Gal. You must my Wounds and my Misfortunes bear Before you can become my Counsellor. You cannot guess the Torments I endure: Not knowing the Disease you'll miss the Cure.

Am. Physicians, Madam, can the Patient heal Although the Malady they ne'er did feel; But your Disease is epidemical, Nor can I that evade that conquers all. I lov'd, and never did like pleasure know, Which Passion did with time less vigorous grow.

Gal. Why, hast thou lost it?

Am. It, and half a score.

Gal. Losing the first, sure thou couldst love no more.

Am. With more facility, than when the Dart Arm'd with resistless fire first seiz'd my Heart; 'Twas long then e'er the Boy could entrance get, And make his little Victory compleat; And now he'as got the knack on't, 'tis with ease He domineers, and enters when he please.

Gal. My Heart, Aminta, is not like to thine.

Am. Faith, Madam, try, you'll find it just like mine. The first I lov'd was Philocles, and then Made Protestations ne'er to love again, Yet after left him for a faithless crime; But then I languisht even to death for him; —But Love who suffer'd me to take no rest, New fire-balls threw, the old scarce dispossest; And by the greater flame the lesser light, Like Candles in the Sun extinguished quite, And left no power Alcander to resist, Who took, and keeps possession of my breast.

Gal. Art thou a Lover then, and look'st so gay, But thou hast ne'er a Father to obey. [Sighing.

Am. Why, if I had I would obey him too.

Gal. And live?

Am. And live.

Gal. 'Tis more than I can do.

Enter Erminia weeping.

—Thy Eyes, Erminia, do declare thy Heart [Gal. meets her, embraces her, and weeps. Has nothing but Despairs and Death t'impart, And I alas, no Comfort can apply, But I as well as you can weep and die.

Er. I'll not reproach my Fortune, since in you Grief does the noblest of your Sex subdue; When your great Soul a sorrow can admit, I ought to suffer from the sense of it; Your cause of grief too much like mine appears, Not to oblige my Eyes to double tears; And had my heart no sentiments at home, My part in yours had doubtless fill'd the room. But mine will no addition more receive, Fate has bestow'd the worst she had to give; Your mighty Soul can all its rage oppose, Whilst mine must perish by more feeble blows.

Gal. Indeed I dare not say my cause of grief Does yours exceed, since both are past relief. But if your Fates unequal do appear, Erminia, 'tis my heart that odds must bear.

Er. Madam, 'tis just I should to you resign, But here you challenge what is only mine: My Fate so cruel is, it will not give Leave to Philander (if I die) to live: Might I but suffer all, 'twere some content, But who can live and see this languishment? You, Madam, do alone your Sorrows bear, Which would be less, did but Alcippus share; As Lovers we agree, I'll not deny, But thou art lov'd again, so am not I.

Am. Madam, that grief the better is sustain'd, That's for a loss that never yet was gain'd; You only lose a man that does not know How great the honour is which you bestow; Who dares not hope you love, or if he did, Your Greatness would his just return forbid; His humble thoughts durst ne'er to you aspire, At most he would presume but to admire; Or if it chanc'd he durst more daring prove, You still must languish and conceal your Love.

Gal. This which you argue lessens not my Pain, My Grief's the same were I belov'd again. The King my Father would his promise keep, And thou must him enjoy for whom I weep.

Er. Ah, would I could that fatal gift deny; Without him you; and with him, I must die; My Soul your royal Brother does adore, And I, all Passion, but from him, abhor; But if I must th'unsuit Alcippus wed, I vow he ne'er shall come into my Bed.

Gal. That's bravely sworn, and now I love thee more Than e'er I was oblig'd to do before, —But yet, Erminia, guard thee from his Eyes, Where so much love, and so much Beauty lies; Those charms may conquer thee, which made me bow, And make thee love as well as break this Vow.

Er. Madam, it is unkind, though but to fear Ought but Philander can inhabit here. [Lays her hand on her heart.

Gal. Ah, that Alcippus did not you approve, We then might hope these mischiefs to remove; The King my Father might be won by Prayer, And my too powerful Brother's sad despair, To break his word, which kept will us undo: And he will lose his dear Philander too, Who dies and can no remedies receive: But vows that 'tis for you alone he'll live.

Er. Ah, Madam, do not tell me how he dies, I've seen too much already in his Eyes: They did the sorrows of his Soul betray, Which need not be confest another way: 'Twas there I found what my misfortune was, Too sadly written in his lovely face. But see, my Father comes: Madam, withdraw a while, And once again I'll try my interest with him.

[Exeunt.



SCENE III. A room in the house of Orgulius.

Enter Orgulius, Erminia weeping, and Isillia.

Er. Sir, does your fatal resolution hold?

Org. Away, away, you are a foolish Girl, And look with too much pride upon your Beauty; Which like a gaudy flower that springs too soon, Withers e'er fully blown. Your very Tears already have betray'd Its weak inconstant nature; Alcippus, should he look upon thee now, would swear thou wert not that fine thing he lov'd.

Er. Why should that blessing turn to my despair? Curse on his Faith that told him I was fair.

Org. 'Tis strange to me you shou'd despise this Fortune, I always thought you well inclin'd to love him, I would not else have thus dispos'd of you.

Er. I humbly thank you, Sir, though't be too late, And wish you yet would try to change my Fate; What to Alcippus you did Love believe, Was such a Friendship as might well deceive; 'Twas what kind Sisters do to Brothers pay; Alcippus I can love no other way. —Sir, lay the Interest of a Father by, And give me leave this Lover to deny.

Org. Erminia, thou art young, and canst not see The advantage of the Fortune offer'd thee.

Er. Alas, Sir, there is something yet behind. [Sighs.

Org. What is't, Erminia? freely speak thy mind.

Er. Ah, Sir, I dare not, you inrag'd will grow.

Org. Erminia, you have seldom found me so; If no mean Passion have thy Soul possest, Be what it will I can forgive the rest.

Er. No, Sir, it is no crime, or if it be, Let Prince Philander make the Peace for me; He 'twas that taught the Sin (if Love be such.)

Org. Erminia, peace, he taught you then too much.

Er. Nay, Sir, you promis'd me you wou'd not blame My early Love, if 'twere a noble Flame.

Org. Than this a more unhappy could not be; Destroy it, or expect to hear of me. [Offers to go out.

Er. Alas, I know 'twould anger you, when known. [She stays him.

Org. Erminia, you are wondrous daring grown. Where got you courage to admit his Love, Before the King or I did it approve?

Er. I borrow'd Courage from my Innocence, And my own Virtue, Sir, was my defence. Philander never spoke but from a Soul, That all dishonest Passions can controul; With Flames as chaste as Vestals that did burn, From whence I borrow'd mine, to make return.

Org. Your Love from Folly, not from Virtue grew; You never could believe he'd marry you.

Er. Upon my life no other thing he spoke, But those from dictates of his Honour took.

Org. Though by his fondness led he were content To marry thee, the King would ne'er consent. Cease then this fruitless Passion, and incline Your Will and Reason to agree with mine, Alcippus I dispos'd you to before, And now I am inclin'd to it much more. Some days I had design'd t'have given thee To have prepar'd for this solemnity; But now my second thoughts believe it fit, You should this night to my desires submit.

Er. This night! Ah, Sir, what is't you mean to do?

Org. Preserve my Credit, and thy Honour too.

Er. By such resolves you me to ruin bring.

Org. That's better than to disoblige my King.

Er. But if the King his liking do afford, Would you not with Alcippus break your word? Or would you not to serve your Prince's life, Permit your Daughter to become his Wife?

Org. His Wife, Erminia! if I did believe Thou could'st to such a thought a credit give, I would the interest of a Father quit, And you, Erminia, have no need of it: Without his aid you can a Husband chuse; Gaining the Prince you may a Father lose.

Er. Ah, Sir, these words are Poniards to my Heart; And half my Love to Duty does convert; Alas, Sir, I can be content to die, But cannot suffer this Severity: [Kneels. That care you had, dear Sir, continue still, I cannot live and disobey your will. [Rises.

Org. This duty has regain'd me, and you'll find A just return; I shall be always kind. —Go, reassume your Beauty, dry your Eyes; Remember 'tis a Father does advise. [Goes out.

Er. Ungrateful Duty, whose uncivil Pride By Reason is not to be satisfy'd; Who even Love's Almighty Power o'erthrows, Or does on it too rigorous Laws impose; Who bindest up our Virtue too too strait, And on our Honour lays too great a weight. Coward, whom nothing but thy power makes strong; Whom Age and Malice bred t'affright the young; Here thou dost tyrannize to that degree, That nothing but my Death will set me free.

[Ex. Erm. and Isil.



SCENE IV. Philander's Apartments.

Enter Philander and Alcander.

Phil. Urge it no more, your Reasons do displease me; I offer'd her a Crown with her Philander, And she was once pleas'd to accept of it. She lov'd me too, yes, and repaid my flame, As kindly as I sacrific'd to her: The first salute we gave were harmless Love, Our Souls then met, and so grew up together, Like sympathizing Twins. And must she now be ravish'd from my Arms? Will you, Erminia, suffer such a Rape? What though the King have said it shall be so, 'Tis not his pleasure can become thy Law, No, nor it shall not. And though he were my God as well as King, I would instruct thee how to disobey him; Thou shalt, Erminia, bravely say, I will not; He cannot force thee to't against thy will. —Oh Gods, shall duty to a King and Father Make thee commit a Murder on thy self, Thy sacred self, and me that do adore thee? No, my Erminia, quit this vain devoir, And follow Love that may preserve us all: —Presumptuous Villain, bold Ingratitude— Hadst thou no other way to pay my favours? By Heaven, 'twas bravely bold, was it not, Alcander?

Alcan. It was somewhat strange, Sir; But yet perhaps he knew not that you lov'd her.

Phil. Not know it! yes, as well as thou and I. The world was full on't, and could he be ignorant? Why was her Father call'd from banishment, And plac'd about the King, but for her sake? What made him General, but my Passion for her? What gave him twenty thousand Crowns a year, But that which made me captive to Erminia, Almighty Love, of which thou say'st he is ignorant? How has he order'd his audacious flame, That I cou'd ne'er perceive it all this while.

