University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE of the Act, The Court Gallery.
Philocles, Solus.
Phil.
Enter Queen and Asteria.

(is going out.)
Qu.

Is not that Philocles
who makes such haste away? Philocles, Philocles—

[Philocles coming back,
[I fear'd she saw me.

Qu.
How now Sir, am I such a Bugbear
That I scare people from me?

Phil.
'Tis true, I should more carefully have shun'd
The place where you might be; as, when it thunders
Men reverently quit the open Air
Because the angry Gods are then abroad.

Qu.
What does he mean, Asteria?
I do not understand him.

Ast.
Your Majesty forgets you banish'd him,
Your presence for this day.—

[to her softly.
Qu.
Ha! banish'd him! 'tis true indeed;
But, as thou sayst, I had forgot it quite.—

to her.
Ast.
That's very strange, scarce half an hour ago.

Qu.
But Love had drawn his pardon up so soon
That I forgot he e're offended me.

Phil.
Pardon me, that I could not thank you sooner:
Your sudden grace, like some swift flood pour'd in on narrow bancks
O'reflow'd my spirits.

Qu.
No; 'tis for me to aske your pardon Philocles,
For the great injury I did you
In not remembring I was angry with you.
But I'le repair my fault,
And rowze my anger up against you yet:

Phil.
No, Madam, my forgiveness was your Act of grace
And I lay hold of it.

Qu.
Princes sometimes may pass,
Acts of Oblivion in their own wrong:

Phil.
'Tis true; but not recall them.

Qu.
But, Philocles, since I have told you there is one I love.
I will go on; and let you know
What passed this day betwixt us; be you judg
Whether my servant have dealt well with me.

Phil.
I beseech your Majesty excuse me:
Any thing more of him may make me
Relapse too soon, and forfeit my late pardon.

Qu.
But you'l be glad to know it.

Phil.
May I not hope then
You have some quarrel to him?

Qu.
Yes, a great one.
But first, to justifie my self
Know, Philocles, I have conceal'd my passion
With such care from him, that he knows not yet
I love, but onely that I much esteem him.

Phil.
O stupid wretch
That by a thousand tokens could not guess it!

Qu.
He loves elsewhere, and that has blinded him.

Phil.
He's blind indeed!
So the dull Beasts in the first Paradise
With levell'd eyes gaz'd each upon their kind;
There fix'd their love: and ne're look'd up to view
That glorious Creature man, their soveraign Lord.

Qu.
Y'are too severe, on little faults, but he has crimes, untold,
Which will, I fear, move you much more against him.
He fell this day into a passion with me,
And boldly contradicted all I fed.

Phil.
And stands his head upon his Shoulders yet?
How long shall this most insolent—

Qu.
Take heed you rail not,
You know you are but on your good behaviour.

Phil.
Why then I will not call him Traytor—
But onely rude, audacious and impertinent,
To use his Soveraign so.—I beg your leave
To wish you have, at least imprison'd him.

Qu.
Some people may speak ill, and yet mean well:
Remember you were not confin'd; and yet
Your fault was great. In short, I love him
And that excuses all; but be not jealous;
His rising shall not be your overthrow,
Nor will I ever marry him.—

Phil.
That's some comfort yet
He shall not be a King.

Qu.
He never shall. But you are discompos'd;
Stay here a little; I have somewhat for you
Shall shew you still are in my favour.

[Exeunt Queen and Asteria.
Enter to him Candiope weeping.
Phil.
How now, in tears, my fair Candiope?
So through a watry Clowd
The Sun at once seems both to weep and shine.
For what Forefathers sin do you afflict
Those precious eyes? for sure you have
None of your own to weep.

Cand.
My Crimes both great and many needs must show
Since Heav'n will punish them with loosing you.

Phil.
Afflictions sent from Heav'n without a cause
Make bold Mankind enquire into its Laws.
But Heav'n, which moulding beauty takes such care
Makes gentle fates on purpose for the fair:
And destiny that sees them so divine,
Spinn's all their fortunes in a silken twine:
No mortal hand so ignorant is found
To weave course work upon a precious ground.

