Part 20

_Sop._ You do not mock me, Sir.

_Lisi._ I am confident You think me not so lost to manners, in The knowledge of your person, to bring with me Such rudeness, I have nothing to present, But a heart full of wishes for your health, And what else may be added to your happiness.

_Sop._ I thought you had been sensible.

_Lisi._ How Madam?

_Sop._ A man of understanding, can you spend One prayer for me, remembring the dishonor I have done _Lisimachus_?

_Lisi._ Nothing can deface that part of my Religion in me, not to pray for you.

_Sop._ It is not then impossible you may Forgive me too, indeed I have a soul Is full of penitence, and something else, If blushing would allow to give't a name.

_Lisi._ What Madam?

_Sop._ Love, a love that should redeem My past offence, and make me white again.

_Lisi_. I hope no sadness can possess your thoughts For me, I am not worthy of this sorrow, But if you mean it any satisfaction For what your will hath made me suffer, 'tis But a strange overflow of Charity, To keep me still alive, be your self Madam, And let no cause of mine, be guilty of This rape upon your eyes, my name's not worth The least of all your tears.

_Sop._ You think 'em counterfeit.

_Lisi._ Although I may Suspect a Womans smile hereafter, yet I would believe their wet eyes, and if this Be what you promise, for my sake, I have But one reply.

_Sop._ I waite it.

_Lisi._ I have now Another Mistress.

_Sop._ Stay.

_Lisi._ To whom I have made Since your revolt from me, a new chaste vow, Which not the second malice of my fate Shall violate, and she deserves it, Madam, Even for that wherein you are excellent, Beauty, in which she shines equal to you Her vertue, if she but maintain what now She is Mistress of, beyond all competition, So rich it cannot know to be improv'd, At least in my esteem, I may offend, But truth shall justifie, I have not flatter'd her, I beg your pardon, and to leave, my duty Upon your hand, all that is good flow in you. [_Exit._

_Sop._ Did he not say, _Charilla_, that he had Another Mistress?

_Cha._ Such a sound, methought, Came from him.

_Sop._ Let's remove, here's too much ayre, The sad note multiplies.

_Cha._ Take courage, Madam, And my advice, he has another Mistress, If he have twenty, be you wise, and cross him With entertaining twice as many servants, And when he sees your humor he'll return. And sue for any Livery, grieve for this.

_Sop._ It must be she, 'tis _Polidora_ has Taken his heart, she live my rival, How does the thought inflame me!

_Cha. Polidora?_

_Sop._ And yet she does but justly, and he too; I would have rob'd her of _Arcadius_ heart, And they will both have this revenge on me, But something will rebel. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Demetrius, Philocles, Lisander.

_De._ The house is desolate, none comes forth to meet us, Shee's slow to entertain us: _Philocles,_ I prethee tell me, did she weare no cloud Upon her brow, was't freely that she said We should be welcome.

_Phi._ To my apprehension, Yet 'tis my wonder she appears not.

_Lisa._ She, nor any other, Sure there's some conceit To excuse it.

_Dem._ Stay, Who's this? observe what follows?

_Phi._ Fortune? some maske to entertain you, Sir.

_Enter Fortune crown'd, attended with Youth, Health, and Pleasure._

_For._ Not yet? What silence doth inhabit here? No preparation to bid Fortune welcome! Fortune, the genious of the World, have we Descended from our pride, and state to come, So far attended with our darlings, Youth, Pleasure, and Health, to be neglected thus? Sure this is not the place? call hither Fame.

_Enter_ Fame.

_Fa._ What would great Fortune?

_For._ Know, Who dwells here.

_Fa._ Once more I report great Queen, This is the house of Love.

_For._ It cannot be, This place has too much shade, and looks as if It had been quite forgotten of the Spring, And Sun-beames Love, affect society, And heat, here all is cold as the hairs of Winter, No harmony, to catch the busie eare Of passengers, no object of delight, To take the wandring eyes, no song, no grone Of Lovers, no complaint of Wil[l]ow garlands, Love has a Beacon upon his palace top, Of flaming hearts, to call the weary pilgrime To rest, and dwell with him, I see no fire To threaten, or to warme: Can Love dwell here?

_Fa._ If there be noble love upon the World, Trust Fame, and find it here.

_For._ Make good your boast, And bring him to us.

_De._ What does mean all this?

_Lisa._ I told you, Sir, we should have some device.

_Enter Love._

There's _Cupid_ now, that little Gentleman, Has troubled every Masque at Court this seven year.

_Dem._ No more.