Alcan. Then 'twas a flame conceal'd from you alone, To the whole Court, besides, 'twas visible. He knew you would not suffer it to burn out; And therefore waited till his services Might give encouragement to's close design. If that could do't he nobly has endeavour'd it, But yet I think you need not yield her, Sir.

Phi. Alcippus, I confess, is brave enough, And by such ways I'll make him quit his claim; He shall to morrow to the Camp again, And then I'll own my Passion to the King; He loves me well, and I may hope his pity.

Till then be calm, my Heart, for if that fail, [Points to his Sword. This is the argument that will prevail.

[Exeunt.



ACT II.

THE REPRESENTATION OF THE WEDDING.

_The Curtain must be let down, and soft Musick must play: The Curtain being drawn up, discovers a scene of a Temple: The_ King _sitting on a Throne, bowing down to join the hands_ Alcippus _and_ Erminia, _who kneel on the steps of the Throne; the Officers of the Court and Clergy standing in order by, with_ Orgulius. _This within the Scene.

Without on the Stage_, Philander _with his Sword half drawn, held by_ Galatea, _who looks ever on_ Alcippus: Erminia _still fixing her Eyes on_ Philander; Pisaro _passionately gazing on_ Galatea: Aminta _on_ Fallatio, _and he on her_: Alcander, Isillia, Cleontius, _in other several postures, with the rest, all remaining without motion, whilst the Musick softly plays; this continues a while till the Curtain falls; and then the Musick plays aloud till the Act begins_.



SCENE I. The Palace.

Enter Philander and Galatea inrag'd.

Phi. 'Tis done, 'tis done, the fatal knot is ty'd, Erminia to Alcippus is a Bride; Methinks I see the Motions of her Eyes, And how her Virgin Breasts do fall and rise: Her bashful Blush, her timorous Desire, Adding new Flame to his too vigorous Fire; Whilst he the charming Beauty must embrace, And shall I live to suffer this Disgrace? Shall I stand tamely by, and he receive That Heaven of bliss, defenceless she can give? No, Sister, no, renounce that Brother's name, Suffers his Patience to surmount his Flame; I'll reach the Victor's heart, and make him see, That Prize he has obtain'd belongs to me.

Gal. Ah, dear Philander, do not threaten so, Whilst him you wound, you kill a Sister too.

Phi. Though all the Gods were rallied on his side, They should too feeble prove to guard his Pride. Justice and Honour on my Sword shall sit, And my Revenge shall guide the lucky hit.

Gal. Consider but the danger and the crime, And, Sir, remember that his life is mine.

Phi. Peace, Sister, do not urge it as a sin, Of which the Gods themselves have guilty been: The Gods, my Sister, do approve Revenge By Thunder, which th'Almighty Ports unhinge, Such is their Lightning when poor Mortals fear, And Princes are the Gods inhabit here; Revenge has charms that do as powerful prove As those of Beauty, and as sweet as Love, The force of Vengeance will not be withstood, Till it has bath'd and cool'd it self in Blood. Erminia, sweet Erminia, thou art lost, And he yet lives that does the conquest boast.

Gal. Brother, that Captive you can ne'er retrieve More by the Victor's death, than if he live, For she in Honour cannot him prefer, Who shall become her Husband's Murderer; By safer ways you may that blessing gain, When venturing thus through Blood and Death prove vain.

Phi. With hopes already that are vain as Air, You've kept me from Revenge, but not Despair. I had my self acquitted, as became Erminia's wrong'd Adorer, and my Flame; My Rival I had kill'd, and set her free, Had not my Justice been disarm'd by thee. —But for thy faithless Hope, I 'ad murder'd him, Even when the holy Priest was marrying them, And offer'd up the reeking Sacrifice To th'Gods he kneel'd to, when he took my price; By all their Purity I would have don't. But now I think I merit the Affront: He that his Vengeance idly does defer, His Safety more than his Success must fear: I, like that Coward, did prolong my Fate, But brave Revenge can never come too late.

Gal. Brother, if you can so inhuman prove To me your Sister, Reason, and to Love: I'll let you see that I have sentiments too, Can love and be reveng'd as well as you; That hour that shall a death to him impart, Shall send this Dagger to Erminia's heart. [Shews a Dagger.

Phi. Ah, Coward, how these words have made thee pale, And Fear above thy Courage does prevail: Ye Gods, why did you such a way invent?

Gal. None else was left thy madness to prevent.

Phi. Ah, cruel Sister, I am tame become, And will reverse my happy Rival's doom: Yes, he shall live to triumph o'er my Tomb. —But yet what thou hast said, I needs must blame, For if my resolutions prove the same, I now should kill thee, and my life renew; But were it brave or just to murder you? At worst, I should an unkind Sister kill, Thou wouldst the sacred blood of Friendship spill. I kill a Man that has undone my Fame, Ravish'd my Mistress, and contemn'd my Name, And, Sister, one who does not thee prefer: But thou no reason hast to injure her. Such charms of Innocence her Eyes do dress, As would confound the cruel'st Murderess: And thou art soft, and canst no Horror see, Such Actions, Sister, you must leave to me.

Gal. The highest Love no Reason will admit, And Passion is above my Friendship yet.

Phi. Then since I cannot hope to alter thee, Let me but beg that thou wouldst set me free; Free this poor Soul that such a coil does keep; 'Twill neither let me wake in Peace, nor sleep. Comfort I find a stranger to my heart, Nor canst thou ought of that but thus impart; Thou shouldst with joy a death to him procure, Who by it leaves Alcippus' life secure.

Gal. Dear Brother, you out-run your Patience still, We'll neither die our selves, nor others kill; Something I'll do that shall thy joys restore, And bring thee back that health thou had'st before; —We're now expected at the Banquet, where I'd have thy Eyes more Love than Anger wear: This night be cheerful, and on me depend, On me, that am thy Sister, and thy Friend: A little raise Alcippus' Jealousy And let the rest be carried on by me; Nor would it be amiss should you provide A Serenade to entertain the Bride: 'Twill give him Fears that may perhaps disprove The fond opinion of his happy Love.

Phi. Though Hope be faithless, yet I cannot chuse, Coming from thee, but credit the abuse.

Gal. Philander, do not your Hope's power distrust, 'Tis time enough to die, when that's unjust.

[Exeunt.



SCENE II. The Court Gallery.

Enter Aminta as passing over the Stage, is stayed by Olinda.

Oli. Why so hasty, Aminta?

Am. The time requires it, Olinda.

Oli. But I have an humble suit to you.

Am. You shall command me any thing.

Oli. Pray Heaven you keep your word.

Am. That sad tone of thine, Olinda, has almost Made me repent of my promise; but come, what is't?

Oli. My Brother, Madam.

Am. Now fie upon thee, is that all thy business? [Offers to go off.

Oli. Stay, Madam, he dies for you.

Am. He cannot do't for any Woman living; But well—it seems he speaks of Love to you; To me he does appear a very Statue.

Oli. He nought but sighs and calls upon your name, And vows you are the cruell'st Maid that breathes.

Am. Thou can'st not be in earnest sure.

Oli. I'll swear I am, and so is he.

Am. Nay, thou hast a hard task on't, to make Vows to all the Women he makes love to; Indeed I pity thee; ha, ha, ha.

Oli. You should not laugh at those you have undone.

Aminta sings.

Hang Love, for I will never pine For any Man alive; Nor shall this jolly Heart of mine The thoughts of it receive; I will not purchase Slavery At such a dangerous rate; But glory in my Liberty, And laugh at Love and Fate.

Oli. You'll kill him by this cruelty.

Am. What is't thou call'st so? For I have hitherto given no denials, Nor has he given me cause; I have seen him wildly gaze upon me often, And sometimes blush and smile, but seldom that; And now and then found fault with my replies, And wonder'd where the Devil lay that wit, Which he believ'd no Judge of it could find.

Oli. Faith, Madam, that's his way of making love.

Am. It will not take with me, I love a Man Can kneel, and swear, and cry, and look submiss, As if he meant indeed to die my Slave: Thy Brother looks—but too much like a Conqueror. [Sighs.

Oli. How, Aminta, can you sigh in earnest?

Am. Yes, Olinda, and you shall know its meaning; I love Alcander, and am not asham'd o'th' secret, But prithee do not tell him what I say. —Oh, he's a man made up of those Perfections, Which I have often lik'd in several men; And wish'd united to compleat some one, Whom I might have the glory to o'ercome. —His Mein and Person, but 'bove all his Humour, That surly Pride, though even to me addrest, Does strangely well become him.

Oli. May I believe this?

Am. Not if you mean to speak on't, But I shall soon enough betray my self.

Enter Falatius with a patch or two on his Face.

Falatius, welcome from the Wars; I'm glad to see y'ave scap'd the dangers of them.

Fal. Not so well scap'd neither, Madam, but I Have left still a few testimonies of their Severity to me. [Points to his face.

Oli. That's not so well, believe me.

Fal. Nor so ill, since they be such as render us No less acceptable to your fair Eyes, Madam! But had you seen me when I gain'd them, Ladies, In that heroick posture.

Am. What posture?

Fal. In that of fighting, Madam; You would have call'd to mind that antient story Of the stout Giants that wag'd War with Heaven; Just so I fought, and for as glorious prize, Your excellent Ladiship.

Am. For me, was it for me you ran this hazard then?

Fal. Madam, I hope you do not question that, Was it not all the faults you found with me, The reputation of my want of Courage, A thousand Furies are not like a Battle; And but for you, By Jove, I would not fight it o'er again For all the glory on't; and now do you doubt me? Madam, your heart is strangely fortified That can resist th'efforts I have made against it, And bring to boot such marks of valour too.

Enter to them Alcander, who seeing them would turn back, but Olinda stays him.

Oli. Brother, come back.

Fal. Advance, advance, what, Man, afraid of me?

Alcan. How can she hold discourse with that Fantastick. [Aside.

Fal. Come forward, and be complaisant. [Pulls him again.

Alcan. That's most proper for your Wit, Falatius.

Am. Why so angry?

Alcan. Away, thou art deceiv'd.

Am. You've lost your sleep, which puts you out of humour.

Alcan. He's damn'd will lose a moment on't for you.

Am. Who is't that has displeas'd you?

Alcan. You have, and took my whole repose away, And more than that, which you ne'er can restore; I can do nothing as I did before. When I would sleep, I cannot do't for you, My Eyes and Fancy do that form pursue; And when I sleep, you revel in my Dreams, And all my Life is nothing but extremes. When I would tell my love, I seem most rude, For that informs me how I am subdu'd. Gods, you're unjust to tyrannize o'er me, When thousands fitter for't than I go free. [Ex.

