University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Enter Philander, Dion, Urania, and Thalia.
Philocles.
Welcome, Philander, to the Court, and me;
May all our Meetings give you Joy like this.
Lift up your Eyes, great Sir, and see the fairest,
The purest, Work of the creating Hand;
Behold your own Urania.

Aristarchus.

[Urania goes towards the King, and kneels.
If, royal Sir, you can forgive a Maid,
That left a Court, my Father, and my King,
To be Companion to an exil'd Man,
Pour down your Grace on me: that I repent
I cannot say, or if I shou'd, that Word
Wou'd sink the Merit of my Love; a Love,
Which nor the Baits of Empire, nor the Frowns
Of Majesty, a Parent, nor of Fortune,
Nor any Pow'r, except the Foe of Life,
Can drive from my sincere, afflicted, Heart;
A Heart too fix'd, too faithful, to admit
A Rival to Philander.

Aristarchus.
Rise, my Child,
And be uninterrupted Joy your Dow'r.
Here, with this Kiss, which a fond Parent gives,
I freely grant thee Privilege to ask
All that the Fondness of thy Soul can wish;
Which I will answer, to my Stretch of Pow'r,
With all th' Indulgence of a tender Father.

Urania.
My late Offence, I cannot say my Crime,
May tell my royal Father what Request
Is nearest to my Heart: why did I fly
The Court and you, but for Philander's Love?

Aristarchus.
O! had I known thee safe beneath the Care
Of thy belov'd, Affliction had not layed
Her Hand so heavy on me: my fond Fears
Fram'd the sad Image of my Age's Darling
Roving regardless of herself, no Guide
But her own Frenzy, and uncertain Chance:
Now I have found thee, I with Joy bequeath thee
Another's Right thro Life. Philander, take her,
And, in bestowing her, think that I give thee
What's dearer to me than my Crown. Thou know'st
My strict Attachment to my royal Word,
Plighted to Philocles, was the sole Cause
Of our late short, but tedious, Separation:
Be that forgot; and let one Face of Joy
Now thro our Isle be seen. The Prince of Rhodes,
Gen'rous as royal, has subdu'd his Heart,
And pleaded for his Rival. Now, my Son,
With a glad Mind, and an unbroken Vow,
I give her to thee: be your Hours of Joy
According to your Virtues.

Philander.
Royal Sir,
Words cannot well express the Worth supreme
Of the fair Gift; and since they can not speak
My Sense of Gratitude, my Actions shall:
To her Desires I will devote my Days,
And by my future Deeds approve myself
A loyal Subject, and a duteous Son.
Forgive me, Philocles, thou bright Example
Of princely Virtue, my too long Delay
Of rend'ring Thanks for thy Benevolence.
Prince, from this Hour you may command my Sword;
To you my Heart's in sacred Friendship join'd,
And Gratitude's my Bond, which Death alone
Shall cancel from my Heart.

Philocles.
My Fate deny'd
That I shou'd be successful in my Love,
But, in Exchange, has bless'd me with a Friend,
Whose Virtues will adorn the great Allyance.
Urania, fruitful be your nuptial Bed:
You only cou'd deserve the Man, whose Worth
Gives him a Title to the lovely'st Maid.
When I have seen the marriage Rites fulfill'd,
I'll sail to Rhodes, where ev'ry rising Sun
Shall witness to my zealous Pray'rs, preferr'd
For the Continuance of our mutual Safety.

Philander.
For which I'll breath my dayly Vows to Heav'n.
Now that my Friend may be as bless'd as I am,
Dion, receive what your unsully'd Faith,
And your brave Soul have merited from me.
Thalia, now in giving thee to Dion,
I give thee, what thou can'st not prize too much,
An honourable Husband. The same Hour,
In which the Priest shall join me to Urania,
Shall give my much lov'd Sister to my Friend.

Dion.
All that I beg'd of Heav'n I now receive
From you; without your Friendship and her Love
The Pomp and Wealth of Empires wou'd but serve
To dress Affliction with the Face of Joy.

Philander.
Urania, heav'nly Fair, from our Example
May future Lovers learn to persevere
In Constancy and Virtue: tho awhile
The Parent may oppose the growing Passion,
The kindly Workings of paternal Love,
Urg'd by the voice of Reason, plead too strongly
To be withstood; or shou'd a Father prove
Deaf to the Dictates of th' unerring Guide,
Immortal Reason, sad Experience soon
Wou'd teach him his Mistake, wou'd load his Age
With Woes, the Fruit of his obdurate Heart:
This Truth the godlike Aristarchus knows,
Who wisely listen'd to the Voice divine,
That pointed out the Way to Happyness
To us and to himself. Honour and Love
Now triumph Hand in Hand; and my fond Heart
Bounds raptur'd with Extravagance of Bliss.
With Joys unnumber'd are their Moments crown'd,
With Virtue whose sincere Affections move;
Pleasures, by Vice unsully'd, wait around
Where spotless Honour makes the Bed of Love.