University of Virginia Library

THE 2D ACT.

[Scene I.]

The Scene drawn, Oroandes is discover'd laying asleep uppon a Couch, when presently ye Heavens open, wherein ye Temple of Cupid appears. After divers sorts of Musick heard above, Cupid descends with 2 darts in his hands, one of jealousy, ye other of despair. Hee goes round Oroandes, at last sticks 'em both in him; which done he flys upp. Divers spirits meeting him. Hee sings this song when hee goes round Oroandes.
They all fly upp singing, and ye Heavens close. Soft Musick is heard as they fly upp. Oroandes rises and takes ye darts and breaks 'em, and then speaks.
Oro.
Why, foolish God, do'st thou torment my breast
And soe abruptly break mee of my rest?
[Hee falls asleep again. A Vision appears to him in ye shape of Polynice, and pulls him. Hee wakes.
Bee gon, fantastick image of ye Night!
Thou vain deluder of m'imposed on sight!
Aery nothing!
[Hee falls asleep again. The Vision comes again and pulls him, and then vanishes; at which he rises and speaks.
Hah! Come again!
Heavens! for me it sure does something mean,
There's something in it yet besides a dream.
How my Soul burns and akes!
Oh! I have lost my Courage with my Heart,
And Love at length has tryumph'd with his darts.
Who could resist that dazeling, glorious light?
Noe mortall sure could ever shine soe bright.
Come then again, thou sweet, deluding fair!
And tell mee where thy aery mansions are.
Then wing'd with swiftest love, to thee I'le fly,
And always in thy bosome melting lye;
Noe god shall love soe well in all ye scky.
All ye brisck sprights of heaven shall admire,
To see us keep soe long our sacred fire.
Had but Prometheus stay'd to see us reign,
From us he would have borrowed his flame.

Enter Polynice.
Poly.
Ohoo—

[Goeing out.
Oro.
«O, this is shee. Ye bright vision's here;
With ye same awfull dread does too appear.»
Stay, glorious Fair! ah, whither doe you goe?
Why doe you shun mee who am not your foe?
I who against great Love did once design
All my high thoughts to bloody war incline,
Am now a Votary to fair Venus shrine. [Bows to her.

Beleive mee, Madam, and I glory too
That to such Beauty I my Conquest owe!

Poly.
If Polynice you ever yet did see,
You durst not, Sir, thus talk of love to mee.
Ev'ry petty, forreign Prince that does come here,
Although they know before I am severe
And use with stricktest rigour to appear,
Yet to my face they dare declare their love
And feign would have mee what they say approve.
By Heavens Thunder
I am resolv'd, if ere I can, I'le kill
And all their blood unto my Beauty spill.

Oro.
O direfull words!

Poly.
Thou wretch! how dar'st thou look mee in the face!
I thought I could have kill'd thee in ye place.
Sure all my pointed charms are gone today
Or you could not soe impudently stay.

Oro.
'Tis Oroandes, Madam, does implore, [Kneels.

'Tis Oroandes, Madam, does adore.

Poly.
Rise, Prince. 'Tis not fit you kneel.

Oro.
You cannot sure soe tyger cruell prove
As for to think that I am not in love.
By all th'innumerous gods! Shall I swear?

Poly.
You may bee perjur'd if you don't take care.

Oro.
It is impossible in a cause soe just.
As soon may Heavens light forgoe his trust.

Poly.
I must not love, nor can you mee Injoy.

Oro.
Oh, don't soe quickly all my hopes destroy.
Sure a little you may love; doe but try.
A little will suffice untill I dye.

Poly.
By Heavens I can't! what would you have mee doe?
I've not a spark of love now left for you;
Therefore in time withdraw your fruitless love,
And your great soul with nobler Passions move.
What souldier would yet fling his life away
When ye Commanders did keep back his pay?
In vain you lay your seige ye fort to win,
In vain you did this enterprise begin.
It is already stoutly man'd within. [Exit.


Oro.
She's gon, she's gon! What shall I doe? She's gon!
My eyes grow dark, and can pursue noe longer. [Raving.

The mist grows thicker, and rolls in clouds.
—Oh, my sick heart! [Milder.

What seige, what fort, what enterprise had I?
And under what commander must I dye?
Too late, great Cupid, I thy pow'r doe find.
Despair already seazes on my mind,
And I'me to melancholy thoughts inclin'd. [Exit.

[Scene II.]

