University of Virginia Library


101

THE THIRD ACT.

Enter Aurelio, and others, as receiving with joy, Zelidaura, with her Roselinda, in Tartaria.
Zel.
This is t'entrap me; well, my Foot
Within the City I'll not put,
Till a full Tryal make it clear,
Whether things are, as they appear.

Aur.
Great Madam, 'tis enough the Realm
Thy secret wand'ring did incline
To murmur at thee, and repine;
Our Pilot absent from the Helm.
But, to be censur'd once disloyal,
TARTARIA merits not. What Tryal
Would'st thou have more, than the Applause
And Joy, which thy Return doth cause;

102

Both this, which meets thee on the Bounds;
And that, which from yon Walls resounds?
Though, as to lighting us, some time,
Abscence eclips'd thee to our Clime;
Not as to Influence; for, to Faith,
No Back at all a SOV'RAIGN hath.
Since the false news did thee no harm,
And now thy Beams TARTARIA warm;
This Errour's debtor we remain,
For giving us our Queen again,
Enter the City (we implore)
Nor let thy Anger cost it more.

Zel.
First, in that Rural Palace hid with Bow'rs,
I'll rest—But what's this noyse?

Rif.
Help, Heav'nly Pow'rs!
Trumpets.
Within a great noyse of Swords.
The World sinks with their stroaks.

Zel.
Make hast, hast make.

Enter Felisbravo and Claridoro fighting, and much People endeavouring to part them, and with them the General, Rifaloro, and a Captain.
Fel.
Now, on thy treach'ry will I take
A full Revenge.

Claro.
Now, on thy Head
Shall be reveng'd what I have bled.

Zel.
Rule me those Swords, two lives defend,
Which th'Owners prodigally spend.
(O Heavens!)—

Fel.
Leave, of all his Train,
Not one alive.

Gen.
Cowards, in vain
Ye muster Regiments of Hares:
The more you are, the more your fears.

Aur.
What Fury! Tide encounters Tide.
(Vain Labour!)

Rif.
I am by thy side:
None of your petty Clownlings, we;
The Bombast of a Comedie.


103

Zel.
Part them, I say. The two that fight
Are Claridoro, and the Knight
Of the Picture.

Rif.
There's thy score—
Rifaloro hits one of them.
No fencing it with Rifalore.

The Knights are parted.
Fel.
That, e're so many People came,
I kill'd him not; I blush for shame.

Claro.
That I, by these should hind'red be
From killing him, it vexes me.

Capt.
Both are hurt.

Zel.
The Stranger bear
First to be Cur'd: And, Officer,
Quarter him in the Mansion
Of Laura's Father, Coridon.

Capt.
I shall.

Zel.
Prince Claridoro too
(Whose Life I fear less of the two)
Place in an equal Quarter near.

Aur.
I shall.

Zel.
Before you go (d'ye hear!)
Clap in such wise on both a Guard
That they perceive not their way barr'd.
I would secure them each from either,
Yet not be seen to do it neither.
The Captain comes to Felisbravo, and Aurelio to Claridoro.
Aside.
And how (O Love) how shall I know,
Whether he fought for me, or no?

Capt.
Please you to come where they may cure you?

Fel.
The wound is nothing I assure you.

Capt.
By your Life (Sir) consider't more.

Aur.
Prince, reply not, y'are hurt sore.

Claro.
A scratch, believe't.

Aur.
You'll find it none:
Howe're, the Queen will have it done

Claro.
A spark of pity now from Her!
Then look for quarter from a Murd'rer.


104

Fel.
Captain, how far from hence to Court?

Capt.
Your Cure (Sir Knight) doth more import
You, than that knowledge.

Fel.
To secure
Zelidaura, is my Cure.

Capt.
What Faith a groundless lye will win!
And O! how late it is call'd in?
But, come along, and you shall see
How well this Care may spared be.

Fel.
To my Revenge I do prefer
The greater sweet of serving her.

Exeunt Felisbravo and Captain.
Aur.
Come, Prince.

Claro.
'Tis so: Now, Madam, I do find
You (who ev'n then are cruel, when y'are kind)
Because from Life, I sue out a divorce,
To punish me will make me live perforce.

Exeunt Claridoro and Aurelio.
Rif.
Do they bear them Pris'ners hence?

Gen.
Pris'ners? I'll follow my dear Prince,
Resolving by his side to dye.

Rif.
That's not for me; and yet I lye;
For I (to give my self my due)
Do whiff the smoak of Honour too.

Exit General, and Rifaloro offers to follow him, but is staid by Roselinda.
Zel.
Stop that Servant.

Ros.
Gentleman,
I come to call you.

Rif.
Virgin, can
You pick out of this face, and meen,
No higher Title? Well 'tis seen
You know me not, you don't in troth,
You don't—How low our Market go'th?
You have been somewhere neerly bred,
So thin your Courtesie you spred.
'T has vext me—Gentleman, quoth you?
When Knighthood is so common too!

105

Well, your bus'ness?

Ros.
She that calls
Herself the Mistress of these Walls

Rif.
Is a Goddess, and clep'd is—

Ros.
What a new strain, new Humour's this?
If she a Goddess be, or no,
Let thine Eyes tell thee.

Rif.
Where's de Froe?

Rifaloro turns, takes off his Hat and falls at her Feet.
Zel.
Approach.

Rif.
Now let me never stir,
What diff'rence 'twixt the Sun, and hir?
A Clustre of ripe Stars she is:
Let me that hand, adoring, kiss;—
That hand, by which the Lillies brown appear,
And the Crystal is not clear,
Lac'd with Saphyr, tagg'd with shell
In which the Orient Pearl doth dwell:
Give me that pretty foot, which goes
Knitting sweet flow'r with Ivory Toes,
But none so short as It; for thine
Is Breviat of a Jesamine:
Give me—

Zel.
Withdraw, and let him stay.
Roselinda goes aside.
—Art thou the Stranger's Servant? Say.

Rif.
I am, nor of him do complain.

Zel.
Is he so good?

Rif.
So bad; w'are fain
At ev'ry turn to be made friends:
But seldome in this World meet Ends:
Ill Masters have good Servants, Good
Are answered with Ingratitude.

Zel.
What Place?

Rif.
An Office of great trust.

Zel.
How great?

Rif.
His Mute.

Zel.
His Mute? I must
Confess, that's not for a Fool.

Rif.
There's an Exception to each Rule.

106

For (let me tell you) I do blend 'um,
Holding the latter in Commendum.

Zel.
Thy Conceipts like me past expression.

Rif.
'Tis incident to our Profession
That (let it miss, or let it hit)
We Fools are off'ring still at Wit.

Zel.
Who is thy Master?

Rif.
He is one
Whose Countrey I'll to you make known,
His merit, humour, disposition,
But his Name, on no condition.

Zel.
And why his Name wilt thou not tell?

Rif.
For doing of a Miracle:
That once this saying may be true,
A Servant told not all he knew.

Zel.
'Tis not worth thanks to hide his name,
When all things else thou dost proclaim.

Rif.
Of the old Apple a new slice!
Mother Eve's inquisitive Vice!
His name? in troth it may not be.

Zel.
Hola!

Rif.
Why call you?

Zel.
Thou shalt see.
Enter Aurelio.
“With a base mind, what gentle courses
“Cannot perswade, that Rigour forces.

Aur.
Ordein your pleasure.

Zel.
(Anger me!)
Hang presently—

Rif.
Upon a Tree
Say not, by thine Eyes; for I
Shall then prevent the Rope, and dye
Of the unkindness.

Zel.
Away take him.

Layes hold of him, and he struggles.
Rif.
In earnest is't?

Zel.
A pattern make him
To Fools, who shall pretend to hold hereafter
A Secret—(My Intreaties made a laughter!

107

I, pray in vain!)

Rif.
By this good day
I think thou know'st not how to pray.
In fine, I must be hang'd.

Zel.
Thou must
(Without his name) forthwith be truss'd.

Rif.
Then drive on, Cart, Note World, a Woman hung
A Man, because he held his Tongue.
March, March.

Zel.
(For once it shall be told,
A Woman could from knowing hold
A Secret, which she dyes to know; withall,
Which a Man says, he'll dye, before she shall—)
Aside.
Leave him at large—What Countrey-man
Aurelio goes aside.
'S thy Master?

Rif.
He's a Persian:
For whom great Mars bids make already
All his tryumphal Charets ready.

Zel.
Is he high-born?

Rif.
And so discreet,
Valiant, bountiful, and sweet
In his deport, that he's the great
Idea of a Prince Compleat.

Zel.
Is't Felisbravo?

Rif.
Unto thee
Is that Name known? No, 'tis not He.
'S precious! that Royal Prodigy
Above the bounds of Man doth fly.

Zel.
And what's his bus'ness? To this Coast
What Wind brings him (for thou know'st?)

Rif.
O Women!

Zel.
Speak, go not about
The bush.

Rif.
Then, turn me inside out,
Seraphical Examiner.
They say there's in Tartaria here
A Mad-cap Queen, that kembs you wyre,
And wears a Helmet for a tyre;

108

Who, 'sted of a wide Vardingale
And reverend Apron, puts on Mayl,
And glitt'ring Arms, in which are writ
The valiant Deeds she did commit;
Who nothing but the Spear, and Rest,
And Pouldron, minds; She hoops her breast
With Brass, and her long fingers fair,
The deserts of the Needle are.
A mischief take the Woman! Let her
Resign to Men (whom it suits better)
Incampings: Let her Kerchers hem,
Leave hemming in of Troops to them.
If a Spider cross her sight,
Let her take a famous fright;
And purse her Mouth when she says, Man,
Or Husband, like the Nimphs of Spane.
Let her tremble at a Rat,
More than it doth at a Cat.
“She, for a Beauty who would pass,
“Must be as nice as Venice glass;
“And, if one hold his hand up, wink,
“For fear he brain her with a pink.
In fine, to see this Queen we came:
When a Knight (Rival of his Fame)
His Fury would have kill'd: They both
Lie hurt, and I am so in wroth
With this Man Woman, Angel-Devil,
(Who to the Sun would scant be civil)
That could I light upon her Grace,
I'd tell her roundly to her face,
Spin Highness, Spin (as good as you have spun)
For y'are a Woman, not an Amazon.

Zel.
(He serves me right—) Who sent him?

Rif.
(No, you sed
You'd have me hang'd)—He came of his own head.

109

For he hath Valour, Birth, and All
With which a Queen in Love should fall:
And I (his Servant) shall not bate
Much of a Countesse for my Mate.
I know too in the World a QUEEN
(I name her not, but) she hath been
Late disinchanted, for which pains
Such favours upon Him she rains,
That—But I stop—

Zel.
Say, prethee, does he love?

