your sad remembrance.] i. e. Enliven your melancholy recollections by the admission of pleasanter thoughts

C C

Virtuous at least, and should your grace now pay, Which heaven forbid! the debt you owe to nature, I dare presume, she'd not so soon forget

A prince that thus advanced her.—Madam, could

you?

D'Av. Bitter and shrewd.

[Aside.

Bian. Sister, I should too much bewray my weakness,

To give a resolution' on a passion

I never felt nor fear'd.

Nib. A modest answer.

Fern. If credit may be given to a face, My lord, I'll undertake on her behalf; Her words are trusty heralds to her mind. Fior. (aside to D'Av.) Exceeding good; the man will" undertake!"

Observe it, D'Avolos.

D'Av. Lady, I do;

"Tis a smooth praise.

Duke. Friend, in thy judgment I approve thy love,

And love thee better for thy judging mine.
Though my gray-headed senate, in the laws
Of strict opinion and severe dispute,
Would tie the limits of our free affects,"

---

I should bewray my weakness,

To give a resolution (to speak decisively) on a passion

I never felt nor fear'd.] i. e. ingratitude. It is well answered: " but she'll keep her word!"

6 Would tie the limits of our free affects.] i. e. affections. So, in the Case is Alter'd,

"Rachel, I hope I shall not need to urge

The sacred purity of our affects."

And see Jonson, vol. ii. p. 281.

(Like superstitious Jews, to match with none But in a tribe of princes like ourselves,)

Gross nurtur'd slaves, who force their wretched souls

To crouch to profit; nay, for trash and wealth,
Dote on some crooked or misshapen form;
Hugging wise nature's lame deformity,
Begetting creatures ugly as themselves :--
But why should princes do so, that command
The storehouse of the earth's hid minerals ?—
No, my Bianca, thou art to me as dear

As if thy portion had been Europe's riches;
Since in thine eyes lies more than these are worth.
Set on; they shall be strangers to my heart,
That envy thee thy fortunes.-Come, Fernando,
My but divided self; what we have done
We are only debtor to heaven for.-On!

Fior. (aside to D'Av.) Now take thy time, or never, D'Avolos;

Prevail, and I will raise thee high in grace.
D'Av. Madam, I will omit no art.

[Exeunt all but D'Av. who recals FERN. My honour'd lord Fernando!

Fern. To me, sir?

D'Av. Let me beseech your lordship to excuse me in the nobleness of your wisdom, if I exceed good manners: I am one, my lord, who, in the admiration of your perfect virtues, do so truly honour and reverence your deserts, that there is not a creature bears life, shall more faithfully study to do you service in all offices of duty, and vows of due respect.

Fern. Good sir, you bind me to you; is this all? D'Av. I beseech your ear a little; good my lord, what I have to speak, concerns your reputation and best fortune.

Fern. How's that! my reputation? lay aside Superfluous ceremony; speak, what is it?

D'Av. I do repute myself the blessedest man alive, that I shall be the first gives your lordship news of your perpetual comfort.

Fern. As how?

D'Av. If singular beauty, unimitable virtues, honour, youth, and absolute goodness be a fortune, all those are at once offered to your particular choice.

Fern. Without delays, which way?

D'Av. The great and gracious lady Fiormonda loves you, infinitely loves you.-But, my lord, as ever you tendered a servant to your pleasures, let me not be revealed, that I gave you notice on't.

Fern. Sure you are strangely out of tune, sir. D'Av. Please but to speak to her; be but courtly ceremonious with her, use once but the language of affection, if I misreport ought besides my knowledge, let me never have place in your good opinion. Oh, these women, my lord, are as brittle metal as your glasses, as smooth, as slippery,-their very first substance was quicksands: let them look never so de

7 Their very first substance was quicksands.] This is said in allusion to the traditionary stories of the first discovery of glass by the Phoenician mariners, in consequence of their lighting a fire on the sand.