Scene Ye Pallace.
Enter King Zoroastres, Ambassadour as from Persia, with Attendants.
Zor.
Are these ye reasons hee gives for his invasion?
Won't hee goe back?—why will hee perish?
Goe—unblind his ambition. I pity his youth,
Will yet forgive and treat him as my brother King.
But if hee will engage and won't retire,
Destroy my Kingdomes still with sword and fire,
It shall bee war and must!

Am.
I accept it. It shall bee war. [Exit.


To ye King, Phylander, Daemolgoron, Polynice.
Zor.
News unto you, first sons of fame, I bring
From ye proud, insulting Persian King.
Grown arrogant because of his long ease,
Hee has basely broken our long kept peace,
Invaded our Dominions with sword and fire!
Goe then, my son, and all our forces call,
Muster up old and young, ye low and tall,
For like myself I am resolv'd to fall.

Daem.
Vict'ry soe long, Sir, has been us'd to you
That she'le bee asham'd to forsake you now.

Zor.
On, then, brave Hero's! and with dreadfull sound
Like Earthquakes, let your drums tear upp ye ground,
And waken Fate.
Make Nature startle at your loud Allarmes,
And nobely bath in humane gore your Arms.
Let not poor pity once come in your mind,
Nor ever have a thought of beeing kind.
Cut them peices, when they groveling lye;
As they basely liv'd, let them basely dye.

Daem.
All your severe commands I will fullfill.
Ten thousand of their lives to you I'le spill.

Zor.
Yet bee not rash in following your foe.
An empire's too much for one single blow.

[Exit Daemolgoron.
Phy.
Nor I, dread sov'reign, will here idle stay;
Honour and glory both doe call away.
Methinks ye battle is by both begun.
My blood does boil within mee to bee gon.
Noise of drums and hollowing.
Such noises waked mee in my infant cradle,
And kept mee from sleeping into softness.

Zor.
Ha! brave Ally!—goe, pursue your victory.
'Tis not with men you'le fight, but luxury.

[Embraces him. Exit.
Phy.
Thy declining state, O Persia, I pity.
Riches and gaudy arms won't bribe our honest fates.
They're not to bee tempted, nor will they spare,
And if for crouds, our vict'ry stands at stay,
I'le in and with my sword hue out her way.
Fate shall rejoice to see soe great a flood,
To see them close their dying eyes in blood.
Wing'd thus with hopes, unto ye camp I'le fly,
Not teach them how to live, but how to dye.

Poly.
Who then must stay for to defend us here?

Phy.
There's noe one, Madam, will affront ye fair.

Poly.
O, my Phylander, can you leave mee soe?

Phy.
Heaven knows how unwillingly I goe!
With what reluctance I doe part with you.

Poly.
Oh, 'tis easey, very easey—
Some Persian dame noe question but you'le find.
How then should I injure you if she's kind,
To make you tarry here with mee behind?
Noe, noe, goe—I ne're will stay you sure. [Weeping.


Phy.
Break, break my heart, how can'st thou this endure?
What Pity is't such glitt'ring pearls as these
Should bee found always in the wat'ry seas!
Weep, fair, noe more. Enough we understand
How much ye sea is richer than ye land.
Oh—Madam, I shall ne're endure to fight
As long as you—

Poly.
—doe tarry in my sight.
As I doe know I'me troublesome to you,
Forever then, forever, oh, Adeiw! [Goeing.


Phy.
Stay, cruell fair, I doe conjure you, stay.
'Tis glory calls and hastens mee away.

Poly.
Pursue your glory, but let mee alone.
Goe, post away, or else she will bee gon.

Phy.
Oh, forbear! ev'ry word does stab my Heart.
It is ingratitude, I know, to part,
But—

Poly.
I doe not ask that you should stay with mee,
You then would loose your share in victory.
Noe, follow arms; let glory still controul
That lordly tyrant of your warlike soul.
Yet still remember what to mee you owe,
And doe not all your life on fame bestow.
Adeiw— [Exit.


Enter Oroandes and overhears her ye two last verses.
Phy.
«She's gon; and now my soul's return'd again,
With wondrous vigour does begin to reign.
With pride and state I'le view bright beautys charms.
Loves tender voice will drown in wars Alarms.» [Exit.