Fal. Why, what the Devil has possest Alcander?

Oli. How like you this, Aminta?

Am. Better and better, he's a wondrous man.

[Exeunt Am. and Oli.

Fal. 'Tis the most unjanty humour that ever I saw; Ay, ay, he is my Rival, No marvel an he look'd so big upon me; He is damnable valiant, and as jealous as He is valiant; how shall I behave my Self to him, and these too idle humours of his I cannot yet determine; the comfort is, He knows I am a Coward whatever face I set upon it. Well, I must either resolve never to provoke His Jealousy, or be able to rencounter his Other fury, his Valour; that were a good Resolve if I be not past all hope.

[Ex.



SCENE III.

Enter Alcippus and Erminia, as in a Bed-Chamber.

Alcip. But still methinks, Erminia, you are sad, A heaviness appears in those fair Eyes, As if your Soul were agitating something Contrary to the pleasure of this night.

Er. You ought in Justice, Sir, t'excuse me here, Prisoners when first committed are less gay, Than when they're us'd to Fetters every day, But yet in time they will more easy grow.

Alcip. You strangely bless me in but saying so.

Er. Alcippus, I've an humble suit to you.

Alcip. All that I have is so intirely thine, And such a Captive thou hast made my Will, Thou needst not be at the expence of wishing For what thou canst desire that I may grant; Why are thy Eyes declin'd?

Er. To satisfy a little modest scruple; I beg you would permit me, Sir—

Alcip. To lie alone to night, is it not so, Erminia?

Er. It is—

Alcip. That's too severe, yet I will grant it thee? But why, Erminia, must I grant it thee?

Er. The Princess, Sir, questions my Power, and says, I cannot gain so much upon your Goodness.

Alcip. I could have wish'd some other had oblig'd thee to't.

Er. You would not blame her if you knew her reason.

Alcip. Indeed I do not much, for I can guess She takes the party of the Prince her Brother; And this is only to delay those Joys, Which she perhaps believes belong to him. —But that, Erminia, you can best resolve; And 'tis not kindly done to hide a truth, The Prince so clearly own'd.

Er. What did he own?

Alcip. He said, Erminia, that you were his Wife; If so, no wonder you refuse my Bed: [She weeps. The Presence of the King hinder'd my knowledge, Of what I willingly would learn from you; —Come, ne'er deny a truth that plain appears; I see Hypocrisy through all your Tears.

Er. You need not ask me to repeat again, A Knowledge which, you say, appears so plain: The Prince his word methinks should credit get, Which I'll confirm whene'er you call for it: My heart before you ask't it, was his prize, And cannot twice become a Sacrifice.

Alcip. Erminia, is this brave or just in you, To pay his score of Love with what's my due? What's your design to treat me in this sort? Are sacred Vows of Marriage made your sport? Regard me well, Erminia, what am I?

Er. One, Sir, with whom, I'm bound to live and die, And one to whom, by rigorous command, I gave (without my Heart) my unwilling Hand.

Alcip. But why, Erminia, did you give it so?

Er. T'obey a King and cruel Father too. A Friendship, Sir, I can on you bestow, But that will hardly into Passion grow; And 'twill an Act below your Virtue prove, To force a Heart you know can never love.

Alcip. Am I the mask to hide your Blushes in, I the contented Fool to veil your Sin? Have you already learnt that trick at Court, Both how to practise and secure your sport? Brave Mistress of your Art, is this the way, My Service and my Passion to repay? Will nothing but a Prince your pleasure fit, And could you think that I would wink at it? Recal that Folly, or by all that's good, I'll free the Soul that wantons in thy Blood. [He in rage takes her by the arm, shews a dagger.

Er. I see your Love your Reason has betray'd, But I'll forgive the Faults which Love has made: 'Tis true, I love, and do confess it too; Which if a Crime, I might have hid from you; But such a Passion 'tis as does despise Whatever Rage you threaten from your Eyes. —Yes—you may disapprove this flame in me, But cannot hinder what the Gods decree; —Search here this truth; Alas, I cannot fear; Your Steel shall find a welcome entrance here.

[He holds her still and gazes on her.

Alcip. Where dost thou think thy ungrateful Soul will go, Loaded with wrongs to me, should I strike now?

Er. To some blest place, where Lovers do reside, Free from the noise of Jealousy and Pride; Where we shall know no other Power but Love, And where even thou wilt soft and gentle prove; So gentle, that if I should meet thee there, Thou would'st allow, what thou deny'st me here.

Alcip. Thou hast disarm'd my Rage, and in its room A world of Shame and softer Passions come, Such as the first efforts of Love inspir'd, When by thy charming Eyes my Soul was fir'd.

Er. I must confess your Fears are seeming just, But here to free you from the least mistrust, I swear, whilst I'm your Wife I'll not allow Birth to a Thought that tends to injuring you.

Alcip. Not to believe thee, were a sin above The Injuries I have done thee by my Love. —Ah, my Erminia, might I hope at last To share the pity of that lovely Breast, By slow degrees I might approach that Throne, Where now the blest Philander reigns alone: Perhaps in time my Passion might redeem That now too faithful Heart y'ave given to him; Do but forbear to hear his amorous Tales, Nor from his moving Eyes learn what he ails: A Fire that's kindled cannot long survive, If one add nought to keep the flame alive.

Er. I will not promise; what I mean to do My Virtue only shall oblige me to.

Alcip. But, Madam, what d'you mean by this reserve? To what intent does all this Coldness serve? Is there no pity to my Sufferings due? And will you still my Languishments renew? Come, come, recal what you have rashly said; And own to morrow that thou art no Maid: Thy Blushes do betray thy willingness, And in thy lovely Eyes I read success.

Er. A double tie obliges me to be Strict to my Vows, my Love and Amity; For my own sake the first I'll ne'er decline, And I would gladly keep the last for thine.

Alcip. Madam, you strangely do improve my pain, To give me hopes you must recal again.

Er. Alcippus, you this language will forbear, When you shall know how powerful you are; For whilst you here endeavour to subdue, The best of Women languishes for you.

Alcip. Erminia, do not mock my misery, For though you cannot love, yet pity me; That you allow my Passion no return, Is weight enough, you need not add your Scorn, In this your Cruelty is too severe.

Er. Alcippus, you mistake me every where.

Alcip. To whom, Erminia, do I owe this Fate?

Er. To morrow all her story I'll relate. Till then the promise I the Princess made, I beg you would permit might be obey'd.

Alcip. You, Madam, with so many charms assail, You need not question but you shall prevail; Thy power's not lessen'd in thy being mine, But much augmented in my being thine, The glory of my chains may raise me more, But I am still that Slave I was before.

[Exeunt severally.



SCENE IV. Philander's Bed-chamber.

Enter Philander and Alcander. [The Prince half undrest.

Phi. What's a Clock, Alcander?

Alcan. 'Tis midnight, Sir, will you not go to bed?

Phi. To bed, Friend; what to do?

Alcan. To sleep, Sir, as you were wont to do.

Phi. Sleep, and Erminia have abandon'd me; I'll never sleep again.

Alcan. This is an humour, Sir, you must forsake.

Phi. Never, never, oh Alcander. Dost know where my Erminia lies to night?

Alcan. I guess, Sir.

Phi. Where? Nay, prithee speak, Indeed I shall not be offended at it.

Alcan. I know not why you should, Sir; She's where she ought, abed with young Alcippus.

Phi. Thou speak'st thy real Thoughts.

Alcan. Why should your Highness doubt it?

Phi. By Heaven, there is no faith in Woman-kind; Alcander, dost thou know an honest Woman?

Alcan. Many, Sir.

Phi. I do not think it, 'tis impossible; Erminia, if it could have been, were she, But she has broke her Vows, which I held sacred, And plays the wanton in another's arms.

Alcan. Sir, do you think it just to wrong her so?

Phi. Oh, would thou couldst persuade me that I did so. Thou know'st the Oaths and Vows she made to me, Never to marry other than my self, And you, Alcander, wrought me to believe them. But now her Vows to marry none but me, Are given to Alcippus, and in his bosom breath'd, With balmy whispers, whilst the ravisht Youth For every syllable returns a kiss, And in the height of all his extasy, Philander's dispossess'd and quite forgotten. Ah, charming Maid, is this your Love to me? Yet now thou art no Maid, nor lov'st not me, And I the fool to let thee know my weakness.

Alcan. Why do you thus proceed to vex your self? To question what you list, and answer what you please? Sir, this is not the way to be at ease.

Phi. Ah, dear Alcander, what would'st have me do?

Alcan. Do that which may preserve you; Do that which every Man in love would do; Make it your business to possess the object.

Phi. What meanest thou, is she not married?—

Alcan. What then? she'as all about her that she had, Of Youth and Beauty she is Mistress still, And may dispose it how and where she will.

Phi. Pray Heaven I do not think too well of thee: What means all this discourse, art thou honest?

Alcan. As most Men of my Age.

Phi. And wouldst thou counsel me to such a Sin? For—I do understand—thee.

Alcan. I know not what you term so.

Phi. I never thought thou'dst been so great a Villain, To urge me to a crime would damn us all; Why dost thou smile, hast thou done well in this?

Alcan. I thought so, or I'ad kept it to my self. Sir, e'er you grow in rage at what I've said, Do you think I love you, or believe my life Were to be valued more than your repose? You seem to think it is not.

Phi. Possibly I may.

Alcan. The sin of what I have propos'd to you You only seem to hate: Sir, is it so? —If such religious thoughts about you dwell, Why is it that you thus perplex your self? Self-murder sure is much the greater sin. Erminia too you say has broke her Vows, She that will swear and lye, will do the rest. And of these evils, this I think the least; And as for me, I never thought it sin.

Phi. And canst thou have so poor a thought of her?

Alcan. I hope you'll find her, Sir, as willing to't As I am to suppose it; nay, believe't, She'll look upon't as want of Love and Courage Should you not now attempt it; You know, Sir, there's no other remedy, Take no denial, but the Game pursue, For what she will refuse, she wishes you.

Phi. With such pretensions—she may angry grow.

Alcan. I never heard of any that were so, For though the will to do't, and power they want, They love to hear of what they cannot grant.

