 | Secret Love, or The Maiden-Queen |  |
ACT V.
SCENE The Court.Florimel
in Mans Habit.
'Twill be rare now if I can go through with it, to out-do this
mad Celadon in all his tricks, and get both his Mistresses from
him; then I shall revenge my self upon all three, and save my own
stake into the bargain; for I find I do love the Rogue in spight of
all his infidelities. Yonder they are, and this way they must come.—
if cloathes and a bon meen will take 'em, I shall do't.—Save you
Monsieur Florimell; Faith me thinks you are a very janty fellow,
poudré & ajusté as well as the best of 'em. I can manage the little
Comb,—set my Hat, shake my Garniture, toss about my empty
Noddle, walk with a courant slurr, and at every step peck down my
Head:—if I should be mistaken for some Courtier now, pray
where's the difference?—
Enter to her Celadon, Olinda, Sabina.
Olin.
Never mince the matter!
You have left your heart behind with Florimell; we know it.
Cel.
You know you wrong me; when I am with Florimell 'tis still
your Prisoner, it onely draws a longer chain after it.
Flor.
Is it e'en so! then farwell poor Florimell, thy Maidenhead
is condemned to die with thee—
[aside.
Cel.
But let's leave the discourse; 'tis all digression that does not
speak of your beauties.—
Flor.
Now for me in the name of impudence!—
[walks with them,
They are the greatest beauties I confess that ever I beheld.—
Cel.
How now, what's the meaning of this young fellow?
Flor.
And therefore I cannot wonder that this Gentleman who
has the honour to be known to you should admire you,—since I that
am a stranger—
Cel.
And a very impudent one, as I take it, Sir.—
Flor.
Am so extreamly surpriz'd, that I admire, love, am wounded,
and am dying all in a moment.
Cel.
I have seen him somewhere, but where I know not! prithee
my friend leave us, dost thou think we do not know our way in
Court?
Flor.
I pretend not to instruct you in your way; you see I do not
go before you! but you cannot possibly deny me the happiness to
wait upon these Ladies; me, who.—
Cel.
Thee, who shalt be beaten most unmercifully if thou dost follow
them!—
Flor.
You will not draw in Court I hope!—
Cel.
Pox on him, let's walk away faster, and be rid of him.—
Flor.
O take no care for me, Sir, you shall not lose me, I'le rather
mend my pace then not wait on you.
Olin.
I begin to like this fellow.—
Cel.
You make very bold here in my Seraglio, and I shall find a
time to tell you so, Sir.
Flor.
When you find a time to tell me on't, I shall find a time to
answer you: But pray what do you find in your self so extraordinary,
that you should serve these Ladies better then I; let me know what
'tis you value your self upon, and let them Judg betwixt us.
Cel.
I am somewhat more a man then you.
Flor.
That is, you are so much older then I: Do you like a man
ever the better for his age Ladies?
Well said, young Gentleman.
Cel.
Pish, thee! a young raw Creature, thou hast ne're been under
the Barbers hands yet.
Flor.
No, nor under the Surgeons neither as you have been.
Cel.
'Slife what wouldst thou be at, I am madder then thou art?
Flor.
The Devil you are; I'le Tope with you, I'le Sing with you,
I'le Dance with you,—I'le Swagger with you.—
Cel.
I'le fight with you.
Flor.
Out upon fighting; 'tis grown so common a fashion, that
a Modish man contemns it; A man of Garniture and Feather is above
the dispensation of the Sword.
Olin.
Uds my life, here's the Queens Musick just going to us; you
shall decide your quarrel by a Dance.
Sab.
Who stops the Fiddles?
Cel.
Base and Trebble, by your leaves we arrest you at these Ladies
suits.
Flor.
Come on Sirs, play me a Jigg,
You shall see how I'le baffle him.
Dance.
Flor.
Your judgment, Ladies.
Olin.
You sir, you sir: This is the rarest Gentleman: I could live
and die with him.—
Sab.
Lord how he Sweats! please you Sir to make use of my
Handkerchief:
Olin.
You and I are merry, and just of an humour Sir; therefore
we two should love one another.
Sab.
And you and I are just of an age Sir, and therefore me thinks
we should not hate one another.
Cel.
Then I perceive Ladies I am a Castaway, a Reprobate with
you: why faith this is hard luck now, that I should be no less then
one whole hour in getting your affections, and now must lose 'em in a
quarter of it.
Olin.
No matter, let him rail, does the loss afflict you Sir?