Oro.
Yes, yes, it's trew—it must be soe, I'me sure.
Hee loves!—Who can a Rivall freind endure?
Is this that mighty foe that was enter'd in?
Has Phylander false to Oroandes been?
Enter Juliana, Cyane, Polynice.
Gods! but I beleive there's none at all.
If such, I'le make them come when I doe call,
Or unhinge all their temples when I fall. [Goeing out.


Jul.
Oroandes, stay!
[Oro. turns about and meets 'em.
«How vast a courage does hee seem to have, [Apart.

Who dares ye mighty gods themselves outbrave!
It will bee hard for to resist, I find,
All those rare beautys of his god-like mind.»
Heaven sure, Sir, sent you for to defend,
And to bee our distressed countreys freind.
You been't, I hope, for wars.

Cy.
Enough already to ye wars are gone,
Methinks you might stay here with us at home.

Poly.
Who then must lead our Fainting Armys,
And show them victory, if you detain this brave Generall?
Then let him goe to war.
As well may you ye sun hide in a cloud,
As for t'attempt his virtue for to shroud,
For war's ye Centre of ye valiant soul,
Nor will it let it act what's base or foul.

Oro.
You need not, Madam, bid mee for to goe,
Since I am grown so indiff'rent to you.
As soon as e're th'approaching night does come
[Raving.
And all her sable colours has put on,
I'le leave this place and wander o're ye plain
Untill I come unto ye Persian camp.
There I will kill, and tare all those I meet,
Spurning their gasping bodys with my feet;
Or leave my carcass on ye heated plain.
Their sun, when hee does see that dismall day,
Shall bee dismay'd and bee afraid to stay,
Shall take his Coach, and wheel, and post away.
Heavens roaring Canons shan't sound soe loud
As ye dying noise of ye vanquish'd croud.

Cy.
If as a sacrifice you there should fall,
Which Heav'n forbid, what then should wee doe all?

Jul.
Take care in time, prevent that fatall hour
Which all my joys must needs forever sour.
Fate when she sees you in such a croud as that,
Cover'd with reeking blood and dusty sweat,
By chance may not discover who you are.
O then betimes bee wise, betimes take Care!
Think, think, Oroandes, how dear you bee
And see whether you can forsake then mee!
For I with blushes this must needs confess,
Too well I love you for to tell you less.

Oro.
This language I could not expect from you,
Nor, Madam, can beleive it to bee trew,
Soe much it does transcend my hopes.

Cy.
«What shall I doe? I am forever lost!
My Love must needs bee by ye Princess crost.
His Nature's, too, soe haughty and severe,
That my complaints and sighs hee'le never hear.
Then to my dying hour I will conceal
And ne're that I a lover was, reveal.» [Exit.


A warlike noise is heard afar off.
Poly.
Ha! what unusuall noise is this I hear?

Jul.
Louder still—some danger's nigh, I fear.

Oro.
You need not as long as I have this. [Draws.

Stand thus.
[Pulls ye Ladys behind him.
Now let Heav'n itself with thunder sound th'alarm,
I'de keep my station here, my doom await,
And 'mongst their thickest swords would seek my fate.

Jul.
Oh! Heaven send us succour. [Noise nearer and louder.


Poly.
I scorn to shrink like you when fate does come,
I'le out, I am resolv'd, and face my doom.
My guard is innocence. [Exit.


Jul.
Oh, stay, my Oroandes, don't you goe.
Sure you, like her, will not forsake mee too.

Oro.
I'le stay and, Madam, ye whole world defye,
Think it an honour too for you to dye,
And if by fate I am ordain'd to fall,
Before you should for others succour call,
My very Ghost shall fright, and kill them all.

Jul.
I never will desire to live, when you for mee
Before could think it nothing for to dye.
But look! my sister yonder does appear,
Nor loaded does she seem to come with fear.
Hah! speak. Must wee dye? or bee all things well?

Poly.
The happiest news you can expect, I'le tell.
That dreadfull noise, which, like agues, shook you
And cool'd your running blood, was but ye Eccho
Of ye approaching Army. The King leads them
To ye temple of ye god of war.
This day for solemn rites hee does approve:
Tomorrow towards Persia they doe move.
Nor will ye King declare his royall mind
Whom next my Brother hee has cheife design'd.

Jul.
«Now my foreboding fear comes rolling on, [Apart.

Nor can it with ye rising Tempest down.
I know hee will my Oroandes take
And him ye gen'rall of his forces make.»
—Why, what's ye matter that Phylander stays?
Or what's ye Reason that ye King delays?