Phi. No more, Is this your duty to your Prince, Alcander? You were not wont to counsel thus amiss, 'Tis either Disrespect or some Design; I could be wondrous angry with thee now, But that my Grief has such possession here, 'Twill make no room for Rage.

Alcan. I cannot, Sir, repent of what I've said, Since all the errors which I have committed Are what my passion to your interest led me to, But yet I beg your Highness would recal That sense which would persuade you 'tis unjust.

Phi. Name it no more, and I'll forgive it thee.

Alcan. I can obey you, Sir.

Phi. What shall we do to night, I cannot sleep.

Alcan. I'm good at watching, and doing any thing.

Phi. We'll serenade the Ladies and the Bride. —The first we may disturb, but she I fear Keeps watch with me to night, though not like me.

Enter a Page of the Prince's.

Phi. How now, Boy, Is the Musick ready which I spoke for?

Page. They wait your Highness's command.

Phi. Bid them prepare, I'm coming. [Ex. Page. Soft touches may allay the Discords here, And sweeten, though not lessen my Despair.

[Exeunt.



SCENE V. The Court Gallery.

Enter Pisaro alone.

Pis. Ha! who's that? a Lover, on my life, This amorous malady reigns every where; Nor can my Sister be an ignorant Of what I saw this night in Galatea: I'll question her—Sister, Aminta, Sister. [Calls as at her Lodgings.

Enter Lysette.

Lys. Who calls my Lady?

Pis. Where's my Sister?

Lys. I cry your Lordship's mercy; My Lady lies not in her Lodgings to night; The Princess sent for her, Her Highness is not well. [She goes in.

Pis. I do believe it, good night, Lysette.

Enter a Page.

—Who's there?

Page. Your Lordship's Page.

Pis. Where hast thou been? I wanted thee but now.

Page. I fell asleep i'th' Lobby, Sir, and had not waken'd Yet, but for the Musick which plays at the Lodgings Of my Lady Erminia.

Pis. Curse on them; will they not allow him nights to himself; 'tis hard. This night I'm wiser grown by observation, My Love and Friendship taught me jealousy, Which like a cunning Spy brought in intelligence From every eye less wary than its own; They told me that the charming Galatea, In whom all power remains, Is yet too feeble to encounter Love; I find she has receiv'd the wanton God, Maugre my fond opinion of her Soul. And 'tis my Friend too that's become my Rival. I saw her lovely Eyes still turn on him, As Flowers to th'Sun: and when he turn'd away Like those she bow'd her charming head again. —On th'other side the Prince with dying looks Each motion watch'd of fair Erminia's eyes, Which she return'd as greedily again, And if one glance t' Alcippus she directed, He'd stare as if he meant to cut his throat for't.

Well, Friend, thou hast a sure defence of me, My Love is yet below my Amity.

[Ex.



SCENE VI. Draws off, discovers Philander and Alcander with Musick at the Chamber-door of Erminia; to them Pisaro, who listens whilst the Song is sung.

The Song for the Page to sing at Erminia's Chamber-door.

Amintas that true-hearted Swain Upon a River's bank was laid, Where to the pitying streams he did complain Of Sylvia that false charming Maid, But she was still regardless of his pain: Oh faithless Sylvia! would he cry, And what he said the Echoes would reply. Be kind or else I die, E. I die. Be kind or else I die, E. I die.

A shower of tears his eyes let fall, Which in the River made impress, Then sigh'd, and Sylvia false again would call, A cruel faithless Shepherdess. Is Love with you become a criminal? Ah lay aside this needless scorn, Allow your poor Adorer some return, Consider how I burn, E. I burn. Consider, &c.

Those Smiles and Kisses which you give. Remember, Sylvia, are my due; And all the Joys my Rival does receive He ravishes from me, not you. Ah Sylvia, can I live and this believe? Insensibles are touched to see My languishments, and seem to pity me. Which I demand of thee, E. of thee, Which I demand, &c.

Pis. What's all this?

Phi. Who's there?

Pis. A Man, a Friend to the General.

Phi. Then thou'rt an Enemy to all good Men. Does the ungrateful Wretch hide his own head, And send his Spies abroad?

Pis. He is too great to fear, and needs them not: And him thou termest so, scorns the Office too.

Phi. What makest thou here then, when the whole World's asleep? Be gone, there lies thy way, where'er thy business be.

Pis. It lies as free for thee, and here's my business.

Phi. Thou lyest, rude man.

Pis. Why, what art thou darest tell me so i'th' dark? Day had betray'd thy blushes for this Boldness.

Phi. Tell me who 'tis that dares capitulate?

Pis. One that dares make it good.

Phi. Draw then, and keep thy word.

Alcan. Stand by, and let me do that duty, Sir. [He steps between them, they fight, Pisaro falls. —Here's thy reward, whoe'er thou art.

Phi. Hast thou no hurt?

Alcan. I think not much, yet somewhere 'tis I bleed.

Pis. What a dull beast am I!

[Exeunt Prince and Alcan.

Enter Page.

Page. My Lord, is't you are fallen? Help, Murder! Murder!

Pis. Hold, bawling Dog.

Enter Alcippus in a Night-gown, with a Sword in his hand, a Page with Lights.

Alcip. 'Twas hereabouts—who's this, Pisaro wounded? [He looks up. How cam'st thou thus? Come up into my Arms.

Pis. 'Twas Jealousy, Alcippus, that wild Monster, Who never leaves us till he has thus betray'd us. —Pox on't, I am asham'd to look upon thee. I have disturb'd you to no purpose, Sir. I am not wounded, go to bed again.

Alcan. I'll see thee to thy Lodgings first, Pisaro.

Pis. 'Twill be unkind both to your self and me.

[Exeunt.



SCENE VII. The Court Gallery.

Enter Philander and Alcander with a Light.

Alcan. He's gone, whoe'er he be.

Phi. It could not be Alcippus.

Alcan. I rather fear Pisaro, —But we soon enough shall know: Who's this?

Enter Erminia in her Night-gown, and lsillia with Lights.

Er. Methought I heard Alcippus and the Prince Before the cry of Murder. I die if those two Rivals have encounter'd.

Phi. Ah, Madam, cease that fear, they both are safe From all but from the Wounds which you have given them.

Er. Oh Gods, what make you here! and where's Alcippus?

Phi. Where I had been had Heaven been bountiful.

Er. Alas, Sir, what do you mean? what have you done? And where have you bestow'd him?

Phi. Why all this high concern, Erminia? Has he so reconcil'd you to him since I saw you last? This is not kind to me.

Er. Oh, tell me not of kindness, where's Alcippus?

Alcan. Madam, of whom do you demand Alcippus? Neither of us have seen him.

Phi. Go, you are a Woman, a vain peevish Creature.

Er. Sir, 'tis but just you should excuse my Fear, Alcippus is my Husband, and his Safety Ought to become my care.

Phi. How, Erminia! Can you so soon yield up my right to him, And not blush whilst you own your Perjury?

Er. Now, Sir, you are much to blame; I could have borne the rest, but this concerns me: I fear I have but too well kept my Vows with you, Since you are grown but to suspect I have not.

Phi. Pardon me, Dear, the errors of my Passion; It was a Sin so natural, That even thy unkindly taking it Approach'd too near it, not to gain my Pardon; But tell me why you askt me for Alcippus?

Er. Sir, e'er I could dispose my Eyes to sleep, I heard the Musick at my Chamber-door, And such a Song as could be none but yours; But that was finish'd in a noise less pleasant, In that of Swords and Quarrel; And amongst which, I thought I heard yours and Alcippus' Voice: (For I have kept my word, and lay not with him) This brought me hither; but if I mistook, Once more I beg your pardon.

Phi. Thou hast restor'd me to a world of Joys, By what thou now hast said.

Enter Alcippus, his Sword in his Hand, a Page with Light, he stands a while.

Alcip. Erminia! and the Prince! embracing too! I dream, and know she could not be thus base, Thus false and loose— But here I am inform'd it is no Vision; —This was design'd before, I find it now. [Lays his hand on his heart.

Er. Alcippus, oh my fears! [Goes to them, takes her by the hand.

Alcip. Yes, Madam, Too soon arriv'd for his and your repose.

Phi. Alcippus, touch her not.

Alcip. Not touch her! by Heaven, I will, And who shall hinder me? Who is't dares say I shall not touch my Wife?

Phi. Villain, thou ly'st.

Alcip. That y'are my Prince shall not defend you here. Draw, Sir, for I have laid respect aside.

[Strikes, they fight a little, Alcippus is wounded, Alcander supports him.

Er. Oh Gods, what mean you? hold, Philander, hold.

Phi. Life of my Soul, retire, I cannot hear that Voice and disobey; And you must needs esteem him at low rates, Who sells thee and his Honour for a Tear.

Er. Upon my knees I beg to be obey'd, [She kneels. —But if I must not, here discharge your Anger.

Phi. You are too great a Tyrant where you may.

[Exeunt Erminia and Alcippus.

Phi. Stay, shall I let her go? shall her Commands, Though they have power to take my Life away, Have force to suffer me to injure her? Shall she be made a prey, and I permit it, Who only have the interest to forbid it? —No, let me be accurst then. [Offers to follow.

Alcan. What mean you, Sir?

Phi. Force the bold Ravisher to resign my Right. Alcander, is not she my Wife, and I his Prince?

Alcan. 'Tis true, Sir: And y'ave both power and justice on your side; And there are times to exercise 'em both.

Phi. Fitter than this, Alcander?

Alcan. This night Erminia's Promise may repose you; To morrow is your own— Till then I beg you'd think your interest safe.

Phi. Alcander, thou hast peace about thee, and canst judge Better than I, 'twixt what is just and fit. [Puts up his Sword. I hitherto believ'd my Flame was guided By perfect Reason: so we often find Vessels conducted by a peaceful Wind, And meet no opposition in their way, Cut a safe passage through the flattering Sea: But when a Storm the bounding Vessel throws, It does each way with equal rage oppose; For when the Seas are mad, could that be calm Like me, it wou'd be ruin'd in the Storm.

[Exeunt.



ACT III.

SCENE I. The apartments of Alcippus.

Enter Alcippus and Pisaro.

Pis. 'Tis much, my Lord, you'll not be satisfy'd.

