 | The Queene of Corinth |  |
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Leonidas, Merione, Beliza, Servant.Leo.
Sister, I reape the harvest of my labours
In your preferment, be you worthy of it,
And with an open bosome entertaine
A greater fortune then my love durst hope for;
Be wise, and welcome it: play not the coy
And foolish wanton, with the offerd bounties
Of him that is a Prince. I was woo'd for you,
And won Merione: then if you dare
Beleeve the object that tooke me was worthy,
Or trust my judgement, in me think you were
Courted, sued to, and conquerd.
Mer.
Noble brother,
I have, and still esteeme you as a Father,
And will as farre obey you; my heart speakes it:
And yet without your anger give me leave
To say, That in the choice of that on which
All my lifes joyes or sorrowes have dependance,
It had been fit ere you had made a full
And absolute grant of me to any other,
I should have us'd mine owne eyes, or at least
Made you to understand, whether it were
Within my power to make a second gift
Of my poore selfe.
Leo.
I know what tis you point at,
The Prince Theanos love; let not that cheat you;
His vowes were but meere courtship; all his service
But practise how to entrap a credulous Lady:
Or grant it serious, yet you must remember
He's not to love but where the Queene his Mother
Must give allowance, which to you is barr'd up:
And therefore study to forget that ever
You cherisht such a hope.
Mer.
I would I could.
Leo.
But brave Agenor, who is come in person
To celebrate this Marriage, for your love
Forgives the forfeit of ten thousand lives,
That must have falne under the sword of war
Had not this peace been made; which generall good
Both Countries owe to his affection to you:
O happy Sister, aske this noble Lady
Your bosome friend (since I faile in my credit)
What palme Agenors name above all Princes
That Greece is proud of carries, and with lustre.
Rel.
Indeed fame gives him out for excellent;
And friend, I doubt not but when you shall see him
He'l so appeare to you. Art sure 'tis he?
Ser.
As I live Madam—
Bel.
Vertue enable me to containe my joy.
'Tis my Euphanes.
Ser.
Yes.
Bel.
And he's in health?
Ser.
Most certainly Madam,
Bel.
Ile see him instantly.
So prethee tell him.
Exit Ser.
Mer.
I yeeld my selfe too weake
In argument to oppose you: you may leade me
Whither you please.
Leo.
'Tis answer'd like my Sister;
And if in him you finde not ample cause
To pray for me, and daily on your knees,
Conclude I have no judgement.
Mer.
May it prove so:
Friend, shall we have your company?
Bel.
Two houres hence
I will not faile you.
Leo.
At your pleasure Madam.
Exit Leo. and Mer.
Enter Euphanes.
Bel.
Could I in one word speake a thousand welcomes
(And hearty ones) you have 'em: Fie, my hand,
We stand at no such distance, by my life
The parting kisse you tooke before your travell
Is yet a virgin on my lips, preserv'd
With as much care as I would doe my fame,
To entertaine your wish'd returne.
Euph.
Best Lady,
That I doe honour you, and with as much reason
As ever man did vertue; that I love you,
Yet looke upon you with that reverence
As holy men behold the Sun, the Starrs,
The Temples, and their gods, they all can witnesse;
And that you have deserv'd this duty from me;
The life, and meanes of life, for which I owe you,
Commands me to professe it, since my fortune
Affords no other payment.
Bel.
Good Euphanes, where benefits are ill conferr'd,
I had thought,
That for the trifling courtesies as I call them,
3
Made ample satisfaction in th'acceptance,
And therefore did presume you had brought home
Some other Language.
Euph.
No one I have learn'd
Yeelds words sufficient to expresse your goodnesse;
Nor can I ever chuse another theame
And not be thought unthankfull.
Bel.
Pray you no more
As you respect me.
Euph.
That charme is too powerfull
For me to disobey it; 'Tis your pleasure,
And not my boldnesse Madam.
Bel.
Good Euphanes,
Beleeve I am not one of those weak Ladies,
That (barren of all inward worth) are proud
Of what they cannot truly call their owne,
Their birth or fortune, which are things without them,
Nor in this will I imitate the world,
Whose greater part of men think when they give
They purchase bondmen, not make worthy friends:
By all that's good I sweare, I never thought
My great estate was an addition to me,
Or that your wants took from you.
Euph.
There are few
So truly understanding or themselves
Or what they doe possesse.
Bel.
Good Euphanes,
Where benefits
Are ill conferr'd, as to unworthy men,
That turne them to bad uses, the bestower
For wanting judgement how, and on whom to place them,
Is partly guilty: but when we do favours
To such as make them grounds on which they build
Their noble actions, there we improve our fortunes
To the most faire advantage. If I speake
Too much, though I confesse I speak well,
Prethee remember 'tis a womans weaknesse,
And then thou wilt forgive it.
Euph.
You speake nothing
But what would well become the wisest man:
And that by you deliver'd is so pleasing
That I could heare you ever.
Bel.
Fly not from
Your word, for I arrest it: and will now
Expresse my selfe a little more, and prove
That whereas you professe your selfe my debtor,
That I am yours.
Euph.
Your Ladiship then must use
Some Sophistry I ne're heard of.
Bel.
