University of Virginia Library

SCEN. 6.

Enter Princesse, Amione, Phylena, and others.
Prin.
No news yet?

1.
Not any Madam.

Prin.
Leave us, and give notice when any comes.

1.
I shall—

[Exit.
Prin.
We have not now sure far,
And yet me thinks 'tis a long while
Ere we are there, time is thought
The fastest undiscerned flying thing
That is, but yet Love's wings are swifter,
Swift wishes impe his ragged plumes
And pull the feathers from the wings of Time,
—And every houer bears
Double proportion from our hopes and fears.

Phyl.
This pretty way of account Madam, will rise
Unto a sum of ages, added
To what now Mironault's a heaping,
'Twill make a new Chronologie,
But we still reckon on the old account.

Prin.
You'r merry still, Phylena, when your day comes
You'le give me leave to do the same.

Phyl.
Yes Madam, we both agree,
And yet you shrewdly once suspected it
Of this fair maid,

Prin.
You make me blush, she way forgive me though
For she deserved it,

Amio.
O Madam,—
Could you fall so much below
The power of all your beauties in such fears
That you could justly let suspition dwell
Where you pretend an interest? The Rose as well
May drooping hang it's fragrant head
Jealous of meaner Flowers, and the Sun
Suspect his light when mortalls kindle fires.

Prin.
Nay Amione you court me now
I will not call it flattery, whil'st it comes
From thee, for that's a crime
That dwells with crooked natures, yet it was
Mistaken kindnesse.

Amio.
'Twas you mistook it sure, for none will find
Themselves deceived that love you,

Enter Mess.
Prin.
How now, what news?

Mess.
Just now for certain, Madam
The Lord Albertus joyned unto his son
With a great Body,

Prin.
They have not yet attempted ought.

Mess.
Yes Madam, before his Father's coming,
Phylanter storm'd the house.

Prin.
Ha: hast thou learnt no particulars?

Mess.
Yes all, for before the Lord Albertus coming
The smallnesse of their numbers gave us freedom
To enquire near the place of all particulars,
—And thus it was,
Soon as Phylanter had found out
The house they stayed at, presently he ghest
That wounds had caused their stay, by reason
They strove to reach no place of more security
And so indeed it was; ghessing besides,
They should have smal resistance: upon these thoughts
Phylanter draws about it, then summons them.
But in the midst the gallant Mironault
Hinders the parly with a hasty scorn,
As if he meant to drive no bargain,
But sell at his own rate, at which
The bravely bad Phylanter sweld with rage
Prepar'd to give th'assault, and in the head
Of all his men advanc't (some distance) first,
To bring on ruine great as was his crimes,
Or else to perish with them, and seem'd half willing
To be forgotten on a noble score;
So equally divided, or to hide
His mischiefs in their Fates, or in his own.
The storm grew hot, yet still Phylanter urged
Beyond belief, now out of Love with safety,
Because his foes in spight of him enjoyd it
(With an unlookt for power to resist him)
Branded the name of Fortune with a whore,
As if they had begot supplies upon her;
On t'other side his men sees shrinking from him,
When mad with rage he easily retires
With such a look as longing Lovers send
When they must part, so much he courted danger,
And now retreating with his drooping forces,
The gallant Mironault like a bright Sun
Broke from the smoakie storm, and issues forth,
Acting new Tragedies, till, being jealous
More forces might come in,
In order they retreated, and for certain
Phylanter both and Mironault are hurt.

Prin.
O me!

Phyl.
Madam send off the messenger, Let not him see
The least disorder.

Prin.
Go instanly, and bid Symathocles
Let all the Army march in readinesse to fight.

Mess.
I shall.

Prin.
And acquaint him with all you know
Exit Mess.
Nay do not hide thy tears Amione
They can't displease me, wench, nor shall I think
That there is grief enough for him,
Though I am fully stor'd.

Amio.
Alas, what a condition Fortune throws him in?
Did he but know by whom he were lamented
He could not have so much of joy,
As grief to think how he was ravisht
From the lov'd mourner;

Prin.
I prethee peace; not that I fear
To have more grief for him, for I have that
Within me has made that impossibility,
But to inlarge thy own, 'tis true too
That I should give thee counsell not to grieve,
But I shall grieve the while, yet if thou thinkest
I wrong thy kindnesse then wee'le mourn together
And joyn our stock of tears, for no one store
Is worthy of him.

Amio.
Though nature made me partiall, it robd me not
Of so much reason, to be so impudent,
The Fates perhaps, or some great power
That has a speciall care for you, or kindnesse,
Preserved you for themselves, and lent you to the world
As the Sun was, not for the happinesse
Of one alone but all.

Prin.
May we not yet amidst our greatest grief
Believe it is not dangerous; for after he was hurt
They leisurely retired.

Amio.
Would I could so be satisfied—
And yet that clearly justifies we wish
Our own contents, then when we raise
Our fears to equall power in our thoughts
Of what we doubt, yet what we wish to have;
None e're yet wish'd a life, but fear'd a grave.

Prin.
'Tis true Amione, those torturing rivalls
Hope and fear are ever whispering,
And they that have most need of one,
Have ever most of t'other. When I think this,
Though I would willingly pretend to counsell,
Or any thing would ease thy grief, I must
Believe it both impossible and needlesse.

Am.
Were it not just to linger then no longer
In all these doubts, since we might give them ease.

Prin.
As how can it be done?

Am.
I would attempt to see him, I onely want your leave.

Prin.
It is impossible, the ways are all shut up.

Am.
I do not mean to go concealed.
They say Phylanter is so much a Gentleman,
He will not certainly deny a woman.
Fear not, Madam, 'tis but two hours time,
And I am there, or here again.

Prin.
I can deny thee nothing, not this I'me sure;
If thou seest him, tell him, that Love and Constancy's rewarded
In t'other world, and will be so in this.
Tell him, I wish his happinesse
And mine own together. And be sure
You take a Chirurgeon with you.

Phyl.
My service, Madam.

Am.
I will not fail, Heaven keep you.
May I return with such a blessing
As I now bear to him.

[Exit.
Prin.
Farewell, dear Maid. Phylena, now
The time draws near of joy or misery,
—We live at an uncertain rate,
Or flatter'd stil, or else displeas'd with fate.

[Exeunt.