University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The Scene is Walks, near the Court.
Enter Celadon, Asteria, meeting each other: he in riding habit; they embrace.
Celedon.

Dear Asteria!

Asteria.

My dear Brother! welcome; a thousand
welcomes: Me thinks this year you have been absent
has been so tedious! I hope as you have made a pleasant Voyage,
so you have brought your good humour back again to Court.

Cel.

I never yet knew any Company I could not be merry in, except
it were an old Womans.

Ast.

Or at a Funeral;

Cel.

Nay, for that you shall excuse me; for I was never merrier
then I was at a Creditors of mine, whose Book perished with him.
But what new Beauties have you at Court? How do Melissa's two
fair Daughters?

Ast.

When you tell me which of 'em you are in love with, I'le
answer you.

Cel.

Which of 'em, naughty sister, what a question's there?
With both of 'em, with each and singular of 'em.

Ast.

Bless me! you are not serious!

Cel.

You look as if it were a wonder to see a man in love: are they
not handsome?

Ast.

I, but both together—

Cel.

I, and both asunder; why, I hope there are but two of 'em,
the tall Singing and Dancing one, and the little Innocent one?

Ast.

But you cannot marry both?

Cel.

No, nor either of 'em I trust in Heaven; but I can keep
them company, I can sing and dance with 'em, and treat 'em, and
that, I take it, is somewhat better then musty marrying them: Marriage
is poor folks pleasure that cannot go to the cost of variety: but
I am out of danger of that with these two, for I love 'em so equally
I can never make choice between 'em: Had I but one mistress, I
might go to her to be merry, and she, perhaps, be out of humour;
there were a visit lost: But here, if one of 'em frown upon me, the
other will be the more obliging, on purpose to recommend her own
gayety, besides a thousand things that I could name.

Ast.

And none of 'em to any purpose.

Cel.

Well, if you will not be cruel to a poor Lover, you might
oblige me by carrying me to their lodgings.

Ast.

You know I am always busie about the Queen.

Cel.

But once or twice onely, till I am a little flush'd in my acquaintance
with other Ladies, and have learn'd to prey for my self:
I promise you I'le make all the haste I can to end your trouble, by being
in love somewhere else.

Ast.

You would think it hard to be deny'd now.

Cel.

And reason good: many a man hangs himself for the loss of
one Mistris; How do you think then I should bear the loss of two;
especially in a Court where I think Beauty is but thin sown.

Ast.

There's one Florimell the Queen's Ward, a new Beauty, as
wilde as you, and a vast Fortune.

Cel.

I am for her before the world: bring me to her, and I'le release
you of your promise for the other two.
Enter a Page.
Madam, the Queen expects you.

Cel.

I see you hold her favour; Adieu Sister, you have a little Emissary
there, otherwise I would offer you my service.

Ast.

Farwel Brother, think upon Florimell.

Cel.

You may trust my memory for an handsome woman,

I'le think upon her, and the rest too; I'le forget none of 'em.

Exit Asteria.

SCENE II.

Enter a Gentleman walking over the Stage hastily: after him, Florimel, and Flavia Masqued.
Fla.

Phormio, Phormio, you will not leave us—

Gent.

In faith I have a little business—

Exit Gentle.

Cel.

Cannot I serve you in the Gentlemans room, Ladies?

Fla.

Which of us would you serve?

Cel.

Either of you, or both of you.

Fla.

Why, could you not be constant to one?

Cel.

Constant to one! I have been a Courtier, a Souldier, and a
Traveller, to good purpose, if I must be constant to one; give
me some Twenty, some Forty, some a Hundred Mistresses, I have
more Love than any one woman can turn her to.

Flor.

Bless us, let us be gone Cousin; we two are nothing in his
hands.

Cel.

Yet for my part, I can live with as few Mistresses as any man:
I desire no superfluities; onely for necessary change or so; as I shift
my Linnen.

Flor.

A pretty odd kind of fellow this: he fits my humour rarely:—

[aside.
Fla.

You are as unconstant as the Moon:

Flor.

You wrong him, he's as constant as the Sun; he would see
all the world round in 24 hours.

