JUSTINA. May heaven guard you many years,
Since in his more grave concernments,
Thus you honour my dear father
With your favours.

CYPRIAN. I shall ever
Be most gratified to serve you.
([Aside.] What disturbs me, what unnerves me?)

JUSTINA. He is not just now at home.

CYPRIAN. Thus then, lady, I can better
Tell you what is the true cause
That doth bring me here at present;
For the cause that you have heard
Is not that which wholly led me
Here to see you.

JUSTINA. Then, what is it?

CYPRIAN. This, which craves your brief attention.--
Fair Justina, beauty's shrine,*
To whose human loveliness
Nature, with a fond excess,
Adds such marks of the divine,
'Tis your rest that doth incline
Hither my desire to-day:
But see what the tyrant sway
Of despotic fate can do,--