Rif.
Is he a Brute?

Zel.
And is he lov'd?

Rif.
You move
A curious Question—This (shall I be free?)
Is a graft too of the forbidden Tree.
From me no more is to be got,
And therefore (pray you) press me not.
Good faith, 'twere much more like a Friend
To hang me, as you did intend.

Zel.
This one thing wilt not let me know?

Rif.
Pray, why should you desire it so?

Zel.
Only to keep it secret still.

Rif.
Forbear to know it, and you will.

Zel.
How mainly thou art giv'n to scoff!
It is not noble to put off
With a light jest a serious suit:

Rif.
No? as great Men as I will do't.
But come (since you will have the truth)
He is a Man much lov'd by many,
Yet one of such a curious tooth,
That in his life he ne're lov'd any.
White Hands black Eyes, curl'd Looks, have no more force
On him, than Physick hath on a dead Horse.
From some dry Mother-in-law the Man did learn
Not to relent—He? He hath no concern,

110

Cannot discourse of love, though in his prime,
Though on all other Theams his tongue's a Chime,
Though none so drest, none dances so, none pours
Himself so out; for He's a rock of Flow'rs.

Aside.
Zel.
A Knight that's so accomplish'd, not
To love, appears to me a knot.
I must undo it by some Art:
For at this secret hangs a Heart.
To Rifaloro.
Pleas'd me thou hast exceedingly:
And I unthankful shall not be.

Rif.
I kiss thy foot, and am thy slave.

Zel.
Here me Aurelio, take this Knave
To prison.

Rif.
Me to prison?

Zel.
Yes,
For being a Blab.

Rif.
Ah! Traiteress,
Horrible Inquisitrix,
Are these thy thanks? and do'st thou fix
The name of Blab upon me too?
O! take by me example, you
That are Gallants, you that love:
Thus do Ladies thankful prove.

He is carried away to Prison.
Ros.
Should your Highness be more cruel
Than you are to this sweet Jewel;
Never was't so well bestow'd,
Or so like a Mercy show'd.
Exit Roselinda.

Zel.
Dissolv'd in Tears, and languishing delight,
The whisp'ring Fountain is a tale of Love,
The Rosie Morn, inam'ring at first sight,
Sweet Philomela's Oraisons doth move;

111

The smiling Flow'r, the tender peeping Bud,
April importunes with soft show'rs; the Dove
Lives vow'd to everlasting Widdowhood,
Temple of Loyalty, and Soul of Love.
Love grasps both Globes: Love all below inspires:
Love guides with constant change the sphears above:
Mars feels Loves darts, Apollo feels Loves fires,
Ev'n He that hurls the thunder, yields to Love.
All these to me no warrant; whose intent
Is not to vouch, but make a Precedent.
Exit Zelidaura.

Enter Claridiana in Mans Apparel, with her Floranteo, and Florinda Lady of Honour to her.
Cla.
Leave haunting me, and leave thy vain
And impertinent desire;
The more thou do'st of me complain,
The more's the honour I acquire:
For (credit me) I more approve
That all the World should be my Foe,
Than I defended by thy Love:
It is a debt I would not owe.
Though Heav'n with plaguing me tire never,
I hope yet it will use me better
Than (to compleat my Plagues) that ever
I should be my Tormentors debtor.
Return, and let Arabia gather
Her Rebel-Armies in thy Name:
Be kindling there seditious, rather
Than kindled here with amorous flame.

112

The cause of this disguise you see,
Is, that your self and me,
You now no more may vex,
But look on me as one of your own Sex.
Be gone, provoke me not too far,
This field presume not to transgress;
For, if my Eyes such Murth'rers are,
My Hand will be a greater Murtheress.

Flo.
Bellona, armed with the Sun;
That Conquest which thy Face hath sure,
Some hazzard in thy Sword may run,
Although its temper too be pure.
For Hearts ignoble (which your sweet
Majestick Eye cannot command
To lie down trembling at your Feet)
Reserve the anger of the Hand.
Not revilings so well spoke,
Not the pain with which I'm stung,
Not thy scorns can me provoke;
“For want of luck is not a wrong.
Nor merit I to be exil'd
From the dear place which thou art in,
Though scorn'd, tormented, and revil'd;
For, nor is want of luck a sin.
T'obey, I do not ask thee now
High Heav'ns by thee despised will.
But that (abhorring Me) yet thou
Would'st give me leave to Love Thee still.

113

Nor do I so much thank the Gods
That they were pleas'd to vote thee mine,
As that from all the World the odds
They judg'd to me of being thine.
But, since thy hate I constant find,
This Cruelty hath op'd mine Eyes
To see that all the Stars are blind,
And thou than Heav'n it self more wise.
Return into thy Kingdom free;
There, at the Altar, I'll refuse thee:
Let not Arabia lose Thee,
It is enough that I do lose thee.
Forreign Succours thou need'st none:
Return, thou hast (if thou canst see)
Champion enough in me alone,
And in thy selfe a Victory.

Cla.
On thee I lay not all the fault,
For (Floranteo) without doubt,
That, against which I bend my thought,
Heav'n is too prone to bring about.
Now, as for Beauty, I pretend
To none, and, if I had such lot,
My Beauty's Conquests should extend
To something that I hated not.
That thou art object of my Hate
To impute's erroneous vanity,
Unto thy being unfortunate,
And not unto my knowing thee.
Makes a streak on the ground.

114

Step not an Inch beyond this line.
For, should the World arm all agin me,
And all the Elements combine,
I have my Victories within me.

Flo.
Most Beautiful, Illustrious, Generous,
Divine Claridiana, whom t'excel
Self-Rival'd Nature being ambitious,
With flesh and blood found it impossible.
New Phoenix of Arabia, Miracle
Greater than She, who in of Her Self lyes,
Dies when she rises, rises when she dyes.
Celestial Princess, able to make Wars
Out of the private stock of thy Perfections:
(For thou might'st press full Regiments of Stars,
Would'st thou but give thy foot those bright directions.)
Advance, thy Beauty's Royal Standard spred;
Beat up thy Drums in Hearts that freedom plead;
Give out Commissions under white and red
To kill and slay, to burn, and to make prize,
And let thy Foes look Armies in thy Eyes.
See, how thy fugitive feet, by calling Strangers
To thy assistance, steal the Victory
Thy face (if shew'd) would gain, dispersing dangers
More than the Gorgons Head! that sparkling Eye,
The whiteness of that Hard, without a Blow,
All that contrast with thee, must overthrow
In a celestial War of Fire and Snow.
Beauty pretends not warring with a Sword,
But with a gentle look, or a kind word;

115

To be robustious, furious, warlike, are
Not Graces, but distortions of the Fair.
A scorn that sweetly balsoms when it wounds,
A word that striking courteously rebounds,
An am'rous Frown; these tye Men to their duty
With cords; for “A perswading War is Beauty.

Cla.
Thou seest I ask no Prince my part to take
(How brave so e're) none such my Champion make.
But beg (how meetly!) Zelidaura's Aid,
A Maiden Queen to right a Crowned Maid.
She (the illustrious Bulwark of her land,
And Mistress of a Soul white as her Hand)
Disdains her Name, and her Heroick Sail
To such a trifle as a Man should vail.
Since then the Tartars unrevolted are,
And now in Peace, though always prone to War,
Their Martial Spirits let her exercise,
T' undoe a wrong which loud for Vengeance crys:
I, by a Woman or by none, will rise:
Too proud, my life (if sav'd b'a Man) to own,
Or with my Freedom to redeem my Throne.
To be robustious, fierce, and arrogant,
They are not Beauties proper Arms, I grant;
For her smooth rigidness her slack comptroll,
Cloath not with steel the body, but the soul.
I grant, Cheeks swoln with choler have no hooks:
That no temptations are in furious looks:
For the Brest's inward softness (without doubt)
Is Beauty's soul, which seasons that without.
But, ceas'd Semiramis, to be a Dame,
Penthasilia ceas'd she to inflame,
(Their Helmets off) because, when on they were,
This Hectors Sword, That shook Achilles Spear?

116

Discreet, prompt, active, gallant, happily
Are they entayl'd upon Deformity?
And evermore must Beauty bear the taunt
Of luckless, cowardly, and ignorant?
To a discreet and an obedient Lover
Her self in her own shape let her discover,
(“For when all's done, to pierce a Wiseman's breast
“Beauty's the sharpest sword.) But for the rest,
Who vex, who cross me, them, not with a white,
But armed Hand, I'll take, kill, burn, in fight.
Here 'tis, that Beauty quits her native charms;
And plays the Souldier with those borrowed Arms.
Shall I those People that would suck my blood,
Slay with a Lady's Weapon? (That were good:)
And Rebels, shall so sweet a death o'rewhelm,
As by my Beauty? No, the impious Relm
Shall rue their work—What talk'st thou of my Face!
It is my Sword must right me in this Case.
My Hands must quell those that against me rise:
For other are the Conquests of my Eyes.

Flo.
Peace: Zelidaura comes.

Cla.
I blush; although
Transform'd Claridiana who can know?

Flo.
Thy Beauty in such Characters is writ,
That a dull Eye may soon discypher it.

Cla.
By thee (who art my shadow) me it may:
Back therefore, Floranteo.

Flo.
Though thou play
The Tyranness, I am thy subject still:
Then cease thy Anger if I do thy Will.

Exit Floranteo. Claridiana and Florinda remain.
Florin.
In her superlative perfections,
Thou wilt see a peerless Dame.

Cla.
Of her Beauty faint Reflections
Are rendred by the Glass of Fame.


117

Enter to them Zelidaura, Aurelio, Roselinda, and others.
Zel.
Here leave us.

Ros.
Madam, are you well?

Zel.
I ayl nothing Roselind
Aside.
What new Disease!—I cannot tell,
This disinchanted Queen is wond'rous kind,
Or wond'rous grateful—Thought, thou 'rt not my Friend—
To her Train.
Leave me thou too—we would be left.

Ros.
A weight
Hangs there—and, it that Heart beneath it bend,
Believe me it must needs be great.

Exit Train.
Zel.
What tyrannous resentments move
Such monstrous billows in my brest?
Jealous am I, before I love?
And before I fear, opprest?
If Claridiane is Queen
Of Araby, what makes she here?
Is it to see only, unseen?
That much unlikely doth appear.
If for the Love she bears the Stranger, ill
Did he to leave her, though worth spurr'd him on:
But, if he reign'd as King in her good will,
She did as good as bid him get him gone.
—Fool, Fool, to be concerned so
In wrongs her Beauty doth sustain;
When all the pity I can show
Is not enough for my own pain.