Cel.
No in faith does it not; for if you had not forsaken me, I
had you: so the Willows may flourish for any branches I shall rob
'em of.
However we have the advantage to have left you; not you
us.
Cel.
That's onely a certain nimbleness in Nature you women
have to be first unconstant: but if you had not made the more haste,
the wind was veering too upon my Weathercock: the best on't is
Florimell is worth both of you.
Flor.
'Tis like she'll accept of their leavings.
Cel.
She will accept on't, and she shall accept on't; I think I know
more then you of her mind Sir.
Enter Melissa.
Mel.
Daughters there's a poor collation within that waits for
you.
Flor.
Will you walk musty Sir?
Cel.
No merry Sir; I won'not; I have surfeited of that old womans
face already.
Flor.
Begin some frolick then; what will you do for her?
Cel.
Faith I am no dog to show tricks for her; I cannot come aloft
for an old Woman.
Flor.
Dare you kiss her!
Cel.
I was never dar'd by any man.—by your leave old Madam.—
[He plucks of her Ruff.
Mel.
Help, help, do you discover my nakedness?
Cel.
Peace Tiffany! no harm.
[He puts on the Ruff.—
Now Sir here's Florimels health to you.—
[kisses her.
Mel.
Away sir:—a sweet young man as you are to abuse the
gifts of Nature so.
Cel.
Good Mother do not commend me so; I am flesh and blood,
and you do not know what you may pluck upon that reverend person
of yours.—Come on, follow your leader.
[Gives Florimel the Ruff, she puts it on.
Flor.
Stand fair Mother.—
Cel.
What with your Hat on? lie thou there;—and thou too.—
Plucks off her Hat and Perruke, and discovers Florimell.
Omnes.
Florimell!
Flor.
My kind Mistresses how sorry I am I can do you no further
service! I think I had best resign you to Celadon to make amends for
me.
Lord what a misfortune it was Ladies, that the Gentleman
could not hold forth to you.
Olin.
We have lost Celadon too.
Mel.
Come away; this is past enduring.
[Exeunt Mel. Olin.
Sab.
Well, if ever I believe a man to be a man for the sake of a
Perruks and Feather again.—
[Exit.
Flor.
Come Celadon, shall we make accounts even? Lord what
a hanging look was there: indeed if you had been recreant to your
Mistress, or had forsworn your love, that sinners face had been but decent,
but for the vertuous, the innocent, the constant Celadon!
Cel.
This is not very heroick in you now to insult over a man in
his misfortunes; but take heed, you have robb'd me of my two Mistresses;
I shall grow desperately constant, and all the tempest of my
love will fall upon your head: I shall so pay you.
Flor.
Who you, pay me! you are a banckrupt, cast beyond all
possibility of recovery.
Cel.
If I am a banckrupt I'le be a very honest one; when I cannot
pay my debts, at least I'le give you up the possession of my body.
Flor.
No, I'le deal better with you; since you're unable to pay,
I'le give in your bond.
Enter Philocles with a Commanders Staff in his hand, Attended.
Phil.
Cousin I am sorry I must take you from your company about
an earnest business.
Flor.
There needs no excuse my Lord, we had dispatch'd our affairs,
and were just parting.—
[Going.
Cel.
Will you be going Sir; sweet Sir, damn'd Sir, I have but one
word more to say to you.
Flor.
As I a man of Honour, I'le wait on you some other time.—
Cel.
By these Breeches.—
Flor.
which if I marry you I am resolv'd
to wear; put that into our Bargain, and so adieu Sir.—
Phil.
Hark you Cousin—
(They whisper.)
You'll see it exactly executed; I rely upon you.
Cel.
I shall not fail, my Lord; may the conclusion of it prove happy
to you.
Philocles
solus.
Where e're I cast about my wond'ring eyes,
The royal furniture in every room,
The Guards, and the huge waving crowds of people,
All waiting for a sight of that fair Queen
Who makes a present of her love to me:
Now tell me, Stoique!—
If all these with a wish might be made thine,
Would'st thou not truck thy ragged vertue for 'em?
If Glory was a bait that Angels swallow'd
How then should souls ally'd to sence, resist it!
Enter Candiope.
Ah poor Candiope! I pity her,
But that is all.—
Cand.
O my dear Philocles! A thousand blessings wait on thee!
The hope of being thine, I think will put
Me past my meat and sleep with extasie,
So I shall keep the fasts of Seraphim's,
And wake for joy like Nightingals in May.
