 | The Combat of Love and Friendship |  |
5
SCEN. 3.
To them Lysander.Lys.
Madam you might have spar'd your messenger,
My own distressed thoughts did prompt me to you,
As to my Tutelar Goddesse.
Art.
So perhaps
You use to Court your other Mistresse too.
Lys.
How Lady? what strange Language do I hear!
Yo'ue strooke a damp into my soul, which but
So soon exhald by those quick beauteous rayes,
Had stifled all my Spirits. Let that tongue
Be blasted, that hath so infected yours.
Art.
The witnesse is not far from hence, My woman,
Who can confirm from your own mouth so much.
Lys.
My own mouth be accurst then. speake Thou monster,
Confesse the truth, for that is it must clear me.
Hyp.
That is, I know the Party, whom you love
As dear as this my mistresse, and can prove it,
Out of your own confession.
Lys.
O the Malice
Of faith-betraying Chambermaids! Nay sure
I cannot dare t' outlive that cursed minute
Which gives my faith suspected to my Mistresse;— (drawes)
Lady, unlock my Breast, and you shall find
A heart as undefild, as is your beauty,
Or if you will not, I can do't my self.
Hyp.
Hold Sir, tis Theocles, her Brother.
Lys.
See I pray the grounds
Of your strong Jealousie. Thy Pardon Virgin:
Yet thou didst ill in holding us so long
In such a strange suspence.
Art.
Beshrew Thee wench
For putting me to such a fright: yet still,— (aside)
Pray heaven it be none other: I suspect
The sword unsheath'd made her conceale the Truth.
6
But Madam I shall shake your faith I fear,
In craving but one favour at your hands.
Art.
What ere it be I'le think th' occasion happy
That may the more oblige you to me, speak it.
Lys.
With much reluctancy and fear t' offend you,
I'm forc't to aske it, and desire you would
Incompasse round your heart with a strong faith
That I can never really forsake you.
'Tis that I may go court Another Mistresse.
Art.
Is this my Brother? Come you need not hide it,
What should you fear my anger, or Offence?
The thing you aske doth free you from all Love,
And consequently fear of me: why should you
Care how I take it, having thus forsaken me?
Lys.
O you are much mistaken Madam; Love,
Excessive love of you, doth force me to it;
Your Bother (in whose blisse I know lyes yours)
Is deep in love with fair Ethusa, who
Stoutly rejects all Entertainment of
His true affection, till her Sister shall
(To whose disposal she hath given her self)
Freely consent, and wish her to it: now
She, more then I desire, affecting me;
Denyes all help to Theocles, unlesse
He also use the self same power on me,
And by that power with me conform me to her;
Could you but now dispence with me a while,
(Without your leave I dare not) I could soon
Effect what he desires, and then return
With as much joy to you, as he that having
Forsaken for a while his native Countrie,
Friends, and his safty too; being come home
Kisses the Soile he left, and counts himself
For all his many dangers and more fears
Happie at least in this, that now he knows
To set a higher rate on the kind favour
Which Heaven at first bestow'd.
Art.
Nay Sir you may
7
I am not, I thank Heaven, so fond to sue,
Or broke for Servants.
Lys.
Thinke not, fairest Mistresse,
That I can ever truly Love but you,
I can in any shape adore your Vertues,
And still reserving in my Constant heart
Your fair Idea, Court another Beauty
With Amorous devotion; but such
As still must rest and point it self in you.
Art.
Sir, that Devotion which adores the Image
May chance perswade It self, that through that Image
It worships the true Deity: but yet
Must Excuse others that do still suspect it
As very like Idolatrie, if not It.
Lys.
Madam that strength of Light, that does incircle
The Pow'rs above, Admits no mortal gaze:
Yet by Reflexion perhaps we may
Gather a glance, or so: As through a glasse
We can outface the Sun, and by those weak
Nerves of our Sense collect those Scatter'd beams,
As they do guild some Wall or Turret, which
By an immediate view beheld, would dart
Flames in our Eyes to punish our Presumption.
So that sometime a Reverence may as well
Keep us from that we love, as Love invite us.
Art.
But Sir, take heed least your Idolatrous love,
Passe not so truly through the fictitious object,
As still remain there: sure the jealous gods
Accept immediate worship, rather then
What's done through th' Image, and comes not to them
But by a Proxie: howso'ere the cause
Which you pretend, with your large promises,
May keep me still the same unto your love,
So that your frequent visits strengthen me
In my much shaken faith.
Lys.
Madam, I leave
My heart with you in pawn, that you may know,
8
That still remains your own.— (Ex. Lysan.)
Art.
Hyperia,
I did not think th' hadst lov'd me, or the truth
So faintly, as for any threatning, to
Conceal ought, prejudicial unto either.
Come, come, I know, for all the cunning carriage,
Ther's more in't then so; your first expressions
Could not well suit with any friend, but Mistress,
Till fear apply'd e'm: but it may be now,
That being over, thou'lt reveal the truth.
I do conjure thee here, by all my favours,
(Which I shall much repent, if thou confess not)
Tell me sincerely, what at first you meant.
Hyp.
Madam, if all the carriage of my life
Have gain'd you this faith of me,
That I can speak any truth at all: believe me now;
If I or know, or think, but that Lysander
Among all women living, loves you onelie,
May I ne'r find your mercy, no nor heavens.
Art.
I cannot yet be confident, I much want
Some forcive Argument to re-establish
My doubtful thoughts.
To them Diarchus.
Hyp.
And here comes one, I'm sure
Will bring you none, your uncle Madam; this
Is he quite poysons all; Lysanders enemie:
Yet hath no reason for't, but that he is
His fathers son.
Diar.
I met Lysander here,
Now comming from you; Neece, I wonder much
You will give entertainment to a man
You know descended from the ancient enemie
To all our familie.
Art.
Pardon me uncle,
If that I be not yet of that opinion;
To think that hate must be successive, or
Malice hereditarie.
Diar.
Yet believe me,
9
Why the son ought not take the fathers part.
Come Neece, be wise; ther's the Noble Count
That loves you well I'm sure: In him you may
Bring honour to your self, and you well know
He has your Fathers free consent.
Art.
But Sir,
I hope I have a suffrage in this Bus'nesse,
My voice too would be ask'd.
Diar.
See, here they come
For the same purpose too, I think.
| The Combat of Love and Friendship | |