A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vi Part 27

BOMELIO.

I spake of such an one indeed.

HERMIONE.

Why, do you know her name?

BOMELIO.

Fidelia. Why do you ask? What, do you know the same?

HERMIONE.

Yea, father, that I do: I know, and knew her well.

But did you wish those plagues to light on her, I pray you tell?

BOMELIO.

On her! the G.o.ds forbid; but on that wretched wight Her brother, that from hence right now perforce convey'd her quite.

HERMIONE.

Alas! what do I hear? Good father, tell me true, Hath she been here?

BOMELIO.

She was.

HERMIONE.

She was! Where is she now?

BOMELIO.

Gone back again.

HERMIONE.

Gone back! With whom?

BOMELIO.

Her brother.

HERMIONE.

Her brother! How?

BOMELIO.

He secret watched here; and when she should have stay'd Awhile with me, he rushed out and her from hence convey'd.

HERMIONE.

Confounded in my grief! And can it suff'red be?

And shall he make a brag at home of his despite to me?

First let me die a thousand deaths; draw, run and meet with him.

BOMELIO.

Tarry, my son; it is in vain: they are now[97] at home, I ween.

Let him alone; he will not make great reck'ning of his gain.

HERMIONE.

Wretch that thou art for lingering! everlasting shall be thy pain; Continual thy complaint, aye-during still thy woe, Why mad'st thou not more haste to come, and first of all to know?

BOMELIO.

Content thyself, my son; torment not so thy mind: a.s.suage the sorrows of thy heart, in hope some help to find.

HERMIONE.

Some help! O father, no; all help comes too late.

I am the man of all alive[98] the most unfortunate.

BOMELIO.

I[99] see thy loyalty, I see thy faithful love, Else never durst thou this attempt adventured to prove.

Take comfort thereby, my son.

HERMIONE.

I am the man, I say, That Love and Fortune once advanc'd, but now have cast away.

The joy, the sweet delight, the rest I had before, Fell to my lot that now the loss, my plague, might be the more.

O Fortune! froward dame, wilt thou be never sure?

Most constant in inconstancy I see thou wilt endure.

BOMELIO.

Accuse not Fortune, son, but blame thy love therefor; For I perceive thou art in love, and then[ce] thy trouble is more.

HERMIONE.

Father, if this be love: to lead a life in thrall, To think the rankest poison sweet, to feed on honey-gall; To be at war and peace, to be in joy and grief, Then farthest from the hope of help, where nearest is relief; To live and die, to freeze and sweat, to melt and not to move; If it be this to live in love, father, I am in love.

BOMELIO.

Why did you not possess your lady then at home?

HERMIONE.

At home! where is it, sir? alas! for I have none.

Brought up I know not how, and born I know not where, When I was in my childhood given unto my prince, then here, Of[100] whom I cannot tell, wherefore I little know.

But now cast out to seek my fate, unhappy where I go.

Then dare I not be seen; here must I not abide.

Did ever more calamities unto a man betide?

BOMELIO.

My heart will burst, if I forbear amidst this misery.

Behold, thy father thou hast found, my son Hermione!

Thy father thou hast found, thy father--I am he.

HERMIONE.

But is it possible my father you should be?

BOMELIO.

Even from my first exile here have I liv'd forlorn, And once I gave thee to my prince, for thou wast n.o.ble-born; And now he gives me thee, and welcome home again!

HERMIONE.

This is my recompense for all my former pain.

Dear father, glad I am to find you here alive: By your example I may learn with froward chance to strive.