 | The Combat of Love and Friendship |  |
3
SCEN. II.
Artemone, Hyperia.Art.
O wench, ne're trust 'em, th'are th'unconstans't
Things in all the world,
They still exclaim on us; tell us
We are more wavering then our feathers,
And that we change more often then the Moon,
With such like sickly Fancies. But if
'Twere so, in them the cause is;
Had but men a care, still to observe,
And please us as at first, we
Still should be the same; our fancies never change;
But the object alters, and then we
Out of our Constancy, are forc't to chuse
Another, which may please as that did first.
Hyp.
But Madam,
I do hope you finde no reason to apply
Ought of this to your Lysander.
Art.
No? what think you then
Of his long absence?
Hyp.
What some two dayes? I promise you
I know some Lovers, and those of the best file too,
That do presume more on their Mistress favours:
As there's your stalking Signior, he that comes
Hither a wooing still in state, that tells
Long stories of his Pedigrees, and Honours,
In stead of Amorous Passions.
Art.
Who, Philonax?
Hyp.
Yes, he that scorns to wooe the common way,
But keeps his distance still, and courts by the Rule:
So much a day: observes a kinde of dyet
In all his wooing: Sooth wer't to me, I'de make
His stately hams to cringe before I had him,
And afterward let me alone.
Art.
I prethee tell, how has Lysander brib'd thee
4
Hyp.
True Madam,
I'ue been brib'd; but by his vertues,
His fair Respects to you, and noble Carriage.
Art.
Ha, ha, ha.—
Hyp.
Indeed I do confesse, it is not usual
Amongst us Chamber-Creatures to be brib'd
With such uncoyned mettal.
Art.
I believe thee;
But prithee tell me true, does he not use
To charme thy Tongue by some more powerful motive,
And chaine it to himself in golden Links?
Come, come, I know he still does use thee kindly,
Cause Thou belong'st to me.
Hyp.
Madam, I hope
You are not Jealous of me, yet Ile tell you
All that I know, though not as to Create
A good Opinion in you, but confirm
That which you do conceive already of Him.
He's truly Generous, but far from Bribing:
For sure, I think, he cannot be so unjust
To his own Merits, as distrust 'em so
To think they want a mercenary Advocate.
Art.
Nay, but, I prethee, haste to his Opinion
Concerning me.
Hyp.
He thinkes, as all do else,
You are Perfections Store-house, and does love
One onely in the world as well as you.
Art.
O Hyperia!
And canst Thou call him faithful which dos pledge
His faith to more then one? That, That is it
Which I have still suspected, and it cuts
My very heart strings.
Hyp.
But Madam here he comes,
I hope will Cure 'em strait.
| The Combat of Love and Friendship | |