Alcip. Friendship's too near a-kin to Love, Pisaro, To leave me any Peace, whilst in your Eyes I read Reserves, which 'tis not kind to hide; —Come, prithee tell me what the quarrel was, And who 'twas with; thou shalt, my dear Pisaro.

Pis. Nay, now you urge me to impossibility: Good faith, I cannot tell, but guess the Prince.

Alcip. 'Tis true, Pisaro, 'twas indeed the Prince. But what was th'occasion?

Pis. He call'd me Spy, and I return'd th'affront, But took no notice that he was my Prince: It was a Folly I repented of; But 'twas in a damn'd melancholy Mood.

Alcip. Was it a going in or coming out?

Pis. From whence?

Alcip. Erminia's Chamber; prithee let me know, For I have fears that take away my sleep, Fears that will make me mad, stark mad, Pisaro.

Pis. You do not well to fear without a cause.

Alcip. O Friend, I saw what thou canst ne'er conceive; Last night I saw it when I came from thee: And if thou go'st about t'impose upon me, I'll cast thee from my Soul. Come out with it, I see thy breast heave with a generous ardour, As if it scorn'd to harbour a reserve, Which stood not with its Amity to me. Could I but know my Fate, I could despise it: But when 'tis clad in Robes of Innocence, The Devil cannot 'scape it: Something Was done last night that gnaws my heart-strings; And many things the Princess too let fall, Which, Gods! I know not how to put together. And prithee be not thou a Ridler too: But if thou knew'st of ought that may concern me, Make me as wise as thou art.

Pis. Sir, you are of so strange a jealous Humour, And I so strangely jealous of your Honour, That 'twixt us both we may make work enough; But on my Soul I know no wrong you have.

Alcip. I must believe thee, yet methinks thy Face Has put on an unwonted gravity.

Pis. That, Alcippus, you'll not wonder at, When you shall know you are my Rival.

Alcip. Nay, why shouldst thou delay me thus with stories? This shall not put me off.

Pis. Sir, I'm in earnest, you have gain'd that Heart, For which I have receiv'd so many wounds; Venturing for Trophies where none durst appear, To gain at my Return one single smile, Or that she would submit to hear my story: And when sh'has said, 'twas bravely done, Pisaro, I thought the Glory recompens'd the Toil; And sacrificed my Laurels at her feet, Like those who pay their first-fruits to the Gods, To beg a blessing on the following Crop: And never made her other signs of Love, Nor knew I that I had that easy flame, Till by her Eyes I found that she was mortal, And could love too, and that my Friend is you.

Alcip. Thou hast amaz'd me, prithee speak more clearly.

Pis. My Lord, the Princess has a passion for you, Have I not reason now to be your Enemy?

Alcip. Not till I make returns: But now I'm past redemption miserable. 'Twas she Erminia told me dy'd for me; And I believ'd it but a slight of hers, To put me from my Courtship.

Pis. No, 'twas a fatal Truth: Alcippus, hadst thou seen her, whilst the Priest Was giving thee to fair Erminia, What languishment appear'd upon her Eyes, Which never were remov'd from thy lov'd Face, Through which her melting Soul in drops distill'd, As if she meant to wash away thy Sin, In giving up that Right belong'd to her, Thou hadst without my aid found out this truth: A sweet composure dwelt upon her looks, Like Infants who are smiling whilst they die; Nor knew she that she wept, so unconcern'd And freely did her Soul a passage find; Whilst I transported had almost forgot The Reverence due t'her sacred self and Place, And every moment ready was to kneel, And with my lips gather the precious drops, And rob the Holy Temple of a Relick, Fit only there t'inhabit.

Alcip. I never thought thou'dst had this Softness in thee. How cam'st thou, Friend, to hide all this from me?

Pis. My Lord, I knew not that I was a Lover; I felt no flame, but a religious Ardour, That did inspire my Soul with adoration; And so remote I was from ought but such, I knew not Hope, nor what it was to wish For other blessings than to gaze upon her: Like Heaven I thought she was to be possess'd, Where carnal Thoughts can no admittance find; And had I not perceiv'd her Love to you, I had not known the nature of my flame: But then I found it out by Jealousy, And what I took for a Seraphick motion, I now decline as criminal and earthly.

Alcip. When she can love to a discovery, It shows her Passion eminent and high; —But I am married—to a Maid that hates me: What help for that, Pisaro? And thou hast something too to say of her, What was't? for now thou hast undone me quite.

Pis. I have nought to say to her dishonour, Sir, But something may be done may give you cause To stand upon your Guard; And if your Rage do not the mastery get, I cannot doubt but what you'll be happy yet.

Alcip. Without Erminia that can hardly be, And yet I find a certain shame within That will not suffer me to see the Princess; I have a kind of War within my Soul, My Love against my Glory and my Honour; And I could wish,—alas, I know not what: Prithee instruct me.

Pis. Sir, take a resolution to be calm, And not like Men in love abandon Reason. —You may observe the actions of these Lovers, But be not passionate whate'er you find; That headstrong Devil will undo us all; If you'll be happy, quit its company.

Alcip. I fain would take thy counsel— [Pauses.

Pis. Come, clear up, my Lord, and do not hang the head Like Flowers in storms; the Sun will shine again. Set Galatea's Charms before your Eyes, Think of the Glory to divide a Kingdom; And do not waste your noble Youth and Time Upon a peevish Heart you cannot gain. This day you must to th'Camp, and in your absence I'll take upon me what I scorn'd last night, The Office of a Spy— Believe me, Sir, for by the Gods I swear, I never wish'd the glory of a Conquest With half that zeal as to compose these differences.

Alcip. I do believe thee, and will tell thee something That past between the Prince and I last night; And then thou wilt conclude me truly miserable.

[Exeunt.



SCENE II. The Palace.

Enter Falatius, Labree, as passing by they meet Cleontius.

Cle. Your Servant, my Lord. —So coldly, stay—your reason, Sir.

[Fal. puts off his Hat a little, and passes on.

Fal. How mean you, Sir?

Cle. Do you not know me?

Fal. Yes, I have seen you, and think you are Cleontius, A Servant of the Prince's; wert i'th' Campania too, If I mistake not.

Cle. Can you recal me by no better instances?

Fal. What need of any, pray?

Cle. I am a Gentleman.

Fal. Ha, Labree, what means he now? By Jove, I do not question it, Cleontius: What need this odd Punctilio? I call thee to no account.

Cle. That's more than I can say to you, Sir.

Fal. I'll excuse you for that.

Cle. But shall not need, Sir; stay, I have a Sister.

Fal. Oh, the Devil, now he begins.

Cle. A handsome Sister too, or you deceiv'd her.

Lab. Bear up, Sir, be not huft. [Aside.

Fal. It may be so, but is she kind, Cleontius? [Fal. bears up.

Cle. What mean you by that word?

Lab. Again, Sir, here's two to one. [Aside.

Fal. Will she do reason, or so? you understand me.

Cle. I understand that thou'rt an impudent fellow, Whom I must cudgel into better manners.

Fal. Pox on't, who bears up now, Labree?

Cle. Beat thee till thou confess thou art an Ass, And on thy knees confess it to Isillia, Who after that shall scorn thee.

Lab. Railly with him, Sir, 'tis your only way, and put it Off with a jest; for he's in fury, but dares not Strike i'th' Court.

Fal. But must you needs do this, needs fight, Cleontius?

Cle. Yes, by all means, I find my self inclin'd to't.

Fal. You shall have your desire, Sir, farewel.

Cle. When, and where?

Fal. Faith, very suddenly, for I think it will not be Hard to find men of your trade, Men that will fight as long as you can do, And Men that love it much better than I, Men that are poor and damn'd, fine desperate Rogues, Rascals that for a Pattacoon a Man Will fight their Fathers, And kiss their Mothers into peace again: Such, Sir, I think will fit you.

Cle. Abusive Coward, hast thou no sense of honour?

Fal. Sense of honour! ha, ha, ha, poor Cleontius.

Enter Aminta and Olinda.

Am. How now, Servant, why so jovial?

Fal. I was laughing, Madam—at—

Cle. At what, thou thing of nothing—

Am. Cousin Cleontius, you are angry.

Cle. Madam, it is unjustly then, for Fools Should rather move the Spleen to Mirth than Anger.

Am. You've too much wit to take ought ill from him: Let's know your quarrel.

Fal. By Jove, Labree, I am undone again.

Cle. Madam, it was about—

Fal. Hold, dear Cleontius, hold, and I'll do any thing. [Aside.

Cle. Just nothing—

Fal. He was a little too familiar with me.

Cle. Madam, my Sister Isillia—

Fal. A curse, he will out with it— [Aside, pulls him by the Arm.

Cle. Confess she is your Mistress. [Aside.

Fal. I call my Mistress, Madam.

Am. My Cousin Isillia your Mistress! Upon my word, you are a happy Man.

Fal. By Jove, if she be your Cousin, Madam, I love her much the better for't.

Am. I am beholding to you, But then it seems I have lost a Lover of you.

Cle. Confess she has, or I'll so handle you.

[Ex. Labree.

Fal. That's too much, Cleontius—but I will, By Jove, Madam, I must not have a Mistress that Has more Wit than my self, they ever require More than a Man's able to give them.

Oli. Is this your way of Courtship to Isillia?

[Ex. Cle.

Fal. By Jove, Ladies, you get no more of that from me, 'Tis that has spoiled you all; I find Alcander can Do more with a dumb show, than I with all my Applications and Address.

Oli. Why, my Brother can speak.

Fal. Yes, if any body durst hear him; by Jove, if you Be not kind to him, he'll hector you all; I'll get The way on't too, 'tis the most prosperous one; I see no Other reason you have to love Alcander Better than I.

Am. Why should you think I do?

Fal. Devil, I see't well enough by your continual Quarrels with him.

Am. Is that so certain a proof?

Fal. Ever while you live, you treat me too Well ever to hope.

Enter Alcander, kneels, offers his Sword to Aminta.

—What new Masquerade's this? by Jove, Alcander Has more tricks than a dancing Bear.

Am. What mean you by this present?

Alcan. Kill me.

Am. What have you done to merit it?

Alcan. Do not ask, but do't.

Am. I'll have a reason first.

Alcan. I think I've kill'd Pisaro.

Am. My Brother dead! [She falls into the arms of Oli.

Fal. Madam, look up, 'tis I that call.

