 | The Passionate Lover, First Part |  |
1
FIRST PART.
Act. 1.
Scæn. 1.
Enter Lucidor, and Clindor, and a Captain, (severally.)Lucid.
Well met, Clindor.
Clind.
I would it were so.
Lucid.
Why, what misfortune is happened, man?
Clind.
A pox on Fortune, she ne'r was friend of mine;
And now the wars are at end, there's no way left
For men of merit to supply themselves: But cou'd I
2
Lug her Ladiship.
Lu.
Thou mistakest,
And threatnest Opportunity: 'tis she that hath
A lock before, and bald behind; but Fortune is a
Mighty Goddess, and must be reverenc'd.
Cl.
A Quean, a Strumpet by this hand; and she you talk of
Is her Bawd; they pickt my pockets with a pair of
Dice, giving the mony to a Sot, that scarce knew
How to tell it when he had won it.
Lu.
That was ill luck.
Cl.
To lose a months pay in a night, now when I'm
Never like to see another muster, nor hope of booty lost
O I could eat these fingers!
Lu.
Lose not thy patience, and then thy monies
Will not afflict thee.
Cl.
Pray will ye lend me 20 Crowns, and keep it for me.
Lu.
Keep what?
Cl.
My patience.
Lu.
Thou hast none.
Cl.
To what end then was your grave advice,
My great Foolosopher! stand by.
Enter Senor and Stremon.
Sen.
Believe me, if the insolencie of these Commanders
That are come back with the Prince be not restrain'd,
This Court, best ordered in the world,
Will grow to Barbarism and shame our Nation,
Chiefly us that should keep all in form.
Str.
My Lord, take heed whilst you too much study
A regularity, you not forget the proper time:
The Court is yet a kind of Camp, a place of free access,
3
Whose cheerful rays give life to all.
Clind.
Wil't please your Lordship to buy a Virtue of me?
Sen.
Sure I believe 'tis a very beggerly one.
Cl.
Your Lordship's a witch; 'tis Patience indeed,
The beggers virtue; you shall have it for 20 crowns.
Sen.
Sirra, this sawciness may in time
Procure you the beggers punishment
To exercise your virtue, A whip.
Clind.
Hum, a whip!
Lu.
Your Lordships reply was by much too harsh
For harmless merriment, and argues you
Of a proud dogged nature.
Sen.
Pray teach not me to speak, my Lord,
Until I go about to teach you how to fight.
Lu.
I would your formal Lordship wore a sword,
I should most gladly learn.
Sen.
I do not want when I intend to wear one.
Lu.
Certain you do, pray put it on against
I see you next, let this remember you.
Puls him by the nose.
Sen.
What insolence is this?
Clind.
My Lord fight with him, or by this hand
Ye have got my patience, and you shall pay me for't.
Sen.
How now you base Rascal!
Enter Agenor, Cleon, and Attendants.
Age.
Who's that he calls so?
Lu.
One sir, that I have seen do bravely in the wars.
Age.
The attribute was very course:
Sir, you must know those whom I call fellows
In arms, and who for you and me, and all
Have spent their bloods, must meet with better
Recompence then contumelious words.
'Tis such as you that buz into my Fathers ears
4
Or little to any soldier; and this not as good husbands
For your master, but your selves, that your shares
May be greater.
Sen.
I hope your Highness will on better knowledge
Change this hard opinion.
Cle.
I dare engage my self, your Highness
May absolutely dispose my Lord.
Age.
Since you esteem him as a friend, I should not
Be displeased to have cause to believe it.
Cle.
The occasion is only wanting, Sir.
Age.
Well my Lord, if it prove so, I know how
To reward those that serve me. Go Lucidor
And enquire if my Father be ready yet.
Sen.
If it please your Majesty, I shall.
Age.
You forget, my Lord,
That title is only due to my Father.
Clind.
To whom he had so great a mind to make complaint,
That he forgot himself.
Age.
