NURSE.
He bade me say to you, no lover ever
Gazed on the features of a plighted mistress
With such intense and yearning love as he
Will gaze upon this image.
ZORADA.
It looks with love on him; but woe is me!
He cannot know how dearly in my heart
His image is impress'd. I call to mind
His kind caresses in my infant years;
His noble form in warlike harness braced,
When he returning caught me to his heart,
And heard my simple welcome with delight,
Filling his eyes with tears. I well remember—
Dost thou not also, Nurse? the voice of fondness
With which, ev'n when I cross'd his graver mood,
He called me little Zada. O 't was sweet!
I thought so then; but now it haunts mine ear
Like portion of some broken melody,
Which mocking bird is so enamour'd of,
He will not learn the whole.—And say, good Nurse,
That I will surely see him ere he go,
If it be possible.[Exit Nurse.
(After a thoughtful pause.) "My little Zada! tush, my little fool!
I will not have thee for my playfellow,
If thou art so perverse."