Cand.
Go preach this doctrine in my Mother's ears.

Phil.
Has her severity produc'd these tears:

Cand.
She has recall'd those hopes she gave before,
And strictly bids me ne're to see you more.

Phil.
Changes in froward age are Natural;
Who hopes for constant weather in the fall?
'Tis in your pow'r your duty to transfer
And place that right in me which was in her.

Cand.
Reason, like foreign foes, would ne're o'recome,
But that I find I am betray'd at home.
You have a friend that fights for you within.

Phil.
Let Reason ever lose, so love may win.

Enter Queen and Asteria.
Queen with a Picture in her hand.
Qu.
See there, Asteria,
All we have done succeeds still to the worse;
We hindred him from seeing her at home,
Where I but onely heard they lov'd; and now
She comes to Court, and mads me with the sight on't.

Ast.
Dear Madam. overcome your self a little,
Or they'l perceive how much you are concern'd.

Qu.
I struggle with my heart,—but it will have some vent.
[To Cand.]
Cousin, you are a stranger at the Court.

Cand.
It was my duty I confess,
To attend oftner on your Majesty.

Qu.
Asteria, Mend my Cousins Handkerchief;
It sits too narrow there, and shows too much
The broadness of her Shoulders.—Nay fie, Asteria,
Now you put it too much backward, and discover
The bigness of her breasts.

Cand.
I beseech your Majesty
Give not your self this trouble,

Qu.
Sweet Cousin, you shall pardon me;
A beauty such as yours
Deserves a more then ordinary care,
To set it out.
Come hither, Philocles, do but observe,
She has but one gross fault in all her shape,
That is, she bears up here too much,
And the malicious Workman has left it open to your eye.

Phil.
Where, and 'please your Majesty, methinks 'tis very well?

Qu.
Do not you see it, Oh how blind is love!

Cand.
And how quick-sighted malice!—

[Aside.
Qu.
But yet methinks, those knots of sky, do not
So well with the dead colour of her face.

Ast.
Your Majesty mistakes, she wants no red.

The Queen here plucks out her Glass, and looks sometimes on her self, sometimes on her Rival.
Qu.
How do I look to day, Asteria!
Methinks not well.

Ast.
Pardon me, Madam, most victoriously.

Qu.
What think you Philocles? come do not flatter.

Phil.
Paris was a bold man who presum'd
To judg the beauty of a Goddess.

Cand.
Your Majesty has given the reason why
He cannot judge; his Love has blinded him:

Qu.
Methinks a long patch here beneath her eye
Might hide that dismal hallowness, what think you Philocles?

Cand.
Beseech you Madam, aske not his opinion;
What my faults are it is no matter;
He loves me with them all.

Qu.
I, he may love, but when he marries you
Your Bridal shall be kept in some dark Dungeon.
Farwel, and think of that, too easie Maid,
I blush, thou shar'st my bloud.—

Exeunt Queen, Asteria.
Cand.
In humane Queen!
Thou canst not be more willing to resign
Thy part in me, then I to give up mine:

Phil.
Love, how few Subjects do thy Laws fulfil,
And yet those few, like us, thou usest ill!

Cand.
The greatest slaves, in Monarchies, are they,
Whom Birth sets nearest to Imperial sway.
While jealous pow'r does sullenly o're spy,
We play like Deer within the Lions eye.
Would I for you some Shepherdess had been;
And, but each May, ne're heard the name of Queen.

Phil.
If you were so, might I some Monarch be,
Then, you should gain what now you loose by me:
Then, you in all my glories should have part,
And rule my Empire, as you rule my heart.

Cand.
How much our golden wishes are in vain?
When they are past we are our selves again.

Enter Queen and Asteria above.
Qu.
Look, look Asteria, yet they are not gone.
Hence, we may hear what they discourse alone.

Phil.
My Love inspires me with a gen'rous thought
Which you unknowing, in those wishes taught.
Since happiness may out of Courts be found
Why stay we here on this enchanted ground?
And choose not rather with content to dwell
(If Love and we can find it) in a Cell?

