 | The Fair Favorite |  |
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter Oramont, Amadore.Amadore.
Without the use of my Commission, Sir,
The courteous Radegond procur'd me from
The King, a Licence for my stay,
Which I believe may last, as long as you
Shall think my service fit for your command.
Ora.
In this disease of grief, that poysons all
My blood, and strives to taint my heart, no help
From Heaven could keep me living Amadore,
But the most precious cordial of thy love.
Ama.
I wish (Sir) you would stop the current of
Your doubts, unless you were provok'd by
More receiv'd authority, then Mens reports:
Two of the lesser whisperers; that rule
But at a distance 'bout the King,
To make a friendship with you, have this morn
Reveal'd all others secrets to you, and their own.
Ora.
They've overcharg'd mine ear; were I to meet
Them now, I would be deaf.
Ama.
Could they discover ought that will detect
Your sister by such reasons, as her friends
Must needs allow, as well as enemies.
Ora.
Last night the King i'th' dark, and unattended too,
Stole to her Chamber, where he staid until
The morn did seem most bashfully to blush
In's face, but then return'd to his own Bed,
As secretly, and single as before.
Ama.
Unless your judgment be severe and nice,
What can it urge from this?
Ora.
Enough to cause thee hate her too, when thou
Shalt read those Coments which observers make,
His secret visits; and his favors to her
Have perfected so much the suff'rings of
The Queen, as now, that Patience, which
Before was but necessitously kind, is grown
Most willingly devout.
Ama.
'Tis strange to me!
Ora.
Sir, though affliction at the first, doth vex
Most vertuous natures, from the sence, that 'tis
Unjustly laid; yet when th'amazement which
That new pain brings, is worn away, they then
Embrace oppression strait, with such
Obedient chearfulness, as if it came
From Heaven, not Men.
Ama.
The Queen is then resolv'd?
Ora.
Most strictly Sir; just now she did implore
My aid to that effect.
A shout within.
Ama.
What noise is that?
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My glorious Sister comes abroad to day
I'th' fresh and early breathing of the morn,
She airs her sinful beauty in these walks.
It seems a croud of Slaves, whom in her pride,
And bounteous ostentation, she redeem'd
From Turkish chains, salute her in
Her passage hither, let's hasten from her sight.
Exeunt.
Enter Eumena, Gartha, Ladies, Phylenio, Radegond, Saladine, Thorello, Aleran, Old Courtiers, Captain, and Suitors with Petitions.
Eume.
Yond' Slaves; are they of Corsica, or those
Of Maltha, which I bought from the Gallies of Argiers?
Radeg.
Of Maltha (Madam) whom you last redeem'd.
Eume.
Go back, and let the Provost know, they must
Be cloath'd, and bid my Auditor give
Them a thousand Crowns, but pray
Prevent their loud return of thanks.
Exit an old Courtier.
Radeg.
Madam, I beg your goodness would procure
The Genouesse may be dismiss'd without
A Tax upon his Goods; you will oblige
A noble family.
Eume.
It shall be done.
Phyle.
The Treasurer o'th' Customs doth present
His humble suit unto your gracious care, and hopes
The Pattent for the place, may be renew'd.
Eume.
My Lord, he hath too hastily enlarg'd
His Lands: He toils, and reckons for the King,
But gathers for himself. I dare not mov't.
Sal.
The Abbot of Cajeta (Madam) sends
His Brother here, to be protected by
Your favor, in his first request.
He presents a Suitor to her.
Eume.
I know your business, Sir,
The Chancellor of Cuma's dead; and for
Regard unto your Brothers Piety,
I'll strive you may succeed in that command.
Other Suitors present Petitions.
You Sir, have got the common hope to help
An evil cause with importunity:
Pray trouble me no more.—
Thor.
This (Madam) is a Captain of Puteoli,
A modest and a valiant Man; he sues
For his arrears since the last War.
Eume.
I shall deserve his trust; and see it paid.
Exeunt all but Saladine, Thorello, Aleran.
Thor.
Here Gallants, you must make a stop; for still
The Privy Lodging doors are shut, to wit,
Greatness doth love't, at distance, but not neer,
'Tis held too sharp a spie.
Sal.
How lovingly
Yon Brace of Lords, hug, and consent before
The publick Face, as they were Twins, and now
(Grown old) would both pursue but equal hopes;
Yet th'are of diff'rent Factions, Aleran.
Thor.
Right Sir, and hate each other with
As true devout a heart, as over-zealous fools
That differ in their Faiths.
Aler.
'Twere good the King would reconcile
These civil factions in his Court.
Sal.