Cel.

'Tis very true, Madam, but, like him, I would visit and away.

Flor.

For what an unreasonable thing it were to stay long, be
troublesome, and hinder a Lady of a fresh Lover.

Cel.

A rare Creature this!—besides Madam, how like a fool
a man looks, when after all his eagerness of two Minutes before,
he shrinks into a faint kiss and a cold complement.
Ladies both, into your hands I commit my selfe; share me betwixt
you.

Fla.

I'll have nothing to do with you, since you cannot be constant
to one.

Cel.

Nay, rather then loose either of you, I'll do more;
I'll be constant to an 100 of you: or, (if you will needs fetter me to
one,) agree the matter between your selves; and the most handsome
take me.

Flor.

Though I am not she, yet since my Masque's down, and
you cannot convince me, have a good faith of my Beauty, and for
once I take you for my servant.

Cell.

And for once, I'll make a blind bargain with you: strike
hands; is't a Match Mistriss?

Flor.

Done Servant:

Cel.

Now I am sure I have the worst on't: for you see the worst of
me, and that I do not of you till you shew your face:—
Yet now I think on't, you must be handsome.—

Flor.

What kind of Beauty do you like?

Cel.

Just such a one as yours.

Flor.

What's that?

Cel.

Such an Ovall face, clear skin, hazle eyes, thick brown Eye-browes,
and Hair as you have for all the world.

Fla.

But I can assure you she has nothing of all this.

Cel.

Hold thy peace Envy; nay I can be constant an I set on't.

Flor.

'Tis true she tells you.

Cel.

I, I, you may slander your self as you please; then you
have,—let me see.

Flor.

I'll swear you shan'not see.—

Cel.

A turn'd up Nose: that gives an air to your face: Oh, I find
I am more and more in love with you! a full neather-lip, an out-mouth,
that makes mine water at it: the bottom of your cheeks a
little blub, and two dimples when you smile: for your stature 'tis
well, and for your wit 'twas given you by one that knew it had
been thrown away upon an ill face; come you are handsome, there's
no denying it:

Flor.

Can you settle your spirits to see an ugly face, and not be
frighted, I could find in my heart to lift up my Masque and disabuse you.

Cel.

I defie your Masque, would you would try the experiment:

Flor.

No, I won'not; for your ignorance is the Mother of your
devotion to me.

Cel.

Since you will not take the pains to convert me I'll make bold

to keep my faith: a miserable man I am sure you have made me.

Fla.

This is pleasant.

Cel.

It may be so to you but it is not to me; for ought I see, I am
going to be the most constant Maudlin.—

Flor.

'Tis very well, Celadon, you can be constant to one you have
never seen; and have forsaken all you have seen.

Cel.

It seems you know me then: well, if thou shou'dst prove one
of my cast Mistresses I would use thee most damnably, for offering
to make me love thee twice.

Flor.

You are i'th' right: an old Mistriss or Servant is an old
Tune, the pleasure on't is past, when we have once learnt it.

Fla.

But what woman in the world would you wish her like?

Cel.

I have heard of one Florimel the Queens Ward, would she
were as like her for Beauty, as she is for Humour.

Fla.

Do you hear that Cousin:

(to Flor. aside)
Flor.

Florimell's not handsome: besides she's unconstant; and only
loves for some few days,

Cel.

If she loves for shorter time then I, she must love by Winter
daies and Summer nights ifaith:

Flor.

When you see us together you shall judge: in the mean time
adieu sweet servant.

Cel.

Why you won'not be so inhumane to carry away my heart
and not so much as tell me where I may hear news on't?

Flor.

I mean to keep it safe for you; for if you had it, you would bestow
it worse: farwell, I must see a Lady:

Cel.

So must I too, if I can pull off your Masque—

Flor.

You will not be so rude, I hope;

Cel.

By this light but I will:

Flor.

By this leg but you shan not:

Exeunt Flor. & Flavia running.

SCENE. III.

Enter Philocles, and meets him going out.
Cel.
How! my Cousin the new Favourite!—

[aside.
Phil.
Dear Celadon! most happily arriv'd.
I hear y'have been an honour to your Country
In the Calabrian Wars, and I am glad
I have some interest in't.