By plaine reasons,
For looke you, had you never sunk beneath
Your wants, or if those wants had found supply
From Crates, your unkinde and covetous brother,
Or any other man, I then had miss'd
A subject upon which I worthily
Might exercise my bounty: whereas now
By having happy opportunity
To furnish you before, and in your travells,
With all conveniencies that you thought usefull,
That Gold which would have rusted in my Coffers
Being thus imploy'd, has rendred me a partner
In all your glorious actions. And whereas
Had you not been, I should have di'd a thing
Scarce knowne, or soone forgotten: there's no Trophy
In which Euphanes for his worth is mentioned,
But there you have been carefull to remember,
That all the good you did came from Beliza.
Euph.
That was but thankfulnesse.
Bel.
'Twas such an honour,
And such a large returne for the poore trash.
I ventur'd with you, that if I should part
With all that I possesse, and my selfe too
In satisfaction for it, 'twere still short
Of your deservings.
Euph.
You o're-prize them Madam.
Bel.
The Queen her selfe hath given me gracious thanks
In your behalfe, for she hath heard Euphanes
How gallantly you have maintain'd her honour
In all the Courts of Greece: and rest assur'd,
(Though yet unknown) when I present you to her,
Which I will doe this evening, you shall finde
That she intends good to you.
Euph.
Worthiest Lady,
Since all you labour for is the advancement
Of him that will live ever your poore servant,
He must not contradict it.
Bel.
Here's your Brother,
'Tis strange to see him here.
Enter Crates.
Cra.
You are welcome home Sir,
(Your pardon Madam) I had thought my house,
Considering who I am, might have been worthy
Of your first visit.
Euph.
'Twas not open to me
When last I saw you; and to me 'tis wonder
That absence which still renders men forgotten
Should make my presence wish'd for.
Bel.
That's not it,
Your too kinde Brother understanding that
You stand in no need of him, is bold to offer
His entertainment.
Cra.
He had never wanted,
Or yours, or your assistance, had he practiz'd
The way he might have tooke, to have commanded
What ever I call mine,
Euph.
I studied many,
But could finde none.
Cra.
You would not finde your selfe Sir,
Or in your selfe what was from you due to me:
The priviledge my birth bestow'd upon me
Might challenge some regard.
Euph.
You had all the Land Sir,
What else did you expect? and I am certaine
You kept such strong Guards to preserve it yours
I could force nothing from you.
Cra.
Did you ever
Demand helpe from me?
Euph.
My wants have, and often,
With open mouthes, but you nor heard, nor saw them;
May be you look'd I should petition to you
As you went to your Horse; flatter your servants,
To play the Brokers for my furtherance,
Sooth your worse humours, Act the Parasite
On all occasions, write my name with theirs
That are but one degree remov'd from slaves,
Be drunk when you would have me, then wench with you,
Or play the Pander; enter into Quarrels
Although unjustly grounded, and defend them
Because they were yours; these are the tyrannies
Most younger Brothers groane beneath; yet beare them
From the insulting Heire, selling their freedomes
At a lesse rate then what the State allowes,
The sallary of base and common Strumpets:
For my part, ere on such low termes I feed
Upon a Brothers trencher, let me dye
4
Cra.
'Tis bravely spoken,
Did what you doe ranke with it.
Bel.
Why, what does he
You would not wish were yours?
Cra.
Ile tell you Lady,
Since you rise up his Advocate, and boldly,
(For now I finde, and plainly, in whose favour
My love and service to you was neglected)
For all your wealth, nay, adde to that your beauty,
And put your vertues in if you have any,
I would not yet be pointed at, as he is,
For the fine Courtier, the womans man,
That tells my Lady stories, dissolves riddles,
Ushers her to her Coach, lyes at her feet
At sollemne Maskes, applauding what she laughs at;
Reads her asleep a nights, and takes his oath
Upon her Pantossles, that all excellence
In other Madams doe but zany hers:
These you are perfect in, and yet these take not
Or from your birth or freedome.
Euph.
Should another
Say this, my deeds, not lookes should shew—
Bel.
Contemne it:
His envie faines this, and he's but reporter,
Without a second, of his owne dry fancies.
Cra.
Yes Madam, the whole City speakes it with me,
And though it may distaste, 'tis certaine you
Are brought into the sceane, and with him censur'd;
For you are given out for the provident Lady,
That not to be unfurnish'd for her pleasures
(As without them to what vaine use is greatnesse)
Have made choyce of an able man, a young man
Of an Herculean back to doe you service,
And one you may command too, that is active,
And does what you would have him.
Bel.
You are foule mouth'd.
Cra.
That can speake well, write Verses too, and good ones,
Sharp and conceited, whose wit you may lie with
When his performance failes him; one you have
Maintain'd abroad to learne new waies to please you,
And by the gods you well reward him for it,
No night (in which while you lye sick and panting)
He watches by you but is worth a tallent:
No conference in your Coach which is not paid with
A scarlet Suit; this the poore people mutter,
Though I beleeve, for I am bound to doe so,
A Lady of your youth, that feeds high too,
And a most exact Lady, may doe all this
Out of a vertuous love, the last bought vizard
That Leachery purchas'd.
Euph.
Not a word beyond this,
The reverence I owe to that one wombe
In which we both were embrions, makes me suffer
What's past; but if continued—
Bel.
Stay your hand,
The Queene shall right mine honour.
Cra.
Let him doe it,
It is but marrying him; and for your anger
Know that I slight it: when your Goddesse here
Is weary of your sacrifice, as she will be,
You know my house, and there amongst my servants
Perhaps youl finde a livery.
Exit.
Bel.
Be not mov'd,
I know the rancour of his disposition,
And turne it on himselfe by laughing at it,
And in that let me teach you.
Euph.
I learne gladly.
Exeunt.
| The Queene of Corinth | |