bribe but hee's prevented.

[_Exeunt Officers_.

_Enter Bellizarius in his night-gown, with Epidophorus_.

_Epi_. My Lord, your Lady and her most beauteous daughter
Are come to visit you, and here attend.

_Belliz_. My Wife and Daughter? oh welcome, love,
And blessing Crowne thee, my beloved _Bellina_.

_Vict_. My Lord, pray leave us.

_Epi_. Your will be your owne Law.
[_Exit Epidoph_.

_Vict_. Why study you, my Lord? why is your eye fixt
On your _Bellina_ more than on me?

_Belliz_. Good, excellent good:
What pretty showes our fancies represent us!
My faire _Bellina_ shines like to an Angel;
Has such a brightnesse in her Christall eyes
That even the radiancy duls my sight.
See, my _Victoria_, lookes she not sweetly?

_Vict_. Shee does, my Lord; but not much better than she was wont.

_Belliz_. Oh shee but beginnes to shine as yet,
But will I hope ere long be stellified.
Alas, my _Victoria_, thou look'st nothing like her.

_Vict_. Not like her? why, my Lord?

_Belliz_. Marke and Ile tell thee how:
Thou art too much o'er growne with sinne and shame,
Hast pray'd too much, offered too much devotion
To him and those that can nor helpe nor hurt,
Which my _Bellina_ has not:
Her yeares in sinne are not, as thine are, old;
Therefore me thinks she's fairer farre than thou.

_Vict_. I, my Lord, guided by you and by your precepts,
Have often cal'd on _Iupiter_.

_Belliz_. I, there's the poynt:
My sinnes like Pullies still drew me downewards:
'Twas I that taught thee first to Idolize,
And unlesse that I can with-draw thy mind
From following that I did with tears intreat,
I'me lost, for ever lost, lost in my selfe and thee.
Oh, my _Bellina_!

_Bellina_. Why, Sir!
Shall we not call on _Iove_ that gives us food,
By whom we see the heavens have all their Motions?

_Belliz_. Shee's almost lost too: alas! my Girle,
There is a higher _Iove_ that rules 'bove him.
Sit, my _Victoria_, sit, my faire _Bellina_,
And with attention hearken to my dreame:
Methought one evening, sitting on a fragrant Virge,
Close by there ranne a silver gliding streame:
I past the Rivolet and came to a Garden,
A Paradise, I should say (for lesse it could not be);
Such sweetnesse the world contains not as I saw;
_Indian Aramaticks_ nor _Arabian_ Gummes
Were nothing sented unto this sweet bower.
I gaz'd about, and there me thought I saw
Conquerors and Capti