_Love._ Welcome to Love, how much you honor me! It had become me, that, upon your summons, I should have waited upon mighty Fortune, But since you have vouchsafed to visit me; All the delights Love can invent, shall flow To entertain you, Musick through the ayre Shoot your inticing harmony.

_For._ We came to dance and revel with you.

_Lov._ I am poor In my ambition, and want thought to reach How much you honor Love. [_Dance._

_Enter_ Honor.

_Hon._ What intrusion's this? Whom do you seek here.

_Lov._ 'Tis honor.

_For._ He my servant.

_Lov._ Fortune is come to visit us.

_Hon._ And has Corrupted Love: Is this thy faith to her, On whom we both waite, to betray her thus To Fortunes triumph? take her giddy wheel, And be no more companion to honor; I blush to know thee, Who'll believe there can Be truth in Love hereafter?

_Lov._ I have found My eyes, and see my shame, and with it, this Proud sorceress, from whom, and all her charmes, I flye agen to Honor, be my guard, Without thee I am lost, and cannot boast, The merit of a name.

_For._ Despis'd? I shall Remember this affront.

_Dem._ What Moral's this? [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Honor _with the Crown upon a mourning Cushion_.

What melancholly object strikes a sudden Chillness through all my veines; and turns me Ice? It is the same I sent, the very same, As the first pledge of her insuing greatness: Why in this mourning livery, if she live To whom I sent it? ha, What shape of sorrow?

_Enter_ Polidora _in mourning_.

It is not _Polidora_, she was faire Enough, and wanted not the setting off With such a black: if thou beest _Polidora_, Why mournes my love? it neither does become Thy fortune, nor my joyes.

_Pol._ But it becomes My griefs, this habit fits a funeral, And it were sin, my Lord, not to lament A friend new dead.

_Dem._ And I yet living? can A sorrow enter but upon thy Garment, Or discomplexion thy attire, whilst I Enjoy a life for thee? Who can deserve, Weigh'd with thy living comforts, but a piece Of all this Ceremony? give him a name.

_Pol._ He was _Arcadius_.

_Dem._ _Arcadius?_

_Pol._ A Gentleman that lov'd me dearly once, And does compel these poor, and fruitless drops, Which willingly would fall upon his hearse, To imbalme him twice.

_Dem._ And are you sure hee's dead?

_Pol._ As sure as you'r living, Sir, and yet I did not close his eyes, but he is dead, And I shall never see the same _Arcadius_: He was a Man so rich in all that's good, At least I thought him so, so perfect in The rules of honor, whom alone to imitate Were glory in a Prince, Nature her self, Till his creation, wrought imperfectly, As she had made but tryal of the rest, To mould him excellent.

_Dem._ And is he dead? Come, shame him not with praises, recollect Thy scatter'd hopes, and let me tell my best, And dearest _Polidora_, that he lives, Still lives to honor thee.

_Pol._ Lives, Where?

_Dem._ Look here. Am not I worth your knowledge?

_Pol._ And my duty, You are _Demetrius_, King of _Epire_, Sir. I could not easily mistake him so, To whom I gave my heart.

_Dem._ Mine is not chang'd, But still hath fed upon thy memory, These honors, and additions of state Are lent me for thy sake, be not so strange, Let me not lose my entertainment, now I am improv'd, and rais'd unto the height, Beneath which, I did blush to ask thy love.

_Pol._ Give me your pardon, Sir, _Arcadius_, At our last meeting, without argument, To move him more than his affection to me, Vow'd he did love me; love me above all Women, And to confirm his heart, was truely mine, He wish'd, I tremble to remember it, When he forsook his _Polidora's_ love, That Heaven might kill his happiness on Earth: Was not this nobly said? did not this promise A truth to shame the Turtles?

_Dem._ And his heart Is still the same, and I thy constant Lover.

_Pol._ Give me your leave, I pray, I would not say, _Arcadius_ was perjur'd, but the same day Forgetting all his promises, and oathes, While yet they hung upon his lips, forsook me, D'ee not remember this too, gave his faith From me, transported with the noise of greatness, And would be married to a Kingdom.

_Dem._ But Heaven permitted not I should dispose What was ordain'd for thee.

_Pol._ It was not virtue In him, for sure he found no check, no sting In his own bosome, but gave freely all The reines to blind ambition.

_Dem._ I am wounded, The thought of thee ith' throng of all my joyes, Like poyson powr'd in Nectar, turnes me frantick: Dear, if _Arcadius_ have made a fault, Let not _Demetrius_ be punish'd for't, He pleads that ever will be constant to thee.