Let him complain: Those that are mine I will secure.
Clind.
Who are not such, deserve not your protection.
Age.
There, share that purse betwixt you; I'l go.
Be to night at my chamber at 9 a clock: now leave us.
Clind.
The Gods bless your Highness.
Lucid.
What say you now to the old Beldam, is she not kind?
(manent Age. Cleon.
Clind.
She durst do no other.
[Exeunt.
Cleon.
Sir, as I told you, upon my knowledge
Your Father is possest with a belief
That your late victories and custom of commanding
In the Army, hath made you quite forget
How to obey; and Sir, to humble you, your greatest Captains
Do receive daily affronts.
5
My Captains! even my self do feel their injuries.
My needful bounty's censured prodigality,
My courtesie insinuations; and all
What I have ever learnt for good or commendable
Turn to my prejudice: Nothing, I see,
Can please my Father, or free me from suspition,
Unless I prove my self or base, or foolish.
Cleon.
The present affairs, sir, of this Kingdom
Call for a man both wise and valiant:
Such I must say you are; nor is this needful truth
Thus timely urged, to be esteemed a flattery,
Though spoken to your self. Your father, sir, was what you are;
But now time and infirmities have brought him
Near to what we truly might call dotage
In a meaner man. And is it reasonable
You should stand by an idle looker on,
Whilst his weak or false Councellors and he
Make peace or war with foreign States,
Dispose of government and Offices at home,
Not on the best deserver, but the greatest briber,
Or such a Lords particular friend or kinsman.
Age.
Truth is, I do appear now at home of no esteem:
Even those Princes lately made subject
By my sweat and blood, no one of their Ambassadors
Makes any particular address to me.
Cle.
'Twere madness if they should,
The certain way to miss their ends; no sir,
Your younger brother Clarimant is the known
Powerful Advocate for favors from the King;
And for the Prince himself, and power,
Are both laid prostrate at the feet
Of his fair Cousin the Lady Clorinda.
Age.
Does she not deserve to be obeyed?
6
Doubtless no Virgin lives that equals her in merit:
And yet 'tis possible the Prince may have
Another end besides her personal worth,
Which makes him court her.
Age.
What end?
Cle.
You know, sir, at least must needs have heard
Her ancestors have been pretenders to this Crown,
And time hardly wears out the right of Princes.
Age.
'Tis true, hardly where right;
But a pretension not then prosperous,
Neither lives but to shame the undertakers memory
But were it otherwise in this particular,
I durst trust my brother, indeed in any,
For I know his love to me is firm.
Cle.
Sir, 'tis a noble confidence in you,
Nor would I seek to change that quiet peace
That lodges in your mind, for a worse guest, suspition
But if I do not freely speak my fears,
I shall be guilty of a treason to my Prince
And friend. Your brother, sir, fosters ambitious hopes
And howsoe'r you slight Clorinda's title,
That is their chiefest nourishment.
Age.
It is impossible.
Cle.
If I should tell you, some believe your father
Holds what I have said, is conscious that he
Does keep the Crown by wrong, and so would
By a marriage set all strait; this would exact
A greater faith then you, I know, can yet allow.
Age.
'Tis true, for this implies my disinheriting
The falshood of my brother, nay something more
Then this, which I may chance one day to tell you freely:
But now I live curbed in my person,
Nay my thoughts pent up, when I would ease
My heart by uttering them.
7
Enlarge your self each way.
Age.
Oh I must not
Cle.
Then I will for you. My grief to see my Country
Lose the advantage of your best of years
For action, makes me speak plain and home,
Though to the hazard of my head, if you mislike
The councel; nor will I put you upon danger,
And not share it with you?
Age.
What is't you mean? I am confident you love me.
Cle.
As I do happiness, which is included
In your knowledge of my faith and love.
Age.
Speak then.
Cle.
In short 'tis this:
Propose a war in Germany, raise a great Army,
Live there a King, since here you cannot.
