University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Quisara laid Melancholy. Panura waiting. Soft Musick and Song.
Quis.
Make me unready,
I slept but ill last Night.

Pan.
You'll sleep the better to Night I hope, Madam.

Quis.
A little Rest contents me—fetch my Book.

Pan.
I'm glad of that.

[Aside.
Quis.
I'll read awhile before I sleep.
And if Ruidias meet you, and be importunate,
He may come in.

Pan.
I have better fare for you.
[Aside.
Now least in sight play I.
Exit Panura.

Quisara alone.
Quis.
Ye Gods how happy is that Shepherdess,
Who through Love is to the Plains confined,
And ne're aspires above the Shepherds Tribe;
Yet still she's free to take the Swain she Loves,
While Royal Virgins Hearts are publick Pawns
To serve the needs of State; barter'd and sold:
Nor can I only blame my Birth or Fortune;
Virtue and Honour have alike betrayed me.
The Kings restor'd, but I a Prisoner made.
By promise his Restorer's Sacrifice.
Oh Fortune! Fatal Virtue! Oh Ruidas!
Enter Armusia, who locks the Door after him.
Shield me ye Powers! What's here?
Sure 'tis the Phantasm of the Man I dread;
Form'd by my Fears: Who are you; and whence come you?

Arm.
You sure may know me:
I bring no such Amazement.

Quis.
Who waits there? rude Intruder speak?
What means this Treachery? Who let you in?

Arm.
My restless Love that serves you.

Quis.
This is an Impudence unparallell'd,
A rudeness that becomes a Thief or Russian.
Nor shall my Brother's Love protect this boldness;
My Rooms are Sanctuaries, and shall be approach'd
With Reverence equal to the Temples of
Our Gods.

Arm.
Mine are not less.

Quis.
I am Mistress of my self, and will not be
Thus Visited, spight of boasted Service.

Arm.
Most Royal.—

[Approaches her respectfully.
Quis.
Stand off, I see dishonour in your Eyes.

[Draws a Poniard.
Arm.
There's none.
By all that Beauty they are innocent;
'Pray' tremble not, you have no Cause.

Quis.
So base a Violation of my Privacy?

Arm.
If there be in you any Female pity,
And that your fears have not proclaimed me Monstrous,
Look on me and believe me; is this Violence?
The Griefs and Sorrows that grow here, Impudence?
Is it to fall thus prostrate to your Beauty,
A Ruffian's boldness? is Humility Rudeness?
Far be it from my Heart to fright your Quiet,
And heaviest Curse fall on me, when I intend it.

Quis.
May I believe?

Arm.
Had I been mischievous,
As then I must be Mad, or were a Monster,
If any such base Thoughts had harbour'd here,
Or Violence becoming not a Man,
You have a thousand Bulwarks to assure you,
The Holy Powers bear shields for Chastity.
If you misdoubt me still,
Or yet retain a fear I am not honest,
Or come with impure Thoughts to these blest Mansions,
Take this and sheath it here; be your own safety:
Make hast to rid fears, and let me perish.
How willing shall I sleep to satisfie you!

Quis.
What came you then for?

Arm.
To complain, my Angel,
But Modestly.

Quis.
Of What?

Arm.
Your Cruelty.
For though I die I will not blame the Doer.
To instance what I have done to obtain you,
If any thing that Love Commands, may reach you,
To have remember'd you—but I'm unworthy,
And to that Misery falls all my Fortune,
That Oh I fear to claim what you have promised!
(So much more easy was the Task proposed,
Than to demand the Recompence) to have told you,
That as my Love is honest 'tis confirm'd;
Beyond the Power even of your dread Commands,
To change or make it less; beyond your Scorn:
For though despairing I have sworn to Marry
You or your Memory—'Pray be not Angry.

Quis.
Then you would have me pass a fair Opinion
Of this untimely Entrance; that it meant
No Violation to my Peace or Honour;
And but the rash Effects of Love's Excess?

Arm.
No more by Heaven.

Quis.
And that you are hereafter
Devoted to my Service.

Arm.
Life and Fortune.

Quis.
I'll try then your Obedience.

Arm.
I am ready,
Without demanding what.

Quis.

Then from this hour expect no farther favour,
nor once remember services you have done, nor dangers
past, nor the rewards due to them.

Arm.
Is this my Doom, and is there no Redress?

Quis.
But one,
Which you must wholly to my Favour owe;
For I must blush to tell your Cure—I LOVE—
My Heart was all dispos'd before you claim'd it;
Fancy had got the start of your Deserts,
Which yet I prize so high, that for your Ease,
I force my Modesty on this Confession,
To disengage your hopes: nor let the Man,
That has so highly serv'd, depend
On Fruitless Air.

Arm.
This is indeed Court Mercy,
To let the Suitor know his Doom betimes.
But, Madam, was—

Quis.
I've said and must enjoyn you,
To quit this Place immediately.

Arm.
I obey you.

[As he is going out he justles with Ruidias Entring.
Rui.
Ha! Who is This?

Arm.
Who art Thou?

Rui.
A Gentleman.

Arm.
Thou art no more I am sure.—Oh 'tis Ruidias,
And I perceive her favour'd Lover.

Rui.
Is there not Door enough,
You take such Elbow room?

Arm.
What I take I'll carry.

Rui.
Do's this become you Princess?

Arm.
Jealous alas of Mee! How blind is Man.
Go, freely go, I give thee Leave.

Rui.
Your Leave?

Arm.
The Place and you are privileged; therefore go.
[Exit Armusia.

Quis.
What a pure Soul inhabits in this Youth?
Courage and Temper; such transcending Worth,
As cannot fail to make Impress of Love
In heart not pre-engaged: My choice is past!

Rui.
Am I then made your Property? Are these, Madam,
The Banquets that you bid me to? the trust
I build my goodly hopes on?

Quis.
Be more Temperate;
Your Love stands yet upon my Courtesie;
I never gave you Promise, bare Permission,
To tell your Love was all i've yet allow'd,
And if you do abuse your Privilege—

Rui.
Armusia here, and in the dead of Night?
May I not, Madam, take the leave to ask,
How he came hither; pressing, or invited?

Quis.
You are too bold.

Rui.
What, At these private Hours?

Quis.
You are to rash to tax me with an Error.
Know what I am, and my Prerogative,
I never taught you too dispose my Freedom.
How durst you touch my Honour, blot my meaning,
And name an Action and of mine, but Noble!
Are those the Gratitudes you bring, Ruidias,
The Thanks, the Services! How have I grac'd thee?
And dost thou in return upbraid my Vertue?

Rui.
I was to blame.

Quis.
Armusia wou'd not pass so rash a Censure,
And Justice tells me I should punish thee:
But 'twas a fault of Love—Yet learn henceforth
Less Jealousie, nay I had almost said,
More Gallantry.

Rui.
More Gallantry! She cannot doubt my Courage,
This Isle has found it—But Armusia's Lawrels
Bear fresher Date—Yet still I hold her Heart,
And must with him dispute the point of Fame,
And when I have o'ercome him the Field,
His ruin'd Glories mine shall firmer Build.