118

Flor.
Approach, what fear'st thou?

Cla.
Strange confusion!
—Whom see I?

Zel.
Yes, I know that Fame,
Claridiana knows Zelidaura when she sees her, and Zelidaura knows her.
And that gate too—

Cla.
'Tis no delusion;
She, whom I saw in a course case,
Was Zelidaura

Zel.
My suspition's true;
The wrong'd Claridiana doth pursue
The Stranger whom she loves—Downflames

Cla.
Troy's ours:
My Name but sounded, brings me all her Pow'rs.
To Zelidaura.
Couragious Queen, bright honour of thy kind,
At these tryumphant Feet thy Slave's inclin'd.

Falls at her Feet.
Zel.
Rise, and inform us what thou art.

Cla.
I am
(Fam'd Zelidaura) an Arabian Knight,
Who beg thee drown'd with pity in the name
Of my dread Mistress, brought into sad plight
By Rebels—If thou art the blew-ey'd Maid,
Who is the Deity of War; Aid, Aid,
Injur'd Claridiana

Zel.
(Part well plaid!)

Aside.
Cla.
In her dear Countrey, in her Throne replant
Claridiana; then thou shalt not want
New Decades to thy Story, and give Fame
(Who loves to sing thy Praises) a large Theam.
Arm; let thy valour freeze th'Usurper's veins:
Nor let thy hand kill less, than thy disdains.
Thy Beauties in their dazeled faces shine,
And teach thy Sword to conquer, though 'tis thine.
On Spanish Gennet hang 'twixt Earth and Air:
Nor Mars, but Sol, be now the God of War.

119

To Cowards, and to Valiant, fatal prove:
Making those dye for fear, as these for love.

Aside.
Zel.
In flatt'ries wrapt, her purpose close she bears:
How well they 're call'd, the poison of the Ears!
Another now (thus jealous) would be thought
In love, but I'm not guilty of that fault,
Yet here are sighs would make me think I were,
And never lye, did so like truth appear.
I'll answer coldly, till I know if War
Be in her land, or love do make't on her.
If Treason drave her thence, without delay
My conqu'ring Flags in her Cause display.
But, if (a frantick Lover) she pursue
The gallant Stranger, I will make her rue
She e're came hither; and upon them both
(Though I should dye for't) wreak my burning wroth.

Cla.
What is your answer?

Zel.
Is there, did'st thou say,
Such a Rebellion in ARABIA?

Cla.
Madam, there is.

Zel.
And did that Queen send thee
To make request for succours unto Me?

Cla.
'Tis very certain.

Zel.
And as certain, this,
That she doth hope them from me?

Cla.
Madam, 'tis.

Zel.
And for my Answer wert thou bid to stay?

Cla.
Madam, I was.

Zel.
La Reine Sauisera.

Exit very stately.
Cla.
How's this? An Answer how unlike her Fame?
Are these the Actions that cry up her Name?
Is this that they call Manly? This to be
Invincible? What an Indignitie!
Upon how slight an Errand Fame will go?
And how it gathers like a Ball of Snow!

120

When I suppos'd her Valour would burst out,
And sow with Squadrons all my fields about,
To reap, for our two heads, a twofold Crown,
Of Gold for mine, of Laurel for her own:
When the two sweetest things Earth can afford
I made account to owe unto her Sword,
Revenge and Empire; paying me in brief
The common Wages of a light belief,
She answers (neither brave, nor pitiful,
Nor courteous, but pitifully dull)
She'll think of it. And if her Bowels yearn'd
Not now, will she with thinking be concern'd?
What shall I do?

Flor.
Sue to some King, and chuse
Him such a King, as you did most abuse.
If you obliged Any heretofore,
Take heed of him upon that very score.
How well your Entertainment she doth quit!

Cla.
Her rustick weed bely'd not her Soul yet.
The worst of Foes are thankless Friends; for those
“One ne're did good to, are at worst cheap Foes.
Ingratitude is cruel. Seek I must
(I see) to my wise Father, though unjust.
Ah Zelidaura, thou hast a Man's Heart,
Because untouch'd with sense of Woman's smart!

Exeunt.
Enter Claridoro with his Arm in a Scarf.
Claro.
From this deep Vale, with horrour crown'd,
Whose bottom not the Stars can sound,
I breath up sighs no less profound.
Where, if hard trees, and harder stones,
Hear my moans;
Never again
Will I to cruel Womankind complain.

121

Silence not still respect implies:
For he from whom, when rack'd he lies
Nothing is wrung,
Slights his Tormentor whilst he holds his tongue.
What need of silence hath respect?
It looks to me as if the Flame
Were held a shame,
Which all the Care is how not to detect.
Here, here, let me let loose my groans,
Let the great Bell out be rung:
Here safely all my Love at once
Unload thy self into my tongue.
If she should overhear it, Crime 'twere none;
Faith is alive, but hope is dead and gone.
If our Predecessors Passions
Had been regulated thus,
Beauties new Fortifications
Had not been rais'd against us.
For who could take a just offence
At an humble Patience,
At a true Hearts silent aking,
Or ev'n a suit presented quaking?
Zelidaura Star divine
That dost in highest Orb of Beauty shine,
Pardon'd Murd'ress, by that Heart
It self which thou dost kill, and coveted smart:
Though my walk so distant lyes
From the Sun-shine of thine Eyes,
(Into sullen shaddows hurl'd,
To lye here buried to the World)

122

'Tis the least reason of my moan,
That so much Earth is 'twixt us thrown.
'Tis absence of another kind
Grieves me: For, where y'are present too,
Love's Geometry doth find
I have ten thousand Miles to you.
“'Tis not absence, to be far;
“But, to abhor, is to absent.
“To those, who in disfavour are,
“Sight it self is Banishment.
But I love thee with all my heart,
Whom therefore thou canst never fly;
Since, in whatever place thou art,
Th'art present to my Fantasie.
As th'Optick's turn'd, the Object comes and goes:
Disdain no presence, Love no absence knows.
Custom of Ills is poor relief,
It only stands on the defence:
The faint Compounder of a Grief
After the first violence.
Nor hath that place in a new Wound,
And my Wound is ever new,
And ev'ry day is more profound,
And ev'ry moment festers too.
Only one Woe (for't were a Crime)
I never can be guilty of:
To love her less than at this time,
Or not to love only to love.

123

Nor would I quench the fire in which I dye,
To be the light of any other Eye.

Enter Zelidaura in a Rustick Habit.
Zel.
The wounded Knight I come to see:
Let no one stop me—Is that he?

Claro.
Who is so out of fashion, as to look
Upon a Man whom Fortune hath forsook?
What a sparkling Shepherdess!
(Here may be more than I yet guess.)

Zel.
Ay me! 'Tis Claridoro, This.

Claro.
Through her disguise how fair she is!
'Tis Zelidaura (for my sight
Hath found her out by her own light)
But 'tis a Happiness, and I
In that may ev'n mistrust my Eye.
Possible in nature is it,
That to me can be this visit?
Or, so beside my self am I,
To think ought mine that is Felicity?

Zel.
He knows me, but I'll face him down
I am not I: But he is such a Clown
He'll not believe me, should I swear it:

Aside.
Claro.
Why might not my immortal passion merit,
And force thus much, from Her? It might do so,
If I were not a Man made sure to Woe:
Nor would it the first glorious tryumph prove
O're scornful Beauty, by submissive Love:
Though I do mainly doubt it, and should say
'Twere a great wonder, were it true: I'll pay

124

My truth her wages with believing 'tis:
And so deceive my self into a Bliss.
Addresses himself to her.
Shepherdesse, whose Sheep-Walks reach
From China's Wall to the Muscovian Beach;
Who to a thousand Flocks do'st look,
And rul'st them with a Golden Hook;
Whom Title, Beauty, Wit, combine
To render in all points divine:
Humane only toward me,
Nor that till thou these hurts didst see;
As if (to dye) that I had need
By other hand than thine, to bleed.
Such pity Zelidaura keep:
For all these Wounds I long may live:
A Foe's Weapon cuts not deep:
Pity that, a Friend doth give.
For this high Grace, thou now bestow'st—

Aside.
Zel.
(Were't meant, I see it were not lost.
But yes: It were an Ill-plac'd Boon
On one, that can believe't so soon)
To Him.
Where's any Zelidaura here?
Dost thou a simple Body jeer?
'Tis well—

Claro.
You over act it Zelidaura:

Zel.
Zelidaure not me, I Laura
Am, the Daughter of thine Host.
Thou, little, Zelidaura know'st.
A Majesty so proud, so grave,
To come and visit thee? do'st rave?

125

With me thou double-wrong'st her Grace;
In her Discretion and her Face.
I'm pitifull a little, much at home:
To see thee (hurt) on these two scores I come.

Claro.
Thou art my Health, when Health's away,
And of my Hopes the only stay.

Zel.
Thou 'rt of the Sect of Hopers than?

Claro.
Fair ZELIDAURA, if you can,
In this sweet truth, or errour, dye let me.

Zel.
Either I am not, or will not be she.

Claro.
Goddess of snow, fair Copy of the Sun,
Ecclipsing this, and making that look dun;
Whose piercing sight (predominant in Souls)
Two Globes of Light, two Sphears of Beauty, rowls;
'Bout which ten thousand flutt'ring Cupids swarm,
And sindge those wings they there presum'd to warm:
Whom with one gracious smile if thou requite,
Thou kill'st with Life, and strik'st them blind with Light.
Thou, from whom (arm'd with steel and love are sent
Thy Billets into every Element
(Inraged) (rending.) and Adorning (Fair)
The Earth with Stars, with Cannon-shot the Air.
The Woods (from which all other Sun is shut)
(With Lilly Hand, with odoriferous foot,
(Speeding unerring Shafts, recruiting Bow'rs)
Thou robb'st of Beasts, and pay'st again in Flowers.
Celestial ZELIDAURA, fair Comptrol
Of all that share an understanding Soul,
(For 'tis the least of Praise thy Beauty boasts
To trample outward force, and vanquish'd Hoasts.)

126

Though, 'twas the dream of one that ill did rest
To fancy gentle pity in thy Brest,
(The wrack of Hearts, and temple of a Saint
Whose Walls can boast not one reliev'd Complaint.)
It was a vanity my Love brought forth,
When I consider'd that, and not thy worth.
Nor dare I so much wrong that noble Passion,
To think it might not merit a Compassion,
Though not return: Yet, Bliss on any score,
Which knock'd at mine, it seems mistook the dore.
For when Thou com'st (and then That comes) to Me
BLISSE, is not Bliss, nor ZELIDAURA, She.
I know thee not (let not thy choler rise)
For I believe Thee more than my own Eyes.