Age.
My father never will consent.
Cle.
Where's that Souldier or Commander, will not obey
Your summons?
Age.
To raise an Army, my Father not allowing it,
Were treason; which once proclaim'd, would startle
The most resolute.
Cle.
Scarce a man, if you should on the contrary
Make known what your intents were for your Countries
Honor and profit.
Age.
But in the mean time should they seise my person?
Cle.
But in the mean time should you seise your
Fathers person, which is sure much easier to do.
There's but few Nations that adore the setting sun;
The braver spirits do attend his rise,
And hope to mount with him aloft.
Age.
Though I confess I willingly would aid
My Fathers feeble arm to hold the scepter right,
I would not force it from his hands.
8
Two hands upon one scepter, men will interpret
Violence; however since 'twas ordain'd in one,
If violence at all, let it be powerful in effect:
The happy issue then may change the attribute
To providence care of the present & the future states.
Age.
It is an affair of a high consequence,
Pray see me in the morning, I must take time
To think—
Exit.
Cle.
Do Prince, 'tis my desire, since thought
Must make that poison work, I have distill'd
Into thy soul; the compounds are so strong
And operative, that it must cause destruction
To thy self, father, or brother, if not all.
But soft: much time, and many dangers
Must be past, ere I can hope to touch that happy
Period; the part I long have acted
Must be still maintain'd; a seeming faithful
Servant to the father and his sons,
By each believ'd so tender of their safeties
And their honour, as if I had no sense
Of what concern'd the other two.
The grounds thus laid, and mutual jealousies growing
In each, I am secured from a discovery
By any general conference of theirs:
Nay, should an intimacie hold, as 'tis not like,
Betwixt the brothers, yet am I still secure
By their own nobleness, scorning to tell Councels
The secrets of an Enemy, much less reveal these of a friend,
Which when I do, I shal no other but my self betray;
Friendship's an useful word, the substance thrown away.
Exit.
Enter Clindor, Selina.
Clind.
Nay, Lady, if you flie, being so able to defend,
9
I'le make good this ground, proud of my purchase;
I know 'tis of such value, that the restoring
Will press you to another parly.
Sel.
Why think you so? To lose your company withall,
Will make the loss of any thing I have about me insensible.
Clind.
Make good your word; change but your maidenhead
For this; and if I ever trouble you again—
Sel.
O insolence! can you believe that such a jewel
Is reserv'd for you? you may as well by your small
Single valor hope to surprise the strongest fort.
Clind.
Nay perhaps sooner, Lady; may be you
Know the first impossible.
Sel.
I know 'tis impossible you should be other
Then a rude Soldier.
Clind.
True, whilst you are an uncivil Lady,
'Tis wisdom to frame our selves like to the company
We wish to keep.
Sel.
Indeed I must confess you put upon me in this seeming
Censure, a mighty obligation: your words imply as much,
As if I would be wicked, you for conformity
Would be so too; in troth I do not doubt it:
But that you can as well conform yourself to better
Images, is that I have no reason to believe.
Clind.
From these your hard opinions, yet in a milder phrase
Exprest, judge charitably, that my disrespect
Is likewise lessening: And certain, Lady,
So many beauties as shew themselves about your
Person, were gifts the Gods repented of,
Which made them place a soul whose pride might tel the world
It was a goodly Temple built to shew their power,
But not to share their adoration.
10
I see you are an experienc'd Soldier,
And are not without stratagems, making your
Battery on the weakest side. You praise the beauty
Of my person, and dispraise my mind:
That too for what we almost hold a vertue, (pride)
Grant us but fair, whate're we seem, it is
Impossible we should be angry.
Clind.
No more of these ingenious confessions, Lady,
Lest I become Apostate from my old religion,
And believe there may be other beauties in your sex
Then what the eye surveys.
Sel.
I am wondrous sorry if I have said any thing
To gain your good opinion.
Enter Clarimant and Clorinda.