Cand.
Those who, like you, have once in Courts been great,
May think they wish, but wish not to retreat.
They seldom go but when they cannot stay;
As loosing Gamesters throw the Dice away:
Ev'n in that Cell, where you repose would find,
Visions of Court will haunt your restless mind;
And glorious dreams stand ready to restore
The pleasing shapes of all you had before.

Phil.
He, who with your possession once is blest,
On easie terms may part with all the rest.
All my Ambition will in you be crown'd;
And those white Arms shall all my wishes bound,
Our life shall be but one long Nuptial day,
And, like chaf't Odours, melt in sweets away.
Soft as the Night our Minutes shall be worn,
And chearful as the Birds that wake the Morn.

Cand.
Thus hope misleads it self in pleasant way;
And takes mores joyes on trust then Love can pay!
But Love, with long possession, once decayd,
That face which now you Court, you will upbraid.

Phil.
False Lovers broach these tenets, to remove
The fault from them by placing it on Love.—

Cand.
Yet grant in Youth you keep alive your Fire,
Old age will come, and then it must expire:
Youth but a while does at Loves Temple stay,
As some fair Inn to lodge it on the way.

Phil.
Your doubts are kind; but to be satisfy'd,
I can be true, I beg I may be try'd.

Cand.
Tryals of love too dear the making cost;
For, if successless, the whole venture's lost.
What you propose, brings wants and care along.

Phil.
Love can bear both.

(Cand.)
but is your love so strong?

Phil.
They do not want, who wish not to have more;
Who ever said an Anchoret was poor?

Cand.
To answer gen'rously as you have done,
I should not by your arguments be wonn:
I know I urge your ruine by consent;
Yet love too well that ruine to prevent.

Phil.
Like water giv'n to those whom Feavers fry,
You kill but him, who must without it die.

Cand.
Secure me I may love without a Crime;
Then, for our flight, appoint both place and time.

Phil.
Th'ensuing hour my plighted vows shall be;
The time's not long; or onely long to me.

Cand.
Then, let us go where we shall ne'r be seen
By my hard Mother.

(Phil.)
or my cruel Queen.

Queen.
above.
O Philocles unkind to call me cruel!
Exeunt Phil. Cand.
So false Æneas did from Dido fly;
But never branded her with cruelty.
How I despise my self for loving so!

Ast.
At once you hate your self and love him too.

Qu.
No, his ingratitude has cur'd my wound:
A painful cure indeed!

(Ast.)
and yet not found.
His ignorance of your true thoughts
Excuses this; you did seem cruel, Madam.

Qu.
But much of kindness still was mix'd with it.
Who could mistake so grossy not to know
A Cupid frowning when he draws his Bowe?

Ast.
He's going now to smart for his offence:

Qu.
Should he without my leave depart from hence?

Ast.
No matter; since you hate him, let him go.

Qu.
But I my hate by my revenge will show:
Besides, his head's a forfeit to the State.

Ast.
When you take that I will believe you hate.
Let him possess, and then he'll soon repent
And so his Crime will prove his punishment.

Qu.
He may repent; but he will first possess:

Ast.
O, Madam, now your hatred you confess:
If, his possessing her your rage does move,
'Tis jealousie the avarice of love.

Qu.
No more, Asteria.
Seek Lysimantes out, bid him set Guards through all the Court and City.
Prevent their marriage first; then stop their flight.
Some fitting punishments I will ordain,
But speak not you of Philocles again:
'Tis bold to search, and dangerous to find,
Too much of Heaven's, or of a Princes mind.

[Qu. descends and exit.
As the Queen has done speaking, Flavia is going hastily over the Stage; Asteria sees her.
Ast.
Flavia, Flavia, Whither so fast?

Flav.
Did you call, Asteria?

Ast.
The Queen has business with Prince Lysimantes;
Speak to any Gentleman that's next, to fetch him.

Flav.
I suspect somewhat, but I'le watch you close;
Exit Asteria from above.
Prince Lysimantes has not chose in me,
The worst Spy of the Court.—Celadon! what makes he here!