Poly.
Hee thinks it necessary, before they goe,
To ask Heav'n councell, what is best to doe.
This too is ye Army's Purgation day,
Till which is done they cannot goe away.

Oro.
From yonder vale they come, clad all in white;
Nimbler they seem than the swift sons of light.
The Preists with burning Tapers come before,
Dipping their unstain'd wands in victims gore,
Who, crown'd with garlands, freely come along
Nor doe they croud with fear into a throng,
Veiwing ye Feilds with scorn as they pass by,
As if they knew 'twas good to fast before they dye.
These beasts which for their Countreys good are slain
Shall shine hereafter as stars in Heaven.
Here, here they come. [Noise of trumpets.

My soul now burns, for Battles does prepare,
And has broke through Love for to goe to war.

[Scene III.]

The Scene Mar's Temple.
To Juliana, Polynice, and Oroandes, enter King Zoroastres, Daemolgoron, Phylander, Cyane, with Preists holding wands. At ye foot of the Altar Tapers stand burning, with dishes of blood. The Divan or High Preist takes a dish of blood, and after ye ceremony speaks.
H. P.
This blood the fates from dying Persia took,
And at ye blow th'expiring Kingdome shook
And strugl'd with its fate.

Zor.
Let Heaven bee propitious to my design
And all its altars shall with victims shine.

H. P.
On, Noble King! and all their gods destroy.
Poor subject gods, th'ave none soe great as you.

Zor.
O sacred Divan, tell us the Event.
Shall wee bee glorious conquerours, ride in tryumph?
See 'em bow their necks, ye slaves cringe and stoop?
That will bee brave, and worthy of our Arms!

H. P.
Tryumphs, and Tropheys shall your war succeed,
If all ye bord'ring Princes too doe bleed.
Our God loves blood.

Zor.
Before the sacred temple here, I swear
To perform all th'articles of your war.
Nor shall their putrid blood bee spar'd by mee,
I'le have a drop for ev'ry Deity.
Such mountains of dead corps shall heaped lye
That Jove shall fear th'invasion of the scky.

Daem.
The swelling granick floud shall bloody run
With sanguine streams and fright their setting sun.
With raging Flames wee'le all their Citys burn;
The very Heav'ns with smoke shall clouded turn;
All their high marble tow'rs shall scorched bee.
Soe much of fire Persia then shall see
That she shall mistake her own Deity.

H. P.
Sound then ye horned trumpets, sound away,
Outstrip ye sun, and post it with ye day.
For why, dread Monarck, should wee longer stay?
'Twas only Rome could conquer by delay.

Zor.
Advance our Eagles, bloudy let 'em fly;
Perch 'em with ye sun;
They le keep the aiding gods from coming nigh.

Oro.
Thy fate, o Persia, is drawing near.
Squadrons of armed men doe now appear.
All thy great Nobles in this war must dye,
And ev'ry one that helps as an Ally.
Thy sacred Magi, Gods themselves, must fall
As victims, to attone us angry all.

Zor.
The sun has almost lost ye sight of day,
See how hee gallops down ye Milkey way.
Hast then, you sons of glory, hast away!
These Royall Youths that here by us doe stand
Shall share, if they doe please, in our command.

Oro.
Dread sovereign, as long as here wee stay,
'Tis yours to command, and ours t'obey.

Phy.
Yes, I will goe, and if I can, I'le gain
All those citys which thicken on ye plain.

H. P.
May Heav'n prosper this your glorious design
And all its forces with your armys joine.

[The High Preist makes figures on ye ground while they speak hereafter.
Zor.
Hear then, brave Youths, since you're resolv'd to goe,
What 'fore these Altars I doe solemn vow.
Hee of you two which acts ye greatest thing,
That can ye fairest spoil unto mee bring,
Shall of my Daughters have—

Poly.
Hold, father, hold!
Promise them mountains of ye fairest gold
That ever yet were seen by Mortal Eye.
They'le sooner fight for gold than such as wee.

Phy.
Oh, Madam—I thought you had better known
The worth that's due to such Perfection.
Let Cursed Gold in Earth still tombed lye!
What has gold to doe with poor love and I?
May it below with Pluto still remain
And never fright mee from my Heav'n again!

Oro.
«Hell! Furys! where are all my spirits gone?
Can I still live? and hear him thus run on?
I can't.
What's freindship?—Nothing when great love appears.»
Draw, Sir [Draws.


