 | The False One |  |
Scena Secunda.
Enter Apollodorus, Eros, Arsino.Ap.
Is the Queen stirring (Eros?)
Er.
Yes, for in truth
Shee touch'd no bed to night.
Ap.
I am sorry for it,
And wish it were in me, with my hazard
To give her ease.
Ars.
Sir, she accepts your will,
And does acknowledge she hath found you noble,
So far, as if restraint of liberty
Could give admission to a thought of mirth,
Shee is your debtor for it.
Ap.
Did you tell her
Of the sports I have prepar'd to entertaine her?
Shee was us'd to take delight, with her faire hand,
To angle in the Nyle, where the glad fish
(As if they knew who 'twas sought to deceive 'em)
Contended to be taken: other times
To strike the Stag, who wounded by her arrows,
Forgot his teares in death, and kneeling thanks her
To his last gaspe, then prouder of his Fate,
Then if with Garlands Crown'd, he had been chosen
To fall a Sacrifice before the altar
Of the Virgin Huntresse: the King, nor great Photinus
Forbid her any pleasure; and the Circuite
In which she is confin'd, gladly affords
Variety of pastimes, which I would
Encrease with my best service.
Er.
O, but the thought
That she that was borne free, and to dispence
Restraint, or liberty to others, should be
At the devotion of her Brother, whom
She only knows her equall, makes this place
In which she lives (though stor'd with all delights)
A loathsome dungeon to her.
Ap.
Yet, (how ere
She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting
To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd
Choise Musicke neare her Cabinet, and compos'd
Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time)
In the praise of imprisonment. Begin boy.
[Boy.]
The Song.
Looke out bright eyes, and blesse the ayre:
Even in shadowes you are faire.
Shut-up-beauty is like fire,
That breakes out clearer still and higher.
Though your body be confin'd,
And soft Love a prisoner bound,
Yet the beauty of your mind,
Neither checke, nor chaine hath found.
Looke out nobly then, and dare,
Even the Fetters that you weare.
Enter Cleopatra.
Cleo.
But that we are assur'd this tasts of duty,
And love in you (my Guardian) and desire
In you (my Sister) and the rest, to please us,
We should receive this, as a sawcy rudenesse
Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents
Are to delight us: alas, you wash an Ethiop:
Can Cleopatra, while she does remember
Whose daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O
I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)
There is no place in Ægypt, where I stand,
But that the tributary Earth is proud
To kisse the foote of her, that is her Queen,
Can she (I say) that is all this, e're relish
Of comfort, or delight, while base Photinus,
Bond man Achillas, and all other monsters
That raigne ore Ptolomy, make that a Court,
Where they reside, and this, where I a Prisoner?
But there's a Rome, a Senate, and a Cæsar,
(Though the great Pompey leane to Ptolomy)
May thinke of Cleopatra.
Ap.
Pompey (Madam?)
Cleo.
What of him? speake: if ill (Appollodorus)
It is my happinesse: and for thy newes
Receive a favour (Kings have kneel'd in vaine for)
And kisse my hand.
Ap.
Hee's lost.
Cleo.
Speake it againe?
Ap.
His army routed: he fled and pursu'd
125
Cleo.
Whether bends he?
Ap.
To Egypt.
Cleo.
Ha! in person?
Ap.
'Tis receiv'd,
For an undoubted truth,
Cleo.
I live againe,
And if assurance of my love, and beauty
Deceive me not, I now shall finde a Judge,
To do me right: but how to free my selfe,
And get accesse? the Guardes are strong upon me,
This doore I must passe through, Appollodorus;
Thou often hast profess'd (to do me service,)
Thy life was not thine owne.
Ap.
I am not alterd;
And let your excellency propound a meanes,
In which I may but give the least assistance,
That may restore you, to that you were borne to,
(Though it call on the anger of the King,
Or, (what's more daedly) all his Minion
Photinus can do to me, I, unmov'd,
Offer my throate to serve you: ever provided,
It beare some probable shew to be effected,
To loose my selfe upon no ground, were madnesse:
Not loyall duty.
Cleo.
Stand off: to thee alone,
I will discover what I dare not trust
My Sister with, Cesar is amarous,
And taken more with the title of a Queene,
Then feature or proportion, he lov'd Evnoe;
A More, deformed too, I have heard, that brought
No other object to inflame his blood,
But that her husband was a King, on both
He did bestow rich presents; shall I then,
That with a Pincly birth, bring beauty with me,
That know to prize my selfe at mine owne rate,
Despaire his favour? art thou mine?
Ap.
I am.
Cleo.
I have found out a way shall bring me to him,
Spight of Photinus watches, if I prosper,
(As I am confident I shall) expect
Things greater then thy wishes, though I purchase
His grace, with losse of my virginity,
It skills not, if it bring home Majesty.
Exeunt.
| The False One | |