Cel.
—But in you
I have a larger subject for my joyes:
To see so rare a thing as rising vertue,
And merit understood at Court.

Phil.
Perhaps it is the onely act that can
Accuse our Queen of weakness.

Enter Lysimantes attended.
Lys.
O, my Lord Philocles, well overtaken!
I came to look you

(Phil.)
had I known it sooner
My swift attendance, Sir, had spar'd your trouble.
To Cel.
—Cousin, you see Prince Lysimantes
Is pleased to favour me with his Commands:
I beg you'l be no stranger now at Court.

Cel.
So long as there be Ladies there, you need
Not doubt me.
Exit Celadon.

Phil.
Some of them will, I hope, make you a Convert.

Lys.
My Lord Philocles, I am glad we are alone;
There is a busines that concerns me nearly,
In which I beg your love.

(Phil.)
Command my service.

Lys.
I know your Interest with the Queen is great;
(I speak not this as envying your fortune,
For frankly I confess you have deserv'd it.)
Besides, my Birth, my Courage, and my Honour,
Are all above so base a Vice—

Phil.
I know, my Lord, you are first Prince o'th' Blood;
Your Countries second hope;
And that the publick Vote, when the Queen weds,
Designes you for her choice.

Lys.
I am not worthy.
Except Love makes desert;
For doubtless she's the glory of her time;
Of faultless Beauty, blooming as the Spring,
In our Sicilian Groves; matchless in Vertue,
And largely sould, where ere her bounty-gives,
As with each breath she could create new Indies.

Phil.
But jealous of her glory.

Lys.
You are a Courtier; and in other terms,
Would say she is averse from marriage
Least it might lesson her authority.
But, whensoe're she does, I know the people
Will scarcely suffer her to match
With any neighb'ring Prince, whose power might bend
Our free Sicilians to a foreign Yoke.

Phil.
I love too well my Country to desire it.

Lys.
Then to proceed, (as you well know, my Lord)
The Provinces have sent their Deputies
Humbly to move her she would choose at home:
And, for she seems averse from speaking with them,
By my appointment, have design'd these walks,
Where well she cannot shun them. Now, if you
Assist their suit, by joyning yours to it,
And by your mediation I prove happy,
I freely promise you.—

Phil.
Without a Bribe command my utmost in it:—
And yet, there is a thing, which time may give me
The confidence to name:—

(Lys.)
'Tis yours whatever.
But tell me true; does she not entertain
Some deep, and setled thoughts against my person?

Phil.
I hope not so; but she, of late, is froward;
Reserv'd, and sad, and vex'd at little things;
Which, her great soul asham'd of, straight shakes off,
And is compos'd again.

Lys.
You are still near the Queen, and all our Actions come to
Princes eyes, as they are represented by them that hold the mirour.

Phil.
Here she comes, and with her the Deputies;—
I fear all is not right,

Enter Queen; Deputies after her; Asteria, Guard, Flavia, Olinda, Sabina.
Queen turns back to the Deputies, and speaks entring.
Qu.
And I must tell you,
It is a sawcy boldness thus to press.
On my retirements.—

1. Dep.
Our business being of no less concern
Then is the peace and quiet of your Subjects—
and that delay'd—

2. Dep.
—we humbly took this time
To represent your peoples fears to you.

Qu.
My peoples fears! who made them States-men?
They much mistake their business, if they think
It is to govern:
The Rights of Subjects and of Soveraigns
Are things distinct in Nature: theirs, is to
Enjoy Propriety, not Empire.

Lys.
If they have err'd, 'twas but an over-care;
An ill-tim'd Duty.—

Qu.
Cousin, I expect
From your near Bloud, not to excuse, but check 'em.
They would impose a Ruler
Upon their Lawful Queen:
For what's an Husband else;

Lys.
Fair, Madam, be it from the thoughts
Of any who pretends to that high Honour,
To wish for more then to be reckon'd
As the most grac'd, and first of all your servants.