Zel.
Alack! alack! much loss of Blood
Hath turn'd his Brain, and makes him wood.

Claro.
O Love (thou well maist be call'd blind)
The happier Stranger came she not to find?
O Heav'ns! with this suspition I do pass
To be envious and base.
But if blind Love made me conceit
Fondly of her, as to me:
Stranger, the wonder's not so great,
If I think meanly of her, as to thee.
Here me, Laura.

Zel.
Now't's too late:
Poor Soul, thou talk'st at a strange rate!
Besides, I do not like thee half so well,
Since I perceive thy thoughts so vastly swell.

Exit Zelidaura flying away from him.

127

Claro.
Why (ungrateful) fly'st thou me,
And seek'st my Rival? Was disdain
(O Heav'ns!) too little, without Jealousie?
Envy, was't not sufficient to complain?
Kill'd with anothers Happiness?
Suffic'd not for a Wretch his own distress?
I took another Bliss for mine
(A wise Conceit!)
That harms themselves cannot my Wits refine!
That from my ill, that good I could not get!
That I should, not be able
To make some use of being miserable.
My Soul shall follow thee,
Too fleet for me:
For from my Soul I'm sure thou canst not go,
And I know all the paths that lead to Woe.
O Life, with Sorrows rife,
Only to Misery thou art a Life!

Exit.
Enter Felisbravo with his Arm in a Scarf.
Fel.
Lash'd by the Winds, the Ocean raves, and craves
To be a Star, and not an Element:
The Winds cry Freedom from their horrid Caves,
Not clogs of Mountains can their scape prevent.
The Mountains crack; the crouded Air upheaves
The Pillars of the Rocking Firmament:
For none, to that which smart or loss receives,
Forbids a sigh, a tear, or a lament.
I only (a dead mark of Fortune's spight)
Stand on the highest pinacle of Grief
Firm as a Diamond, silent as Night.
O Smart well disciplin'd, without Relief

128

For a poor Lover to support his woe!
So much a sorrow doth to custom owe.
Immortal, doubtless, is the thing
Which me doth pain,
And that again
Which doth eternally remain
From a Celestial Cause must spring.
My Soul is short as unto Me,
'Tis Epigram:
But, Madam, to the World I came
Eternal, as to loving Thee,
For unto thee, all Soul I am.
The greater torment I sustain,
The less I wou'd
My days conclude;
For, dying to be out of pain,
Is the Cowards fortitude.
Grant, I should (my pain to cure)
Suffer Smart
Break Thee, Heart;
Can I another Heart procure
To love with, when thou broken art?
But little skill in love thou hast,
Who e're thou art that think'st or Bliss,
Or Valour is,
In dying for't; since, Life once past,
Neither Love, nor his Pangs, last.
Therefore would I alive remain,
'Cause (dead) impossible 'twould prove
To obtain
Either more Love to cause sweet pain,
Or more time in which to love.

129

I do not with presumptuous Heart
Value my self on Fortunes Frown:
He, that's o'rethrown
For want of taking his own part,
Gets no Honour by being down.
The Man that merits not good Fortune,
If he complain,
Is not in vain
Complain'd of: For, in due misfortune,
To murmur, is t'offend again.
I hold it for a wither'd Bays.
For which I nothing have to show,
But that proud Fortune is my Foe:
A poor it is, and heartless praise,
Which to my misery I owe.
Heav'nly Zelidaura, I
Am my own
Confusion:
And blame not thee, my Misery
Being ow'd unto my self alone.
From others pity I could ne're
Extract a Bliss; nor fit
Imagin it,
That others should the sorrow bear,
When I the folly did commit.
In thy regard, alive or dead,
I cannot be
Comforted:
For, whil'st I live, thou 'rt lost to me;
And, dead, I lose the loving thee.

130

When shall these Eyes behold the light
For which I
Languishing, dye?
When?—But what needs corporeal sight?
Love can see without an Eye.
That I, a Persian, should Adore the Sun,
Is no wonder;
But, in some Pool 'tis safest done,
Or when a Cloud 'tis under.
For, my best Sun, if Thee
I should see,
'Twould scorch me with the heat, 'twould blind me with the Ray,
Unless (as thee I once survay'd)
'Twere in thy Picture's cooler shade;
Or thus, by strength of fancy, when ev'n that's away.

Stands or lyes down, with his Eyes fixt towards the door, as upon the dear object.
Enter Zelidaura in the Habit of a Shepherdess.
Zel.
The Patient stays in pain, make room,
A goodyer take you, let me come.
To Him.
Will your Worship be drest now?

Fel.
The Chyrurgioness art thou?

Zel.
Yes, and might be too the wound.

Fel.
Thou might'st indeed: For the most sound,
If with this object he did meet,
Might dye of a Disease that's sweet.

Zel.
Art smit?

Fel.
Not I. I'm prepossest.

Zel.
But a new, outeth an old guest.
He looks upon her amazedly.

131

What do yow gape at?

Fel.
If eternally
I do not sleep, nor All Inchantment be
Which I do lay my Eyes upon, This Face
I've seen, with wonder, in another place.
She's like the Sun in all: save that the Sun
Is sole, but Zelidaura is not One.
Did Nature dote so on her pieces worth,
As to give sundry Copies of it forth?
Or (which no less upon my wonder calls)
Hath that one Picture four Originals?

Zel.
Now his Brain works like Wax, and his five Wits
Relapse into their. Apoplectick Fits.
I am resolved I will know his Name,
Having already broke the Ice of shame.
What so becalms thee? Grievous is the wound?

Fel.
Not, now, that of my Body.

Zel.
More profound
That of thy Soul is, thou inferr'st. Take heed
Of Sleep, for that will make it inward bleed;
And the Man's giv'n to Sleeping.

Fel.
I shall dye,
If but of wonder.

Zel.
Where doth thy pain lye?

Fel.
Just at my Heart: Inchantments are the Cause,
And absence of a Queen that gives it Laws.

Zel.
Peace: I would be contented to know less.

Fel.
'Tis she, or else her Shadow.—Shepherdess
Come hither, have I seen thee before now?

Zel.
Can I tell what thy Eyes have seen?

Fel.
Hast thou
Been ever in Arabia happily?

Aside.
Zel.
(Once, but no Happy Araby to Me.)
To Him.
How curious to know all! I ne're was out
Of these sweet fields

Fel.
And therefore past all doubt,
They are so sweet—And how art thou call'd.

Zel.
Laura:
Coridon's Daughter.

Fel.
Know'st thou Zelidaura?

132

(I fear a new Intrigue) Seen thee hath she?

Zel.
Tell me thy Name, and here I promise thee
A Secret which may fully recompence
A Courtesie of greater consequence:
For to this Graunge comes Zelidaura oft.
And these dumb flow'rs, these murmuring springs, this soft.
Consort of Nightingales, this Garden Wall,
Those circumjacent fields, Laura and all,
Are witness to a pain she doth deplore—
But till thou have oblig'd me first, no more.

Fel.
(O jealousie! and was not Love enough?
Jealous so soon? Am I such catching stuff?)

Zel.
If it import thee to know more of this,
Say what thou art, and why thy coming is.

Aside.
Fel.
Forgive me Modesty, it doth behove
I lay thee by, to seek (not Praise, but) Love.
To Her.
Friend have your Wish.

Zel.
Begin not with (Attend.)

Fel.
Nor with (O yes.)

Zel.
You have a merry Frend.

Fel.
A King hath PERSIA (Felisbravo hight)
High Envy of the Gods, Mankinds delight,
His birth-day a few Mays have mark'd with Flowers:
The same (join'd with the drops of April show'res)
Summe up his virtues. As in Logarism
Nine figures makes of numbers an Abysm:
So a few Springs (as he hath order'd it)
Have multiply'd his Years to Infinit:
Who, though not full eight thousand mornings strong,
He that now wrote his Life would find it long:
His Body and his Soul are so well met,
That the best Gem, hath the best Cabinet.

133

A Veil of Love his Majesty doth shroud;
Which yet is so seen through, that the most proud
Tread upon fears, and hear their faults aloud.
He walks through the wide Fields of History:
North-Star of Kings, to steer a true Course by;
And, for their Faults, a Glasse that will not lye.
His Hand is of two Natures: It doth hold
Steel, that is clapt into it, lets go Gold,
Yet strong submission wrests there out the Sword;
And, frank of Deeds, he's niggard of his Word:
Lest bashful Bounty make him say the thing
Which will not hold: For that's unlike a King.
Lets no base whispers misinform his Youth,
Nor thinks it thrift on Trust to take up Truth.
Vice he hath none, nor any Age hath seen
Amongst so many Flow'rs so little green.
He looks on Beauty (pleas'd) and passes on:
A Free Prince still, ev'n where she plants her Throne.
The light thereof he takes, the Fire he doth
Reject: A temperate and a glorious Youth!
Till some just War shall wake his sleeping Sword,
And splendid Theams to Tongues and Pens afford;
He follows peaceful War, breaks truce with Beasts.
Sloth Foe to All, but most to Royal Breasts.
The second Sol without his radiant Hair,
He sacks the Woods, dispeoples the wide Ayr:
The first Adone, without his Venus, Groves
He doth adorn, and peoples those with Loves.
This Prince felt never, never he Love's smart,
Nor his most Golden Shaft durst wound his Heart;
Until a Captive did in Persia thunder
Such Praises of a Princesse (the Worlds Wonder)

134

As stunn'd his senses, set his Heart at Bay,
'Twixt trembling boldness, and 'twixt bold dismay.
Of Wounds less mortal dy'd the Royal Slave,
Who Zelidaura's Picture to him gave,
Mute Circle of two Suns. Th'inamour'd King
(Whil'st he, impatient, settles ev'ry thing
In order to come after, that his Realm
Lament not his short abscence from the Helm)
Commands my Journey to Tartaria poast,
T'inform my self whether the Picture boast
Real Perfections of her Queen. I fly,
And reach in a few days to Araby,
Where (Mortal Frailty yielding to Sleeps pow'r)
A villain steals it. An Inchanted Tow'r
Is interpos'd 'twixt our drawn Swords (at once
That thund'ring with its fall, and I with groans)
Thence to this Forrest we adjourn the War,
His Treason's Altar, my Revenge's Bar.
We meet; when ours so many Swords repel,
As if each Blade of Grass were one of Steel.
To lose my Picture, and not lose my Life,
I pierc'd with Woe;
And that to Poison, that to Sword, nor Knife,
My Death I owe.
To Persia dare not (for the King) return
(For coldest Hearts, when fir'd once, fiercest burn)
Who, sweetly snar'd with Zelidaura's Fame,
No Love else answers, hears no other Name.
Rare Shepherdesse (whether thou be the Flow'r
Of forreign Plains, or of these Hills the Tow'r)
If help thou have, or help to thee be known,
If more thou art, or canst, than thou dost own,
Pity my Woes, set my Confusions right,
Ease so great pain, shew day to so great night.


