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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [1718]

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thee.

PROX.

Disgrace and mischief! Ile enforce new charms,

New spells, and spirits rais'd from the low Abyss

Of hells unbottom'd depths.

AUREL.

We have enough, sir;

Give o're your charms, wee'l find some other time

To praise your Art. I dare not but acknowledge

That heavenly Power my heart stands witness to:

Be not dismaid, my Lords, at this disaster,

Nor thou, my fairest Queen: we'l change the Scene

To some more pleasing sports. Lead to your Chamber.

How 'ere in this thy pleasures finde a croos,

Our joy's too fixed here to suffer loss.

TOCLIO.

Which I shall adde to, sir, with news I bring:

The Prince, your Brother, lives.

AUREL.

Ha!

TOCLIO.

And comes to grace this high and heaven-knit Marriage.

AUREL.

Why dos thou flatter me, to make me think

Such happiness attends me?

Enter PRINCE UTER And OSWOLD.

TOCLIO.

His presence speaks my truth, sir.

DONO.

Force me, 'tis he: look, Gloucester.

GLOST.

A blessing beyond hope, sir.

AUREL.

Ha! 'tis he: welcome, my second Comfort.

Artesia, Dearest Love, it is my Brother,

My Princely Brother, all my Kingdoms hope:

Oh, give him welcome, as thou lov'st my health.

ARTES.

You have so free a welcome, sir, from me,

As this your presence has such power, I swear,

O're me, a stranger, that I must forget

My Countrey, Name, and Friends, and count this place

My Joy and Birth-right.

PRINCE.

'Tis she! 'tis she, I swear! oh, ye good gods, 'tis she!

Thatfqace within those woods where first I saw her,

Captived my senses, and thus many moneths

Bar'd me from all society of men.

How came she to this place,

Brother Aurelius? Speak that Angels name,

Her heaven-blest name, oh, speak it quickly, Sir.

AUREL.

It is Artesia, the Royal Saxon Princes.

PRINCE.

A woman, and no Deity, no feigned shape,

To mock the reason of admiring sense,

On whom a hope as low as mine may live,

Love, and enjoy, dear Brother, may it not?

AUREL.

She is all the Good or Vertue thou canst name,

My Wife, my Queen.

PRINCE.

Ha! your wife!

ARTES.

Which you shall finde, sir, if that time and fortune

May make my love but worthy of your tryal.

PRINCE.

Oh!

AUREL.

What troubles you, dear Brother?

Why with so strange and fixt an eye dost thou

Behold my Joys?

ARTES.

You are not well, sir.

PRINCE.

Yes, yes. - O, you immortal powers,

Why has poor man so many entrances

For sorrow to creep in at, when our sense

Is much too weak to hold his happiness?

Oh, say, I was born deaf: and let your silence

Confirm in me the knowing my defect;

At least be charitable to conceal my sin,

For hearing is no less in me, dear Brother.

AUREL.

No more!

I see thou art a Rival in the Joys

Of my high Bliss. Come, my Artesia;

The Day's most prais'd when 'tis ecclipst by Night,

Great Good must have as great Ill opposite.

PRINCE.

Stay, hear but a word; yet now I think on't,

This is your Wedding-night, and were it mine,

I should be angry with least loss of time.

ARTES.

Envy speaks no such words, has no such looks.

PRINCE.

Sweet rest unto you both.

AUREL.

Lights to our Nuptial Chamber.

ARTES.

Could you speak so,

I would not fear how much my grief did grow.

AUREL.

Lights to our Chamber; on, on, set on!

(Exeunt. Manet PRINCE.

PRINCE.

'Could you speak so,

I would not fear how much my griefs did grow.'

Those were her very words; sure, I am waking:

She wrung me by the hand, and spake them to me

With a most passionate affection.

Perhaps she loves, and now repents her choice,

In marriage with my brother. Oh, fond man,

How darest thou trust thy Traitors thoughts, thus to

Betreay thyself? 'twas but a waking dream

Wherein thou madest thy wishes speak, not her,

In which thy foolish hopes strives to prolong

A wretched being. So sickly children play

With health lov'd toys, whuch for a time delay,

But do not cure the fit. Be, then, a man,

Meet that destructon which thou canst not flie.

From not to live, make it thy best to die,

And call her now, whom thou didst hope to wed,

Thy brothers wife: thou art too nere a

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