Am. I care not who thou beest, but if a Man, Revenge me on Alcander. [She goes out with Oli.

Fal. By Jove, she has mistook her Man, This 'tis to be a Lover now: A Man's never out of one broil or other; But I have more Wit than Aminta this bout. [Offers to go.

Alcan. Come back and do your duty e'er you go. [Pulls him.

Fal. I owe you much, Alcander.

Alcan. Amimta said you should revenge her on me.

Fal. Her Word's not Law I hope.

Alcan. And I'll obey—

Fal. That may do much indeed. [Fal. answers with great signs of fear.

Alcan. This, if thou wert a Man, she bad thee do, Why dost thou shake?

Fal. No, no, Sir, I am not the man she meant.

Alcan. No matter, thou wilt serve as well. A Lover! and canst disobey thy Mistress?

Fal. I do disown her, since she is so wicked To bid me kill my Friend. Why, thou'rt my Friend, Alcander.

Alcan. I'll forgive thee that.

Fal. So will not his Majesty: I may be hang'd for't.

Alcan. Thou should'st be damn'd e'er disobey thy Mistress.

Fal. These be degrees of Love I am not yet arriv'd at; When I am, I shall be as ready to be damn'd In honour as any Lover of you all.

Alcan. Ounds, Sir, d'ye railly with me?

Fal. Your pardon, sweet Alcander, I protest I am Not in so gay an humour.

Alcan. Farewell, I had forgot my self. [Exit.

Fal. Stark mad, by Jove—yet it may be not, for Alcander has many unaccountable humours. Well, if this be agreeable to Aminta, she's e'en as mad As he, and 'twere great pity to part them.

Enter Pisaro, Aminta, and Olinda.

Am. Well, have you kill'd him?

Fal. Some wiser than some, Madam. —My Lord—what, alive?— [Sees Pisaro, runs to him, and embraces him.

Pis. Worth two dead men, you see.

Fal. That's more than I could have said within This half hour. Alcander's very Orlando, by Jove, and gone To seek out one that's madder yet than himself That will kill him.

Am. Oh, dear Falatius, run and fetch him back.

Fal. Madam, I have so lately 'scap'd a scouring, That I wish you would take it for a mark Of my Passion to disobey you; For he is in a damn'd humour.

Am. He's out of it by this, I warrant you; But do not tell him that Pisaro lives.

Fal. That's as I shall find occasion. [Exit Fal.

Pis. Alcander is a worthy Youth and brave, I wish you would esteem him so; 'Tis true, there's now some difference between us, Our Interests are dispos'd to several ways, But Time and Management will join us all: I'll leave you; but prithee make it thy business To get my Pardon for last night's rudeness.

Am. I shall not fail.

[Exit Pis.

Re-enter Falatius, with Alcander melancholy.

Fal. Here, Madam, here he is.

Am. Tell me, Alcander, why you treat me thus? You say you love me, if I could believe you.

Alcan. Believe a Man! away, you have no wit, I'll say as much to every pretty Woman.

Am. But I have given you no cause to wrong me.

Alcan. That was my Fate, not Fault, I knew him not: But yet to make up my offence to you, I offer you my life; for I'm undone, If any faults of mine should make you sad.

Am. Here, take your Sword again, my Brother's well. [She gives him his Sword again.

Fal. Yes, by Jove, as I am: you had been finely serv'd, If I had kill'd you now.

Am. What, sorry for the news? ha, ha, ha.

Alcan. No, sorry y'are a Woman, a mere Woman.

Am. Why, did you ever take me for a Man? ha, ha.

Alcan. Thy Soul, I thought, was all so; but I see You have your weakness, can dissemble too; —I would have sworn that Sorrow in your face Had been a real one: Nay, you can die in jest, you can, false Woman: I hate thy Sex for this.

Fal. By Jove, there is no truth in them, that's flat. [She looks sad.

Alcan. Why that repentant look? what new design? Come, now a tear or two to second that, And I am soft again, a very Ass. —But yet that Look would call a Saint from th'Altar, And make him quite forget his Ceremony, Or take thee for his Deity: —But yet thou hast a very Hell within, Which those bewitching Eyes draw Souls into.

Fal. Here's he that fits you, Ladies.

Am. Nay, now y'are too unjust, and I will leave you.

Alcan. Ah, do not go, I know not by what Magick, [Holds her. But as you move, my Soul yields that way too.

Fal. The truth on't is, she has a strong magnetick Power, that I find.

Alcan. But I would have none find it but my self, No Soul but mine shall sympathize with hers.

Fal. Nay, that you cannot help.

Alcan. Yes, but I can, and take it from thee, if I thought it did so.

Oli. No quarrels here, I pray.

Fal. Madam, I owe a Reverence to the Place.

Alcan. I'll scarce allow thee that; Madam, I'll leave you to your Lover.

Am. I hate thee but for saying so.

Alcan. Quit him then.

Am. So I can and thee too. [Offers to go out.

Alcan. The Devil take me if you escape me so. [Goes after her.

Fal. And I'll not be out-done in importunity.

[Goes after.



SCENE III. Galatea's Apartments.

Enter Galatea and Erminia.

Er. And 'tis an act below my Quality, Which, Madam, will not suffer me to fly.

Gal. Erminia, e'er you boast of what you are, Since you're so high I'll tell you what you were: Your Father was our General 'tis true, That Title justly to his Sword was due; 'Twas nobly gain'd, and worth his Blood and Toils, Had he been satisfied with noble Spoils: But with that single honour not content, He needs must undermine the Government; And 'cause h'ad gain'd the Army to his side, Believ'd his Treason must be justify'd. For this (and justly) he was banished; Where whilst a low and unknown life he led, Far from the hope and glory of a Throne, In a poor humble Cottage you were born; Your early Beauty did it self display, Nor could no more conceal it self than Day: Your Eyes did first Philander's Soul inspire, And Fortune too conform'd her to his fire. That made your Father greater than before, And what he justly lost that did restore. 'Twas that which first thy Beauty did disclose, Which else had wither'd like an unseen Rose; 'Twas that which brought thee to the Court, and there Dispos'd thee next my self, i'th' highest Sphere: Alas, obscurely else thou'dst liv'd and died, Not knowing thy own Charms, nor yet this Pride.

Er. Madam, in this your Bounty is severe, Be pleas'd to spare that repetition here. I hope no Action of my Life should be So rude to charge your Generosity: But, Madam, do you think it just to pay Your great Obligements by so false a way? Alcippus' Passion merits some return, And should that prove but an ingrateful scorn? Alas, I am his Wife; to disobey, My Fame as well as Duty I betray.

Gal. Perfidious Maid, I might have thought thou'dst prove False to thy Prince, and Rival in my Love. I thought too justly he that conquer'd me Had a sufficient power to captive thee; Thou'st now reveng'd thy Father's shame and thine, In taking thus Philander's Life and mine.

[Er. weeps.

Er. Ah, Madam, that you would believe my tears, Or from my Vows but satisfy your Fears. By all the Gods, Alcippus I do hate, And would do any thing to change my fate; Ought that were just and noble I dare do.

Gal. Enough, Erminia, I must credit you, And will no other proof of it require, But that you'll now submit to my desire; Indeed, Erminia, you must grant my suit, Where Love and Honour calls, make no dispute. Pity a Youth that never lov'd before, Remember 'tis a Prince that does adore; Who offers up a Heart that never found It could receive, till from your Eyes, a wound.

Er. To your command should I submit to yield, Where could I from Alcippus be conceal'd? What could defend me from his jealous Rage?

Gal. Trust me, Erminia, I'll for that engage.

Er. And then my Honour by that flight's o'erthrown.

Gal. That being Philander's, he'll preserve his own; And that, Erminia, sure you'll ne'er distrust.

Er. Ah, Madam, give me leave to fear the worst.

Enter Aminta.

Am. Madam, Alcippus waits for your Commands, He's going to the Camp.

Gal. Admit him.

Enter Alcippus and Pisaro.

Gal. Alcippus, 'tis too soon to leave Erminia.

Alcip. I wish she thought so, Madam, Or could believe with what regret I do so; She then would think the fault were much too small For such a Penance as my Soul must suffer.

Am. No matter, Sir, you have the Year before you.

Alcip. Yes, Madam, so has every Galley Slave, That knows his Toil, but not his Recompence: To morrow I expect no more content, Than this uneasy Day afforded me; And all before me is but one grand piece Of endless Grief and Madness: —You, Madam, taught Erminia to be cruel, A Vice without your aid she could have learnt; And now to exercise that new taught Art, She tries the whole experience on my Heart.

Gal. If she do so, she learnt it not of me, I love, and therefore know no Cruelty: Such outrage cannot well with Love reside, Which only is the mean effect of Pride: —I merit better thoughts from you, Alcippus.

Alcip. Pardon me, Madam, if my Passion stray Beyond the limits of my high respect; [He kneels. —'Tis a rude gust, and merits your reproaches: But yet the saucy Flame can ne'er controul That Adoration which I owe my Princess: That, with Religion, took possession here, And in my Prayers I mix with you the Deities.

Gal. I'ad rather you should treat me as a Mortal, Rise and begin to do so.

[He rises and bows.

Alcip. Now, Madam, what must I expect from you?

Er. Alcippus, all that's to your Virtue due.

Alcip. In that but common Justice you allow.

Er. That Justice, Sir, is all I can bestow.

Alcip. In justice then you ought to me resign, That which the Holy Priest intitled mine; Yet that, without your Heart, I do despise, For uncompell'd I'd have that sacrifice: —Come ease me of that Pain that presses here, Give me but Hope that may secure my Fear, I'm not asham'd to own my Soul possest With Jealousy, that takes away my rest. —Tell me you'll love, or that my Suit is vain, Do any thing to ease me of my pain. Gods, Madam, why d'ye keep me in suspence? This cannot be the effects of Innocence; By Heaven, I'll know the cause, where e'er it lies, Nor shall you fool me with your feign'd disguise.

Pis. You do forget your promise, and this Presence. [Aside to Alcip.

Alcip. 'Twas kindly urg'd, prithee be near me still, And tell me of the faults that look unmanly.

Gal. Dear, if thou lov'st me, flatter him a little. [To Er. aside.

Er. 'Tis hard to do, yet I will try it, Madam.

