University of Virginia Library

SCENE 2.

A GARDEN.
Enter Lucina, Ardelia and Phorba.
Ard.
You still insist upon that Idol Honour,
Can it renew your Youth? Can it add VVealth?
Or take-off wrinkles? Can it draw mens Eyes
To gaze upon you in your Age? Can Honour
That truly is a Saint to none but Souldiers,
And lookt into, bears no Reward but Danger,
Leave you the most respected VVoman living?
Or can the common Kisses of a Husband
(VVhich to a Sprightly Lady is a Labour)
Make you almost immortal? You are cozen'd,
The Honour of a VVoman is her Praises,
The way to get these, to be seen and sought to,
And not to bury such a happy Sweetness
Under a smoaking Roof.

Lucina.
I'l hear no more.

Phorb.
That VVhite and Red, and all that blooming Beauty,
Kept from the Eyes that make it so is nothing:
Then you are truly fair when men proclaim it:
The Phœnix that was never seen is doubted,
But when the Virtue's known, the Honour's doubled:
Virtue is either lame or not at all,
And Love a Sacriledge and not a Saint,
VVhen it barrs up the way to mens Petitions.

Ard.
Nay you shall love your Husband too; VVe
Come not to make a Monster of you.

Lucin.
Are you VVomen?

Ard.
You'l find us so; and women you shall thank too
If you have but Grace to make your Use.

Lucin.
Fie on you.

Phor.
Alas, poor bashful Lady! By my Soul
Had you no other Virtue, but your Blushes,
And I a man, I should run mad for those!
How prettily they set her off! how sweetly!

Ard.
Come, Goddess, come! you move too near the Earth,
It must not be, a better Orb stays for you.

Lucin.
Pray leave me.

Phorb.
That were a Sin, sweet Madam, and a way
To make us guilty of your Melancholy,
You must not be alone; In Conversation
Doubts are resolv'd, and what sticks near the Conscience
Made easie and allowable.

Lucin.
Ye are Devils.

Ard.
That you may one day bless for your Damnation.

Lucin.
I charge you in the Name of Chastity
Tempt me no more: how ugly you seem to me!
There's no wonder Men defame our Sex,
And lay the Vices of all Ages on us,
When such as you shall bear the Name of Women!
If you had Eyes to see your selves, or sence,
Above the base Rewards yee earn with shame!
If ever in your Lives yee heard of Goodness
Tho' many Regions off,—as men hear Thunder;
If ever you had Fathers, and they Souls,
Or ever Mothers, and not such as you are!
If ever any thing were constant in you
Besides your Sins!
If any of your Ancestors
Dy'd worth a Noble Deed—that would be cherish'd,
Soul-frighted with this black Infection,
You would run from one anothers Repentance,
And from your Guilty Eyes drop out those Sins
That made ye blind and Beasts.

Phorb.
You speak well, Madam!
A sign of fruitful Education
If your religious Zeal had Wisdom with it.

Ard.
This Lady was ordain'd to bless the Empire,
And we may all give thanks for Her.

Phorb.
I believe you.

Ard.
If any thing redeem the Emperor
From his wild flying Courses this is she!
She can instruct him—if you mark—she's wise too.

Phor.
Exceeding wise, which is a wonder in her;
And so religious that I well believe,
Tho' she wou'd sin she cannot.

Ard.
And besides
She has the Empire's Cause in hand, not Love's,
There lies the main consideration
For which she is chiefly born.

Phorb.
She finds that Point
Stronger than we can tell her, and believe it
I look by her means for a Reformation,
And such a one, and such a rare way carry'd.

Ard.
I never thought the Emperor had wisdom,
Pity, or fair Affection to his Country,
Till he profest this Love. Gods give 'em Children
Such as her Virtues merit and his Zeal;
I look to see a Numa from this Lady,
Or greater than Octavius.

Phor.
Do you mark too
Which is a noble Virtue—how she blushes,
And what flowing Modesty runs through her
When we but name the Emperor.

