Chapter 52

_Enter_ Aminta _as passing over the Stage, is stayed by_ Olinda.

_Oli_. Why so hasty, _Aminta_?

_Am_. The time requires it, _Olinda_.

_Oli_. But I have an humble suit to you.

_Am_. You shall command me any thing.

_Oli_. Pray Heaven you keep your word.

_Am_. That sad tone of thine, _Olinda_, has almost Made me repent of my promise; but come, what is’t?

_Oli_. My Brother, Madam.

_Am_. Now fie upon thee, is that all thy business? [_Offers to go off_.

_Oli_. Stay, Madam, he dies for you.

_Am_. He cannot do’t for any Woman living; But well--it seems he speaks of Love to you; To me he does appear a very Statue.

_Oli_. He nought but sighs and calls upon your name, And vows you are the cruell’st Maid that breathes.

_Am_. Thou can’st not be in earnest sure.

_Oli_. I’ll swear I am, and so is he.

_Am_. Nay, thou hast a hard task on’t, to make Vows to all the Women he makes love to; Indeed I pity thee; ha, ha, ha.

_Oli_. You should not laugh at those you have undone.

Aminta _sings_.

_Hang Love, for I will never pine For any Man alive; Nor shall this jolly Heart of mine The thoughts of it receive; I will not purchase Slavery At such a dangerous rate; But glory in my Liberty, And laugh at Love and Fate_.

_Oli_. You’ll kill him by this cruelty.

_Am_. What is’t thou call’st so? For I have hitherto given no denials, Nor has he given me cause; I have seen him wildly gaze upon me often, And sometimes blush and smile, but seldom that; And now and then found fault with my replies, And wonder’d where the Devil lay that wit, Which he believ’d no Judge of it could find.

_Oli_. Faith, Madam, that’s his way of making love.

_Am_. It will not take with me, I love a Man Can kneel, and swear, and cry, and look submiss, As if he meant indeed to die my Slave: Thy Brother looks--but too much like a Conqueror. [_Sighs_.

_Oli_. How, _Aminta_, can you sigh in earnest?

_Am_. Yes, _Olinda_, and you shall know its meaning; I love _Alcander_, and am not asham’d o’th’ secret, But prithee do not tell him what I say. --Oh, he’s a man made up of those Perfections, Which I have often lik’d in several men; And wish’d united to compleat some one, Whom I might have the glory to o’ercome. --His Mein and Person, but ‘bove all his Humour, That surly Pride, though even to me addrest, Does strangely well become him.

_Oli_. May I believe this?

_Am_. Not if you mean to speak on’t, But I shall soon enough betray my self.

_Enter_ Falatius _with a patch or two on his Face_.

_Falatius_, welcome from the Wars; I’m glad to see y’ave scap’d the dangers of them.

_Fal_. Not so well scap’d neither, Madam, but I Have left still a few testimonies of their Severity to me. [_Points to his face_.

_Oli_. That’s not so well, believe me.

_Fal_. Nor so ill, since they be such as render us No less acceptable to your fair Eyes, Madam! But had you seen me when I gain’d them, Ladies, In that heroick posture.

_Am_. What posture?

_Fal_. In that of fighting, Madam; You would have call’d to mind that antient story Of the stout Giants that wag’d War with Heaven; Just so I fought, and for as glorious prize, Your excellent Ladiship.

_Am_. For me, was it for me you ran this hazard then?

_Fal_. Madam, I hope you do not question that, Was it not all the faults you found with me, The reputation of my want of Courage, A thousand Furies are not like a Battle; And but for you, By _Jove_, I would not fight it o’er again For all the glory on’t; and now do you doubt me? Madam, your heart is strangely fortified That can resist th’efforts I have made against it, And bring to boot such marks of valour too.

_Enter to them_ Alcander, _who seeing them would turn back, but_ Olinda _stays him_.

_Oli_. Brother, come back.

_Fal_. Advance, advance, what, Man, afraid of me?

_Alcan_. How can she hold discourse with that Fantastick. [_Aside_.

_Fal_. Come forward, and be complaisant. [_Pulls him again_.

_Alcan_. That’s most proper for your Wit, _Falatius_.

_Am_. Why so angry?

_Alcan_. Away, thou art deceiv’d.

_Am_. You’ve lost your sleep, which puts you out of humour.

_Alcan_. He’s damn’d will lose a moment on’t for you.

_Am_. Who is’t that has displeas’d you?

_Alcan_. You have, and took my whole repose away, And more than that, which you ne’er can restore; I can do nothing as I did before. When I would sleep, I cannot do’t for you, My Eyes and Fancy do that form pursue; And when I sleep, you revel in my Dreams, And all my Life is nothing but extremes. When I would tell my love, I seem most rude, For that informs me how I am subdu’d. Gods, you’re unjust to tyrannize o’er me, When thousands fitter for’t than I go free. [_Ex_.

_Fal_. Why, what the Devil has possest _Alcander_?

_Oli_. How like you this, _Aminta_?

_Am_. Better and better, he’s a wondrous man.

[_Exeunt_ Am. _and_ Oli.

_Fal_. ‘Tis the most unjanty humour that ever I saw; Ay, ay, he is my Rival, No marvel an he look’d so big upon me; He is damnable valiant, and as jealous as He is valiant; how shall I behave my Self to him, and these too idle humours of his I cannot yet determine; the comfort is, He knows I am a Coward whatever face I set upon it. Well, I must either resolve never to provoke His Jealousy, or be able to rencounter his Other fury, his Valour; that were a good Resolve if I be not past all hope.

[_Ex_.