Gal. I'll leave you, that you may the better do so. —I hope, Alcippus, you'll revisit us With Lover's speed: And whatsoever treatment now you find, At your return you'll find us much more kind. [He bows, she goes out.

Alcip. Can you forgive the rashness of a Man, That knows no other Laws but those of Passion?

Er. You are unkind to think I do not, Sir; —Yes, and am grown so softned by my pity, That I'm afraid I shall neglect my Vows, And to return your Passion, grow ingrate.

Alcip. A few more syllables express'd like these, Will raise my Soul up to the worst extreme, And give me with your Scorn an equal torment.

Er. See what power your language has upon me. [Weeps.

Alcip. Ah, do not weep, a tear or two's enough For the Completion of your Cruelty, That when it fail'd to exercise your will, Sent those more powerful Weapons from your Eyes, And what by your severity you mist of, These (but a more obliging way) perform. Gently, Erminia, pour the Balsam in, That I may live, and taste the sweets of Love. —Ah, should you still continue, as you are, Thus wondrous good, thus excellently fair, I should retain my growing name in War, And all the Glories I have ventur'd for, And fight for Crowns to recompense thy Bounty. —This can your Smiles; but when those Beams are clouded, Alas, I freeze to very Cowardice, And have not Courage left to kill my self.

Er. A Fate more glorious does that Life attend, And does preserve you for a nobler end.

Alcip. Erminia, do not sooth my easy Heart, For thou my Fate, and thou my Fortune art; Whatever other blessings Heaven design, Without my dear Erminia, I'll decline. Yet, Madam, let me hope before I go, In pity that you ought to let me do: 'Tis all you shall allow m'impatient heart.

Er. That's what against my will I must impart: But wish it please the Gods, when next we meet, We might as Friends, and not as Lovers greet.

[Exeunt.



ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Palace.

Enter Galatea and Aminta, met by Philander and Alcander.

Phi. So hasty, Sister!

Gal. Brother, I am glad to meet you. Aminta has some welcome News for you.

Am. My Lord! Erminia yet is hardly brought to yield; She wants but some encouragement from you, That may assist her weakness to subdue, And 'twas but faintly she deny'd to see you.

Phi. However, I will venture, She can but chide, and that will soon be past: A Lover's Anger is not long to last.

Am. Isillia I have won to give you entrance.

Phi. Love furnish me with powerful Arguments: Direct my Tongue, that my disorder'd Sense May speak my Passion more than Eloquence. [Aside.

Gal. But is Alcippus gone?

Alcan. Madam, an hour since.

Phi. 'Tis well; and Sister, Whilst I persuade Erminia to this flight, Make it your business to persuade the King, Hang on his neck, and kiss his willing cheek: Tell him how much you love him, and then smile, And mingle Words with Kisses; 'twill o'ercome him Thou hast a thousand pretty Flatteries, Which have appeas'd his highest fits of Passion: A Song from thee has won him to that rest, Which neither Toil nor Silence could dispose him to. Thou know'st thy power, and now or never use it.

Gal. 'Twas thither I was going.

Phi. May'st thou be prosperous.

[Exeunt Phi. and Gal. Aminta and Alcander stay.

Am. What now, Alcander?

Alcan. As 'twas, Aminta.

Am. How's that?

Alcan. Such a distracted Lover as you left me.

Am. Such as I found you too, I fear, Alcander.

Alcan. Ah, Madam, do not wrong me so; Till now I never knew the joys and sorrows That do attend a Soul in love like mine: My Passion only fits the Object now; I hate to tell you so, 'tis a poor low means To gain a Mistress by, of so much wit: Aminta, you're above that common rate Of being won. Mean Beauties should be flatter'd into praise, Whilst you need only Sighs from every Lover, To tell you who you conquer, and not how, Nor to instruct you what attracts you have.

Am. This will not serve to convince me, But you have lov'd before.

Alcan. And will you never quit that error, Madam?

Am. 'Tis what I've reason to believe, Alcander, And you can give me none for loving me: I'm much unlike Lucinda whom you sigh'd for, I'm not so coy, nor so reserv'd as she; Nor so designing as Florana your next Saint, Who starv'd you up with hope, till you grew weary; And then Ardelia did restore that loss, The little soft Ardelia, kind and fair too.

Alcan. You think you're wondrous witty now, Aminta, But hang me if you be.

Am. Indeed, Alcander, no, 'tis simple truth: Then for your bouncing Mistress, long Brunetta, O that majestick Garb, 'tis strangely taking, That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead That stand beneath them.

Alcander, I have none of all these Charms: But well, you say you love me; could you be Content to dismiss these petty sharers in your Heart, And give it all to me; on these conditions I may do much.

Alcan. Aminta, more perhaps than I may like.

Am. Do not fear that, Alcander.

Alcan. Your Jealousy incourages that Fear.

Am. If I be so, I'm the fitter for your humour.

Alcan. That's another reason for my fears; that ill-Luck owes us a spite, and will be sure to pay us with loving one another, a thought I dread. Farewel, Aminta; when I can get loose from Ardelia, I may chance wait on you, till then your own Pride be your Companion.

[Holds him.

Am. Nay, you shall not go, Alcander.

Alcan. Fy on't, those Looks have lost their wonted Force, I knew you'd call me back to smile upon me, And then you have me sure; no, no, Aminta, I'll no more of that. [Goes out.

Am. I have too much betray'd my Passion for him, —I must recal it, if I can I must:— I will—for should I yield, my power's o'erthrown, And what's a Woman when that glory's gone?

[Exit.



SCENE II. The Apartments of Alcippus.

Enter Alcippus and Pisaro.

Pis. You seem'd then to be pleas'd with what she said.

Alcip. And then methought I was so, But yet even then I fear'd she did dissemble. —Gods, what's a Man possest with Jealousy?

Pis. A strange wild thing, a Lover without reason; I once have prov'd the torture on't, But as unlike to thine as good from evil; Like fire in Limbecks, mine was soft and gentle, Infusing kindly heat, till it distill'd The spirits of the Soul out at my Eyes, And so it ended. But thine's a raging Fire, which never ceases Till it has quite destroy'd the goodly Edifice Where it first took beginning. Faith, strive, Sir, to suppress it.

Alcip. No, I'll let it run to its extent, And see what then 'twill do. Perhaps 'twill make me mad, or end my life, Either of which will ease me.

Pis. Neither of these, Alcippus; It will unman you, make you too despis'd; And those that now admire will pity you.

Alcip. What wouldst thou have me do? Am I not ty'd a Slave to follow Love, Whilst at my back Freedom and Honour waits, And I have lost the power to welcome them? Like those who meet a Devil in the night, And all afrighted gaze upon the Fury, But dare not turn their backs to what they fear, Though safety lie behind them. Alas! I would as willingly as those Fly from this Devil, Love.

Pis. You may, like those afrighted, by degrees Allay your sense of terror in the Object, And then its Power will lesson with your Fear, And 'twill be easy to forgo the Fantasm.

Alcip. No, then like the damn'd Ghost it follows me.

Pis. Let Reason then approach it, and examine it.

Alcip. Love is a surly and a lawless Devil, And will not answer Reason. I must encounter it some other way, For I will lay the Fiend.

Pis. What would you have, Alcippus?

Alcip. I'd have fair play, Pisaro. —I find the cheat, and will not to the Camp; —Thou shalt supply my place, and I'll return: The Night grows on, and something will be done That I must be acquainted with.

Pis. Pardon me, Sir, if I refuse you here; I find you're growing up to Jealousies, Which I'll not trust alone with you.

Alcip. Thou know'st perhaps of something worthy it.

Pis. I must confess, your Passions give me cause, If I had any Secrets, to conceal them; But 'tis no time nor place to make disputes in: Will you to Horse?

Alcip. Will you not think fit I should return then? I can be calm.

Pis. What is't you mean by this return, Alcippus?

Alcip. To see Erminia, is not that enough To one in love, as I am?

Pis. But, Sir, suppose you find Philander there?

Alcip. Then I suppose I shall not much approve on't.

Pis. You would be at your last night's rage again. Alcippus, this will ruin you for ever, Nor is it all the Power you think you have Can save you, if he once be disoblig'd. Believe me 'twas the Princess' passion for you Made up that breach last night.

Alcip. All this I know as well as you, Pisaro, But will not be abus'd; alas, I'm lost: Could I recal these two last days are past, Ah, I should be my self again, Pisaro. I would refuse these Fetters which I wear, And be a Slave to nothing but to Glory.

Pis. That were a Resolution worthy of you. —But come, 'tis late, what you resolve conclude.

Alcip. I am resolv'd I will not to the Camp, A secret inclination does persuade me To visit my Erminia to night.

Pis. Comes it from Love or Jealousy?

Alcip. The first, good faith, Pisaro; thou'rt so fearful— You shall to th'Camp before, And I'll be with you early in the Morning.

Pis. Give me your hand, and promise to be calm.

Alcip. By all our Friendships, as the Western Winds, [Gives his hand. Nothing that's done shall e'er inrage me more, Honour's the Mistress I'll henceforth adore. [Exit.

Pis. I will not trust you though.

[Goes out another way.



SCENE III. The Court Gallery.

Enter Philander and Alcander in their Clokes muffled as in the dark.

Alcan. Isillia. [Calls at the lodgings of Erminia.

Isil. [Entering.] Who's there?

Alcan. A Friend.

Isil. My Lord Alcander?

Alcan. The same.

Isil. Where's the Prince?

Phi. Here, Isillia.

Isil. Give me your hand, my Lord, and follow me.

Phi. To such a Heaven as thou conduct'st me to, Though thou should'st traverse Hell, I'd follow thee.

Alcan. You'll come back in charity, Isillia?

Isil. Yes, if I dare trust you alone with me.

[They go all in.



SCENE IV.

Draws off, a Chamber, discovers Erminia in a dishabit, sitting; to her Philander, who falls at her feet, on his knees.

Er. My Lord the Prince, what makes your Highness here?

Phi. Erminia, why do ask that needless question? 'Twas Love, Love that's unsatisfied, which brought me hither. [Kneels.

Er. Rise, Sir, this posture would become me better.

Phi. Permit me, dear Erminia—to remain thus. 'Tis only by these signs I can express What my Confusion will not let me utter. I know not what strange power thou bear'st about thee, But at thy sight or touch my Sense forsakes me, And that, withal I had design'd to say, Turns to a strange disorder'd Rapture in me. —Oh Erminia—

Er. How do you, Sir?

