University of Virginia Library

Scæne 2.

Enter Petesca, and Gentlewoman.
Pet.
Lord, what a coile has here been with these Souldiers?
They are cruell fellowes.

Wo.
And yet me thought we found 'em
Hansome enough; I'le tell thee true Petesca,
I look'd for other manner of dealings from 'em,
And had prepar'd my selfe; but where's my Lady?

Pet.
In her old dumps within: monstrous mellancholly;
Sure she was mad of this wench.

Wo.
And she had been a man,
She would have been a great deale madder, I am glad she is shifted.

Pet.
'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her,
Ent. Alinda
And yet I must confesse she stood in our lights,
What young thing's this?

Al.
Good morrow beuteous Gentlewomen:
Pray you is the Princesse stirring yet?

Wo.
He has her face.

Pe.
Her very tongue, and tone too: her youth upon him.

Al.
I ghesse ye to be the Princesse women.

Pet.
Yes, We are sir.

Al.
Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace,
Ye call Alinda?

Pet.
The devill sure in her shape.

Wo.
I have heard her tell my Lady of a brother,
An only brother that she had: in travell—

Pet.
'Mas, I remember that: this may be he too:
I would this thing would serve her.

Enter Olimpia
Wo.
So would I wench,
We should love him better sure: sir, here's the Princes,
She best can satisfie ye.

Al.
How I love that presence!
O blessed eyes how nobly shines your comforts!

Ol.
What Gentleman is that?

Wo.
We know not Madam:
He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guesse it,
He is Alindas Brother.

Ol.
Ha? let me marke him:
My griefe has almost blinded me: her brother?
By Venus, he has all her sweetnesse upon him:
Two silver drops of dew, were never liker.

Al.
Gratious Lady—

Ol.
That pleasant pipe he has too.

Al.
Bring my happinesse to passe by this way,
And having as I understand by Letters,
A sister in your vertuous service Madam—

Ol.
O now my heart, my heart akes.

Al.
All the comfort
My poore youth has, all that my hopes have built me,
I thought it my first duty, my best service
Here to arive first, humbly to thanke your Grace
For my poore sister, humbly to thanke your noblenesse,
That bounteous goodnesse in ye.

Ol.
'Tis he certainly.

Al.
That spring of favour to her: with my life Madam
If any such most happy meanes might meet me,
To shew my thankefulnesse.

Ol.
What have I done foole?

Al.
She came a stranger to your Grace, no Courtier;
Nor of that curious breed befits your service,
Yet one I dare assure my soule, that lov'd ye
Before she saw ye; doated on your vertues;
Before she knew those faire eyes long'd to read 'em,
You only had her prayers, you her wishes;
And that one hope to be yours once, preserv'd her,

Ol.
I have done wickedly.

Al.
A little beauty,
Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her;
And yet our Countrie eyes esteem'd it much too:
But for her beauteous mind forget great Lady
I am her brother, and let me speake a stranger,
Since she was able to beget a thought, 'twas honest,
The dayly studdy how to fit your services,
Truly to tread that vertuous path you walke in,
So fir'd her honest soule, we thought her Sainted;
I presume she is still the same: I would faine see her,
For Madam, 'tis no little love I owe her.

Ol.
Sir, such a maid there was, I had—

Al.
There was Madam?

Ol.
O my poore wench: eyes, I will ever curse ye
For your credulity, Alinda.

Al.
That's her name, Madam.

Ol.
Give me a little leave sir to lament her.

Al.
Is she dead Lady?

Ol.
Dead sir, to my service.
She is gone, pray ye aske no further,

Al.
I obey Madam:
Gone? now must I lament too: said ye gone, Madam?

Ol.
Gone, gone for ever.

Al.
That's a cruell saying,
Her honour too?

Ol.
Prethee looke angry on me,
And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me;
Doe something like a brother, like a friend,
And do not only say thou lov'st her—

Al.
Ye amaze me.

Ol.
I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her;
Poore innocent soule, I stung her; sweet Alinda,
Thou vertuous maid, my soule now cals thee vertuous.
Why do ye not raile now at me?

Al.
For what Lady?

Ol.
Call me base treacherous woman.

Al.
Heaven defend me.

Ol.
Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me,
Rashly, and madly I betrai'd her modesty,
Put her to wander, heaven knows where: nay, more sir,
Stucke a blacke brand upon her.

Al.
'Twas not well Lady,

Ol.
'Twas damnable: she loving me so deerely,
Never poore wench lov'd so: Sir, beleeve me,
'Twas the most dutious wench, the best companion,
When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest,
The modestest sweet nature dwelt within her:
I saw all this, I knew all this I lov'd it,
I doated on it too, and yet I kil'd it:
O what have I forsaken? what have I lost?

Al.
Madam, I'le take my leave, since she is wandring,
'Tis fit I know no rest.

Ol.
Will you go too sir?
I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me,
For yet I love Alinda there, I honour her,
I love to looke upon those eyes that speake her,
To read that face againe, modesty keepe me,
Alinda, in that shape: but why should you trust me,
'Twas I betray'd your sister, I undid her;
And beleeve me, gentle youth, 'tis I weep for her:
Appoint what pennance you please: but stay then,
And see me performe it: aske what honour this place
Is able to heape on ye, or what wealth:
If following me will like ye, my care of ye,
Which for your sisters sake, for your owne goodnesse—

Al.
Not all the honour earth h'as, now she's gone Lady,
Not all the favour; yet if I sought preferment,
Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it.
Peace rest upon ye: one sad teare every day
For poore Alindas sake, 'tis fit ye pay,

Exit.
Ol.
A thousand noble youth, and when I sleep,
Even in my silver slumbers still I'le weep.

Exit.