_Pol._ Shall I believe Mans flatteries agen, Lose my sweet rest, and peace of thought agen, Be drawn by you, from the streight paths of virtue, Into the maze of Love.

_Dem._ I see compassion in thy eye, that chides me, If I have either soul, but what's contain'd Within these words, or if one syllable Of their full force, be not made good by me, May all relenting thoughts in you take end, And thy disdain be doubled, from thy pardon, I'll count my Coronation; and that hour Fix with a rubrick in my Calendar, As an auspicious time, to entertain Affairs of weight with Princes; think who now Intreats thy mercy, come, thou sha't be kind, And divide Titles with me.

_Pol._ Hear me, Sir, I lov'd you once for virtue, and have not A thought so much unguarded, as to be won From my truth, and innocence with any Motives of state to affect you, Your bright temptation mourns while it stayes here; Nor can the triumph of glory, which made you Forget me, so court my opinion back, Were you no King, I should be sooner drawn Again to love you, but 'tis now too late, A low obedience shall become me best: May all the joyes I want Still wait on you, if time hereafter tell you, That sorrow for your fault hath struck me dead, May one soft tear drop from your eye, in pitty Bedew my hearse, and I shall sleep securely: I have but one word more for goodness sake, For your own honor, Sir, correct your passion, To her you shall love next, and I forgive you. [_Exit._

_Dem._ Her heart is frozen up, nor can warm prayers Thaw it to any softness.

_Phi._ I'll fetch her, Sir, again.

_Dem._ Perswade her not.

_Phi._ You give your passion too much leave to triumph. Seek in another what she denies.

_Enter_ Macarius.

_Mac._ Where's the King? oh, Sir, you are undone, A dangerous treason is a foot.

_Dem._ What Treason?

_Mac._ _Cassander_, and _Eubulus_ have proclaim'd Another King, whom they pretend to be _Leonatus_ your elder Brother, he that was, But this morning prisoner in the Castle.

_Dem._ Ha?

_Mac._ The easie _Epirotes_ Gather in multitudes to advance his Title, They have seised upon the Court, secure your person, Whilst we raise power to curbe this Insurrection.

_Ant._ Lose no time then.

_Dem._ We will not Arme one Man, Speak it agen, have I a brother living? And must be no King.

_Mac._ What means your Grace?

_Dem._ This newes doth speak me happy, it exalts My heart, and makes me capable of more Than twenty Kingdoms.

_Phi._ Will you not, Sir, stand Upon your guard?

_Dem._ I'll stand upon my honor, Mercy relieves me.

_Lisa._ Will you lose the Kingdom?

_Dem._ The World's too poor to bribe me: leave Me all, lest you extenuate my fame, and I Be thought to have redeem'd it by your counsel, You shall not share one scruple in the honor; Titles may set a gloss upon our Name, But Virtue onely is the soul of Fame.

_Mac._ He's strangely possest Gentlemen. [_Exeunt Omnes._

_Actus Quintus. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Philocles, _and_ Lisander.

_Phi._ Heres a strange turne, _Lisander_.

_Lisa._ 'Tis a Kingdom Easily purchas'd, who will trust the faith Of multitudes?

_Phi._ It was his fault, that would So tamely give his Title to their Mercy, The new King has possession.

_Lisa._ And is like To keep't, we are alone, what dost think of This innovation? Is't not a fine Jigge? A precious cunning in the late Protector To shuffle a new Prince into the state.

_Phi._ I know not how they have shuffled, but my head on't, A false card is turn'd up trump, but fates look to't.

_Enter_ Cassander _and_ Eubulus.

_Eub._ Does he not carry it bravely?

_Cos._ Excellently. _Philocles_, _Lisander_.

_Phi. Lis._ Your Lordships servants, Are we not bound to heaven, for multiplying These blessings on the Kingdom.

_Phi._ Heaven alone Works miracles, my Lord.

_Lisa._ I think your Lordship Had as little hope once to see these Princes Revive.

_Phi._ Here we must place our thanks, Next providence, for preserving So dear a pledge.

_Enter_ Leonatus _attended_.

_Eub._ The King.

_Leo._ It is our pleasure The number of our guard be doubled, give A Largess to the Soldiers; but dismiss not The Troops till we command.

_Cas._ May it please.

_Leo._ It will not please us otherwise, my Lord, We have try'd your faith.

_Eub._ Does he not speak with confidence?

_Leo._ My Lords and Gentlemen, to whose faith we must Owe next to Heaven our fortune, and our safety, After a tedious eclipse, the day Is bright, and we invested in those honors, Our bloud, and birth did challenge.

