Chapter 34

Enter _Frederick_, and _Cloris_ finely dress’d.

_Fred._ ‘Tis much methinks, a Boy of so dejected, Humble Birth, should have so much of Sense And Soul about him.

_Clo._ I know not that; but if I have a thought Above that humble Birth or Education, It was inspir’d by Love.

_Fred._ Still you raise my Wonder greater; --Thou a Lover?

_Clo._ Yes, my Lord, though I am young, I’ve felt the power of Beauty; And should you look upon the Object, Sir, Your Wonders soon would cease; Each Look does even animate Insensibles, And strikes a reverend Awe upon the Soul: Nothing is found so lovely.

_Fred._ Thou speak’st prettily, I think Love Indeed has inspir’d thee.

_Clo._ These were the Flatteries, Sir, she us’d to me; Of her it was I learn’d to speak, and sigh, And look, as oft you say, I do on you.

_Fred._ Why then, it seems she made returns?

_Clo._ Ah! Sir, ‘twas I that first was blest, I first the happy Object was belov’d; For, ‘twas a Person, Sir, so much above me,-- It had been Sin to’ve rais’d my Eyes to her; Or by a glance, or sigh, betray my Pain. But Oh! when with a thousand soft Expressions, She did encourage me to speak of Love! --My God! how soon extravagant I grew, And told so oft the story of my Passion, That she grew weary of the repeated Tale, And punish’d my presumption with a strange neglect. [Weeps.

_Fred._ How, my good _Philibert_?

_Clo._ Would suffer me to see her Face no more.

_Fred._ That was pity; without a Fault?

_Clo._ Alas, Sir, I was guilty of no Crime, But that of having told her how I lov’d her; For all I had I sacrific’d to her; --Poor worthless Treasures to any but a Lover; And such you know accept the meanest things, Which Love and a true Devotion do present. When she was present, I found a thousand ways To let her know how much I was her Slave; And absent, still invented new ones, And quite neglected all my little Business; Counting the tedious Moments of the Day By Sighs and Tears; thought it an Age to night, Whose Darkness might secure our happy meeting: But we shall meet no more on these kind Terms. [Sighs.

_Fred._ Come, do not weep, sweet Youth, thou art too young, To have thy blooming Cheeks blasted with sorrow; Thou wilt out-grow this childish Inclination, And shalt see Beauties here, whose every glance Kindle new Fires, and quite expel the old.

_Clo._ Oh, never, Sir.

_Fred._ When I was first in love, I thought so too, But now with equal ardour I doat upon each new and beauteous Object.

_Clo._ And quite forget the old?

_Fred._ Not so; but when I see them o’er again, I find I love them as I did before.

_Clo._ Oh God forbid, I should be so inconstant! No, Sir, though she be false, she has my Heart, And I can die, but not redeem the Victim.

_Fred._ Away, you little Fool, you make me sad By this resolve: but I’ll instruct you better.

_Clo._ I would not make you sad for all the World. Sir, I will sing, or dance, do any thing That may divert you.

_Fred._ I thank thee, _Philibert_, and will accept Thy Bounty; perhaps it may allay thy Griefs awhile too.

_Clo._ I’ll call the Musick, Sir. [She goes out.

_Fred._ This Boy has strange agreements in him.

Enter _Cloris_ with Musick.

_She bids them play, and dances a Jig._

This was wondrous kind, my pretty _Philibert_.

[Exeunt Musick.

Enter _Page_.

_Page_. _Lorenzo_, my Lord, begs admittance.

_Fred._ He may come in. [Exit _Page_.

Enter _Lorenzo_.

--Well, _Lorenzo_, what’s the News with thee? --How goes the price of Beauty, hah?

_Lor._ My Lord, that question is _a propos_ to What I have to say; this Paper will answer your Question, Sir-- [Gives him a Paper, he reads. --Hah, I vow to gad a lovely Youth; [_Lor._ gazes on _Phil._ But what makes he here with _Frederick_? This Stripling may chance to mar my market of Women now-- ‘Tis a fine Lad, how plump and white he is; [Aside. Would I could meet him somewhere i’th’ dark, I’d have a fling at him, and try whether I Were right _Florentine_.

_Fred._ Well, Sir, where be these Beauties?

_Lor._ I’ll conduct you to them.

_Fred._ What’s the Fellow that brings them?

_Lor._ A _Grecian_, I think, or something.

_Fred._ Beauties from _Greece_, Man!

_Lor._ Why, let them be from the Devil, So they be new and fine, what need we care? --But you must go to night.

_Fred._ I am not in a very good condition To make Visits of that kind.

_Lor._ However, see them, and if you like them, You may oblige the Fellow to a longer stay, For I know they are handsome.

_Fred._ That’s the only thing thou art judge of; --Well, go you and prepare them; And _Philibert_, thou shalt along with me; I’ll have thy Judgment too.

_Clo._ Good Heaven, how false he is! [Aside.

_Lor._ What time will your Highness come?

_Fred._ Two Hours hence. [Ex. _Fred._

_Lor._ So then I shall have time to have a bout With this jilting Huswife _Isabella_, For my Fingers itch to be at her. [Aside. [Ex. _Lorenzo_.

_Clo._ Not know me yet? cannot this Face inform him? My Sighs, nor Eyes, my Accent, nor my Tale? Had he one thought of me, he must have found me out. --Yes, yes, ‘tis certain I am miserable; He’s going now to see some fresher Beauties, And I, he says, must be a witness of it; This gives me Wounds, painful as those of Love: Some Women now would find a thousand Plots From so much Grief as I have, but I’m dull; Yet I’ll to _Laura_, and advise with her, Where I will tell her such a heavy Tale, As shall oblige her to a kind concern: --This may do; I’ll tell her of this Thought, This is the first of Art I ever thought on; And if this proves a fruitless Remedy, The next, I need not study, how to die.

[Exeunt.