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_Silv._ I am not-- well--
_Cleo._ Sleep, Sir, will give you ease.
_Silv._ I cannot sleep, my Wounds do rage and burn so, as they put me past all power of rest.
_Cleo._ We'll call your Surgeon, Sir.
_Silv._ He can contribute nothing to my Cure, But I must owe it all to thee, _Cleonte_.
_Cleo._ Instruct me in the way, give me your Arm, And I will bathe it in a thousand Tears, [Goes to untie his Arm.
And breathe so many Sighs into your Wound--
_Silv._ Let that slight hurt alone, and search this-- here.
[To his Heart.
_Cleo._ How! are you wounded there, And would not let us know it all this while?
_Silv._ I durst not tell you, but design'd to suffer, Rather than trouble you with my Complaints: But now my Pain is greater than my Courage.
_Fran._ Oh, he will tell her, that he loves her sure. [Aside.
_Cleo._ Sit down and let me see't.
[He sits down, she puts her Hand into his Bosom.
_Fran._ Oh foolish Innocence-- [Aside.
_Cleo._ You have deceiv'd me, Brother, here's no Wound.
_Silv._ Oh take away your Hand-- It does increase my Pain, and wounds me deeper.
_Cleo._ No, surely, Sir, my Hand is very gentle.
_Silv._ Therefore it hurts me, Sister; the very thoughts Of Touches by so soft and fair a Hand, Playing about my Heart, are not to be indur'd with Life.
[Rises in pa.s.sion.
_Cleo._ Alas, what means my Brother?
_Silv._ Can you not guess, fair Sister? have my Eyes So ill exprest my Soul? or has your Innocence Not suffer'd you to understand my Sighs?
Have then a thousand Tales, which I have told you, Of Broken Hearts, and Lovers Languishments, Not serv'd to tell you, that I did adore you?
_Cleo._ Oh let me still remain in Innocence, Rather than sin so much to understand you.
_Fran._ I can endure no more-- [Goes out.
_Silv._ Can you believe it Sin to love a Brother? it is not so in Nature.
_Cleo._ Not as a Brother, Sir; but otherwise, It is, by all the Laws of Men and Heaven.
_Silv._ Sister, so 'tis that we should do no Murder, And yet you daily kill, and I, among the number Of your Victims, must charge you with the sin Of killing me, a Lover, and a Brother.
_Cleo._ What wou'd you have me do?
_Silv._ Why-- I would have thee-- do-- I know not what-- Still to be with me-- yet that will not satisfy; To let me look-- upon thee-- still that's not enough.
I dare not say to kiss thee, and imbrace thee; That were to make me wish-- I dare not tell thee what--
_Cleo._ I must not hear this Language from a Brother.
[She offers to go.
_Silv._ What a vile thing's a Brother?
Stay, take this Dagger, and add one Wound more [He kneels and offers her a Dagger, and holds her by the Coat.
To those your Eyes have given, and after that You'll find no trouble from my Sighs and Tears.
Enter _Francisca_.
_Fran._ By this she understands him, curse on her Innocence, 'Tis fuel to his flame-- [Aside.] Madam, there is below a Lady, who desires to speak with the Mistress of the House.
_Cleo._ At this hour a Lady! who can it be?
_Fran._ I know not, but she seems of Quality.
_Cleo._ Is she alone?
_Fran._ Attended by a Gentleman and an old Woman.
_Cleo._ Perhaps some one that needs a kind a.s.sistance; my Father is in Bed, and I'll venture to know their Business; bring her up.
_Fran._ 'Twere good you should retire, Sir.
[To _Silvio_, and Exit.
_Silv._ I will, but have a care of me, _Cleonte_, I fear I shall grow mad, and so undo thee: Love me-- but do not let me know't too much. [Goes out.
Enter _Francisca_ with Lights; follow'd by _Alonzo_, _Clarinda_, and _Dormida_: _Alonzo_ gazes on _Cleonte_ a while.
_Cleo._ Is't me you would command?
_Clar._ I know not what to say, I am so disorder'd. [Aside.
_Alon._ What Troops of Beauties she has! sufficient to take whole Cities in-- Madam, I beg-- [Takes _Clarinda_ by the Hand, and approaches _Cleonte_.
_Cleo._ What, Sir?
_Alon._ That you would receive into Protection--
_Cleo._ What pray, Sir?
_Alon._ Would you would give me leave to say, a Heart That your fair Eyes have lately made unfit For its old Quarters.
_Cleo._ I rather think you mean this Lady, Sir.