University of Virginia Library

Scene the First.

A Grove neer the Camp.
Enter Pimante alone with Letters.
Pim.

Gone! well, I have never the ill luck, I thank my Stars, to meet
with any of these mighty men of Valour.—

—Vallentio, Noble Colonel!

Enter Vallentio.
Vall.

Pimante! Whe, what the Devil brought thee to the
Camp?

Pim.

Affairs, affairs—

Vall.

They must be wondrous pressing that made thee venture; but the Fighting's
past, and all the Noise over, every man of Fame gone to receive what's due
to his Merit; and the whole Camp looks now like a City in a great Plague, no
stirring—But prithee what's thy business here?

Pim.

Why, I brought Letters from the Queen to that same mighty man of Prowess
—what d'ye call him?

Vall.

The brave Clemanthis?

Pim.

The same—But Colonel, is he indeed so very terrible a thing as Fame
gives out?—but she was ever a notable Wag at History.

Vall.

How dare thy Coward-Thoughts venture upon any thing so terrible as the
remembrance of that Gallant man? Is not his Name like Thunder to thy Ears?
Does it not make thee shrink into thy self?

Pim.

Lord, Colonel, why so hot? 'tis the cursedst thing in the world to be thus
continually us'd to fighting; why how uncivil it renders a man? I speak by way
of Question.

Vall.

Oh! how soft and wanton I could grow in the Description I could make
of him.—

He merits all in Peace as well as War:
Compos'd of Charms would take all Womankind,
As those of's Valour overcome the Men.

Pim.

Well said I'faith, Colonel; but if he be so fine a man, Why did you not
keep him here amongst you to do Execution on the Scythians? for I think e're
long you'll give 'em Battle.

Vall.
The General—whose noble Life he sav'd,
Us'd all his interest with him, but in vain:
He neither cou'd oblige his stay i'th' Camp,
Nor get him to the Court: oh! were his quality
But like his Actions great, he were a man
To merit Cleomena,
Whose Worth and Beauty, as a thing Divine,
I reverence:
But I abhor the feeble Reign of Women;
It foretels the downfal of the noblest Trade—War:
Give me a man to lead me on to Dangers,
Such as Clemanthis is, or as Orsames might have been.

Pim.

Colonel, 'tis Treason but to name Orsames, much more to wish he were us
King.

Vall.
Not wish he were! by all those Gods I will,
Who did conspire 'gainst him in their Oracles.
Not wish him King! yes, and may live to see it.

Pim.

What should we do with such a King? The Gods foretel he shall be fierce
and bloudy; a Ravisher, a Tyrant o're his People; his Reign but short, and so unfit
for Reign.

Vall.

The Gods! I'le not trust them for a days Pay—let them but give one
a taste of his Reign, though but for an hour, and I'll be converted to them.

Pim.

Besides, he is very ill bred for a King; he knows nothing of a world, cannot
dress himself, not sing, nor dance, or plays on any Musick; ne'er saw a Woman,
nor knows how to make use of one if he had her. There's an old fusty Philosopher
that instructs him; but 'tis in nothing that shall ever make a fine Gentleman
of him: He teaches him a deal of Awe and Reverence to the Gods; and tells him
that his natual Reason's sin—But, Colonel, between you and I, he'll no more of
that Philosophie, but grows as sullen as if you had the breeding of him here i'th'
Camp.

Vall.

Thou tell'st me heavenly news; a King, a King again! oh for a mutinous
Rabble that would break the Prison-walls and set Orsames free, both from his Fetters
and his Ignorance.

Pim.

There is a discourse at Court, that the Queen designs to bring him out,
and try how he would behave himself: but I'm none of that Councel; she's like

to make a fine Court on't; we have enough in the Virago her Daughter, who, if it
were not for her Beauty, one would swear were no Woman, she's so given to noise
and fighting.

Vall.

I never saw her since she was a Child, and then she naturally hated Scythia.