_Cas._ May no time Be registred in our annals, that shall mention One that had life to oppose your sacred person.

_Leo._ Let them, whose Titles forg'd and flaw'd, suspect Their states security, our right to _Epire_, Heaven is oblig'd to prosper, treason has No face so black to fright it, all my cares Level to this, that I may worthily Manage the province, and advance the honor Of our dear Countrey, and be confident, If an expence of bloud, may give addition Of any happiness to you, I shall Offer my heart the sacrifice, and rejoyce To make my self a ghost, to have inscrib'd Upon my marble, but whose cause I died for.

_Eub._ May Heaven avert such danger.

_Cas._ Excellent Prince, In whom we see the Copy of his Father, None but the Son of _Theodosius_, Could have spoke thus.

_Leo._ [You] are pleas'd to interpret well, Yet give me leave to say in my own justice, I have but exprest the promptness of my soul To serve you all, but 'tis not empty wishes Can satisfie our mighty charge, a weight Would make an _Atlas_ double, a Kings name Doth sound harmoniously to men at distance; And those who cannot penetrate beyond The bark, and out-skin of a Common-wealth, Or state, have eyes, but ravish'd with the Ceremony That must attend a Prince, and understand not What cares allay the glories of a Crown, But good Kings find and feel the contrary, You have try'd, my Lord, the burden, and can tell It would require a Pilot of more years To steer this Kingdom, now impos'd on me, By justice of my birth.

_Cas._ I wish not life, But to partake those happy days, which must Succeed these fair proceedings, we are blest, But Sir, be sparing to your self, we shall Hazard our joyes in you too soon, the burden Of state affairs, impose upon your counsel. 'Tis fitter that we waste our lives than you, Call age too soon upon you with the trouble, And cares that threaten such an undertaking, Preserve your youth.

_Leo._ And choose you our Prote[c]tor, Is't that you would conclude my Lord? We will Deserve our subjects faith for our own sake, Not sit an idle gazer at the helm.

_Enter Messenger._

_Phi._ How observ'd you that, Mark how _Cassander's_ Planet struck.

_Eu._ He might have look'd more calmly for all that, I begin to fear; but do not yet seem troubled.

_Leo._ With what news travels his haste? I must secure My self betimes, not be a King in jest, And wear my Crown a Tenant to their breath.

_Cas. Demetrius,_ Sir, your brother, With other Traitors that oppose your claims, Are fled to the Castle of _Nestorius_, And fortifie.

_Mes._ I said not so my Lord.

_Cas._ I'll have it thought so, hence. [_Exit Messen._

_Leo._ Plant forces to batter The walls, and in their ruin bring us wor[d] They live not.

_Eub._ Good Sir hear me.

_Cas._ Let it work, Were _Demetrius_ dead, we easily might uncrown This swoln Impostor, and my Son be fair To piece with young _Sophia_, who I hear Repents her late affront.

_Eub._ Their lives may do You service, let not blood stain your beginnings The people not yet warm in their allegeance, May think it worth their tumult to revenge it With hazard of your self.

_Leo._ Who dares but think it? Yet offer first our mercy, if they yield, _Demetrius_ must not live, my Lord your counsel, What if he were in heaven?

_Cas._ You have my consent, You sha'not stay long after him.

_Leo._ _Sophia_ is Not my Sister, To prevent all that may indanger us, we'll marry her; That done, no matter though we stand discover'd, For in her Title then we are King of _Epire,_ Without dispute.

_Cas._ Hum; in my judgement, Sir, That wonot do so well.

_Leo._ What's your opinion?

_Cas._ He countermines my plot: are you so cunning.

_Leo._ What's that you mutter; Sir?

_Cas._ I mutter, Sir?

_Leo._ Best say I am no King, but some impostor Rais'd up to gull the state.

_Cas._ Very fine to have said within Few hours you'd been no King, nor like to be, Was not in the compass of High Treason I take it.

_Eub._ Restrein your anger, the Kings mov'd, speak not.

_Cas._ I will speak louder, do I not know him? That self-same hand that rais'd him to the throne Shall pluck him from it, is this my reward?

_Leo._ Our guard, to prison with him.

_Cas._ Me to prison?

_Leo._ Off with his head.

_Cas._ My head?

_Eub._ Vouchsafe to hear me, great Sir.

_Cas._ How dares he be so insolent? I ha' wrought my self into a fine condition, Do'e know me Gentlemen?

_Phi._ Very well my Lord; How are we bound to heaven for multiplying These blessings on the Kingdom.

_Leo._ We allow it.

