SCENE II.--_The Queen's apartments_.

_Enter Queen and_ ASTERIA.

_Queen_. No more news yet from Philocles?

_Ast_. None, madam, since Flavia's return.

_Queen_. O, my Asteria! if you loved me, sure You would say something to me of my Philocles! I could speak ever of him.

_Ast_. Madam, you commanded me no more to name him to you.

_Queen_. Then I command you now, speak of nothing else:-- I charge you here, on your allegiance, tell me What I should do with him?

_Ast_. When you gave orders that he should be taken, You seemed resolved how to dispose of him.

_Queen_. Dull Asteria! not to know, Mad people never think the same thing twice!-- Alas! I'm hurried restless up and down:-- I was in anger once, and then I thought I had put into shore: But now a gust of love blows hard against me, And bears me off again.

_Ast_. Shall I sing the song, you made of Philocles, And called it _Secret Love_?

_Queen_. Do; for that's all kindness. And while thou singest it, I can think nothing but what pleases me.

SONG.

_I feed a flame within, which so torments me, That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me: 'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love if, That I had rather die, than once remove it.

Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it. Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses, But they fall silently, like dew on roses.

Thus, to prevent my love from being cruel, My heart's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel: And while I suffer this to give him quiet, My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.

On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me; While I conceal my love no frown can fright me: To be more happy, I dare not aspire; Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher_.

_Queen_. Peace!--Methinks I hear the noise Of clashing swords, and clattering arms below.

_Enter_ FLAVIA.

Now; what news, that you press in so rudely?

_Fla_. Madam, the worst that can be:-- Your guards upon the sudden are surprised, Disarmed; some slain; all scattered.

_Queen_. By whom?

_Fla_. Prince Lysimantes, and Lord Philocles.

_Queen_. It cannot be; Philocles is a prisoner.

_Fla_. What my eyes saw,--

_Queen_. Pull them out; they are false spectacles.

_Ast_. O, virtue! impotent and blind as fortune! Who would be good, or pious, if this queen, Thy great example, suffers!

_Queen_. Peace, Asteria! accuse not virtue; She has but given me a great occasion Of showing what I am, when fortune leaves me.

_Ast_. Philocles to do this!

_Queen_. Ay, Philocles!--I must confess 'twas hard!-- But there's a fate in kindness, Still to be least returned, where most 'tis given.-- Where's Candiope?

_Fla_. Philocles was whispering to her.

_Queen_. Hence, screech-owl!--Call my guards quickly there!-- Put them apart in several prisons!-- Alas! I had forgot, I have no guards, But those which are my jailors. Never 'till now unhappy queen! The use of power, till lost, is seldom known; Now, I should strike, I find my thunder gone. [_Exeunt Queen and_ FLAV.

PHILOCLES _enters, and meets_ ASTERIA _going out_.

_Phil_. Asteria, where's the queen?

_Ast_. Ah, my lord! what have you done? I came to seek you.

_Phil_. Is it from her you come?

_Ast_. No; but on her behalf:--Her heart's too great, In this low ebb of fortune, to entreat.

_Phil_. Tis but a short eclipse, Which past, a glorious day will soon ensue.-- But I would ask a favour too from you.

_Ast_. When conquerors petition, they command: Those, that can captive queens, who can withstand?

_Phil_. She, with her happiness, might mine create; Yet seems indulgent to her own ill fate: But she in secret hates me, sure; for why, If not, should she Candiope deny?

_Ast_. If you dare trust my knowledge of her mind, She has no thoughts of you that are unkind.

_Phil_. I could my sorrows with some patience bear, Did they proceed from any one but her: But from the queen! whose person I adore, By duty much, by inclination more.

_Ast_. He is inclined already; did he know, That she loved him, how would his passion grow! [_Aside_.

_Phil_. That her fair hand with destiny combines! Fate ne'er strikes deep, but when unkindness joins: For, to confess the secret of my mind, Something so tender for the queen I find, That even Candiope can scarce remove, And, were she lower, I should call it love.

_Ast_. She charged me, not this secret to betray; But I best serve her, if I disobey. For, if he loves, 'twas for her interest done; If not, he'll keep it secret for his own. [_Aside._

_Phil_. Why are you in obliging me so slow?

_Ast_. The thing's of great importance, you would know; And you must first swear secresy to all.

_Phil_. I swear.

_Ast_. Yet hold; your oath's too general: Swear that Candiope shall never know.

_Phil_. I swear.

_Ast_. No; not the queen herself.

_Phil_. I vow.

_Ast_. You wonder why I am so cautious grown, In telling what concerns yourself alone: But spare my vow, and guess what it may be, That makes the queen deny Candiope: 'Tis neither heat, nor pride, that moves her mind; Methinks the riddle is not hard to find.

_Phil_. You seem so great a wonder to intend, As were, in me, a crime to apprehend.

_Ast_. 'Tis not a crime to know; but would be one, To prove ungrateful when your duty's known.

_Phil_. Why would you thus my easy faith abuse: I cannot think the queen so ill would chuse. But stay, now your imposture will appear; She has herself confessed she loved elsewhere: On some ignoble choice has placed her heart, One, who wants quality, and more, desert.

_Ast_. This, though unjust, you have most right to say; For, if you'll rail against yourself, you may.

_Phil_. Dull that I was! A thousand things now crowd my memory. That make me know it could be none but I. Her rage was love; and its tempestuous flame, Like lightning, showed the heaven from whence it came. But in her kindness my own shame I see; Have I dethroned her, then for loving me? I hate myself for that which I have done, Much more, discovered, than I did unknown. How does she brook her strange imprisonment?

_Ast_. As great souls should, that make their own content. The hardest term, she for your act could find, Was only this, O Philocles, unkind! Then, setting free a sigh, from her fair eyes She wiped two pearls, the remnant of wild showers, Which hung like drops upon the bells of flowers: And thanked the heavens, Which better did, what she designed, pursue, Without her crime, to give her power to you.

_Phil_. Hold, hold! you set my thoughts so near a crown, They mount above my reach, to pull them down: Here constancy, ambition there does move; On each side beauty, and on both sides love.

_Ast_. Methinks the least you can, is to receive This love with reverence, and your former leave.

_Phil_. Think but what difficulties come between!

_Ast_. 'Tis wondrous difficult to love a queen.

_Phil_. For pity, cease more reasons to provide, I am but too much yielding to your side; And, were my heart but at my own dispose, I should not make a scruple now to chuse.

_Ast_. Then if the queen will my advice approve, Her hatred to you shall expel her love.

_Phil_. Not to be loved by her as hard would be, As to be hated by Candiope.

_Ast_. I leave you to resolve while you have time; You must be guilty, but may chuse your crime. [_Exit_ ASTERIA.

_Phil_. One thing I have resolved; and that I'll do, Both for my love, and for my honour too; But then (ingratitude and falsehood weighed), I know not which would most my soul upbraid. Fate shoves me headlong down a rugged way; Unsafe to run, and yet too steep to stay. [_Exit_ PHIL.