Pim.

Nay, she's in that mind still: and the superstitious Queen, who thinks that
Crown belongs to Cleomena—

Vall.

Yes, that was the promise of the Oracle too.

Pim.

Breeds her more like a General than a Woman: Ah how she loves fine
Arms! a Bow, a Quiver; and though she be no natural Amazon, she's capable of
all their Martial Fopperies.

—But hark; what noise is that?

[Song within.
Vall.
'Tis what we do not use to hear.—Stand by.

Enter Urania, drest gay—Lyces a Shepherdess.
Ly.
Still as I sing you sigh.

Uran.
I cannot hear thy Voice, and the returns
The Ecchoes of these shady Groves repeat,
But I must find some softness at my Heart:
—Wou'd I had never known another Dwelling,
But this too happy one where thou wert born.

[Sighs.
Ly.

You sigh again: such things become none but unhappy Maids that are forsaken;
your beauty is too great to suffer that.

Ura.
No Beauty's proof against false perjur'd man.

Ly.
Is't possible you can have lost your Love?

Ura.
Yes, pretty Maid, canst tell me any tidings of him?

Ly.
I cannot tell; by what marks do you know him?

Ura.
Why by these:—A tempting Face and shape:
A Tongue bewitching, soft, and Breath as sweet
As is the welcome Breeze that does restore
Life to man half kill'd with heat before:
But has a Heart as false as Seas in Calms,
Smiles first to tempt, then ruines with its Storms.

Ly.
Oh fair Urania! there are many more
So like your Love, if such a one he be,
That you would take each Shepherd to be he:
'Tis grown the fashion now to be forsworn;
Oaths are like Garlands made of finest Flowers,
Wither assoon as finish'd;
They change their Loves as often as their Scrips,
And lay their Mistresses aside like Ribbons
Which they themselves have sullied.

Pim.
Gad I'll venture in—

Vall.
Fair Women, and so near the Camp!
What are ye, and from whence?

Pim.
Ha! 'tis no matter for that; ask no Questions, but fall to.

[Goes to Lyces.
Ura.
I'm not asham'd to tell thee one or t'other;
I am a Maid, and one of gentle birth,
A Scythian born, and Enemy to thee,
Not as thou art a Man, but Friend to Dacia.

Vall.

What sin have I committed, that so fair a creature should become my Enemy?
but since you are so, you must be my Prisoner, unless your Eyes prevent me,
and make me yours.

Pim.
How, take a woman Prisoner! I hope you're a finer Gentleman than so.

Vall.
But, Madam, do not fear; for I will use you
As well as such a man as I can do.

Ura.
Though thou be'st rough, thou hast a Noble look,
And I believe my treatment will be gentle.

Vall.
Fair Maid, this confidence is brave in thee;
And though I am not used to make returns
Unless in Thunder on my Enemies,
Yet name the way, and I will strive to serve you.

Ura.
Then Sir, I beg not you would set me free,
Nor yet retain me here a Prisoner;
But as thou'rt brave, conduct me to the Castle on the Lake,
Where young Amintas lies, the spoil of War.

Vall.
Amintas, Madam, is a gallant Youth,
And merits more from Fortune than his Chains;
But I could wish (since I have vow'd to serve you.)
You would command me something
Worthy your Beauty and that Resolution.

Ura.
There is no other way to do me service.

Vall.
Then most willingly I will obey you.

Ura.
But, Sir, I beg this Virgin may depart,
Being a Dacian, and a neighbouring Villager.

Vall.
All your Commands shall strictly be obey'd.

Pim.
Pox on her, she's coy, and let her go: Well Colonel
I doubt you'll be for the Queen by and by.

Ura.
Here—take this Jewel as a part of payment
For all thy goodness to an unknown Maid.
[To Lyces.
And if by chance I ever see thee more,
Believe me, Lyces, I will quit the score.

[Exit Lyces weeping.
[Exeunt.