Phy.
Hold—I'le not draw against ye man I love.
I'le never soe ungratefull to you prove.

Oro.
This will not doe. You must and shall, Sir, draw.

Poly.
Who ever such ingratitude yet saw?
Hold, barbarian, stop thy Hand. Peirce my heart
If you must have blood, but touch not his—
'Tis sacred. As you love, show your Obedience. [Exit.


Phy.
Yet doe not think, because I doe retire,
I ether fear your arm, or dread your ire.
Take, take my life, I'le noe resistance make.
You cannot miss unless your hand does shake.

The King interposes.
Zor.
Hold, Oroandes, 'tis I your King command.
If you but offer, you shall leave my land.
Ramm down ye rising Passions of your mind,
And leave no relick of your wrath behind;
And this I'le promise on my Royall word,
Hee of you two who does deserve ye best,
Of ye fair Polynice shall bee possest,
But hee, that next of you does dare t' offend,
Not only looses her, but mee his freind.

[Exit cum Phyl.
Oro.
By merits only if this saint bee wonn,
I'le have her 'fore ye yonder setting sun.

Jul.
«Burst then my Heart, Heavens! What shall I doe?
Where can ye wretched Juliana goe?
Outrival'd by my sister—yonger too!
Curse on my stars!
I'le boldly say hee has ungratefull been.
Why should I not, and tell him of his sin?»
Ungratefull Man! are these ye vows you made?
[To Oroandes.
Remember how you woo'd mee in ye shade.
Did not you say, “Noe, I will never part.
How can I, Madam, when you have my Heart?”
Are not these truths? Deny 'em if you can.
Nay, ne're blush for't, thou trew dissembling man!
O Gods! that e're you could perfidious prove! [Weeps.

Especially to one who did you love.
Say—what was ye cause you did remove?

Oro.
Madam, you said you'de not accept of mine.
You bawk'd my flame which did soe glorious shine.
Thank then your self.

Jul.
I can noe longer stay.
His very ingratitude will drive m' away. [Exit.


Cy.
Alas, poor Princess, sh'as my Pity mov'd,
To see how unfortunately she lov'd.
Oroandes! can you see ye Princess dye,
And at your feet an humble sutour lye?
It is not handsome. Conquerours should bee mercifull.

Oro.
I thought, when first she scorn'd my rising flame,
She'd had some spirit, but I see she's tame.

Enter again Juliana hastily.
Jul.
Young Prince, you are mistaken, and shall find
I'me not soe tame. I'le scorn, I'le bee unkind,
And still I'le, I'le bee a Princess in my mind. [Exit.


H. P.
Noe more of love! Our god begins to frown,
Begins to answer in a dreadfull sound.
[A clap of thunder.
Away, away, you shall not stay this night;
I'le see you all goe marching in my sight.

[Exeunt omnes.
A Martial tune is playd. Enter King Zoroastres, Oroandes, Phylander, Daemolgoron, with swords drawn, with divers Preists who two and two cross ye stage, and close in a round, and sing.
[Exeunt.
Six spirits rise and dance an antick dance.

[Scene IV.]

Ye Scene Shifts to an Orange Grove.
Enter King Zoroastres.
Zor.
Soe now I'le satisfye my love. My son,
Who is my rivall, I have sent to wars,
For I must own it, that Cyane's beauty
Has surprised mee,
And heated my age into feircest love.
But lest you Beautys should think this a sin,
[Bows to ye Boxes.
Though age without, Thanke jove, I'me youth within.

[Shakes himself.
Cyane appears at ye other end of ye walk alone. The King meets her.
Zor.
Madam, whilest you walk here thus all alone,
You seem as if you did some loss bemoan.
How strangely you are melancholy grown!
Can nothing here divert, or please your sight?
Why should dark groves bee only your delight?
Speak but ye word, ten thousand Cupids here
Shall presently in antick forms appear,
Headed with ye wing'd and glorious god, Love.

Cy.
Soe little I am known unto that God,
That I'me affraid he'le fright mee with his sight.

Zor.
Love never sckares wheen hee comes cloath'd in light.
But if you dread to see that glorious god,
Like great Jove I'le embrace you in a cloud.

Cy.
Heavens protect mee! I begin to fear.

Zor.
Heavens are vain, when I ye Jove am here.
But why, dear Madam, should you dread my sight?
My godship I'le lay by, if that does fright,
And bee again a good substantiall man.

