 | Valentinian |  |
ACT. II.
SCEN. 1.
Enter Balbus, Proculus, Chylax; Lycinius.Bal.
I never saw the like she's no more stirr'd,
No more another Woman, no more alter'd
With any Hopes or Promises laid to her,
Let them be ne'r so weighty, ne'r so winning,
Than I am with the motion of my own Legs.
Proc.
Chylax!
You are a stranger yet in these Designs,
At least in Rome, tell me, and tell me truth
Did you e'er know in all your course of Practice
In all the ways of Women you have run through
For I presume you have been brought up, Chylax,
As we, to fetch and carry.
Chyl.
True—I have so.
Proc.
Did you, I say again in all this Progress
Ever discover such a piece of Beauty
15
One that must know her worth too and affect it,
I, and be flatter'd, else 'tis none: and honest
Honest against the Tide of all Temptations?
Honest to one Man, and to her Husband only,
And yet not Eighteen, not of Age to know
Why she is honest?
Chyl.
I confess it freely
I never saw her Fellow, nor ever shall:
For all our Græcian Dames as I have try'd
And sure I have try'd a hundred—if I say Two
I speak within my Compass: All these Beauties
And all the Constancy of all these Faces
Maids, Widdows, Wives, of what Degree or Calling
So they be Greeks and fat: for there's my Cunning
I would vndertake, and not sweat for't: Proculus,
Were they to try again, say twice as many
Under a Thousand pound to lay them flat:
But this Wench staggers me.
Lycin.
Do you see these Jewels?
You would think these pretty Baits now; I'l assure you
Here's half the Wealth of Asia.
Bal.
These are nothing
To the full Honours I propounded to her.
I bid her think and be, and presently
Whatever her Ambition, what the Council
Of others would add to her, What her Dreams
Could more enlarge, What any President
Of any Woman rising up to Glory;
And standing certain there, and in the highest
Could give her more, Nay to be Empress—
Proc.
And cold at all these Offers?
Bal.
Cold as Crystal,
Never to be thaw'd.
Chy.
I try'd her further:
And so far that I think she is no Woman.
At least as Women go now.
Lycin.
Why what did you?
16
I offered that, that had she been but Mistress
Of as much spleen as Doves have, I had reach'd Her
A safe Revenge of all that ever hate her,
The crying down for ever of all Beauties
That may be thought come near her.
Proc.
That was pretty.
Chy.
I never knew that way fail; yet I tell you,
I offer'd her a Gift beyond all yours
That, that had made a Saint start well consider'd;
The Law to be her Creature; she to make it,
Her Mouth to give it; Every thing alive
From her Aspect to draw their Good or Evil
Fixt in 'em spight of Fortune, a new Nature
She should be call'd, and Mother of all Ages;
Time should be hers, what she did, flatt'ring Virtues
Should bless to all Posterities, Her Air
Should give us Life, Her Earth and Water feed us,
And last to none but to the Emp'ror.
(And then but when she pleas'd to have it so:)
She shold be held a Mortal.
Lycin.
And she heard you?
Chy.
Yes, as a sick man hears a Noise, or he
That stands condemn'd, his Judgment.
Well, if there can be Virtue, if that Name
Be any thing but Name, and empty Title,
If it be so as Fools are us'd to feign it,
A Power that can preserve us after Death,
And make the Names of Men out-reckon Ages,
This Woman has a God of Virtue in her.
Bal.
I would the Emperor were that God.
Chy.
She has in her
All the Contempt of Glory, and vain seeming
Of all the Stoicks, All the Truth of Christians,
And all their Constancy; Modesty was made
When she was first intended; When she blushes
It is the holiest thing to look upon;
The purest Temple of her Sex, that ever
Made Nature a blest Founder,
If she were any way inclining
17
Proud to be seen or worshipp'd, 'twere a Venture:
But on my Soul she is chaster than cold Camphire.
Bal.
I think so too: For all the ways of Woman
Like a full sail she bears against: I askt her
After my many Offers, walking with her,
And her many down Denials, How
If the Emperor grown mad with Love should force her?