135

Aside.
Zel.
Most undoubtedly 'tis He,
Because (for more disguise) I see
His proper Praise he did not spare.
To Him.
I shall soon find it.—Thy great Care
And Courage (Persian) I admire.
Couldst thou the Picture know again?

Fel.
If it take up my Thoughts entire,
And Copied in my Heart remain,
Must I not know it?

Zel.
Look on this:
And mark it well.

Fel.
Had I no Aim
By any feature, whose it is
The matchless Beauty would proclaim.
Aside.
What Bon-fires (Heart) wilt thou now make for Joy?
I would not have them less
Than my Love's Flame, or those of Troy;
And monstrous, as to me, is Happiness.
A Lover is not glad,
Unless withall he's Mad:
Nor can my Gratitude expressed be
With any thing that's less than Lunacie.
I do not celebrate my Good
With so much splendour as I ought,
Nor its full worth have understood,
If this effect it have not wrought.

Zel.
He's like a Man that talks t'a Spirit

To the Picture.
Fel.
Beautiful and injur'd Shade,
More blame (I must confess) I merit,
Than past his Hour a Lover who hath staid.

136

To Her.
Shepherdess, who gave it thee?
For, amidst varietie,
Seeing the self-same Beauty ever,
I credit, what I tremble to assever.

Zel.
Then, Persian, of a Countrey Lass
Perceive an Act a Queen might do;
Through this blind Labyrinth to pass
My Pity giving thee a Clew.
I am the Woman thou didst see,
In several shapes, in Arabie;
And who from thee this Picture stole;
And whom, if that rare King (the Soul
And Martial Glory of the Chase)
Merit the Praise thou giv'st His Grace,
Wish thee return to Persia faster
Than thou cam'st hither, and thy Master
(The Gen'rous Felisbravo) tell;
He shall to Tartary do well
To come with wings, where (if he prove
As humble, and as much in love,
As great in Courage, and high-flown)
Queen Zelidaura is his own:
The most exempted Heart reserving
For the Person most deserving:
And say, thou heard'st it from one Laura,
Who heard it in this place from Zelidaura.

Aside.
Fel.
Shall I think my Senses true?
Zelidaura 'tis I view.
No, no, it is not; 'Tis my Eye
Flatters my Wishes with so sweet a Lye.

137

To Her.
Angel I go; and shall the King
Quickly to Tartaria bring.

Zel.
It is not Felisbravo, no;
For he his Mask now off would throw.
What have I done? My being kind
I will retract, unless I find
This Face, this Courage, and this Meen,
In a Kings Person, to deserve a Queen.

Compares her with the Picture, interchangeably regarding either.
Fel.
That, of the Hand which made us all,
Picture, is thy Originall,
None, that before appeared such,
Did Face to Face avow so much.
An Egg is not more like an Egg,
Nor the Left to the Right Leg.
Nature, that drain'd her Stores to do
One Face like this, despair'd of Two.

They descant to themselves upon each other.
Zel.
Is this a Servant?

Fel.
Is this Laura?
I ne're was in a Maze till now.

Zel.
Then art not Felisbravo, thou?

Fel.
Art thou then, Zelidaura?

Aside.
Zel.
(His fear compels him to conceal,
My love shall prompt him to reveal,
Himself—) Sir Knight

Fel.
Fair Shepherdess,
Thy divine commands express.

Zel.
The Picture's mine, I am not Laura:
If thou art Felisbravo, follow
To the Temple of Apollo:
I am relenting Zelidaura.

Exit.

138

Fel.
Suspend thy steps: With all my Heart
(Beauteous Queen) I follow thee:
(But that's already where thou art—)

As going after her, when Enter hastily, Claridiana in Mans Apparel and stays him.
Cla.
Valiant King, come back to me.

Fel.
Off, Remora

Cla.
Whom hurlst thou fro thee?

Fel.
Youth, for this ill turn beshrow thee.

Cla.
Hear me, thou new Alcides.

Fel.
What
Wouldst thou with me?

Cla.
Know'st me not?

Fel.
No, nor would.

Cla.
So soon (unkind!)
Claridiana out of mind?

Fel.
Me, that the Sea burneth, tell.

Cla.
Look upon me, Stranger, well.

Fel.
The Cloaths and smartness, thou put'st an,
Speak the bold language of a Man;
But that Complexion, and that Grace,
Woman write upon thy Face:
And one, whom I have elsewhere seen.

Cla.
Ah! Wonder not, the most distrest
Of Women, seeks of Men the best:
Of Arabia I am Queen,
On which the Gold, that therein is,
The Name of Happy did bestow,
And, of Perfumed, from her Trees
The Aromatick Tears that flow.
My Father (through whose Magick Lore
The shook Earth groan'd, and on whose back,
As on strong Atlas'is of yore,
The Heaven was a Golden Pack)

139

Erected there th'inchanted Tow'r,
For curious and magnificent,
Proportioned to Regal Pow'r,
And Art's Divine Astonishment.
Th'intention was to thee made known,
Then, when thou couldst not keep by Wit
That, which by Valour thou didst git;
So many Monsters overthrown.
The Duel was abruptly done,
Abruptly was the War begun,
Feign'd to be here in Tartary
By Claridoro's Jealousy.
Certain Eyes were thy North-Stars,
Which directed thy Course hither:
If Ruth, or Love, or love of Wars,
The Cause, thou know'st; I know not whether.
I staid alone: My Subjects (broke
Loose from their Duty) They, require
T'an Idol I should offer smoke,
For whom my Altar had no Fire.
Up-sighing, to the Gods, Complaints;
Heav'ns sacred pity I implore;
The Sun, surpriz'd with darkness, faints;
The Thunder in the Ayre doth roar.
My Magick Father (reconcil'd
By her misfortunes to his Child)
Informs me how this Cabin mean
Inshrines the Persian King serene.
Thou art the Man, thou Felisbravo art,
In Praise of whom Fame sings her well conn'd Part

140

Two Worlds already with thy Name doth fill,
And makes both Poles hear plain her Trumpet shrill.
Thy Aid I crave, to thee my wrongs discover,
As thou art brave, not as thou art a Lover:
(For, tell not me of constant Lovers; such
I have heard much of, but believe not much.)
Restore Claridiana to her Crown:
Thy Name will make the Loyal (who are down)
O'retop the rest. These, are the spoyls thou ow'st
To Fame's bright Temple; These, are deeds to boast
Thee, for their Author: Leave, fam'd Prince, soft thoughts,
Leave Cupid's vain Caresses, and tame faults
Of Idleness; thy Damask Blade unsheath;
In Rest couch Ash; on which when North Winds breath
It bends (a Twig) but now (more stubborn Wood)
Shew's Beak of Steel, made drunk with Crimson Flood.
Arm'd, let the Field behold thee; and make blush
The shoulders of thy digg'd Bucephalus
With Foamed Spurs: In thee Apollo bright
Be dy'd with Blood, Red Mars be guilt with sight.
My Truncheon weild with that victorious Hand.
Two Phœnixes shall then the Arabs Land
(As to immortal, as to glorious) have;
But (as to valiant) only FELISBRAVE.

Aside.
Fel.
Love, and Honour, pull two ways;
And I stand doubtful which to take:
To Arabia, Honour says,
Love says, no; thy stay here make,
Honour (like to lose the day)
Pity throws into her scale
Love, Gratitude in his doth lay;
Fearing else not to prevail.

141

Fair Zelidaura shall I flee,
Just now, when in her Grace I stand;
One of those happy fools to be,
Who prize no Bird that's in the hand?
Aside.
So (your less Fool) a Child too, cryes
For a rich Gem, which got, the Boy
Runs after something else he spies,
And leaves his Jewel for a toy.
Deaf then to loud Musick of Mars,
To his spread Flags let me be blind.
I'm summon'd here to higher Wars.
And those are cruel, these are kind.
To wrong'd Claridiana, than
Discourteous Coward shall I prove?
Knowing my Heart (as I do) can,
Dare I, to it, such baseness move?
Not, by Courtship, not on Doun,
Is acquir'd sublime Renoun:
But Prowess indefatigable
Scales Alpes and ploughs up Seas unstable.

Cla.
How long he doth debate it in his Brest?
Slow comes Relief, where little Love doth rest.

Aside still.
Fel.
Pardon me, Zelidaure, this way I take
And (which is more) I leave thee for thy sake:
For, of thy Lover none deserves the Name,
Who will not succour a Distressed Dame.
Stand me, Arabia: If I gain the day
The Spoils at Zelidaura's Feet I'll lay.


142

Enter General.
Gen.
Leave Felisbravo, leave the vain Alarms
Of a false Honour, and Love's vainer Charms.
These pull proud Pontus on thy trembling Relm.
Ev'n Courage fears, the Pilot from the Helm:
Hast home: 'Tis brav'ry past my skill t' admire,
To quench another's house, thine own on Fire.
Once let not appetite prevail, not still
The worst be chose, and Reason stoop to Will.
Waste not thy years in Love, or cruel Ruth,
And weed betimes ev'n Flow'rs that choak thy Youth.
Return to Persia, leave Romancing, leave
Disnerving Loves, and all that may deceive
The Harvest of so fair a Spring. “The Birth
“Of Kings is to be Patterns to the Earth,
“Not blotting-papers, but to write fair by;
“Nor pleasures Slaves, or tryumphs of an Eye.

Cla.
This seems a trick. Heav'ns! That a Man should dare
To forfeit his good Manners to my Pray'r!

Fel.
Gen'ral, well urg'd: But first I'll pay two scores:
One here, another where my Soul adores—
To Her.
Claridiana comfort thy soft Brest,
Heroick Minds are try'd when they are prest.
List me thy Captain, or thy Souldier: Come
Live thou, though I dye here, and lose at home.

Gen.
Bright Persian Prince,
The World will hang the Temple of thy worth
With all the Vows Oppression shall rack forth.
T'Arabia then; thy look will conquer there,
And thy Fame strike the Pontick King with Fear.


143

Aside.
Fel.
Good Courtier, but ill Lover, now am I:
I know it, but I know no Remedy.