Cy.
I'de rather have you bee a god agen
Than act like those strange things which you call men,
For I have heard gods favour woemankind.

Zor.
Then mee a god, or like a god you'le find.
Madam, a god—

[Offers to embrace.
Cy.
Phoo! pray, Sir, let mee goe,
For I'me an Atheist to such gods as you.
I meant those glorious gods that bee soe high,
All those bright things that twinckle in ye scky.

Zor.
There's none of those are capable of love;
They can't love half soe well as I above.

Cy.
You are mistaken, Sir. Ye glorious sun
Already has his love to mee begun.
I'me sure hee is in Love, for when I pray,
Hee blushing hearkens unto what I say.

Zor.
Insulting Persia now is turn'd my foe
And I have some pretence for what I doe.
The sun my Rivall!—Heaven does conspire
T'extinguish quite my new created fire.
—But can you love soe gray a god as hee,
An one ey'd god! and Hackney of ye scky?
Soe ye Fair Semele did Jove admire,
And perish'd in that Love she did desire.
Other faults too hee has, which I can name.

Cy.
Doe if you dare. I'le vindicate his flame.

Zor.
This thought, Madam, will all your hopes destroy.
Hee'le rise soe poor, you can't him half enjoy.

Cy.
'Tis false,—hee's a god, and shall bee my Lord,
Eternally by mee shall bee ador'd.
Not only days, but years hee can make night,
If hee but pleases for to hide his Light.
And if e're I'me his, I'le walk ye sacred ground,
Whilest all ye wond'ring gods stand wishing round,
When you, poor Monarck, shall bee mortell found!
Hee as ye sun shall have ye Reins by day,
Whilest I ye night like bright Diana sway.
I'le bee his Heaven, and my arms ye sphere,
In which hee walks ye circle of his year.

Zor.
And is there ne're a star that will love mee?

Cy.
Noe, as long as I am Queen of Beauty.

Zor.
Is this ye Recompense for all my care,
And must my Age bee slight'd by your Youth?

Cy.
Age is an inconsiderate plea in Love,
Always shoots short and flags his Mark.

Zor.
Hold, Madam. I'me a king, and have been told
A Monarck never can bee thought too old,
But 'tis my son, who in your heart does thrive,
And Rebell like dares reign, whil'st I'me alive.
Yet hee shall find, though to that height hee's grown,
I'le bee as abs'lute in my love, as throne.

Cy.
You and your son are both alike to mee,
Therefore pray, Sir, let there noe diff'rence bee,
For I'me to all Loves a perfect Enemy.

Zor.
Could I beleive, my Joy would still remain,
To think that Youth noe more than Age could gain.
But, Madam, Heaven never would bestow
Soe great a Beauty only for a show.

Cy.
What ye great gods, I know not, have design'd,
But I am sure to Love I'me not inclin'd.
Free is my soul and ranges all—
Noe tyrant thoughts my heart shall ever move,
Nor awfull Greatness dare mee into love.

Zor.
Your hatred, Madam, has rous'd up that rage,
Which Love might soften, and would still asswage.
Hee that has pow'r, won't love too long in vain.

[Turns away.
Cy.
How! am I threaten'd? dare you m' honour stain?

Zor.
Urge it noe more—
Recant what you have said, and say you love,
Or I will force you, by immortall Jove.
Consider—

Cy.
Doe, Tarquin reviv'd! Force mee if you dare.
D'yee think I can't bee a Lucrece and fair?
Know Tyrant I doe all thy threats defy.
'Tis not in thee to make mee love—

Zor.
To dye.

Cy.
Death I would sooner take than life with you.

Zor.
Too much your anger you doe now pursue.
The fair I would not willingly offend.

Cy.
I don't desire you, Sir, to bee my freind
Once more I tell you, you pursue in vain.

Zor.
Madam—

Cy.
Why will you force mee to complain?
Woemen are naturally soe—mild, soe—still,
That when we're angry,—'tis against our—will,
But you must urge us on, and still persuade,
That wee are only for your uses made.
Ah, if by mee they would but once bee rul'd!
I durst engage, they never should bee fool'd. [Exit.


Zor.
Return, Cyane, I'le bee young again.
My smother'd love will kindle into flame.
But oh! she's gon—and I must follow.
—Remember, Gallants, that you have been told,
You'de better love when young, than when you're old.