Phil.
Wake Philocles, wake from thy dream of glory,
'Tis all but shadow to Candiope:
Canst thou betray a love so innocent!—
[Aside.
Cand.
What makes you melancholick? I doubt
I have displeased you?
Phil.
No my love, I am not displeas'd with you,
But with my self, when I consider
How little I deserve you.
Cand.
Say not so my Philocles, a love so true as yours
That would have left a Court, and a Queens favour
To live in a poor Hermitage with me.—
Phil.
Ha! she has stung me to the quick!
As if she knew the falshood I intended:
But, I thank Heav'n, it has recal'd my vertue,—
[aside.
[To her]
O my dear, I love you, and you onely;
Go in I have some business for a while;
But I think minutes ages till we meet.
Cand.
I knew you had; but yet I could not choose
But come and look upon you.—
[Exit Candiope.
What barbarous man could wrong so sweet a vertue!
Enter the Queen in black with Asteria.
Madam, the States are straight to meet; but why
In these dark ornaments will you be seen?
Qu.
—They fit the fortune of a Captive Queen.
Phil.
—Deep shades are thus to heighten colours set;
So Stars in Night, and Diamonds shine in Jet.
Qu.
True friends should so, in dark afflictions shine,
But I have no great cause to boast of mine.
Phil.
You may have too much prejudice for some,
And think 'em false before their trial's come.
But, Madam, what determine you to do?
Qu.
I come not here to be advis'd by you:
But charge you by that pow'r which once you own'd,
And which is still my right ev'n when unthron'd;
That whatsoe're the States resolve of me,
You never more think of Candiope.
Phil.
Not think of her! ah, how should I obey!
Her tyrant eyes have forc'd my heart away.
Qu.
By force retake it from those tyrant eyes,
I'le grant you out my Letters of Reprize.
Phil.
She has, too well, prevented that design
By giving me her heart in change for mine.
Qu.
Thus foolish Indians Gold for Glass for go,
'Twas to your loss you priz'd your heart so low.
I set its value when you were advanc'd.
And as my favours grew, its rate inhanc'd.
Phil.
The rate of Subjects hearts by yours must go,
And love in yours has set the value low.
Qu.
I stand corrected, and my self reprove,
You teach me to repent my low-plac'd love:
Help me this passion from my heart to tear,
Now rail on him, and I will sit and hear.
Phil.
Madam, like you, I have repented too,
And dare not rail on one I do not know.
Qu.
This, Philocles, like strange perverseness shows,
As if what e're I said, you would oppose;
How come you thus concern'd, for this unknown?
I onely judg his actions by my own.
Qu.
I've heard too much, and you too much have said,
O Heav'ns, the secret of my soul's betray'd!
He knows my love, I read it in his face,
And blushes, conscious of his Queens disgrace.—
[aside.
[To him.]
Hence quickly, hence, or I shall die with shame.
Phil.
Now I love both, and both with equal flame.
Wretched I came, more wretched I retire,
When two winds blow it who can quench the fire!
Exit Philocles.
Qu.
O my Asteria, I know not whom t'accuse;
But either my own eyes or you, have told
My love to Philocles.
Ast.
Is't possible that he should know it, Madam!
Qu.
Me thinks you ask'd that question guiltily.
Her hand on Ast. shoulder.
Confess, for I will know, what was the subject of your long discourse
I'th Antichamber with him.
Ast.
It was my business to convince him, Madam,
How ill he did, being so much oblig'd,
To joyn in your imprisonment.
Qu.
Nay, now I am confirm'd my thought was true;
For you could give him no such reason
Of his obligements as my love.
Ast.
Because I saw him much a Malecontent,
I thought to win him to your int'rest, Madam,
By telling him it was no want of kindness
Made your refusal of Candiope.
And he perhaps—
(Qu.)
What of him now?
Ast.
As men are apt, interpreted my words
To all th'advantage he could wrest the sence,
As if I meant you Lov'd him.
Qu.
Have I deposited within thy breast
The dearest treasure of my life, my glory,
And hast thou thus betray'd me!
But why do I accuse thy female weakness,
And not my own for trusting thee!
Unhappy Queen, Philocles knows thy fondness,
Ast.
Dear Madam, think not so.
Qu.
Peace, peace, thou should'st for ever hold thy tongue.
For it has spoke too much for all thy life.—
[To her.
Then Philocles has told Candiope,
And courts her kindness with his scorn of me.