Ard.
Mark it!
Yes, and admire it too: for she considers
Tho' she be fair as Heav'n, and Virtuous
As holy Truth; Yet to the Emperor
She is a kind of Nothing—but her Service;
Which she is bound to offer, and she'l do it;
And when her Countries Cause commands Affection,
She knows Obedience is the Key of Virtues;
Then fly the Blushes out like Cupid's Arrows,
And though the Tie of Marriage to her Lord,
Would fain cry, stay Lucina—yet the Cause
And general Wisdom of the Prince's Love
Makes her find surer Ends and happier,
And if the first were chaste these are twice doubled.

Phor.
Her Tartness to us too.

Ard.
That's a wise one.

Phor.
I like it, it shews a rising Wisdom,
That chides all common Fools who dare enquire
What Princes would have private.

Ard.
What a Lady shall we be blest to serve?

Lucin.
Go—get you from me,
Yee are your Purses Agents not the Princes,
Is this the virtuous Love you train'd me out to?
Am I a Woman fit to Imp your Vices?
But that I had a Mother and a Woman
Whose ever living Fame turns all it touches
Into the Good, it self was, I should now
Even doubt my self; I have been searcht so near
The very Soul of Honour. Why shou'd you Two
That happily have been as chaste as I am!
Fairer I think by much (For yet your Faces
Like Ancient well-built Piles shew worthy Ruines)
After that Angel Age, turn mortal Devils!
For Shame, for Womanhood, for what you have been
(For rotten Cedars have born goodly Branches)
If you have hope of any Heav'n but Court
Which like a Dream you'l find hereafter vanish:
Or at the best but subject to Repentance!
Study no more to be ill spoken of
Let Women live themselves; if they must fail;
Their own Destruction find 'em.

Ard.
You are so excellent in all
That I must tell it you with Admiration!
So true a joy you have, so sweet a fear!
And when you come to Anger—'Tis so noble
That for my own part I could still offend
To hear you angry: Women that want that
And your way guided (else I count it nothing)
Are either Fools or Fearful.

Phorb.
She were no Mistress for the World's great Lord
Could she not frown a ravisht Kiss from Anger,
And such an Anger as this Lady shews us
Stuck with such pleasing Dangers (Gods I ask yee)
Which of you all could hold from?

Lucin.
I perceive you,
Your own dark Sins dwell with you and that price
You sell the Chastity of modest Wives at,
Run to Diseases with you—I despise you,
And all the Nets you have pitcht to catch my Virtue,
Like Spiders webs I sweep away before me!
Go! tell! th'Emperor, You have met a Woman,
That neither his own Person, which is God-like,
The VVorld he rules, nor what that VVorld can purchase,
Nor all the Glories subject to a Cæsar!
The Honours that he offers for my Honour,
The Hopes, the Gifts, and everlasting Flatteries,
Nor any thing that's His, and apt to tempt.
No! not to be the Mother of the Empire
And Queen of all the holy Fires he worships,
Can make a VVhore of.

Ard.
You mistake us, Madam.

Lucin.
Yet tell him this, h'as thus much weaken'd me
That I have heard his Slaves and you his Matrons.
Fit Nurses for his Sins! which Gods forgive me
But ever to be leaning to his Folly,
Or to be brought to love his Vice—Assure him
And from her Mouth, whose Life shall make it certain,
I never can; I have a Noble Husband
Pray tell him that too: Yet a Noble Name,
A Noble Family, and last a Conscience.
Thus much by way of Answer; for your selves
You have liv'd the shame of VVomen—die the better.
[Ex. Luc.

Phor.
VVhat's now to do?

Ard.
Even as she said, to die.
For there's no living here and VVomen thus,
I am sure for us two.

Phor.
Nothing stick upon her?—

Ard.
VVe have lost a Mass of Money. VVell Dame Virtue,
Yet you may halt if good Luck serve!

Phor.
VVorms take her,

Ard.
So Godly—
This is ill Breeding, Phorba.

Phor.
If the VVomen
Should have a longing now to see the Monster
And she convert 'em all!

Ard.
That may be, Phorba!
But if it be I'l have the Young men hang'd,
Come—let's go think—she must not scape us thus.

[Exeunt.