She pointed to a Lucrece that hung by,
And with an angry Look—that from her Eyes
Shot Vestal Fire against me; she departed.
Pro.
This is the first Woman I was ever pos'd in,
Yet I have brought young loving things together
This two and thirty Year.
Chyl.
I find by this fair Lady
The Calling of a Bawd to be a strange
A wise and subtle Calling: And for none
But staid, discreet and understanding People:
And as the Tutor to great Alexander
VVould say, A young man should not dare to read
His Moral Books till after five and twenty,
So must that He or She that will be Bawdy,
(I mean discreetly Bawdy, and be trusted)
If they will rise and gain Experience
VVell steept in Years and Discipline, begin it—
I take it 'tis no Boys Play.
Bal.
VVhat's to be thought of?
Proc.
The Emperor must know it.
Lycin.
If the VVomen should chance to fail too—
Chy.
As 'tis ten to one.
Proc.
VVhy what remains but new Nets for the purpose—
Th'Emperor.—
Enter Valentinian.
Emp.
VVhat have you brought Her?
Chy.
Brought her, Sir! Alas,
VVhat would you do with such a Cake of Ice
VVhom all the Love i'th' Empire cannot thaw.
18
Deaf to all Promises, dead to Desire,
A tedious stickler for her Husband's Rights,
VVho like a Beggars Curr hath brought her up
To fawn on him, and bark at all besides.
Emp.
Lewd and ill-manner'd Fool, wer't not for fear
To do thee good by mending of thy Manners
I'd have thee whipt! Is this th'account you bring
To ease the Torments of my restless mind.
Balb.
Kneeling.
Cæsar! In vain your Vassals have endeavour'd,
By Promises, Perswasions, Reasons, VVealth,
All that can make the firmest Virtue bend
To alter Her. Our Arguments like Darts
Shot in the Bosom of the boundless Air
Are lost and do not leave the least Impression:
Forgive us, if we fail'd to overcome
Vertue that could resist the Emperor.
Emp.
You impotent Provokers of my Lust,
VVho can incite and have no power to help,
How dare you be alive and I unsatisfied,
VVho to your Beings have no other Title
Nor least Hopes to preserve 'em, but my Smiles;
VVho play like poysonous Insects all the Day
In the warm Shine of Me your Vital Sun;
And when Night comes must perish—
VVretches! whose vicious Lives when I withdraw
The Absolute Protection of my Favour
VVill drag you into all the Miseries
That your own Terrors, Universal Hate,
And Law, with Jayls and VVhips can bring upon you,
As you have fail'd to satisfie my VVishes,
Perdition is the least you can expect
VVho durst to undertake and not perform!
Slaves! was it fit I should be disappointed?
Yet live—
Continue infamous a little longer;
You have deserv'd to end. But for this once
I'l not tread out your nasty snuffs of Life;
But had your poysonous Flatteries prevail'd
19
A Virtue that adds Fury to my Flames!
Dogs had devour'd e're this your Carcasses;
Is that an Object fit for my Desires
VVhich lies within the reach of your persuasions!
Had you by your infectious Industry
Shew'd my Lucina frail to that degree,
You had been damn'd for undeceiving me,
But to possess her chaste and uncorrupted,
There lies the Joy and Glory of my Love!
A Passion too refin'd for your dull Souls,
And such a Blessing as I scorn to owe
The gaining of to any but my self:
Haste strait to Maximus, and let him know
He must come instantly and speak with me;
The rest of you wait here—I'le play to night.
You, sawcy Fool! send privately away
[To Chylax.
For Lycias hither by the Garden Gate,
That sweet-fac'd Eunuch that sung
In Maximus's Grove the other day,
And in my Closet keep him till I come.
[Exit Valent.
Chyl.
I shall, Sir.
'Tis a soft Rogue, this Lycias
And rightly understood,
Hee's worth a thousand Womens Nicenesses!
The Love of VVomen moves even with their Lust,
VVho therefore still are fond, but seldom just:
Their Love is Usury, while they pretend,
To gain the Pleasure double which they lend.