Qu.
These are th'insinuating promises
Of those who aim at pow'r: but tell me Cousin;
(For you are unconcern'd and may be Judge)
Should that aspiring man compass his ends,
What pawn of his obedience could he give me,
When Kingly pow'r were once invested in him?

Lys.
What greater pledge then Love? when those fair eyes
Cast their commanding beams, he that cou'd be
A Rebel to your birth, must pay them homage.

Qu.
All eyes are fair
That sparkle with the Jewels of a Crown:
Put now I see my Government is odious;
My people find I am not fit to Reign,
Else they would never—

Lys.
So far from that, we all acknowledge you
The bounty of the Gods to Sicilie:
More than they are you cannot make our Joyes;
Make them but lasting in a Successor.

Phil.
Your people seek not to impose a Prince;
But humbly offer one to your free chioce:
And such an one he is, (may I have leave
To speak some little of his great deserts.)

Qu.
I'le hear no more—
To the Dep.
For you, attend to morrow at the Council,
There you shall have my firm resolves; mean time
My Cousin I am sure will welcome you.

Lys.

Still more and more mysterious: but I have gain'd one of her
women that shall unriddle it:—Come Gentlemen.—

All Dep.
Heav'n preserve your Majesty.

Exeunt Lysimantes and Deputies.
Qu.
Philocles you may stay:

Phil.
I humbly wait your Majesties commands.

Qu.
Yet, now I better think on't, you may go.

Phil.
Madam!

Qu.
I have no commands.—or, what's all one
You no obedience.

Phil.
How, no obedience, Madam?
I plead no other merit; 'tis the Charter
By which I hold your favour, and my fortunes.

Qu.
My favours are cheap blessings, like Rain and Sun-shine,
For which we scarcely thank the Gods, because
we daily have them.

Phil.
Madam, your Breath which rais'd me from the dust
May lay me there again
But fate nor time can ever make me loose
The sense of your indulgent bounties to me

Qu.
You are above them now; grown popular:
Ah Philocles, could I expect from you
That usage I have found! no tongue but yours
To move me to a marriage?—
[weeps
The factious Deputies might have some end in't,
And my ambitious Cousin gain a Crown;
But what advantage could there come to you?
What could you hope from Lysimantes Reign
That you can want in mine?

Phil.
You your self clear me, Madam, had I sought
More pow'r, this Marriage sure was not the way.
But, when your safety was in question.
When all your people were unsatisfied,
Desir'd a King, nay more, design'd the Man,
It was my duty then.—

Qu.
Let me be judge of my own safety;
I am a woman,
But danger from my Subjects cannot fright me.

Phil.
But Lysimantes, Madam, is a person—

Qu.
I cannot love,—
Shall I, I who am born a Sovereign Queen,
Be barr'd of that which God and Nature gives
The meanest Slave, a freedom in my love?
—Leave me, good Philocles, to my own thoughts;
When next I need your counsel I'le send for you—

Phil.
I'm most unhappy in your high displeasure;
But, since I must not speak, Madam, be pleas'd
To peruse this, and therein, read my care:

He plucks out a paper, and presents it to her. But drops, unknown to him a picture;
Queen.
reads.—
Exit Philocles.
A Catalogue of such persons—
Spies the box.
What's this he has let fall? Asteria?

Ast.
Your Majesty—

Qu.
Take that up, it fell from Philocles.

She takes it up, looks on it, and smiles.
Qu.
How now, what makes you merry?

Ast.
A small discovery I have made, Madam;

Qu.
Of what?

Ast.
Since first your Majesty grac'd Philocles,
I have not heard him nam'd for any Mistriss
But now this picture has convinc'd me.—

Qu.
Ha! Let me see it
(Snatches it from her.)
Candiope, Prince Lysimantes sister!

Ast.
Your favour, Madam, may encourage him—
And yet he loves in a high place for him:
A Princess of the Blood, and what is more,
Beyond comparison the fairest Lady
Our Isle can boast.—

Qu.
How! she the fairest
Beyond comparison? 'tis false, you flatter her;
She is not fair.—

Ast.
I humbly beg forgiveness on my knees,
If I offended you: But next yours, Madam,
Which all must yield to—

Qu.
I pretend to none.

