318 THE POEMS OP ANNE �Blan. Tis I that ought to blush, poor, poor Marina. [Aside. Has she since nothing told of who she is, Or what induc'd her to assume this shape. �Month. Nothing, but only sais she is a wretch, 30 �And urges to be sent into a Convent, Which is deferr'd, in hopes of some discovery. �Blan. Oh ! gen'rous Maid, what does she not deserve ? I'll try to find her out, that we may meet, And weep att least, over our mutual sorrows. [Aside. �Where is she lodg'd, who has her now in charge? �Month. Cappriccio has dispos'd her neer this place, Her lodging joyns close to the Pallace wall, And has a door, that us'd to lett into itt. �Blan. No more of this, 40 �To Lauredan, what's happen'd since our quarrel. �Month. He's gone on board, and toss'd with such a storm, Tis thought he'll perish 'ere he leaves the Port. But certain 'tis, the Queen of Cyprus loves him. Her present fears, have told itt to her women, And they (as women use) to all the world. �Blan. This does not move me, as I should have thought, My guilt, has fill'd my mind, with so much horrour. [Aside. I will go rest upon my bed Monthaleon, This posture to my wound is most uneasy, 50 �And oh ! to my afflicted kinsman, say That I would dye, to sett his fame as clear As in th' all seeing eye of Heav'n, itt stands. �[Exeunt, he leaning on Month. [Enter Rivalto, Vilmarin and Linnian �Lin. To search our houses, for the state's lost jewels, I ne'r yett knew of any of them missing, They're so remarkable, 'twere vain to steal them. 'Tia but a trick To give us some disturbance, in revenge. ��� �
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