Julia. He calls Roselo and myself his children.
(Some lines wanting here.)
He watch'd our growing love from earliest bud;
True he is learned in every herb that springs,
And every subtle distillation, too, he knows;
Should this be weak, and should its charm
Lead me to love the Count, and so Roselo harm?
Celia. To think thus, lady, is but witless wit.
He knows thy wedded hopes are new,
And ere he dare counsel thou shouldst wed again,
Would have written by my hand;
No, as rare remedy for this hapless ill,
He sends this sweet confection still.
Julia. Thou speakest wisely—say no more.
All evil when the body dies doth cease;
I drink the draught; Celia, farewell!
I die Roselo's own true wife; this truly tell!
Celia. 'Twill be but slumber, lady, soon we'll smile;
'Tis but to give thee strength to slay
Such sad and luckless misery.
Julia. Hah! the confection works through all my veins;
My quaking flesh doth creep, my very soul
Seems torn from out its earthly home!
Oh Heavens! some poison Aurelio hath distilled?
Hast given me the potion that he sent?
Celia. That, lady, only which Aurelio did command.
Julia. Methinks some sad deceit, and he
Hath changed the draught, the fluid works
Upon my bursting heart as rankest poison might.
Celia. Didst drink it all, sweet child?
Julia. Each drugged drop, unto the last.
Celia. What feel you now?
L