Ast.
She passes for a beauty.

Qu.
I, She may pass.—But why do I speak of her?
Dear Asteria lead me, I am not well o'th sudden.—

[She faints
Ast.
Who's near there? help the Queen.

The Guards are coming,
Qu.
Bid 'em away, 'twas but a qualm,
And 'tis already going.—

Ast.
Dear Madam what's the matter! y'are
of late so alter'd I scarce know you.
You were gay humour'd, and you now are pensive,
Once calm, and now unquiet;
Pardon my boldness that I press thus far
Into your secret thoughts: I have at least
A subjects share in you.

Qu.
Thou hast a greater,
That of a friend; but am I froward, saist thou!

Ast.
It ill becomes me, Madam, to say that.

Qu.
I know I am: prithee forgive me for it.
I cannot help it, but thou hast
Not long to suffer it.

Ast.
Alas!

Qu.
I feel my strength insensibly consume,
Like Lillies wasting in a Lymbecks heat.
Yet a few dayes—
And thou shalt see me lie all damp and cold,
Shrowded within some hollow Vault, among
My silent Ancestors.

Ast.
O dearest Madam!
Speak not of death, or think not, if you die
That I will stay behind.

Qu.
Thy love has mov'd me, I for once will have
The pleasure to be pitied; I'le unfold
A thing so strange, so horrid of my self;—

Ast.
Bless me, sweet Heaven!
So horrid, said you, Madam?

Qu.
That Sun, who with one look surveys the Globe,
Sees not a wretch like me: and could the world
Take a right measure of my state within,
Mankind must either pity me, or scorn me.

Ast.
Sure none could do the last.

Qu.
Thou long'st to know it:
And I to tell thee, but shame stops my mouth.
First promise me thou wilt excuse my folly,
And next be secret.—

Ast.
—Can you doubt it Madam!

Qu.
Yet you might spare my labours
Can you not guess—

Ast.
Madam, please you, I'le try.

Qu.
Hold: Asteria:
I would not have you guess, for should you find it
I should imagine, that some other might,
And then, I were most wretched.
Therefore, though you should know it, flatter me:
And say you could not guess it.—

Ast.
Madam, I need not flatter you, I cannot.—and yet,
Might not Ambition trouble your repose?

Qu.
My Sicily I thank the Gods, contents me.
But since I must reveal it, know 'tis love:
I who pretended so to glory, am
Become the slave of love.—

Ast.
I thought your Majesty had fram'd designes
To subvert all your Laws; become a Tyrant,
Or vex your neighbours with injurious wars;
Is this all? Madam?

Qu.
Is not this enough?
Then, know, I love below my self; a Subject;
Love one who loves another, and who knows not
That I love him.

Ast.
He must be told it, Madam.

Qu.
Not for the world: Asteria:
When ere he knows it I shall die for shame.

Ast.
What is it then that would content you?

Qu.
Nothing, but that I had not lov'd?

Ast.
May I not ask without offence who 'tis?

Qu.
Ev'n that confirms me I have lov'd amiss;
Since thou canst know I love, and not imagine
It must be Philocles

Ast.
My Cousin is indeed a most deserving person;
Valiant and wise; and handsome; and well born,

Qu.
But not of Royal bloud:
I know his fate unfit to be a King.
To be his wife I could forsake my Crown; but not my glory:
Yet,—would he did not love Candiope;
Would he lov'd me,—but knew not of my love,
Or ere durst tell me his:

Ast.
In all this Labyrinth,
I find one path conducing to your quiet,

Qu.
O tell me quickly then.

Ast.
Candiope, as Princess of the Bloud
Without your approbation cannot marry:
First break his match with her, by vertue of
Your Sovereign Authority.

Qu.
I fear. That were to make him hate me.
Or, what's as bad, to let him know I love him:
Could you not do it of your self?

Ast.
Ile not be wanting to my pow'r
But if your Majesty appears not in it
The love of Philocles will soon surmount
All other difficulties.

Qu.
Then, as we walk, we'l think what means are best
Effect but this, and thou shar'st halfe my breast.

Exeunt.