You must excuse him (Sir) the King's too wise,
He'd so deprive his ears of those complaints,
Which utter'd sev'rally in dull revenge,
Furnish his knowledge with their secret faults.
Thor.
How Aleran! Talk of attoning factions here.
I tell thee, 'tis not profitable for
The King, that they should reconcile themselves;
For in good troth, they seldom do't but at
His charge, since they begin that friendship still
With mutual courtesies of begging Suits,
One for the other, till both sides grow rich
In their new truce, by kindly cozening him.
Enter Old Courtiers.
Sal.
Look there! the rev'rend waiters are return'd;
The living Furniture o'th'Court, though spent with age;
Yet such his Highness Grandsire never bought,
But they paid deerly for their places Sir,
And so bought him.
Thor.
Good faithful Squires!
Their everlasting business is, slowly
To move behind, when the King walks; and
When he dines, to stand in a selected croud, as
They would stare him out of count'nance.
Sal.
And yet they take it all, they are not rich.
Thor.
With reason Sir; for they have waited hard,
That is, worn out his Graces Hangings with
Their backs, and with their feet, his Mats. I would
Have Men of Brain and Courage, fill a Court.
Aler.
Come, let's in now, and hear them rail at us.
Exeunt.
Enter Eumena and Gartha.
Eume.
Who is't that's so importunate?
Gar.
Your Brother (Madam) and he brings
A Lady with him, vested like a Nun.
Eume.
Give them admittance, and retire a while.
Exit Gartha.
The choice he makes of his Society,
Is very sad and strange. The Queen disguis'd.
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Ora.
The Blessings of the day (great Sister) are
So much at your command, 'twere idle ceremony
To salute you with a courtly wish.
Eume.
Brother, you look upon my fortunes with a scornful and
A troubled eye, but from your soft temper
(Most illustrious Madam) I expect
Much more then I deserve, a courteous joy
For all I dare possess; since what I am
Your patience onely can allow, and what
I have I prostrate at your feet.
Kneels.
Queen.
Eumena, you deject your self too much, it is my turn
To kneel, that am a suitor to you.
She lifts her up.
Eume.
Forbid (just Heaven) such misbecoming sights,
And give me your forgiveness too, if I
Demand the cause of this attire, that hides
More sanctity within, then it presents without.
Queen.
I dare not trust my griefs to my own tongue;
For so, my patience would be injur'd much,
By narrowly expressing what I bear;
Your noble Brother, justly may assume
My office of complaint, since he hath ta'en
Most charitable pains in my redress.
Ora.
Eumena, happy wert thou in thy ignorance,
Could not thy guilt soon prompt thee how to know
What I am weary to express: The most renow'd
Of all her sex, stands here divided from
Her royal Lord, that sacred knot untied,
By which the righteous have been taught to
Think she grew unto his heart; another sad
Example that might match the fate of this,
Would damn the World; for we should willingly
Believe Religion were no more then form.
Eume.
You powers that are so loth to be discern'd
Appear a while to sence, and let them know
If it be just, that I should be accus'd
For what your selves ordain.
Ora.
Live still triumphant in the Court,
Flatter thy beauty with presuming hope,
It ne'er shall fade; think nature onely weak
(And subject to decay) in Trees, and Flowers;
As if thy Spring could last without her help,
Whil'st this great Type of vertuous Love,
(That vainly is, what others ne'er can imitate)
Retires into a shade, cloister'd i'th' dark
With holy Nuns, hiding her eyes from all
Those shining glories, which th'ambitious seek
Till they are blind.
Eume.
O let me wear that solemn Weed,
And (Madam) stay you here to mend what is
Amiss. Why should you live in a Monastick Cell?
The vertuous need no pattern, since they are
Already what the chief should be, let me
Make trial of that dress.
Ora.
Would you invest your self, i'th' ornaments
Of pious Maids. 'Lass! Vain Sister, that were
To cozen Heaven, as you have cozen'd her.
Eume.
Madam, I'll turn me from that cruel Man,
And sigh away my Soul, if what he says,
Hath any leave from your consent.
Queen.
Your love to me is so injurious (Oramont)
I dare not trust it, till you know
The error of your thoughts; forgive him (fair
Eumena) and so often too, as you
At last may purchase Heaven by pard'ning him.
Ora.
What Angel but her self, could ever
Have such mercy, and such wrongs at once.
Queen.
Rest sure, this solitary shape is not
In envious anger worn, because
The King continues constant to your love,
Your meritorious Beauty had the fate
To be his first kind choice; he does you right,
And me no injury, to let that love
Continue growing where it first took root.
Yet I could wish I ne'er had seen his face,
Or my affection could pursue it less,
Since both my passion, and the object were
Ordain'd to meet too late.