O whither am I fallen! But I must rouze my self, and give a stop
To all these ills by headlong passion caus'd;
In hearts resolv'd weak love is put to flight,
And onely conquers when we dare not fight.
But we indulge our harms, and while he gains
An entrance, please our selves into our pains.
Enter Lysimantes.
Ast.
Prince Lysimantes, Madam!—
Qu.
Come near you poor deluded criminal;
See how ambition cheats you:
You thought to find a Prisoner here,
But you behold a Queen.
Lys.
And may you long be so: 'tis true this Act
May cause some wonder in your Majesty.
Qu.
None, Cousin, none; I ever thought you
Ambitious, Proud, designing.
Lys.
Yet all my Pride, Designs, and my Ambition
Were taught me by a Master
With whom you are not unacquainted, Madam.
Qu.
Explain your self; dark purposes, like yours,
Need an Interpretation.
Lys.
'Tis love I mean.
(Qu.)
Have my low fortunes giv'n thee
This insolence, to name it to thy Queen?
Lys.
Yet you have heard love nam'd without offence.
As much below you as you think my passion,
I can look down on yours.—
Qu.
Does he know it too!
This is th'extreamest malice of my Stars!—
[aside.
Lys.
You see, that Princes faults,
(How e're they think 'em safe from publick view)
Fly out through the dark crannies of their Closets:
We know what the Sun does,
Qu.
My actions, Cousin, never fear'd the light.
Lys.
Produce him then, your darling of the dark,
For such an one you have.
(Qu.)
I know no such.
Lys.
You know, but will not own him.
Qu.
Rebels ne're want pretence to blacken Kings,
And this, it seems, is yours: do you produce him,
Or ne're hereafter sully my Renown
With this aspersion:—Sure he dares not name him.—
[aside.
Lys.
I am too tender of your fame; or else—
Nor are things brought to that extremity:
Provided you accept my passion,
I'le gladly yield to think I was deceiv'd.
Qu.
Keep in your error still; I will not buy
Your good opinion at so dear a rate,
As my own misery by being yours.
Lys.
Do not provoke my patience by such scornes,
For fear I break through all, and name him to you.
Qu.
Hope not to fright me with your mighty looks;
Know I dare stem that tempest in your brow,
And dash it back upon you.
Lys.
Spight of prudence it will out: 'Tis Philocles.
Now judge, when I was made a property
To cheat my self by making him your Prisoner,
Whether I had not right to take up armes?
Qu.
Poor envious wretch!
was this the venome that swell'd up thy brest?
My grace to Philocles mis-deem'd my love!
Lys.
'Tis true, the Gentleman is innocent;
He ne're sinn'd up so high, not in his wishes;
You know he loves elsewhere.
Qu.
You mean your Sister.
Lys.
I wish some Sybil now would tell me
Why you refus'd her to him?
Qu.
Perhaps I did not think him worthy of her.
Lys.
Did you not think him too worthy, Madam?
This is too thin a vail to hinder your passion,
To prove you love him not, yet give her him,
Qu.
He is arriv'd where I would wish—
aside.]
Call in the
company, and you shall see what I will do.—
Lys.
Who waits without there?—
[Exit Lys.
Qu.
Now hold, my heart, for this one act of honour,
And I will never ask more courage of thee:
Once more I have the means to reinstate my self into my glory;
I feel my love to Philocles within me
Shrink, and pull back my heart from this hard tryal,
But it must be when glory says it must.
As children wading from some Rivers bank
First try the water with their tender feet;
Then shuddring up with cold, step back again,
And streight a little further venture on,
Till at the last they plunge into the deep,
And pass, at once, what they were doubting long:
I'le make the same experiment; it shall be done in haste,
Because I'le put it past my pow'r t'undo.
Enter at one door Lysimantes, at the other Philocles, Celadon, Candiope, Florimell, Flavia, Olinda, Sabina; the three Deputies, and Soldiers.
Lys.
In Armes! is all well, Philocles?
Phil.
No, but it shall be.
Qu.
He comes, and with him
The fevour of my love returns to shake me.
I see love is not banish'd from my soul,
He is still there, but is chain'd up by glory.
Ast.
You've made a noble conquest, Madam.
Qu.
Come hither, Philocles: I am first to tell you
I and my Cousin are agreed, he has
Engag'd to lay down Armes.
Phil.
'Tis well for him he has; for all his party
By my command already are surpriz'd,
While I was talking with your Majesty.