Aside.
Cla.
I carry thee, to War against my Land:
Against my Heart to War too, underhand.

Exeunt.
Enter Zelidaura.
'Tis not, the Persian Felisbrave;
He would have follow'd: And if Fame
With a true Mouth his Worth proclaim,
He (if he lov'd) my Love might have.
For he that will my Hand deserve,
Must, in a constant Soul, comprize
The understanding of the Wise.
The diligence of those that serve,
Perfections of a King discover,
And the tremblings of a Lover.

Enter Claridoro habited like a Countrey Gentleman.
Claro.
For the Queen now
To Court to call me is no pleasure
To one who wisely minds the Plow,
And rowls in Leisure.
Sweet Solitude! still Mirth, that fear'st no wrong,
Because thou doest none! Morning all day long!
Truth's Sanctuary! Innocency's Spring!
Invention's Limbeck! Contemplation's Wing!
Peace of my Soul, which I too late pursude!
That know'st not the Worlds vain Inquietude:
Where Friends (the Thieves of Time) let us alone
Whole days; and a Mans Hours are all his own.

144

Happy art thou, that, unsupplanted, plantest;
Nor seest in Court (which to thy Harm thou hantest)
Th'undoing Truth of rigid Honesty;
The profitable Lye of Flattery;
The sweet Disease of Hope the Potion,
And bitter Health of Undeception.
Turns to her.
Madam, your pleasure (for, in haste,
A Servant call'd me, to wait on
Your Highness.)

Zel.
Diligence goes fast:
As for haste else, there was none.
The wounded Stranger, is he gone?

Claro.
Just now.

Zel.
(I ask'd that which I grieve to know)
Aside.
Went he Cur'd fully?

Claro.
Truly, No:
He stumbled o're his Health, because a Woman,
In a Mans Habilliment
(Invited by his Fame) did summon
Him, to some Action; and with Her he went.

Zel.
With a Woman?

Caro.
Yes, and one
Whose spriteliness, whose Beauty's Rays,
Whose every way perfection,
I never to the worth can praise:
And the valiant Felisbrave
(For so she call'd him) went with her,
So contented, brisk, and brave—

Zel.
Peace: It is too much to hear.
Treason against Love, nay High-
Treason? Together did they go?

Clar.
Together.

Zel.
How you lye, you lye—
But (ah!) 'tis true, because it grieves me so.

145

Bid them that Fellow hither bring
I caus'd be seiz'd on.

Claro.
What means this?
But Duty says, know not the thing,
Which hidden by thy Sov'raign is.

Exit.
Zel.
A Man denies to me his Name;
Leaves me, and for another Dame,
And have I yet so much good nature
As to complain of such a Creature?
Go, thou cruel Man to me;
Hope not, I'll my self deplore
Upon thy score:
For, to form Complaints of Thee,
Were to make my favours more.
If, the meer thinking thou wert lov'd,
To remove
Thee could move,
Well thou might'st have not remov'd,
For thou wert not yet belov'd.
If my Will inclin'd a little,
Well that deserv'd thy hope to swell,
Confidence, well;
Well, thy Vanity to tickle;
But it not deserv'd thee fickle.
Thy thus forgetting, doth confess
Thou held'st the victory, secure,
Thy Tryumph sure;
For (whil'st you live) a Happiness
Is Mother of Forgetfulness.

146

O, froward Stars! What I, betray'd?
How can I suffer such a strange
And sudden change?
That I, whom Love fear'd to invade,
Object should of Scorn be made!
Ignoble Knight!
Lover unkind!
Inconstant as the Wind!
If she thy Love requite,
In mid'st of Joyes be sterv'd,
And let unhappiness be once deserv'd.
Art thou a Prince? Fame lies:
“Plain dealing is for Majesties.
“A Prince will falshood flye,
“If but because it argues fear, to Lye.
Seem only wise, in that
Thou be unfortunate;
Earn neither Brass, nor Pen,
To make thee live with Men;
And let thy Name (if it in Fanes they kerve)
For scorn, for pity, nor for pattern, serve.
In thee just jealousie move
A thousand ways, Another
Less lovely, less a Lover.
So short let thy sweets prove
That thy felicity
May be an inch to measure Beauty by.

147

This (who, thy Wife to be,
Seeks, by supplanting Me)
Maist thou love her, like those that foul ones chuse:
May she love thee, as courted fair ones use:
And, if she prove a Bane,
In being immortal, let it seem my pain.
If ye shall disagree,
Live to Eternitie;
If ye love, live a year;
An hour, if fondly dear;
But, do not live a jot;
And let a Faulchion cut your Nuptial Knot.

Enter Rifaloro trembling.
Rif.
O that in fooling tune I were!
But, I am not in tune to fool.
By Hercules, I have a fear,
Withall my strength, I cannot rule.
And, if Rewards for fear were set,
I those from all the World should get.
They say, 'tis Zelidaura's Grace,
Whom I call'd Mad-cap to her face:
So now, must I expect the pay
Of those, who Truths to Great-Ones say.
Give me, Madam—(I recoil)
Offers to approach her, and dares not.
Thy Feet—No—

Zel.
The Servant vile,
He, for that Lye, shall feel my Thunder—
But—If a King could lye, what wonder?


148

Rif.
A Devil, Angeliz'd, is shee.
I tremble like an Aspine Tree:
Each joint's a leaf.

Zel.
What makes this Rascal stay?
Sees him.
Oh! Is he there?

Rif.
Give—Give me (I say.)

Zel.
I'll give thee Death, Impostor. Traitor—

Lifts up her hand, as if to strike him.
Rif.
Hold Thunderbolt of Lillies—

Zel.
Traitor,
How is thy Master call'd?

Rif.
Things seem,
And are not: Man's Life is a dream—

Zel.
His Name—

Rif.
A Servant is all Ear, and sight

Zel.
I'll have his Name—

Rif.
And reason good:
Persiano. (I'm not understood.)

Zel.
Villain, His Name—

Rif.
I say the same
Don Persiano is his Name.

Zel.
Thou triflest with thy Life: Confess—
Offers at him with a Dagger.
Or—

Rif.
Hold then—

Zel.
His true Name express—

Rif.
Per—si—a—no—Angel, stay:
Playing with Hands, is the Clowns play.
In Cypher is his true Name writ:
And I have lost the Key of it.
Falls on his knees.
Weary not thy self, Queen mine:
Racks shall not force it from this Brest:
For, though to Jesting I incline;
I ne're though Knavery a good Jest.

Zel.
A Rogue on Honours points to stand!
In thee it is a sauciness:
('Tis well I knew it before hand:)
And yet, withal, I must confess,

149

This Servant, with the Soul he hath,
Might teach his Master to keep Faith.
What a foul shame 'tis!

Rif.
By the Gods,
Those Sages, who do boast such odds
Of all the World, shall find—We Fools
Are most considerable Tools.

Zel.
The ill-deserved Name to Me
Of Felisbrave is known already:
Who, of Arabia, is gone to be
The petty King, and the Gallant unsteddy.
He Travail'd with Claridiane.
Follow him thou (this Royal Hand
With servile Blood I scorn to stain)
And let thy Master understand;
Though he pretend t'invincible, that I
Will make him, for my trampled footstool, lye;
A Woman, in Revenge; a Soveraign,
In Courage; and a Mistresse, in Disdain.

Rif.
With Claridiane (by Jove)
Did he go?

Zel.
I think thou 'rt glad.

Rif.
Have I not cause, if he can love
A pair of Queens, and make them both run Mad?
The Spanish fashion hath my Vote,
In Mistresses, though not in Diet:
One goes but dully down the Throte,
Six in a Dish the modern Riot.

Zel.
If thy Doctrine, Knave, Men follow;
They had need of a great swallow.


150

Rif.
Two at a clap! why, now he's somebody,
He 'as laid already the trunk-breeches by.
One, was the stint of old; our Fare now mends:
To thy Twin-Sister hast thou no Commends?

Zel.
Away, like Light'ning; tell them their Fate comes:
Scorn clears the Ways, and Ancer beats my Drums.

Rif.
This Queen knows how her Poast to chuse,
That sends a Fool with an ill News.

Exeunt.
Trumpets and Drums Sound a March, and Enter Felisbravo, General and Claridiana, Armed, and People as an Army Marching.
Cla.
This is Arabia.

Fel.
Yon Adamant Wall,
With its proud Tow'rs, at thy kiss'd feet shall fall:
For so resolv'd (though slender) are thy Bands,
To Ammunition they will turn these Sands.

Gen.
A flying Squadron meets us on the Border,
In a loose way, without all Martial Order:
It looks like Peace.

Fel.
To overcome, procure:
“In Traitors looks no signs of Peace are sure.

Trumpets and Drums, and Enter Floranteo with People.
Flo.
Thy warlike Preparations (Queen) suspend:
Gay Purple button, clasp not glitt'ring Steel;
Since now, the People neither Wall defend,
Nor with Usurping Grasp, the Scepter feel.
Enter thy lofty Palace, Roof'd with Gold;
Thy little-spoil'd though much profan'd Abodes;
Chuse, where thou lik'st; and in calm Peace grow old:
“'Tis ill Rebelling against Kings, or Gods.

151

Not, to disturb it Floranteo came;
But, thy disturbed Kingdom, to recover:
To kiss thy hand, as of his Soveraign Dame;
Not, challenge it, as thy presumptuous Lover.

Cla.
Rise, and be second to thy thankful Queen.

Flo.
Wear this Gold Crown first, wreath'd with Laurel-green,
And Olive, which thy Birth, and Virtue, give:
Live long our Queen!

All.
Claridiana, live!

Enter Rifaloro with a Poast-whip in his hand.
Rif.
Rare Post-horses! in less than half an hour
To bring me hither from Tartaria?
My own Barbs (lay'd) would have conveigh'd me slower:
Nor could I have come sooner in a Play.
The Woman is a Harpie: O! that I
Were one of your Wind-mongers, that Cry News;
To relate mine, with strange Romancery:
But, I have no Alliance with those Jews.
Here are Soldiers—That, is hee!
Sir, your Foot; and take my Knee.

Fel.
These Armes, my Rifaloro—Where hast been?
What hast thou done, since thou by me wert seen?

Rif.
The Story's long: Some other tell it Thee,
Who hath no Wit to spoil his Memorie.
Rowse, Sir, with thicker Steel your Breast immure:
Nor Felisbravo, nor Arabia now,
Nor the spectator World, can be secure
From Zelidaura; who, because that thou
Deny'st to her thy Name, and she's alarm'd
With your joint-journey, comes with Terrours Arm'd.


