University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Grove.
Enter Curtius and Pietro.
Cur.
I wonder the Prince stays so long;
I do not like these night-works;
Were I not confident of Cloris vertue,
—Which shall no more be tempted.
I hear some coming, and hope 'tis he—
Pietro, are the Horses ready?

Piet.
Yes my Lord.
[Exit. Pietro.

Enter Frederick.
Cur.
Sir, you are welcome from Cloris Arms.

Fred.
With much ado, I am got loose from those fair
Fetters; but not from those of her beauty;
By these she still inflames me,
In spight of all my humours of inconstancy;
So soft and young, so fair and innocent,
So full of Air, and yet of languishment;
So much of Nature in her heart and eyes,
So timerous and so kind without disguise:
Such untaught sweets in every part do move,
As 'gainst my reason does compel my love;
Such artless smiles look so unorder'd too,
Gains more then all the charms of Courts can do;
From head to foot a spotless Statue seems,
As Art, not Nature, had compos'd her limbs;
So white, and so unblemisht, oh Curtius!
I'me ravisht beyond sense when I but think on't;
How much more must my surprise be,
When I behold these wonders.

Cur.
And have you seen her, Sir, in all this beauty?
Oh Hell!

[Aside.
Fred.
Curtius, I will not hide my Soul from thee;
I have seen all the marvels of that Maid.

Car.
My Soul learn now the Art of being disguis'd:
[Aside.
—'Tis much my, Lord, that one
Bred in such simple innocence,
Should learn so soon so much of confidence:
Pray, Sir, what Arts and cunning do you use?

Fred.
Faith time and importunity refuse no body.

Curt.
Is that the way? had you no other aids?
Made you no promise to her, Sir, of Marriage?

Fred.
Oh, yes in abundance, that's your only bait,
And though they cannot hope we will perform it,
Yet it secures their Honour and my Pleasure.

Cur.
Then, Sir, you have enjoy'd her?

Fred.
Oh yes, and gather'd sweets
Would make an Anchoret neglect his vow,
And think he had mistook his way to future bliss,
Which only can be found in such embraces;
'Twas hard to gain, but, Curtius, when once Victor,
Oh how the joys of conquest did enslave me!

Cur.
But, Sir, methinks 'tis much that she should yield,
With only a bare promise that you'd marry her.

Fred.
Yes, there was something more—but—

Cur.
But, what Sir, you are not Married.

Fred.
Faith yes, I've made a Vow,
And that you know would go as far with any other man.

Cur.
But she it seems forgot you were the Prince?

Fred.
No, she urged that too,
And left no arguments unus'd
Might make me sensible of what I did;
But I was fixt, and overcame them all,
Repeating still my vows and passions for her,
Till in the presence of her Maid and Heaven
We solemnly contracted.

Cur.
But, Sir, by your permission was it well?

Fred.
What wouldst thou have him do
That's all on fire, and dies for an enjoyment?

Cur.
But having gain'd it, do you love her still?

Fred.
Yes, yet extremely,
And would be constant to the vows I've made,
Were I a man, as thou art of thy self;
But with the aids of Counsels I must chuse,
And what my Soul adores I must refuse.

Cur.
This passion, Sir, possession will destroy,
And you'l love less, the more you do enjoy.

Fred.
That's all my hope of cure; I'le ply that game,
And slacken by degrees th'unworthy flame.

Cur.
Methinks, my Lord, it had more generous been
To've check'd that flame when first it did begin.
E're you the slighted victory had won,
And a poor harmless Virgin quite undone;
And what is worse, you've made her love you too.

Fred.
Faith that's the greater mischief of the two;
I know to such nice Vertuous Souls as thine,
My juster inclination is a crime;
But I love pleasures which thou can'st not prize,
Beyond dull gazing on thy Mistress eyes,
The lovely object which enslaves my heart,
Must yet more certain Cures then smiles impart,
—And you on Laura have the same design.

Cur.
Yes, Sir, when justify'd by Laws Divine.

Fred.
Divine, a pleasant warrant for your sin,
Which being not made, we ne're had guilty been;
But now we speak of Laura,
Prethee when is't that I shall see that Beauty?

Cur.
Never I hope [Aside]
I know not, Sir,
Her Father still is Cruel, and denys me,
What she and I have long made sute in vain for;
But, Sir, your Interest might prevail with him,
When he shall know I'me one whom you esteem,
He will allow my flame, and my address,
He whom you favour cannot doubt success.

Fred.
This day I will begin to serve thee in it.

Cur.
Sir, 'twill be difficult to get access to her,
Her Father is an humerous old man,
And has his fits of Pride and kindness too.

Fred.
Well after dinner I will try my power,
And will not quit his Lodgings till I've won him.

Cur.
I humbly thank you Sir.

Fred.
Come let us hast, the day comes on apace.

Cur.
I'le wait upon you Sir;
Oh, Cloris, thou'rt undone, false Amorous Girle;
[Ex. Fred.
Was it for this I bred thee in obscurity,
Without permitting thee to know what Courts meant,
Lest their too powerful temptation
Might have betray'd thy Soul;
Not suffering thee to know thy Name or Parents,
Thinking an humble life
Might have secur'd thy Vertue:
And yet I should not hate thee for this sin,
Since thou art bred in so much innocence,
Thou couldst not dream of falsity in men:
Oh that it were permitted me to kill this Prince,
This false perfidious Prince;
And yet he knows not that he has abus'd me.
When did I know a man of so much Vertue,
That would refuse so sweet and soft a Maid;
—No he is just and good, only too much misled
By youth and flattery;
And one to whom my Soul is ty'd by friendship;
—Yet what's a Friend, a name above a Sister?
Is not her Honour mine?
And shall not I revenge the loss of it?
It is but common Justice.
But first I'le try all gentle means I may,
And let him know that Cloris is my Sister;
And if he then persevere in his crime,
I'le lay my interest and my duty by,
And punish him, or with my Honour dye.

[Exit.