_Amid_. Where is the lady Julia?

_Hip_. What new treason
Against my master's love have you contrived
With her?

_Amid_. I shall not render you account.

_Enter JULIA_.

_Jul_. I sent for him; yet if he comes, there's danger;
Yet if he does not, I for ever lose him.
What can I wish? and yet I wish him here,
Only to take the care of me from me.
Weary with sitting out a losing hand,
Twill be some ease to see another play it.
Yesterday I refused to marry him,
To-day I run into his arms unasked;
Like a mild prince encroached upon by rebels,
Love yielded much, till honour asked for all.
How now, where's Roderick? [_Sees AMIDEO_.
I mean Gonsalvo. [_Sees HIPPOLITO_.

_Hip_. You would do well to meet him--

_Amid_. Meet him! you shall not do't: I'll throw myself,
Like a young fawning spaniel, in your way
So often, you shall never move a step,
But you shall tread on me.

_Jul_. You need not beg me:
I would as soon meet a syren, as see him.

_Hip_. His sweetness for those frowns no subject finds:
Seas are the field of combat for the winds:
But when they sweep along some flowery coast,
Their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.

_Jul_. 'Tis that which makes me more unfortunate;
Because his sweetness must upbraid my hate.
The wounds of fortune touch me not so near;
I can my fate, but not his virtue, bear.
For my disdain with my esteem is raised;
He most is hated when he most is praised:
Such an esteem, as like a storm appears,
Which rises but to shipwreck what it bears.

_Hip_. Infection dwells upon my kindness, sure,
Since it destroys even those whom it would cure.

[_Cries, and exit_.

_Amid_. Still weep, Hippolito; to me thy tears
Are sovereign, as those drops the balm-tree sweats.--
But, madam, are you sure you shall not love him?
I still fear.--

_Jul_. Thy fear will never let thee be a man.

_Amid_. Indeed I think it won't.

_Jul_. We are now
Alone; what news from Roderick?

_Amid_. Madam, he begs you not to fear; he has
A way, which, when you think all desperate,
Will set you free.

_Jul_. If not, I will not live
A moment after it.

_Amid_. Why? there's some comfort.

_Jul_. I strongly wish, for what I faintly hope:
Like the day-dreams of melancholy men,
I think and think on things impossible,
Yet love to wander in that golden maze.

_Enter DON MANUEL, HIPPOLITO, and company_.

_Amid_. Madam, your brother's here.

_Man_. Where is the bridegroom?

_Hip_. Not yet returned