152

Fel.
Thou Slave (it seems) made of the coursest Clay,
A Secret so important didst betray.
But, I'm right serv'd—

Rif.
This 'tis now, to know any
Secret, of one, who tells it unto many.

Fel.
This 'tis, when Kings consort themselves with Grooms.

Rif.
Help (Masters) or, if not, Might, Right o'recomes.

Gen.
What is the matter?

Rif.
Nothing, but the King
Pays Honesty her Wages: A fine thing
It is, to look on; a rare decking (sure)
For a Rich Man; but, 'twill undo a poor;
And be suspected too. So counterfet
Seems the best Jewell when 'tis meanly set.
All, I have gain'd, by being true, was (There)
A Jayl, a Dagger at my Bosome; (Here)
This, which you see. 'Tis time to rest (say I)
And cast safe Anchor upon Knavery.

Fel.
In what a leaking Butt
Have I my Secret put!
No (angry Fair One) No: Not, of thy Blade,
My Life; but, of thy Doubt, my Love's afraid.

Rif.
Thus, do good Actions shine? Is this, the Meed
To faithful silence is decreed?
This of being an honest Man,
Is a lean Office; with Fees none:
It will not keep a Gentleman,
Without some other good Means of his own.
The Foe, in Reason, cannot far off be;
For Zelidaura Marches furiouslie.


153

Cla.
Come all Tartaria with her; here she stands,
Will welcome Her, more Valiant, and less vain:
That barb'rous Warriouress shall, of these Hands,
The Trophy be, the scorn, and the disdain.
Our Self is General.

Gen.
Great Atlas quakes,
A trepidation of the Spheres it makes,
To hear that sound from thee; who, in these Wars,
Wilt Muster Flow'rs, and Lead an Host of Stars.

Fel.
I'll view their Camp, and compt the Enemy.

Cla.
Such a Spy is quickly spy'd:
I fear thy danger.

Fel.
'Twas Wisdom put out Polyphemo's Eye;
That Mountain of swoln Pride.
Come (Rifaloro) by thy Masters side.

Rif.
I fear thy Anger:
Thou tell'st it in this Audience; would'st go hid:
Points to the Spectators.
They, tell it Zelidaura: Then I'm chid.

Gen.
What Audience? The Man dreams—I go with thee.

Rif.
Yes, Let my Fellow go; and I will be
Thy Leidger here.

Flo.
Sir, let me beg the Honour—

Fel.
By no means (Floranteo:) Wait upon her
Fair Majesty. Fear it to me unknown:
And mine's a Business best perform'd alone.

Aside.
Cla.
(I think no less, and hide my fear in vain
Under the silence of my Virgin shame.)

Fel.
'Tis Fear, makes Mortals peep through their disguise:
Unseen, we'll thrid Our Person through their Eyes.
Come, Rifalore.

Rif.
Not I, one of course Earth
Consort with Kings? A Slave of Dunghil Birth?

154

I renounce Honesty, I pray your Grace
Chuse a new Fool, and tye that to the Place.

Cla.
Less of the Lover than the Brave it shows,
Thy self to such wild dangers to expose.
Let common Soldiers hazzard in this kind:
Valour, within due bounds, should be confin'd.

Fel.
If known, I would not fear an Hoast of Men;
Though Arm'd with Fire and Horrour: March on, then.
Dangers I court, and all that Dangers brings:
“For Bullets bear a Reverence to Kings.

Trumpets.
A March.
Exeunt.
Sound Trumpets and Drums, and Enter Zelidaura, Claridoro, Roselinda, and Soldiers.
Zel.
Now, Claridoro, on Arabian Mould
We tread, and have the Enemy in view.

Claro.
Since so much Beauty fights thy Cause, be bould
To write; I Came, was Seen, and did Subdue.

Zel.
Not Love, but Honour, made me March thus far.
A Queen's it is, and not a Woman's War.
If I o'recome, I'll scorn them, as I live:
Two Victories; to Conquer, and Forgive;
On ground that's hard, 'tis easie ground to win:
“But feet, which tread upon the soft, sink in.

Claro.
The Cause I never Zelidaura scann'd,
It must be good which thou dost take in hand:
And, doubt the Conquest, where thou present art,
No more, than whether I should take thy part,
Whose Services are Debts to thee; and when
Thou lett'st me pay thee one, that one grows ten.

155

Thy heav'nly force is unto me so known,
That, though great MARS in SOL's bright Armour shone,
I'th'adverse Camp; I should not fear the day:
For Beauty stole one's Sword, the other's Ray.
But, for thy pardon—That, may spared be:
What greater Death, than to be scorn'd by thee?

Enter a Captain bringing Felisbravo in the Habit of a Countrey Boor or Clown.
Capt.
Madam, This Clown, who seems a Spy,
I bring before thy Majesty:
That thou, from him, maist draw, and know,
The Strength, and Posture, of the Foe.

Zel.
Whom see I? Is't not FELISBRAVE?
'Tis Anger, and not Love, did grave
His Visage here, and my Revenge's Eyes
Have pick'd him out of his obscure Disguise.

Ros.
A Spy thou well might'st think him; feel,
He hath his Cassock lin'd with Steel.
A Gentleman, at least, by this.

Zel.
No, no, a Clown I'm sure he is.
Speak for thy self, art thou not one?

Fel.
A Clown in my Attire alone.

Zel.
In one thing more ('twixt me and you)
Thou sleep'st to One, and wak'st to Two.

Fel.
Me, does your Worship know?

Zel.
At last;
For there is a distance vast
Betwixt a Clown's Tongue, and his Mind:
And his Faith is hard to find.


156

Fel.
Dissembling words, and little faith,
Boast, they Courtly Vices are:
“Nothing more Clownish is, than wrath;
“And Revenge, that none will spare.
Wade not in doubts too far, th'effect
Of which, is bitterness, and rue:
“For (let me tell you) to suspect,
“Is, a kind of sleeping too.
Do not wake Jealous: For, indeed,
'Tis courteous baseness, and no other.
Nor borrow, of thy Clownish Weed,
The Malice, that, is us'd to cover.
He never fled, who wheels about:
And He, who (born for higher Ends)
Did best, when he lay under doubt;
Gallantly his Faith defends.
And He, whose worth in ev'ry thing
(In this I will appeal to LAURA)
Proclaims him not a perfect King,
Deserves not to love ZELIDAURA.

Zel.
Clown, or Spy, or what thou wilt,
Think not t'appease me thou art able:
For justifying a known Guilt,
With Women is impardonable.
Aloud.
Tell me Lab'ring-Man) how strong
Is CLARIDIANA?

Fel.
Hear—
Aside.
(Heavens! how it thunders Vengeance from her Tongue?
Yet still 'tis Musick to my Ear.)

157

Aloud.
Arabia being reduc'd to her obedience,
She hath two Armys of old Soldiers,
Beat to the Trade of War; valiant, and disciplin'd;
In suff'ring, noble: and in acting, bold:
The Goddesse-Queen (whose Beauty doth eclipse
The brightest lustre of the mid-day Sun)
Comes for the General; and in her alone is
Narcissus joyn'd with Sol; Mars with Adonis.
From a Sphere, crown'd with plumes (like Summers Clouds
When the Day feels a Light'ning before Death,
Or Gardens in the Air)
Arm'd with a heav'nly Anger, she discovers
In Thetis Body great Achilles's Soul.
Her Sword cuts more than all those of her Army;
Her Beauty more victorious, then her Sword:
For where's the life so sure that Love can pick
No hole in it, which would not soon surrender
It self into her hands, without more strife,
To sue out a new grant to be a life?
With gallant grace she traverses the Field
Upon a Horse, that pays the vanity,
Infus'd into the Bruit by his fair Burthen,
With mettle, and with motion that keeps time:
His swiftness calls him Dart, his striking fire
A Thunder-bolt, his colour and his gate
Majestick Swan. Like a Ship under sail,
Tossing the foam up, proudly he doth go,
With Plumes for Streamers, Argosie of Snow.

Zel.
With great Latona's Off-spring do not brag,
Least thou be turn'd t' a weeping stone.
Say, 'tis a fine fore-handed Nag,
That hath his paces every one:

158

And lacks (to do a thousand pranks)
Only, to have been foal'd on Betis Banks.
Here's trapping out a Horse withal my heart,
Why, 'twould make one his Bridle break:
Snow, Ship, Swan, Streamers, Thunderbolt, and Dart?
Troth, go but one step more, and make him speak.
A Description call'st thou this?
In blank Verse (of all four lame)
With equal Tropes, and Emphasis,
To Cry a Beast up, and a Dame?

Fel.
Her Beauty then she brings along:
And that's ten thousand Graces strong.

Zel.
Flat jealousie in my Face hurl'd?
(The greatest Clown'ry this i'th'World!)
If, that, I brought, I by did throw;
Shall I catch this he throws me? No,
Let Claridiana come;
With her, her Beauty, and her Felisbrave;
In ev'ry thing I'll her o'recome:
Ev'n in this too, that less of vain I'll have.
Back, Felisbravo; put into each Troop
As much of Courage, as I hope to quail:
To whom thy Fear, and not thy Love, shall stoop;
And I, by Force, not Beauty, will prevail.
Thou art my Pris'ner (foolish Man)
Conquer'd by putting this shape an.
But 'tis not thou shalt pay me: 'Tis my boast,
To pay my self, that which to me thou ow'st.

159

Fight well to day: Since thou dost love
Claridiane;
Let not Twain
Thee reprove;
One Woman call thee Coward, t'other
Twit thee with perfidious Lover.
But, this I'll say; had I lov'd thee,
Thou would'st not thus have used mee:
Nor durst have acted such a valiant Sin,
As unto Me Ungrateful to have bin.

Fel.
Madam, how high an obligation
This lays on me, and on my passion!
A Servant now, that takes no Wages of thee:
But Loves Thee (why?) only to love thee.
In the hearing of the rest.
—Hear me, ZELIDAURA—

Zel.
Turn
This Fellow back to his own Camp:
And (with my glitt'ring Bands) though these Woods burn,
Though, on these plains, my numbers strike a damp.
Tell Felisbravo; Claridore, and I,
Without or Mars, or Sol, their Pow'rs defie.

Aside.
Fel.
Ev'n her Anger, O! how sweet!
I hope my self yet, at her Feet
To prostrate Victory—But no,
To Her.
Her Eyes will snatch it first—I go.
Set thy People in Array.

Zel.
This, Claridoro, is thy day.


160

Claro.
Where thou art, all things must go well.

Zel.
Sound an Alarum.

Fel.
Tole my Knell.

