Scena Sexta.
Enter Abbesse, Cellide, and Nuns.
Ab.
COme, to your Mattins Maids: these early houres
My gentle daughter, will disturb a while,
Your faire eyes, nurterd in ease.
Cel.
No vertuous mother,
Tis for my holy health, to purchase which
They shall forget the childe of ease, soft slumbers,
O my afflicted heart, how thou art tortur'd,
And Love, how like a tyrant, thou raign'st in me,
Commanding and forbidding at one instant:
Why came I hither that desire to have
Onely all liberty, to make me happy?
Why didst thou bring that yong man home, O Ʋalentine,
That vertuous youth, why didst thou speake his goodnesse
In such a phrase, as if all tongues, all praises
Were made for him? O fond and ignorant,
Why didst thou foster my affection
Till it grew up, to know no other father,
And then betray it?
Ab.
Can ye sing?
Cel.
Yes, Mother,
My sorrowes onely.
Ab.
Be gone, and to the Quire then.
Exeunt.
Musicke singing.