Cli.
O fear not, Lady, I am not so much taken yet
To trouble you with lamentable verses,
Or blow the candle out with sighs: breaking my buttons
After a full meal,'s the highest I can reach to: I assure you,
Methinks that Princely pattern is scarce worth
The following. The King!
Enter Old King, Cleon, Senor, Stremon.
O. K.
I see you lose no opportunity to become
Gracious with the Ladies, I like it well;
Your brother's more unnatural, and courts the men.
Cle.
The men of action, sir, he does indeed.
O. K:
The men of turbulencie and ambition:
But I shall check his and their haughty spirits.
Cle.
Let what you do, sir, be with moderation,
He's of a fierce nature, and can ill endure
Reproof, however just.
O. K.
Fierce nature! shall I observe a boy?
I am his father and his King; and what he fails
In duty to the one, the other shall inforce him
To confess and satisfie.
11
'Tis just indeed.
O. K.
And being so, I must not fear to let him know
His faults.
[Enter Agenor and Lucidor]
Now sir, what would you with us?
Age.
I must not hope, sir, you will grant the suit
I come to move, until I see your brow more calm.
O. K.
If you mislike these looks, remove the cause.
Age.
Perhaps it is not, sir, in me, but in your self:
There are some waters where the billows rise
Though no cross winds do blow; Earthquakes are in
Another kind the same, the causes dark,
And yet not more then are your groundless distastes
From whence this tempest grows.
O. K.
Your words explain your actions, and your actions them:
From both you do conclude my weakness,
And your innocence from fault.
Age.
The latter is, and still hath been my study:
Shew me wherein, sir, I have err'd,
In what I have deserved your hard opinion:
Till when I would not, sir, by asking pardon
Create a guilt.
O. K.
I know you rather do expect that I should sue to you,
And I will do it. Pray give me leave to be
A King some few years more; you know
I shall not trouble you when your turn comes.
Clorind.
Dear servant, I find my self not well.
Clari.
Heaven forbid!
Exeunt Clor. Clari.
Age.
Sir, I do find your age is wrought upon
By some unworthy men, who for their own ends
Keep me from that interest nature and reason
Ought to yield me in your love; which since
I cannot hope from you by my true service,
(Still misinterpreted) I scorn to seek
To gain it by a flattery of them.
12
I know those whom I favour,
Are for that cause the objects of your hate.
And 'tis not strange, that having forfeited
Much of your own obedience, you should mislike
Their faithfulness.
Age.
I see, sir, 'tis in vain to plead a cause
Already judg'd against me: Cunning
Weighs down my interest in your blood.
I came, sir, with a hope to obtain some suits
For others, which now reason commands me to let fall,
And rather beg what I am only likely to obtain.
O. K.
What's that, I pray?
Age.
Your leave, sir, to retire
My self, to free your Majesty
And me both from disturbance.
O. K.
You ask and grant your self, 'tis well.
Exeunt Agen. Lucid. Clind.
Cle.
Sir, that retirement he intends,
Grows not from duty, but ambition.
Out of that cloud ere long he means to break
Forth gloriously; the world, sir, cannot admit
More then one Sun; and he's resolved to shine,
Though nature suffer in it.
O. K.
It was still my fear, you have no other proofs
But your conjecture.
Cleon.
I would I had not, sir; but such my love is to your Majesty,
That to preserve the Royal stem, I must not fear
To hazard breaking a corrupted branch.
At more convenience I shall inform you.
Exeunt King, Cleon, Attendants.
Sen.
The King is old and sickly, inconstant by nature;
And we must, whilst this heat of passion lasts,
Work for our safety by the Princes ruine.
If he should come to reign, our power, if not our lives,
13
And prosperous under his brother Clarimant,
Who is of a soft and gentle nature,
Apt to be governed.
Stre.
Especially when it shall appear
We have both will and power to serve him
In attaining to the Crown.
Senor.