Trumpet a little.
Exeunt.
Enter General with his Sword drawn.
Gen.
Bloody perdition tyrannizing make,
Grim War, that Strewd'st with Carcases the way
To th'first Injustice, which free Mortals broke,
And Iron Scepter plac'd in hand of Clay:
Barbarous Trade, so murmur'd at in vain,
To spur the fiery Coursers of pale Death,
As if Time flagg'd, as if to be humane
Were not Disease enough to stop our Breath.
But, though thou (War) art dire, art full of dread;
There is a Feud more dire, more dreadful far,
When Beauty's bloody Flag (hang'd out and spread
In Virgins Cheeks) proclaims a scornful War.
Love, let me rather be a rough-hand's Prize,
Than the soft Captive of insulting Eyes.

Enter Rifaloro with his Sword drawn.
Rif.
They March to shock these Girls, some small Wit now
Would Lids of Marchpane call, Cæsars of Snow.

Gen.
Why, Rifaloro, Went'st not with Him, Thou?
'Tis not well done to fail thy Duty so.
To jest out faults is an uncomely thing.

Rif.
Can I (that from the Trojan Brutus spring)
That vaunt great Blood, I have much Blood I spill,
Be wanting to the Huff, to the Punctil
Of Honour? Being of the Mountains too,
In which the Heculesses always grew?


161

Gen.
Art thou a Britton then?

Rif.
So brags each one
That would write Gentleman, when he is none.
This day shall set the King high on my score;
For, such an honest Man is Rifalore,
So faithful to his Master, that a Trim
Map of Misfortune might be made of him.
And (see the fate which still attends upon it!)
The scurvy Poet, giving each a Sonnet,
Leaves only me without—But, by the faith
Of a Mahumetan, since thus he hath
Provok'd me to't, upon his skirts I'll sit:
Damme all his Matter, 'cause in Verse 'tis writ:
And, in defiance of the Triple Three,
Promote a Law, importing, that, to bee,
Or not to be, a Poet; shall suffice
To prove, past doubt, one is not, or is, wise.

Gen.
Stand, Rifaloro, to thy Arms: The Drums
Do beat a Charge, and Felisbravo comes.

Rif.
St. whom invoke they?

Gen.
MARS, the God of Wars.

Rif.
St. GEORGE for Us, the Garter'd English Mars.

Exeunt.
Enter Marching at one Door Claridiana, as with an Army, Drums and Files, and her self in the Reare with a Truncheon, and Felisbravo by her side; At the other Door Zelidaura in like manner, with Claridoro before her all Armed,
Cla.
Valiant Arabians, let these barb'rous Troops
(Men built to serve) their bending Foreheads yield:
As, with a fierce South Wind, an Army stoops
Of drowsie Poppies in a barren field.

Zel.
Food for your Steel brave Sons of Tartarie)
Let these soft Peasants of Arabia be:
For, ill can brook the glitt'ring of a Sword,
A Countrey only famous for a Bird.


162

Cla.
In our contention now, not Mars,
But Cupid is the God of Wars.
And (turn'd to tears) thy proud disdain
Puts Love in Arms, makes Heav'n complain.
If thy coming be to wring
From me the famous Persian King;
Though I do love him, I esteem
From thee t'have got him, more than him.
For, 'mongst my Glories, I less prize
My Conquest, than thy Hue and Cryes.

Zel.
To pull this fickle Prince from thee,
Is Honour, and not Love, in me:
For, with so false a Lover, know,
I'll part at all times to a Foe.
To give to him, no hand I bring;
But feet, on both your necks to print:
For, in my greatest Conquering,
And utmost of tyrumphing in't,
Having first punish'd his Inconstancie,
For more Revenge, I'll after give him Thee.

Offers to Charge and Felisbravo throws himself at her Feet.
Fel.
Zelidaura, hold thy Hand:
Conquer not twice a Man unmann'd.
She needs not Weapons, that is fair:
He needs not Death, who hath despair.
Already, of thy generous Feet
I kiss the yoak. In the most sweet
And glorious Cause of Love, let my life owe
To me, the divine choice to lose it so.


163

Zel.
Rise; hence; begone; I will not have thee dye
At thy Election, nor in Courtesie,
But, by my Fauchion: Not, like Felisbrave,
Not, my devoted, but my conquer'd Slave.

Cla.
Stay, Traitor, where thou art: Reveng'd I'll be
Both on the proud, and on the humble: Thee
I'll conquer, and forget; and both your Hearts
(Transfixt with other, than with am'rous Darts)
Under my vext feet trample—

Rif.
Well plaid, Girls:
Mastiffs of Ivory! Dragons of Pearls.

Fel.
I'll have no Battail.

Cla.
The whole Earth a Lake
Of Blood, and Scene of Horrour, I will make.

Rif.
O how Sir Poll, my Grandsire would cry ('S Bears!)
Kings and Queens seen together by the Ears!
Well, there's no flinching now; my strengths I summon:
To see the last Man born and the last Woman.

Zel.
Sound, Sound a Charge.

Cla.
Lock with the Foe.

Fel.
Hold—

Claro.
Charge them home—But, the Heav'ns (loe!)
Rash the Clouds open.

Rif.
Monsieur Jove
Throws (thund'ring) 'twixt them his steel Glove.

Sounds Drums and Trumpets, and let Mars pass over the Stage in a Chariot drawn with Lyons, having in his hand a fiery Lance.
Mars.
CLARIDIANA (second Phœnix of
Arabia) and thou Tartarian Queen
(In whom alone pride is not folly) I
Who (General of Heav'n, and Earths Protector)
Suppress'd the proud Rebellion of the Gyants
In Phlegra's Plains: I, who in burning Troy
(Supplying the bold Greeks with fire and sword)
Saw frighted Xanthus scud 'twixt banks of Cyndars:

164

I, who (through Romes revenging fury) saw
Of the great Carthage scarce one stone remaining
For a dumb witness that she once had been:
I, who upon Iberian Walls beheld
Turbants for Battlements, and Barb'ry Mares
Turn'd loose into the Andalusian Corn:
Now (a Peace-maker) bring, not signs of Wars,
But Leagues confirm'd with Characters of Stars.
The Gods (who call you by a hid impulse
To people the grave Temple, and wast Grove
Of the most chast best Goddess) know, the World
Has not a Prince deserves so high perfections:
For Heav'n is stuck all o're with injur'd Beauties.
Thou, gallant CLARIDORO, Rule (as King)
Great Tartary; and FLORANTEO, thou
Reign in the famous and the fair Arabia.
For the most Valiant Knight, and perfect Lover
(Though ZELIDAURA know not this, or will not)
Let the Great KING of Persia be Crown'd.
Queens lay down Arms; for (to make War on Beasts)
From painted Quivers, at your shoulders hung,
Of Shafts a flying Squadron will suffice.
Diana's Nuns are coming to receive you,
Their Heads with Olive, Flowers, and Laurel bound.
This, in the rolling chambers of the Spheres,
The glorious Heptarchie of Heav'n ordains
By a Law always just, always inviolable.

Drums and Trumpets.
Fel.
Hold, MARS divine; for thou (both Judge and Party)
Envy'st my Flame, whose object doth as far
Outshine thy Mistress, as the Sun a Star!

Claro.
Stay, Soveraign MARS, I'd rather be, than have
The whole Worlds Empire, ZELIDAURA's Slave.


165

Flo.
I, from this sentence, to those Gods appeal,
Who feel more love, or more compassion feel.

Zel.
Princes, resist not Heav'n; for still ye may
Love, without hope; and that's the noblest way.

Cla.
I reverence it, and adore its Laws.

Rif.
A foolish ending! Were't not just
(Into a Cloyster if they must)
Heav'n for these Virgins, did reserve
Some portions, that they may not sterve
When they repent them? And, must not,
After their Dames the Damsels trot?

Ros.
The Damsels stay, for visible Example
To a bad World, in which they are a Temple
And Cloyster to themselves, meaning to live
Not less austere, though less contemplative.

Fel.
I always lov'd thee only, for Love's Cause
And Joy, a glimpse of Hope once blest mine Eyes
Which on his Altar I may sacrifice.

Claro.
Thou, Zelidaura, shalt still guide the Helm:
Whilst I am still the Defender of thy Relm.

To Claridiana.
Flo.
And thou shalt be Arabia's Queen, and mine.

Zel.
Virtues are Kingdoms at Diana's Shrine.
If so, then their Possessions greatest call
Who dispossess themselves of All.

Cla.
Crown Floranteo.

Soldiers.
Thy Feet kisses
Crown Him.
Arabia: Live Crown'd with Blisses.

166

Crown Claridoro.
Live, Claridoro.

Claro.
Cry
Dye, Claridoro, dye.

The Temple opens. Cornets.
Gen.
The Temple opes, the Air rejoices,
Gay Nymphs present sweet Flow'rs and Voices.
They sing within.
Live, Fair Ones, for your Selves, whilst the Men do
Think it enough, if They may Dye for You.

The Queens enter the Temple, from whence many Nymphs come forth to receive them, and therein let Diana appear.
Zel.
I, born was, for my Self alone.

Cla.
The Altar now shall be my Throne.

Claro.
My Love doth no reward pretend.

Flo.
My torment ne're will have an end.

Fel.
To Love only to Love, is Love
“Like that w'are lov'd with from above:
He that hopes, no Love doth bear.

Claro.
Then what should he, that hopes not, fear?

Rif.
It remains now

Gen.
What now remains?

Rif.
That the Magnifick Poet give
Some Thirty Mannours all with large Demains
Amongst the Actors upon which to live;
And do in any Case declare
That All our Worships Cosen Germans are.


167

Gen.
What a Conceipt of a stale date!

Rif.
Sir (for now Men say not, State)
Here endeth the Play
Of for Ever and Aye;
Tiring Female and Male,
Without a Marriage in the Tayle;
And this it doth git
By being Penn'd without Wit.

Immediately upon pronouncing the last words, the Temple or Throne ascended to the Place where it was before (viz the upper Tower of the Castle) and in it Zelidaura and Claridiana seated on either side the Goddess, also some Nymphs; and at the same time (Trumpets and Drums Sounding) the two Armies went Marching off at several doors, the Comedy ending there; and the Festival in a Dance, after the manner of a Tournament by

The Lady Mary Gusman,

The Lady Anne Sandi,

The Lady Margarite Zapata,

The Lady Margarite Tavara,

The Lady Mary Cutinio,

The Lady Frances Tavara,

All Armed in Mens Apparel, and the Dance being ended all the Instruments Sounded out at once.


FINIS Of the Dramatick ROMANCE OF To LOVE only to LOVE.