Enter Celadon, Olinda, Sabina; they walk over the Stage together, he seeming to court them.
Olind.
Nay, sweet Celadon.—

Sab.
Nay, dear Celadon.—

Flav.

O-ho, I see his business now, 'tis with Melissa's two Daughters:
Look look, how he peeps about to see if the Coast be clear; like
an Hawk that will not plume if she be look'd on.—
So—at last he has truss'ed his quarry.—

Exeunt Cel. Ol. Sab.
Enter Florimell.
Flor.

Did you see Celadon this way?

Flav.

If you had not ask'd the question, I should have thought
you had come from watching him; he's just gone off with Melissa's
Daughters.

Flor.

Melissa's Daughters! he did not Court 'em I hope?

Flav.

So busily, he lost no time: while he was teaching the one
a tune, he was kissing the others hand.

Flor.

O fine Gentleman!

Flav.

And they so greedy of him! Did you never see two Fishes
about a Bait, tugging it this way, and t'other way; for my part, I
look'd at least he should have lost a Leg or Arm i'th service.—
Nay never vex your self, but e en resolve to break with him.

Flor.

No no, 'tis not come to that, yet; I'le correct him first, and
then hope the best from time.

Flav.

From time! Believe me, there's little good to be expected
from him I never knew the old Gentleman with the Scythe and Hourglass

bring any thing but gray hair, thin cheeks, and loss of teeth:
you see Celadon loves others.

Flor.

There's the more hope he may love me among the rest:
hang't, I would not marry one of these solemn Fops; they are good
for nothing but to make Cuckolds: Give me a servant that is an
high Flier at all games, that is bounteous of himself to many women;
and yet whenever I pleas'd to throw out the lure of Matrimony,
should come down with a swing, and fly the better at his own
quarry.

Flav.

But are you sure you can take him down when you think
good?

Flor.

Nothing more certain.

Flav.

What wager will you venture upon the Trial?

Flor.

Any thing.

Flav.

My Maydenhead to yours.

Flor.

That's a good one, who shall take the forfeit?

Flav.

Ile go and write a Letter as from these two Sisters, to summon
him immediately; it shall be deliver'd before you. I warrant
you see a strange combat betwixt the Flesh and the Spirit: if he
leaves you to go to them, you'l grant he loves them better?

Flor.

Not a jot the more: a Bee may pick of many Flowers, and
yet like some one better then all the rest.

Flav.

But then your Bee must not leave his sting behind him.

Flor.

Well; make the experiment however: I hear him coming,
and a whole noise of Fiddles at his heels. Hey-day, what a mad
Husband shall I have?—

Enter Celadon.
Flav.

And what a mad wife will he have? Well I must goe a
little way, but I'le return immediately and write it: You'l keep him
in discourse the while?

[Exit Flav.

Cel.

Where are you, Madam? what do you mean to run away
thus? pray stand to't, that we may dispatch this business.

Flor.

I think you mean to watch me as they do Witches, to make
me confess I love you. Lord, what a bustle have you kept this Afternoon?
what with eating, singing and dancing, I am so wearied,
that I shall not be in case to hear of any more love this fortnight.

Cel.

Nay, if you surfeit on't before Tryal, Lord have mercy upon
you when I have married you.

Flor.

But what Kings Revenue do you think will maintain this extravagant
expence?

Cel.

I have a damnable Father, a rich old Rogue, if he would once
die! Lord, how long does he mean to make it ere he dies!

Flor.

As long as ever he can, I'le pass my word for him.

Cel.

I think then we had best consider him as an obstinate old fellow
that is deaf to the news of a better world; and ne're stay for
him.

Flor.

But e'en marry; and get him Grand children in abundance,
and great Grand children upon them, and so inch him and shove him
out of the world by the very force of new Generations:—If that be
the way you must excuse me.

Cel.

But dost thou know what it is to be an old Maid?

Flor.

No nor hope I sha'n't these twenty years.

Cel.

