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You shall for ever make me yours.
Annophel:
'Twere pity to double your Captivity.
Arcanes:
Who's here, _Decius_?
[Enter _Decius_]
Ca.s.silanes:
Ha! _Decius_? who nam'd _Decius_?
Decius:
My duty to your Lords.h.i.+p, I am bold, Presuming on your n.o.ble, and known goodness To--
Ca.s.silanes:
What?
Decius:
Present you with this-- 269]
Ca.s.silanes:
Letter?
Decius:
Yes, my honour'd Lord.
Ca.s.silanes:
From whom?
Decius:
'Please you peruse The inside, and you shall find a name subscrib'd, In such humility, in such obedience, That you your self will judge it tyranny Not to receive it favourably.
Ca.s.silanes:
Hey-day!
Good words my Masters: this is Court-infection, And none but Cowards ply them: tell me, _Decius_, Without more circ.u.mstance, who is the Sender?
Decius:
Your most griev'd Son, _Antinous_.
Ca.s.silanes:
On my life A Challenge; speak, as thou art worthy, speak; I'll answer't.
Decius:
Honour'd Sir.
Ca.s.silanes:
No honour'd Sirs-- Fool your young Idol with such pompous Attributes.
Say briefly, what contains it?
Decius:
'Tis a lowly Pet.i.tion for your favour.
Ca.s.silanes:
Rash young man, But that thou art under my own roof, and know'st I dare not any way infringe the Laws Of Hospitality, thou should'st repent Thy bold and rude intrusion. But presume not Again to shew thy Letter, for thy life; _Decius_, not for thy life.
Arcanes:
Nay then, (my Lord) I can with-hold no longer; you are too rough, And wrestle against nature with a violence More than becomes a Father; wherein would ye Come nearer to the likeness of G.o.d, Than in your being entreated? Let not thirst Of Honour, make you quite forget you are A Man, and what makes perfect manhoods, comforts A Father.
Annophel:
If a memory remain Of my departed Mother; if the purity 270] Of her unblemish'd faith deserve to live In your remembrance, let me yet by these Awake your love to my uncomforted Brother.
Fernando:
I am a Stranger, but so much I tender Your Sons desertful Vertues, that I vow His Sword ne'r conquer'd me so absolutely, As shall your courtesie, if you vouchsafe At all our instances, to new receive him Into your wonted favour.
Gaspero:
Sir, you cannot Require more low submission.
Annophel:
Am I not Grown vile yet in your eyes? then by the name Of Father, let me once more sue for him, Who is the only now remaining Branch With me, of that most ancient root, whose Body You are, dear Sir.
Ca.s.silanes:
'Tis well, an host of furies Could not have baited me more torturingly, More rudely, or more most unnaturally.
_Decius_, I say, let me no more hear from him; For this time go thou hence, and know from me Thou art beholding to me that I have not Kill'd thee already, look to't next, look to't.
_Arcanes_ fie, fie _Annophel_.