Cel.
Yes 'faith I have done him that courtesie;
I brought his followers, under pretence of guarding it, to a straight
may be pelted to death by the small infantry o'the town.
Qu.
'Twas more then I expected, or could hope;
Yet still I thought your meaning honest.
Phil.
My fault was rashness, but 'twas full of zeal:
Nor had I e're been led to that attempt,
Had I not seen it would be done without me:
But by compliance I preserv'd the pow'r
Which I have since made use of for your service.
Qu.
And which I purpose so to recompence.—
Lys.
With her Crown she means; I knew 'twould come to't.
[aside.
Phil.
O Heav'ns, she'll own her love!
Then I must lose Candiope for ever,
And floating in a vast abyss of glory,
Seek and not, find my self!—
[aside.
Qu,
Take your Candiope; and be as happy
As love can make you both:—how pleas'd I am
That I can force my tongue,
To speak words so far distant from my heart!—
[aside.
Cand.
My happiness is more then I can utter!
Lys.
Methinks! I could do violence on my self for taking Armes.
Against a Queen so good, so bountiful:
Give me leave, Madam, in my extasie
Of joy, to give you thanks for Philocles.
You have preserv'd my friend, and now he owes not
His fortunes onely to your favour; but
What's more, his life, and more then that, his love.
I am convinc'd, she never lov'd him now;
Since by her free consent, all force remov'd
She gives him to my Sister.
Flavia was an Impostor and deceiv'd me.—
[aside.
Phil.
As for me, Madam, I can onely say
That I beg respit for my thanks; for on the sudden,
The benefit's so great it overwhelmes me.
Ast.
Mark but th'faintness of th'acknowledgment.
to the Qu. aside.
Qu.
to Ast.]
I have observ'd it with you, and am pleas'd
He seems not satisfi'd; for I still wish
Phil.
I see Asteria deluded me
With flattering hopes of the Queens love
Onely to draw me off from Lysimantes:—
But I will think no more on't.
I'm going to possess Candiope,
And I am ravish'd with the joy on't! ha!
Not ravish'd neither.
For what can be more charming then that Queen!
Behold how night sits lovely on her eye-brows,
While day breaks from her eyes! then, a Crown too:
Lost, lost, for ever lost, and now 'tis gone
'Tis beautifull.—
aside.
Ast.
How he eyes you still!—
to the Queen.
Phil.
Sure I had one of the fallen Angels Dreams;
All Heav'n within this hour was mine!—
aside.
Cand.
What is it that disturbs you Dear?
Phil.
Onely the greatness of my joy:
I've ta'ne too strong a Cordial, love,
And cannot yet digest it.
[Qu. Clapping her hand on Asteria]
'Tis done! but this pang more; and then a glorious birth.
The Tumults of this day, my loyal Subjects
Have setled in my heart a resolution,
Happy for you, and glorious too for me.
First for my Cousin, though attempting on my person,
He has incurr'd the danger of the Laws,
I will not punish him.
Lys.
You bind me ever to my loyalty.
Qu.
Then, that I may oblige you more to it.
I here declare you rightful successor,
And heir immediate to my Crown:
This, Gentlemen,—
[to the Deputies.
I hope will still my subjects discontents,
When they behold succession firmly setled.
[Deputies.]
Heav'n preserve your Majesty.
Qu.
As for my self I have resolv'd
Still to continue as I am, unmarried:
Which I should pay an Husband, I will place
Upon my people; and our mutual love
Shall make a blessing more then Conjugal.
And this the States shall ratifie.
Lys.
Heav'n bear me witness that I take no joy
In the succession of a Crown.
Which must descend to me so sad away.
Qu.
Cousin, no more; my resolution's past,
Which fate shall never alter.
Phil.
Then, I am once more happy:
For since none can possess her I am pleas'd
With my own choice, and will desire no more.
For multiplying wishes is a curse
That keep the mind still painfully awake:
Qu.
Celadon!
You care and loyalty have this day oblig'd me;
But how to be acknowledging I know not,
Unless you give the means.
Cel.
I was in hope your Majesty had forgot me; therefore if you
please, Madam, I onely beg a pardon for having taken up armes once
to day against you; for I have a foolish kind of Conscience, which I
wish many of your Subjects had, that will not let me ask a recompence
for my loyalty, when I know I have been a Rebel.
Qu.
Your modesty shall not serve the turn; Ask something.
Cel.