_Eub._ Counsel did never blast a Princes ear.

_Leo._ Convey him to the sanctuary of Rebels, _Nestorius_ house, where our proud brother has Enscons'd himself, they'll entertain him lovingly, He will be a good addition to the Traitors, Obey me, or you dye for't, what are Kings When subjects dare affront 'em?

_Cas._ I shall vex Thy soul for this.

_Leo._ Away with him: when Kings Frown, let offenders tremble, this flows not From any cruelty in my nature, but The fate of an Usurper: he that will Be confirm'd great without just title to't, Must lose compassion, know what's good, not do't. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Polidora _and her servant_.

_Serv._ Madam, the Princess _Sophia_.

_Pol._ I attend her Highness.

_Enter_ Sophia.

How much your grace honors your humble servant.

_Sop._ I hope my brother's well.

_Pol._ I hope so too, Madam.

_Sop._ Do you but hope? he came to be your guest.

_Pol._ We are all his, whilst he is pleas'd to honor This poor roof with his royal presence, Madam.

_Sop._ I came to ask your pardon _Polidora_.

_Pol._ You never, Madam, trespass'd upon me, Wrong not your goodness.

_Sop._ I can be but penitent, Unless you point me out some other way To satisfie.

_Pol._ Dear Madam, do not mock me.

_Sop._ There [is] no injury like that to love, I find it now in my own sufferings: But though I would have rob'd thee of _Arcadius_ Heaven knew a way to reconcile your hearts, And punish[d] me in those joys you have found: I read the story of my loss of honor, Yet can rejoyce, and heartily, that you Have met your own agen.

_Pol._ Whom do you mean?

_Sop._ My brother.

_Pol._ He is found to himself and honor, He is my King, and though I must acknowledge He was the glory of my thoughts, and I Lov'd him, as you did, Madam, with desire To be made his, reason, and duty since, Form'd me to other knowledge, and I now Look on him without any wish of more Than to be call'd his subject.

_Sop._ Has he made Himself less capable by being King?

_Pol._ Of what?

_Sop._ Of your affection.

_Pol._ With your pardon, Madam. Love in that sense you mean, left _Polidora_ When he forsook _Arcadius_, I disclaim All ties between us, more than what a name Of King must challenge from my obedience.

_Sop._ This does confirm my jealousie, my heart, For my sake, Madam, has he lost his value?

_Pol._ Let me beseech your grace, I may have leave To answer in some other cause, or person: This argument but opens a sad wound To make it bleed afresh; we may change this Discourse: I would elect some subject, whose Praises may more delight your ear than this Can mine; let's talk of young _Lisimachus_.

_Sop._ Ha? my presaging fears.

_Pol._ How does your grace?

_Sop._ Well, you were talking of _Lisimachus_, Pray give me your opinion of him.

_Pol._ Mine? It will be much short of his worth: I think him A gentleman so perfect in all goodness, That if there be one in the world deserves The best of women, heaven created him, To make her happy.

_Sop._ You have, in a little, Madam, Exprest a volume of mankind, a miracle; But all have not the same degree of faith, He is but young.

_Pol._ What Mistriss would desire Her servant old? he has both Spring to please Her eye and Summer to return a harvest.

_Sop._ He is black.

_P[o]l._ He sets a beauty off more rich, And she that's fair will love him; faint complexions Betray effeminate minds, and love of change: Two beauties in a bed, compound few men; He's not so fair to counterfeit a woman, Nor yet so black, but blushes may betray His modesty.

_Sop._ His proportion exceeds not.

_Pol._ That praises him, and a well compacted frame Speaks temper, and sweet flow of elements: Vast buildings are more oft for shew than use: I would not have my eyes put to the travel Of many acres, e'r I could examine A man from head to foot; he has no great, But he may boast, an elegant composition.

_Sop._ I'll hear no more, you have so far out-done My injuries to you, that I call back My penitence, and must tell _Polidora_, This revenge ill becomes her. Am I thought So lost in soul to hear, and forgive this? In what shade do I live? or shall I think I have not, at the lowest, enough merit, Setting aside my birth, to poize with yours: Forgive my modest thoughts, if I rise up In my own defence, and tell this unjust Lady So great a winter hath not frozen yet My cheek, but there [is] something nature planted, That carries as much bloom, and spring upon't, As yours. What flame is in your eye, but may Find competition here? (forgive agen My Virgin honor,) what is in your lip To tice the enamour'd soul, to dwell with more Ambition, than the yet unwither'd blush That speaks the innocence of mine?

_Enter_ Demetrius.

Oh brother?