Yet not of silence

prove

themselves enamoured.

But mark you this, Cecile: your grave and wise
And melancholy men, if they have souls,
As commonly they have, susceptible
Of all impressions, lavish most their love
Upon the blithe and sportive, and on such
As yield their want, and chase their sad excess
With jocund salutations, nimble talk,

And buoyant bearing. Would that I were merry!
Mirth have I valued not before; but now
What would I give to be the laughing fount
Of gay imaginations ever bright,

And sparkling fantasies! Oh, all I have,
Which is not nothing, though I prize it not,
My understanding soul, my brooding sense,
My passionate fancy, and the gift of gifts
Dearest to woman, which deflowering Time,
Slow ravisher, from clenched'st fingers wrings-
My corporal beauty, would I barter now
For such an antick and exulting spirit

As lives in lively women. Who comes hither?

CECILE.

'Tis the old friar; he they sent to England;

That ancient man so yellow!

By our Lady!

He's yellower than he went.

Note but his look;

His rind's the colour of a mouldy walnut.
Troth! his complexion is no wholesomer

FATHER JOHN.

This tent is his?

ELENA.

It is.

FATHER JOHN.

And likewise yours.-(Aside.) Yea, this is as I heard ;

A wily woman hither sent from France.

Alas! alas! how frail the state of man!

How weak the strongest ! This is such a fall

As Sampson suffered.

CECILE (aside to ELENA).

How the friar croaks!

What is he gibbering?

ELENA.

May we not deem

Your swift return auspicious? Sure it denotes

A prosperous mission?

FATHER JOHN.

What I see and hear

Of sinful courses, and of nets and snares

Encompassing the feet of them that once

Were steadfast deemed, speaks only to my heart
Of coming judgments.

That Father John is come? Ah here he is.

Give me your hand, good Father! For your news,
Philosophy befriend me that I show

No strange impatience; for your every word

Must touch me in the quick.

FATHER JOHN.

FATHER JOHN.

My lord,

Such councillors I abjure. My function speaks,
And through me speaks the Master whom I serve:
After strange women them that went astray
God never prospered in the olden time,

Nor will he bless them now. An angry eye
That sleeps not, follows thee till from thy camp

Thou shalt have put away the evil thing.

This in her presence will I

say

ELENA.

Oh God!

FATHER JOHN.

That whilst a foreign leman

ARTEVELDE.

Spare her, Father.

To me say what thou wilt.

FATHER JOHN.

Thus then it is:

This foreign tie is not to Heaven alone

Displeasing, but to those on whose firm faith

Rests under Heaven your all ;

It is offensive to your army-nay