Then I beg, Madam, you will command Florimell never to
be friends with me.
Flor.
Ask again; I grant that without the Queen: But why are
you affraid on't?
Cel.
Because I am sure as soon as ever you are, you'l marry me.
Flor.
Do you fear it?
Cel.
No, 'twill come with a fear.
Flor.
If you do, I will not stick with you for an Oath.
Cel.
I require no Oath till we come to Church; and then after
the Priest, I hope; for I find it will be my destiny to marry thee.
Flor.
If ever I say word after the black Gentleman for thee Celadon—
Then I hope you'l give me leave to bestow a faithful heart
elsewhere.
Flor.
I but if you would have one you must bespeak it, for I am
sure you have none ready made.
Cel.
What say you, shall I marry Flavia?
Flor.
No, she'll be too cunning for you.
Cel.
What say you to Olinda then? she's tall, and fair, and bonny.
Flor.
And foolish, and apish, and fickle.
Cel.
But Sabina, there's pretty, and young, and loving, and innocent.
Flor.
And dwarfish, and childish, and fond, and flippant: if you
marry her Sister you will get May-poles, and if you marry her you
will get Fayries to dance about them.
Cel.
Nay then the case is clear, Florimell; if you take 'em all
from me, 'tis because you reserve me for your self.
Flor.
But this Marriage is such a Bugbear to me; much might be
if we could invent but any way to mak it easie.
Cel.
Some foolish people have made it uneasie, by drawing the
knot faster then they need; but we that are wiser will loosen it a
little.
Flor.
'Tis true indeed, there's some difference betwixt a Girdle and
an Halter.
Cel.
As for the first year according to the laudable custome of new
married people, we shall follow one another up into Chambers, and
down into Gardens, and think we shall never have enough of one another.—
So far 'tis pleasant enough I hope.
Flor.
But after that, when we begin to live like Husband and Wife,
and never come near one another—what then Sir?
Cel.
Why then our onely happiness must be to have one mind,
and one will, Florimell.
Flor.
One mind if thou wilt, but prithee let us have two wills;
for I find one will be little enough for me alone: But how if those wills
should meet and clash, Celadon?
Cel.
I warrant thee for that: Husbands and Wives keep their wills
far enough asunder for ever meeting: one thing let us be sure to agree
on, that is, never to be jealous.
Flor.
No; but e'en love one another as long as we can; and
confess the truth when we can love no longer.
When I have been at play, you shall never ask me what money
I have lost.
Flor.
When I have been abroad you shall never enquire who
treated me.
Cel.
Item, I will have the liberty to sleep all night, without your
interrupting my repose for any evil design whatsoever.
Flor.
Item, Then you shall bid me good night before you sleep
Cel.
Provided always, that whatever liberties we take with other
people, we continue very honest to one another.
Flor.
As far as will consist with a pleasant life.
Cel.
Lastly, Whereas the names of Husband and Wife hold forth
nothing, but clashing and cloying, and dulness and faintness in their
signification; they shall be abolish'd for ever betwixt us.
Flor.
And instead of those, we will be married by the more agreeable
names of Mistress and Gallant.
Cel.
None of my priviledges to be infring'd by thee Florimell,
under the penalty of a month of Fasting-nights.
Flor.
None of my priviledges to be infring'd by thee Celadon,
under the penalty of Cuckoldom.
Cel.
Well, if it be my fortune to be made a Cuckold, I had rather
thou shouldst make me one then any one in Sicily: and for my
comfort I shall have thee oftner then any of thy servants.
Flor.
Laye now, is not such a marriage as good as wenching, Celadon?
Cel.
This is very good, but not so good, Florimell.
Qu.
Now set me forward to th'Assembly.
You promise Cousin your consent?
Lys.
But most unwillingly.
Qu.
Philocles, I must beg your voice too.
Phil.
Most joyfully I give it.
Lys.
Madam, but one word more; since you are so resolv'd,
That you may see, bold as my passion was,
'Twas onely for your person, not your Crown;
I swear no second love
Shall violate the flame I had for you,
But in strict imitation of your Oath
I vow a single life.
to Asteria.]
Now, my Asteria, my joys are full,
The pow'rs above that see
The innocent love I bear to Philocles,
Have giv'n its due reward; for by this means
The right of Lysimantes will devolve
Upon Candiope; and I shall have
This great content, to think, when I am dead
My Crown may fall on Philocles his head.
Exeunt omnes.
| Secret Love, or The Maiden-Queen | |