To force affection, is beyond our art,
For I have prov'd all means that hell has taught me,
Or the malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
To change _Arnoldo's_ love, but to no purpose:
But for your bond-woman--
_Hip._ Let her pine and dye;
She remov'd, which like a brighter Sun,
Obscures my beams, I may shine out again,
And as I have been, be admir'd and sought to:
How long has she to live?
_Sulp._ Lady, before
The Sun twice rise and set, be confident,
She is but dead; I know my Charm hath found her.
Nor can the Governours Guard; her lovers tears;
Her Fathers sorrow, or his power that freed her,
Defend her from it.
_Enter_ Zabulon.
_Zab._ All things have succeeded,
As you could wish; I saw her brought sick home;
The image of pale death, stampt on her fore-head.
Let me adore this second Hecate,
This great Commandress, of the fatal Sisters,
That as she pleases, can cut short, or lengthen
The thread of life.
_Hip._ Where was she when the inchantment
First seis'd upon her?
_Zab._ Taking the fresh air,
In the company of the Governour, and Count _Clodio_,
_Arnoldo_ too, was present with her Father,
When, in a moment (so the servants told me)
As she was giving thanks to the Governour,
And _Clodio_, for her unexpected freedom,
As if she had been blasted, she sunk down,
To their amazement.
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