But a dear Boy's disinterested Flame
Gives Pleasure, and for meer Love gathers pain;
“In him alone Fondness sincere does prove,
And the kind tender Naked Boy is Love.
[Exit.
20
SCENE 2.
A GARDEN.Enter Lucina, Ardelia and Phorba.
Ard.
You still insist upon that Idol Honour,
Can it renew your Youth? Can it add VVealth?
Or take-off wrinkles? Can it draw mens Eyes
To gaze upon you in your Age? Can Honour
That truly is a Saint to none but Souldiers,
And lookt into, bears no Reward but Danger,
Leave you the most respected VVoman living?
Or can the common Kisses of a Husband
(VVhich to a Sprightly Lady is a Labour)
Make you almost immortal? You are cozen'd,
The Honour of a VVoman is her Praises,
The way to get these, to be seen and sought to,
And not to bury such a happy Sweetness
Under a smoaking Roof.
Lucina.
I'l hear no more.
Phorb.
That VVhite and Red, and all that blooming Beauty,
Kept from the Eyes that make it so is nothing:
Then you are truly fair when men proclaim it:
The Phœnix that was never seen is doubted,
But when the Virtue's known, the Honour's doubled:
Virtue is either lame or not at all,
And Love a Sacriledge and not a Saint,
VVhen it barrs up the way to mens Petitions.
Ard.
Nay you shall love your Husband too; VVe
Come not to make a Monster of you.
Lucin.
Are you VVomen?
Ard.
You'l find us so; and women you shall thank too
If you have but Grace to make your Use.
Lucin.
Fie on you.
Phor.
Alas, poor bashful Lady! By my Soul
Had you no other Virtue, but your Blushes,
And I a man, I should run mad for those!
How prettily they set her off! how sweetly!
21
Come, Goddess, come! you move too near the Earth,
It must not be, a better Orb stays for you.
Lucin.
Pray leave me.
Phorb.
That were a Sin, sweet Madam, and a way
To make us guilty of your Melancholy,
You must not be alone; In Conversation
Doubts are resolv'd, and what sticks near the Conscience
Made easie and allowable.
Lucin.
Ye are Devils.
Ard.
That you may one day bless for your Damnation.
Lucin.
I charge you in the Name of Chastity
Tempt me no more: how ugly you seem to me!
There's no wonder Men defame our Sex,
And lay the Vices of all Ages on us,
When such as you shall bear the Name of Women!
If you had Eyes to see your selves, or sence,
Above the base Rewards yee earn with shame!
If ever in your Lives yee heard of Goodness
Tho' many Regions off,—as men hear Thunder;
If ever you had Fathers, and they Souls,
Or ever Mothers, and not such as you are!
If ever any thing were constant in you
Besides your Sins!
If any of your Ancestors
Dy'd worth a Noble Deed—that would be cherish'd,
Soul-frighted with this black Infection,
You would run from one anothers Repentance,
And from your Guilty Eyes drop out those Sins
That made ye blind and Beasts.
Phorb.
You speak well, Madam!
A sign of fruitful Education
If your religious Zeal had Wisdom with it.
Ard.
This Lady was ordain'd to bless the Empire,
And we may all give thanks for Her.
Phorb.
I believe you.
Ard.
If any thing redeem the Emperor
From his wild flying Courses this is she!
She can instruct him—if you mark—she's wise too.
Phor.
Exceeding wise, which is a wonder in her;
22
Tho' she wou'd sin she cannot.
Ard.
And besides
She has the Empire's Cause in hand, not Love's,
There lies the main consideration
For which she is chiefly born.
Phorb.
She finds that Point
Stronger than we can tell her, and believe it
I look by her means for a Reformation,
And such a one, and such a rare way carry'd.
Ard.
I never thought the Emperor had wisdom,
Pity, or fair Affection to his Country,
Till he profest this Love. Gods give 'em Children
Such as her Virtues merit and his Zeal;
I look to see a Numa from this Lady,
Or greater than Octavius.
Phor.
Do you mark too
Which is a noble Virtue—how she blushes,
And what flowing Modesty runs through her
When we but name the Emperor.
Ard.
Mark it!