But when that time comes, in the first place thou wilt be condemned
to tell Stories, how many men thou mightest have had; and
none believe thee: Then thou growest froward, and impudently weariest
all thy Friends to sollicite Man for thee.

Flor.

Away with your old Common-place wit: I am resolved to
grow fat and look young till forty, and then slip out of the world with
the first wrinckle, and the reputation of five and twenty.

Cel.

Well, what think you now of a reckoning betwixt us?

Flor.

How do you mean?

Cel.

To discount for so many dayes of my years service, as I have
paid in since morning.

Flor.
With all my heart.

Cel.
Inprimis, For a Treat:
Item, For my Glass Coach:
Item, For sitting bare, and wagging your Fann:

And lastly, and principally, for my Fidelity to you this long hour
and half.

Flor.

For this I'bate you three Weeks of your Service; now hear
your Bill of Faults; for your comfort 'tis a short one.

Cel.

I know it.

Flor.

Inprimis, Item, and Sum totall, for keeping company with
Melissa's Daughters.

Cel.

How the Pox came you to know of that: 'Gad I believe
the Devil plays booty against himself, and tels you of my sins.

[aside
Flor.

The offence being so small the punishment shall be but proportionable,
I will set you back onely half a year.

Cel.

You're most unconscionable: why then do you think we
shall come together? there's none but the old Patriarchs could
live long enough to marry you at this rate. What do you take
me for some Cousin of Methusalem's, that I must stay an hundred
years before I come to beget Sons and Daughters?

Flor.

Heres an impudent Lover, he complains of me without ever
off ring to excuse himself; Item, a fortnight more for that.

Cel.

So ther's another puff in my voyage has blown me back to
the North of Scotland.

Flo.

All this is nothing to your excuse for the two Sisters.

Cel.

'Faith if ever I did more then kiss 'em, and that but once—

Flor.

What could you have done more to me?

Cel.

An hundred times more; as thou shalt know, dear Rogue, at
time convenient.

Flo.

You talk, you talk; Could you kiss 'em, though but once,
and ne're think of me?

Cel.

Nay if I had thought of thee, I had kiss'd 'em over a thousand
times, with the very force of imagination.

Flor.

The Gallants are mightily beholding to you, you have
found 'em out a new way to kiss their Mistresses, upon other womens
lips.

Cel.

What would you have? You are my Sultana Queen, the rest
are but in the nature of your Slaves; I may make some slight excursion
into the Enemies Country for forage or so, but I ever return to
my head quarters.

Enter one with a Letter.
Cel.

To me?

Mess.

If your name be Celadon.

[Celad. reads softly.
Flor.

He's swallowing the Pill; presently we shall see the operation.

[Cel. to the Page.]

Child, come hither Child; here's money for
thee: So, be gone quickly good Child, before any body examines
thee: Thou art in a dangerous place, Child.—
[Thrusts him out.
Very good, the Sisters send me word they will have the Fiddles this
Afternoon, and invite me to sup there!—Now cannot I forbear
and I should be damn'd, though I have scap'd a scouring so lately for

it. Yet I love Florimel better then both of 'em together;—there's the
Riddle o'nt: but onely for the sweet sake of variety.—
[Aside.
Well, we must all sin, and we must all repent, and there's an end
on't.

Flor.

What is it that makes you fidg up and down so?

Cel.

'Faith I am sent for by a very dear friend, and 'tis upon a business
of life and death.

Flor.

On my life some woman?

Cel.

On my honour some man; Do you think I would lye to you?

Flor.

But you engag'd to sup with me!

Cel.

But I consider it may be scandalous to stay late in your
Lodgings.
Adieu dear Miss if ever I am false to thee again.

[Exit Cel.

Flor.

See what constant metal you men are made of! He begins to
vex me in good earnest. Hang him, let him go and take enough of
'em: and yet methinks I can't endure he should neither. Lord, that
such a Mad-Cap as I should ever live to be jealous!
I must after him.

Some Ladies would discard him now, but I
A fitter way for my revenge will find,
Ile marry him, and serve him in his kind.
[Exit Florimel.