Perhaps Lord Cleon does resolve the same,
And he's a man of power and blood; we being join'd
How can we miss our end,
Since the whole Court does on us three depend?
Exeunt.
Enter Clarimant and Clorinda:
Clar.
Dear Lady, do not welcom sadness thus:
Trust me, it is an ill mannered guest,
And seldom leaves us; though we grow weary
Of its company, and wish it gone.
Clor.
Not to be sensible when there is cause,
Would shew stupidity.
Clar.
Wise men affirm there is no cause of sorrow
But for offending heaven.
Clor.
These strengths of mind you Men enjoy,
Are certain to our weaker sex denied.
Clar.
Alas, but I am none of those;
For if you grieve, I cannot be exempted.
Clor.
Would I had kept my troubles to my self then!
I would not have them grow by being guilty
Of infecting you.
Clar.
A sympathie with you for what concerns my self,
Though it be grief to me, is pleasing.
Clor.
I must not say so much for you;
And yet this is the only time I ever wisht
Your absence: pray sir be pleased to leave me
To my self.
14
And 'tis the only time I ever durst seem
Disobedient; be but your self, and I will leave you
But whilst you are in bondage,
A prisoner to your grief, I must not.
Clo.
Ye are cruel in your kindness, sir,
And tie me faster: A ransom of my tears
Being plentifully paid, perhaps may free me;
And whilst you stay, shame bars me from the trial.
Cla.
I would not see you weep; for if your tears
Were shed in vain, it would call in question
My religion, as having paid my vows
To powers insensible.
Clo.
Take heed, sweet Prince, you do not jest your self
Into idolatry, and over-act that part you personate;
To please a brother; that were a guilt
Neither your tears nor mine can expiate,
Cla.
I fear your warning comes too late for me.
Clo.
I hope I understand you not.
Cla.
You do not Lady, nor I my self,
For I have spoke I know not what: shame forces
An obedience, which your commands could not.
All peace of mind wait on you.
Enter Agenor.
Stay brother, whither so fast? I came to seek you,
Stay—
Cla.
Not for the world, and pray henceforth
Let us not injure truth.
Exit.
Age.
What means this?
Clo.
My Lord, I know not well, some discontent.
Age.
Are we alone? is there no other eye but that of
Heaven beholds us?
Clo.
None that I know.
Age.
Blest opportunity! still I am fearful; for your sake
I would not have our loves discover'd now by chance
Which with such art and care hath been so long
15
Clo.
I would it had been so from him too, sir:
Age.
Why do you fear he will discover us?
Clo.
O no sir, but—
Age.
But what?
Clo.
The gods were witness enough for me, sir,
'Twere my glory, were it known; if in your fortune
But a slave, I should with joy proclaim to all
The world what your interest were in me:
But for your sake, considering how your father
Frowns already, I scarce dare to my self
Whisper the joy of being yours.
Age.
My father! let not that trouble you,
We will be free as he ere long, and our commands
Better obeyed.
Clo.
O speak not again my fears! how sir? better obeyed!
Age.
By those that love me, and will live and die with me.
Clo.
Die with you, sir! why should that come in question?
Age.
Only as an expression of my friends affection.
Clo.
But sir, were all men what they seem,
That which I fear you do intend, is that
Which heaven cannot approve; take heed of disobedience, sir.
Age.
Why doest thou plead against thy self, against thy joyes
And mine? Now as I am, I dare not look on these
Bright eyes, the comforts of my life, nor touch this hand,
These lips, not speak but by the assistance
Of my brother.
Clo.
This is a freedom, sir, modesty could not allow
Did we oft meet; and as it is, do not again
Expect it.
16
Why, dearest, are you so nice? you do not love me:
Your hand you will not sure refuse me.
Clo.
I shall, sir, if you presume upon an opportunity
Age.
You never did deny that favor to my brother
As my substitute.
Clo.
It is confest, and that in publike too,
More willingly I there would grant him any modest
Favor, then here to you in private.