Eume.
Let me reclaim your purpose with my tears,
Leave not the Court: What resolution can
The King assume, but such a strength of vertue
May in time subdue?
Queen.
It were unlawful hope, since then
He needs must heap discourtesies on you.
Ora.
Wonder of Women! and my Souls delight!
Queen.
Enjoy (Eumena) what thou dost possess,
The King! the King! A blessing so Supream,
That I have oft rebuk'd th'ambition of
Desire, when I did dream, that he was mine.
Eume.
O misery of Sence! we are inforc'd to hear
And feel, without the licence of our Will.
Queen.
This I request, when happier hours shall give
Your Beauty, more especial Grace, you would
Entreat him, I may keep my holy Calling still,
And from my Dowre he would allow
So much of's useless treasure, as may build
A little Covent, where the Virgin Sisterhood,
And I, may with our Prayers expiate
The sin against our marriage vow, which he
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Oramont takes Eumena aside.
Ora.
If those be penetential tears, weep on.
Thou shalt behold poor Oramont no more;
For our dear Mothers sake, that prais'd thee with
Her dying tongue, and bless'd us with her last
Cold breath, I will not do thee so much wrong
To wish these sorrows short, or thy life long
Exeunt Oramont and Queen.
Eume.
Must my intire, and lasting innocence
Be still rewarded with a curse, and from
A noble Brother too, whose jealousie
Can ne'er be cur'd, but by my vow'd
Perpetual absence from the Court, which is
A remedy that will destroy the King.
Enter Amadore.
Amad.
This is her Chamber sure!
I watch'd with heed, if
The Queen and Oramont in their return
Took not their straight immediate way from
Hence; I'll make the door secure
To hinder all access—
Eume.
What are you Sir, that rudely press to so reserv'd a place.
Ama.
With wise intent did Oramont detain
Me still from seeing her. She looks as she
Were made to conquer or betray—
Eume.
Why do you gaze with such amazement Sir?
Come you t'admire?
Or scornfully to kill what you behold?
Amad.
T'instruct you who I am,
Know I am proud to
Call my self the friend to Oramont.
Eume.
Was't he that sent you hither?
Amad.
No Lady (by my own contrivance)
I come resolv'd, through all the dangers death
Can minister, to find you here; friendship
Hath given my Resolution strength to meet
Even that, which overcame the valiant King,
Your Beauties force.
Eume.
Discover quickly your intents;
Ere fear distracts my understanding so,
That I shall suffer, and not know the cause.
Amad.
Your Brother thinks your youth defil'd, which breeds
Such a distemper in his Brest, that now
His stronger Sences yield to ev'ry doubt.
This melancholly sickness I would cure,
And can invent no means, so fully fraught
With hope, as to convey you from the Court
In this disguise—
Eume.
Stay. Whither would you lead me Sir? I dare
Not trust my self to furious men:
To me you are a stranger, and may feign
The story of that cause which tempts you so
Untivilly to gain my Brothers love; take heed!
If you abuse the Royal Priviledge
That guards this place, an army call'd
To your defence, cannot secure your life.
Amad.
Danger's a vain, unbody'd blast; let it
Prevail with Infants often frighted in
Their sleep; with Judges grown effeminate
In their warm Furrs; who think most fearfully.
Of death, because 'tis terrible to those
Whom they condemn; with Priests, who at
Their frequent visits, find the sickly in
Despair, that hourly see the guilty die,
And by uncertain faith, derive at last
Their fears unto themselves. To such
As these preach danger, but to me it is
The musick of the Drum, ordain'd to fright
Cowards, but gives the valiant appetite.
Eume.
Is there no help, but what with unprepar'd
Devotion, rudely I must call from Heaven.
Amad.
Delay me not in hope of a surprise,
But strait put on this borrow'd shape, and then
With silence follow me, or on thy heart
My Sword shall spoil the figure of the King.
Draws his Sword.
Eume.
Did I believe, that dying is the worst
You would inforce, I should invite it now.
Kill her—that is most willingly prepar'd.
Amad.
Have you the vanity to be believ'd
So innocent, as that you fear not death
Eume.
Sir, if you think I borrow vertue for
A safe disguise, here I present my Brest.
Amad.
Assemble all your thoughts together, and
Consult within; are there no terrors near
The Grave? No angry Spirits, whose
Imployment is to hurry, and transmit the Soul
From flame to flame, from wind to wind (Poor
Vex'd and weary stranger?) till groaning
With the burden of its long remembred sins,
Shall wish that its too soon forsaken flesh
Were on again.
Eume.
