 | The Queene of Corinth |  |
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Agenor, Leonidas, Merione, Beliza.A sad Song.
Ag.
These heavie Ayres feed sorrow in her Lady,
And nourish it too strongly; like a Mother
That spoiles her Childe with giving on't the will.
Bel.
Some lighter note.
A lighter Song.
Leo.
How like a hill of Snow she sits, and melts
Before the unchast fire of others lust?
What heart can see her passion and not break?
Ag.
Take comfort gentle Madam; you know well
Even actuall sins committed without will,
Are neither sins nor shame, much more compell'd;
Your Honour's no whit lesse, your Chastity
No whit impair'd, for faire Merione
Is more a Virgin yet then all her Sex:
Alas, 'tis done; why burne these Tapers now?
Wicked and frantick Creatures joy in night.
Leo.
Imagine faire Merione had dream'd
She had been ravish'd, would she sit thus then
Excruciate?
Mer.
Oh.
Bel.
Fye, fye, how fond is this?
What reason for this surfet of remorse?
How many that have done ill, and proceed,
Women that take degrees in wantonnesse,
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That feele no scruple of this tendernesse?
Mer.
Pish.
Bel.
Nor are you matches in mishap, even I
Doe beare an equall part of misery;
That love, belov'd, a man, the Crowne of men,
Whom I have friended, and how rais'd 'tis better
That all doe know and speak it then my selfe:
When he sail'd low I might have made him mine,
Now at his full gale, it is questionable
If ever I o're-take him.
Ag.
Wherefore sits
My Phebe shadowed in a sable cloud?
Those pearly drops which thou lets't fall like beades,
Numbring on them thy vestall Orisons
Alas are spent in vaine: I love thee still,
In mid'st of all these showres thou sweetlier sent'st,
Like a green Meadow on an April day,
In which the Sun and West-wind play together,
Striving to catch and drink the balmy drops.
Enter Euphanes and Servant.
Ser.
The Lord Euphanes Madam.
Exit Mer.
Ag.
Poore Merione,
She loathes the light, and men.
Exit.
Euph.
The vertuous gods preserve my Mistris.
Bel.
O my most honour'd Lord, those times are chang'd.
Euph.
Let times and men change, could Heaven change, Euphanes
Should never change, to be devoted ever
To faire Beliza, should my load of honours,
Or any Grace which you were Author of
Detract mine honour, and diminish Grace?
The gods forbid: you here behold your Servant,
Your Creature, gentle Lady, whose sound sleepes
You purchas'd for him: whose food you paid for,
Whose garments were your charge, whose first preferment
You founded: then, what since the gracious Queene
Hath, or can reare, is upon your free Land,
And you are Mistris of.
Bel.
Mock me not gentle Lord,
You shine now in too high a spheare for me,
We are Plannets now disjoyn'd for ever: yet
Poore superstitious innocent that I am,
Give leave that I may lift my hands, and love
Not in Idolatry, but perfect zeale:
For credit me, I repent nothing I have done,
But were it to begin would do the same.
Euph.
There are two Seas in Corinth, and two Queens,
And but there, not two such in the spacious Universe;
I came to tender you the man you have made,
And like a thankfull streame to retribute
All you my Ocean have enrich'd me with.
You told me once you'ld marry me.
Bel.
Another mock? you were wont to play faire play,
You scorne poore helps; he that is sure to win,
May slight mean harts, whose hand commands the Queen
Euph.
Let me be held the Knave through all the Stock
When I doe slight my Mistris; you know well
The gracious inclination of the Queene,
Who sent me leave this morning to proceed
To marry, as I saw convenience,
And a great gift of Jewels: Three daies hence
The generall sacrifice is done to Vesta,
And can you by then be accommodated
Your servant shall wait on you to the Temple.
Bel.
Till now
I never felt a reall joy indeed.
Euph.
Here then I seale my duty, here my love,
Till which vouchsafe to weare this Ring, deare Mistris;
Twas the Queens Token, and shall celebrate
Our Nuptialls.
Bel.
Honour still raise, and preserve
My honour'd Lord, as he preserves all honour.
Exit Euph.
Enter Agenor, Leonidas, Merione.
Ag.
Why shift you places thus Merione,
And will not lend a word? Could'st thou so soone
Leave sorrow as the place, how blest were I,
But 'twill not be; griefe is an impudent guest,
A follower every where, a hanger on,
That words nor blowes can drive away.
Leo.
Deare Sister.
Bel.
Who can be sad? out with these Tragick Lights,
And let day repossesse her naturall howres:
Teare downe these blacks, cast ope' the Casements wide,
That we may jocondly behold the Sun.
I did partake with sad Merione
In all her mourning: let her now rejoyce
With glad Beliza, for Euphanes is
As full of love, full of humility
As when he wanted.
Mer.
Oh—that.
Leo.
Help, she faints:
Her griefe has broke her heart.
Mer.
No—that—that.
Ag.
Mistris, what point you at?
Her lamps are out, yet still she extends her hand
As if she saw something antipathous
Unto her vertuous life.
Leo.
Still, still she points,
And her lips move, but no articulate sound
Breathes from 'em: Sister, speak, what moves you thus?
Bel.
Her spirits returne.
Mer.
Oh, hide that fatall Ring,
Where had it you Beliza?
Bel.
What hid fate
Depends on it? Euphanes gave it me
As holy pledge of future Marriage.
Mer.
Then is Euphanes the foule Ravisher?
Let me speake this and dye. That dismall night
Which seal'd my shame upon me, was that Ring,
The partner of my rob'd virginity.
Leo.
Euphanes?
Ag.
Strange.
Bel.
Impossible.
Mer.
Impossible to have redresse on him,
Chiefe servant to the Queene—ha! I have read
Somewhere I am sure, of such an injury
Done to a Lady: and how she durst dye.
Exit.
Ag.
Oh follow her Beliza
Bel.
To assure her,
The unlikelihood of this
Ag.
Love hides all sins.
Exit.
What's to be done Leonidas?
Leo.
Why this:
Amazement takes up all my faculties;
The plagues of gods and men will muster all
To avenge this tyranny. Oh frontlesse man,
To dare doe ill, and hope to beare it thus:
First let's implore, then cure.
Ag.
Who, who can trust
The gentle lookes and words of two-fac'd man?
Like Corinths double torrent, you and I
Will rush upon the Land; nor shall the Queene
Defend this Villaine in his villany:
Lusts violent flames can never be withstood
Nor quench'd, but with as violent streames of blood.
Exeunt.
| The Queene of Corinth | |