Age.
That's strange.
Clo.
Do we not often give those praises to a person
Absent, which modesty would make us blush
To speak unto himself?
Age.
It seems I must be only favored by attorny.
Clo.
Not so; the mind being the noblest part,
I'st not enough if that be happy?
Age.
Yes, if it could subsist without a body:
Which since it cannot, dearest mistres, if you'll be just,
The beauties of your person must in some measure
Satisfie the flames that they create.
Offers to kiss her.
Clo.
Sir, I believe you will not think 'tis a forc'd modesty
That I put on; though I should tell you I am not pleas'd
At all to be alone with you, yet how much
I do love you, it were in vain to speak.
That love enjoins, as you will keep your faith
To me, not to disturb the quiet of your Father
And this Kingdom, likely to be yours;
Do not expect to find them faithful in the time
To come, to whom you shall teach falshood
By your own example.
Age.
Happily I have no such design; we are ingrate
To fortune and to Love, in spending this happy
Opportunity on any other subject
Then what may tend unto his glory.
17
I see, Sir, I must leave you, or my modesty.
Age.
Dear do not frown; pardon those faults
Your beauties and my love engage me in.
Clo.
Should I grant that for an excuse sufficient,
Where should we find a guilty or immodest person,
Since all immoderate desires do find a beauty
In their object, which promises a pleasure
By enjoying? My love then yours is of a purer
Kind, and fit it should, as growing from
A nobler cause, your greater merit:
Be witness heaven, I never yielded yet
To any thought or motion, wherein your happiness
Had not precedence.
Age.
Should I pretend to what you do appropriate,
The greatest love, 'twould shew presumption.
Yet here I offer what you dare not perform
To me, a free unlimited disposing
Of my person and my will.
Clo.
I take you at your word; and though your
Humble servant, as a Mistress do impose
These two commands: Be modest in your love,
And patient in your expectation of a Crown;
Let all things be mature and ripen'd to perfection,
Then they are sweet and lovely; but on the
Contrary, many infirmities accompany
Abortive births, seldom or never lasting.
She offers to go away:
Age.
Sure you will not leave me thus.
Clo.
Yes sir, I must,
The greatness of my love commands me,
Remember your promise.
Age.
You do express it strangely;
Would you stay longer, if you loved me less?
Clo.
With much more confidence. I tremble, sir, lest
Some unwelcom person should find us here
Alone; if there were company with whom you
Might discourse, I should stand by and hear you
18
Now apprehension of discovery takes away
All pleasure from me.
Age.
If we must ever live with this constraint upon us,
Where are the joys of love? It rests not sure
Alone in being beloved, but in possession.
He that despairs in love, hath a more happy fate
Then I: You do not love me sure; what have I
More then words to build my faith upon?
If you have pitty in you, be more kind,
Or free me from my last engagement.
Clo.
Not for a million.
Age.
Trust me, I shall not hold my self sufficiently
Obliged, unless I seal my promise on your lip.
Clo.
He that will break his word, no other tie
Can hold him.
Age.
Yet never any fearful Creditor
(Such you appear to be) refused an Obligation.
Clo.
This is the last you ever as a Mistress
Shall receive from me.
Age.
May your last words prove happily prophetick!
Clo.
Think on your promise, sir.
Exit.
Age.
I do; so sweet was the engagement,
That whilst I think on it, even then
It prompts me to the breaking, the only way
For to attain a greater bliss in her. Promises
Made in prejudice of Love, I should be most profane
To keep; nor can she be offended, however fear
And modesty in her forbad me to attempt.
Power, and her dear Embraces, are alike
The objects of my soul: shall danger then make me retire?
No, danger thrusts me on, and tells me there's no safety
But in arms, which well imployed, cancels my fault
Unto my father, and smooths Clorinda's brow:
19
On disobedience that presents a Crown.
Exit:
| The Passionate Lover, First Part | |