Yes, and admire it too: for she considers
Tho' she be fair as Heav'n, and Virtuous
As holy Truth; Yet to the Emperor
She is a kind of Nothing—but her Service;
Which she is bound to offer, and she'l do it;
And when her Countries Cause commands Affection,
She knows Obedience is the Key of Virtues;
Then fly the Blushes out like Cupid's Arrows,
And though the Tie of Marriage to her Lord,
Would fain cry, stay Lucina—yet the Cause
And general Wisdom of the Prince's Love
Makes her find surer Ends and happier,
And if the first were chaste these are twice doubled.
Phor.
Her Tartness to us too.
Ard.
That's a wise one.
Phor.
I like it, it shews a rising Wisdom,
That chides all common Fools who dare enquire
What Princes would have private.
23
What a Lady shall we be blest to serve?
Lucin.
Go—get you from me,
Yee are your Purses Agents not the Princes,
Is this the virtuous Love you train'd me out to?
Am I a Woman fit to Imp your Vices?
But that I had a Mother and a Woman
Whose ever living Fame turns all it touches
Into the Good, it self was, I should now
Even doubt my self; I have been searcht so near
The very Soul of Honour. Why shou'd you Two
That happily have been as chaste as I am!
Fairer I think by much (For yet your Faces
Like Ancient well-built Piles shew worthy Ruines)
After that Angel Age, turn mortal Devils!
For Shame, for Womanhood, for what you have been
(For rotten Cedars have born goodly Branches)
If you have hope of any Heav'n but Court
Which like a Dream you'l find hereafter vanish:
Or at the best but subject to Repentance!
Study no more to be ill spoken of
Let Women live themselves; if they must fail;
Their own Destruction find 'em.
Ard.
You are so excellent in all
That I must tell it you with Admiration!
So true a joy you have, so sweet a fear!
And when you come to Anger—'Tis so noble
That for my own part I could still offend
To hear you angry: Women that want that
And your way guided (else I count it nothing)
Are either Fools or Fearful.
Phorb.
She were no Mistress for the World's great Lord
Could she not frown a ravisht Kiss from Anger,
And such an Anger as this Lady shews us
Stuck with such pleasing Dangers (Gods I ask yee)
Which of you all could hold from?
Lucin.
I perceive you,
Your own dark Sins dwell with you and that price
You sell the Chastity of modest Wives at,
Run to Diseases with you—I despise you,
24
Like Spiders webs I sweep away before me!
Go! tell! th'Emperor, You have met a Woman,
That neither his own Person, which is God-like,
The VVorld he rules, nor what that VVorld can purchase,
Nor all the Glories subject to a Cæsar!
The Honours that he offers for my Honour,
The Hopes, the Gifts, and everlasting Flatteries,
Nor any thing that's His, and apt to tempt.
No! not to be the Mother of the Empire
And Queen of all the holy Fires he worships,
Can make a VVhore of.
Ard.
You mistake us, Madam.
Lucin.
Yet tell him this, h'as thus much weaken'd me
That I have heard his Slaves and you his Matrons.
Fit Nurses for his Sins! which Gods forgive me
But ever to be leaning to his Folly,
Or to be brought to love his Vice—Assure him
And from her Mouth, whose Life shall make it certain,
I never can; I have a Noble Husband
Pray tell him that too: Yet a Noble Name,
A Noble Family, and last a Conscience.
Thus much by way of Answer; for your selves
You have liv'd the shame of VVomen—die the better.
[Ex. Luc.
Phor.
VVhat's now to do?
Ard.
Even as she said, to die.
For there's no living here and VVomen thus,
I am sure for us two.
Phor.
Nothing stick upon her?—
Ard.
VVe have lost a Mass of Money. VVell Dame Virtue,
Yet you may halt if good Luck serve!
Phor.
VVorms take her,
Ard.
So Godly—
This is ill Breeding, Phorba.
Phor.
If the VVomen
Should have a longing now to see the Monster
And she convert 'em all!
Ard.
That may be, Phorba!
But if it be I'l have the Young men hang'd,
Come—let's go think—she must not scape us thus.
[Exeunt.
| Valentinian | |