I cannot think of any willing crime,
I e'er committed, that may make me fear
I shall be troubled after death.
Amad.
Yet study more; perhaps I have
Defac'd your memory, with the disorder that
My threats have made.
Eume.
'Tis you are guilty Sir, and may suspect
The confidence you brought, not what you
Find in me; besides my innocence, I have
So many griefs, as may declare I am
Willing enough to die; begin that work,
You thought you could so quickly finish with your sword.
Amad.
Thou but pretendst this vertuous boldness to
Beguile my wrath, receive the just reward
That such hypocrisie provokes.
Eume.
What interrupts you now, why are you slow
To execute, what you did promise with such eager haste.
Amad.
Then she is clear, and I am lost, betray'd,
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Basely to place suspitions on a Saint.
Upon my knee, I beg, you by
Your hasty pardon, would prevent that curse,
That black dishonor, which your Brothers
Jealousie might lay upon your sex.
Knocking at the Door.
Eume.
Hide, hide your self, if you desire to live,
Perchance it is the King.
Amad.
He comes most timely then; for had I power,
I would command him here.
If life will satisfie th'arrears of guilt,
Take it (who e'er thou art) for I will let
Thee in?
Opens the Door.
Enter King.
King.
This (Mistress) is a pretty needless safety,
D'you guard your door with Bolts? Hah! Amadore!
That gave to Oramont his ransome, with
Such brave munificence.
Eume.
Was he the Author of my Brothers liberty,
Then I shall more lament his loss.
King.
How Sir! Your Sword naked, as 'twere drawn
For violent designs! If treacherously
It aims at me, thou shalt have cause to praise
My valor more, then thou dost fear the King.
I will not call for help, but thus unarm'd
I dare resist a Traytors force.
Amad.
Had I not wrong'd that Lady, Sir, with most
Unworthy doubts, then (free from guilt) I
Should have boldness to encounter all assaults,
Though num'rously address'd; but as I am
Th'abuser of her fame, I weakly yield
My weapon to your hand, revenge her cause,
Whom you so nobly love.
Kneels, and gives his Sword.
Eume.
How strangely he becomes this penitence!
O Sir, believe him not, distraction makes
Him own a crime, which he did ne'er commit.
King.
Eumena, he is safe; thou shouldst not think
I'll vanquish him
That overcomes himself; yet it
Is just, I give him to the tryal of
The Laws: for ev'ry circumstance denotes
There is some great rash injury, which sure
Thy goodness labors to conceal.
Amad.
If your strict Laws could punish me with death,
For saucily infringing thus the Peace,
And secret quiet of your Court, I then
Would chearfully commend the doom.
Emue.
For my sake pity (Sir) his madness 'gainst
Himself: Shall he that made my Brother free,
Be fetter'd and confin'd in Bonds?
Amad.
My vile subjection grows more hideous to my sence.
King takes Eumena aside.
King.
Those little Forms that bring authority
Regardful law, and keep it great, should still
Be sullen and severe; 'tis not with Kings
(Eumena) as with lesser Men, that may
In gentle courtesie forgive; for if
The Lord of Laws should complement
With Crimes, the Law it self that makes him safe,
Would be but ceremony thought, and get
No more regard, then as 'tis eloquently writ
Or spoke; believ't, 'tis fit he suffer for
Example onely, to deter the bad.
Eume.
Have you not said, I ne'er should be deny'd?
King.
Y'are wondrous fond of Men that do you wrong:
Is this deriv'd from pity, or from love?
Eume.
There is no pity (Sir) if it be meant
For benefit, and use, but hath
Some little rellish in't of love.
King.
Thou never wert too kind till now. There Sir;
Take back your weapon and be gone, but no
Return of words. Reserve your thanks,
'Cause it belongs to her; and you may guess
(Without offence) that I am loth to hear
She doth oblige another more then me.
Amad.
This favor I would ne'er receive,
Were not I secretly resolv'd to merit it.
Exit Amadore.
King.
Eumena, you are merciful to all
Beneath your self: O that I were no King,
If thy affection onely can discend,
Eume.
Why should old weary Time run on, and make
The World continue that deserves to cease,
Since ev'ry vertue now grows dangerous;
Can you be jealous of my mercy, Sir?
King.
Farewel neglectful Maid; how long have I
Endur'd those narrow payments of thy love,
For mine (bestow'd with such excess) and in
A dull surmise, thou couldst not love at all?
But I (alass) was ignorant of thee,
As Men have ever been of things
Most excellent, making such judgment on
Thy Beauty, as Astronomers on Stars;
Who, when their better use they could not know,
Believ'd that they were onely made for show.
Exeunt severally.
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