Phi. I am not well; Too suddenly I pass from one extreme To this of Joy, more insupportable: But I shall re-assume my health anon, And tell thee all my story.

Er. Dear Sir, retire into this inner room, And there repose awhile: Alas, I see disorder in your Face.

Phi. This confidence of me, is generous in thee.

[They go into the Scene which draws over.



SCENE V. The Court Gallery.

Enter Alcippus.

Alcip. The Night is calm and silent as my Thoughts, Where nothing now but Love's soft whispers dwell; Who in as gentle terms upbraids my Rage, Which strove to dispossess the Monarch thence: It tells me how dishonest all my Fears are, And how ungrateful all my Jealousies; And prettily persuades those Infidels To be less rude and mutinous hereafter. Ah, that I could remain in this same state, And be contented with this Monarchy: I would, if my wild multitude of Passions Could be appeas'd with it; but they're for Liberty, And nothing but a Common-wealth within Will satisfy their appetites of Freedom. —Pride, Honour, Glory, and Ambition strive How to expel this Tyrant from my Soul, But all too weak, though Reason should assist them. [He knocks. Alcander looks out at the door.

Alcan. Who's there?

Alcip. A Friend.

Isil. [Within.] Oh Heavens! it is my Lord Alcippus' voice.

Alcan. Peace, Isillia.

Alcip. I hear a Man within—open the door. Now, Love, defend thy Interest, or my Jealousy Will grow the mightier Devil of the two else. [Alcan. comes out. —Who's this? one muffled in a Cloke? What art thou, who at this dead time of Night Hast took possession here? —Speak, or I'll kill thee.

Alcan. This were an opportunity indeed To do my Prince a service, but I dare not.

Alcip. What darest not do?

Alcan. Not kill thee.

Alcip. Is that thy business then? have at thee, Slave? I'll spoil your keeping doors. [Runs at him.

[They fight, and grapling, Alcander gets the Sword of Alcippus.

He'as got my Sword, however, I'll lose no time: It may be 'tis his office to detain me. [He goes in.

Alcan. I'm wounded, yet I will not leave him so; There may be Mischief in him, though unarm'd.

[Goes in.



SCENE VI. A Bed-chamber.

Discovers Erminia, Philander sitting on the Bed, to them Isillia, a Sword and Hat on the Table.

Isil. Ah, Madam, Alcippus.

Er. Alcippus, where?

Isil. I left him in a quarrel with Alcander, And hear him coming up.

Er. For Heaven's sake, Sir, submit to be conceal'd.

Phi. Not for the world, Erminia, My Innocence shall be my guard and thine.

Er. Upon my knees I'll beg you'll be conceal'd, [A noise. He comes; Philander, for my safety go.

Phi. I never did obey with more regret.

[He hides himself behind the Bed, and in haste leaves his Sword and Hat on the Table; Alcippus comes in.

Alcip. How now, Erminia? How comes it you are up so late?

Er. I found my self not much inclin'd to sleep; I hope 'tis no offence. Why do you look so wildly round about you?

Alcip. Methinks, Erminia, you are much confus'd.

Er. Alas, you cannot blame me; Isillia tells me you were much inrag'd Against a Lover she was entertaining.

Alcip. A Lover—was that a time for Courtship? Such Actions, Madam, will reflect on you.

[Isillia goes to take the Hat and Sword and slide into her lap, which he sees, calls to her.

—What have you there, Isillia? Come back, and let me see what 'tis. [He takes them from her. —Ha—a Sword and Hat—Erminia, whose be these?

Er. Why do you ask—

Alcip. To be inform'd, is that so great a wonder?

Er. They be my Father's, Sir—

Alcip. Was that well said, Erminia?—speak again.

Er. What is't you would know?

Alcip. The truth, Erminia, 'twould become you best. Do you think I take these things to be your Father's? No, treacherous Woman, I have seen this Sword, [Draws the Sword. Worn by a Man more vigorous than thy Father, It had not else been here. —Where have you hid this mighty Man of valour? Have you exhausted so his stock of Courage, He has not any left t'appear withal?

Phi. Yes, base Alcippus, I have still that Courage, Th'effects of which thou hast beheld with wonder; And now being fortified by Innocence, Thou't find sufficient to chastise thy boldness: Restore my Sword, and prove the truth of this.

Alcip. I've hardly so much Calmness left to answer thee, And tell thee, Prince, thou art deceiv'd in me. —I know 'tis just I should restore thy Sword, But thou hast show'd the basest of thy play, And I'll return th'uncivil Treachery; You merit Death for this base Injury. But you're my Prince, and that I own you so, Is all remains in me of Sense or Justice; The rest is Rage, which if thou gett'st not hence Will eat up that small morsel too of Reason, And leave me nothing to preserve thy life with.

Phi. Gods, am I tame, and hear the Traytor brave me? [Offers to run into him. I have resentment left, though nothing else.

Alcip. Stand off, by all that's good, I'll kill thee else. [Er. puts her self between.

Er. Ah, hold, Sir, hold, the Prince has no defence, And you are more than arm'd; [To Alcip. What honour is't to let him murder you? [To the Prince. —Nor would your Fame be lessen'd by retreat.

Phi. Alas, I dare not leave thee here with him.

Er. Trust me, Sir, I can make him calm again.

Alcip. She counsels well, and I advise you take it.

Phi. I will, but not for fear of thee or Death, But from th'assurance that her Power's sufficient To allay this unbecoming Fury in thee, And bring thee to repentance.

[He gives him his Sword; Philander goes out, Alcippus locks the door after him.

Er. Alcippus, what do you mean?

Alcip. To know where 'twas you learn'd this Impudence? Which you're too cunning in, Not to have been a stale practitioner.

Er. Alas, what will you do?

Alcip. Preserve thy Soul, if thou hast any sense Of future Joys, after this vile damn'd Action.

Er. Ah, what have I done?

Alcip. That which if I should let thee live, Erminia, Would never suffer thee to look abroad again. —Thou'st made thy self and me— Oh, I dare not name the Monsters.— But I'll destroy them while the Gods look down, And smile upon my Justice.

[He strangles her with a Garter, which he snatches from his Leg, or smothers her with a pillow.

Er. Hold, hold, and hear my Vows of Innocence.

Alcip. Let me be damn'd as thou art, if I do; [Throws her on a Bed, he sits down in a Chair. —So now, my Heart, I have redeem'd thee nobly, Sit down and pause a while— But why so still and tame, is one poor Murder Enough to satisfy thy storm of Passion? If it were just, it ought not here to end; —If not—I've done too much—

[One knocks, he rises after a little pause, and opens the door; enter Page.

Page. My Lord, Pisaro—

Alcip. Pisaro,—Oh, that Name has wakened me, A Name till now had never Terror in't! —I will not speak with him.

Page. My Lord, he's here. [Page goes out.

Enter Pisaro.

Pis. Not speak with me! nay then I fear the worst.

Alcip. Not for the world, Pisaro—

[Hides his face with his hand, Pis. sees Erminia.

Pis. Thy guilt is here too plain, I need not read it in thy blushing face, She's dead and pale: Ah, sweet Erminia!

Alcip. If she be dead, the fitter she's for me, She'll now be coy no more, nor cry I cannot love, And frown and blush, when I but kiss her hand: Now I shall read no terror in her Eyes, And what is better yet, shall ne'er be jealous.

Pis. Why didst thou make such haste to be undone? Had I detain'd thee but an hour longer, Thou'dst been the only happy of thy Sex. —I knew thou didst dissemble when we parted, And therefore durst not trust thee with thy Passions: I only staid to gather from my Sister What news I might concerning your affairs, Which I with joy came to impart to you, But most unfortunately came too late: Why didst thou yield obedience to that Devil, Which urg'd thee to destroy this Innocent?

Alcip. Pisaro, do not err; I found the Prince and she alone together, He all disorder'd like a Ravisher, Loose and unbutton'd for the amorous play; O that she had another Life to lose!

Pis. You wrong her most inhumanly, you do; Her Blood, yet sensible of the injury, Flows to her face to upbraid thy Cruelty. —Where dost thou mean, bad Man, to hide thy head? Vengeance and Justice will pursue thee close, And hardly leave thee time for Penitence. —What will the Princess say to this return You've made to all the offers she has sent This Night by Prince Philander?

Alcip. Oh, when you name the Princess and Philander, Such different Passions do at once possess me, As sink my over-laden Soul to Hell. —Alas, why do I live? 'tis losing time; For what is Death, a pain that's sooner ended Than what I felt from every frown of hers? —It was but now that lovely thing had Life, Could speak and weep, and had a thousand Charms, That had oblig'd a Murder, and Madness't self To've been her tame Adorers. Yet now should even her best belov'd, the Prince, With all his Youth, his Beauties and Desires, Fall at her Feet, and tell his tale of Love, She hardly would return his amorous Smiles, Or pay his meeting Kisses back again; Is not that fine, Pisaro?

Pis. Sir, 'tis no time to talk in, come with me, For here's no safety for a Murderer.

Alcip. I will not go, alas I seek no Safety.

Pis. I will not now dispute that vain reply, But force you to security.

[Pisaro draws him out, the Scene closes.



SCENE VII. The Palace.

Enter Philander, Alcander, Galatea, Aminta, and Falatius.

Fal. Ah, fly, Sir, fly from what I have to tell you.

Alcan. What's the news?

Fal. Ah, Sir, the dismal'st heavy news that e'er was told or heard.

Gal. No matter, out with it.

Fal. Erminia, Madam—

Phi. Erminia, what of her?

Fal. Is dead, Sir.

Alcan. What, hast thou lost thy Wits?

Fal. I had them not about me at the sight, I else had been undone: Alas, Erminia's dead, Murder'd, and dead.

Alcan. It cannot be, thou ly'st.

Fal. By Jove, I do not, Sir, I saw her dead: Alas, I ran as I was wont to do, Without demanding licence, to her Chamber, But found her not, as I was wont to do, [The Women weep. In a gay humour, but stone-dead and cold.

Phi. Alcander, am I awake?—or being so, Dost not perceive this senseless Flesh of mine Hardened into a cold benumbed Statue? —Methinks—it does—support me—or I fall; And so—shall break to pieces— [Falls into his Arms. He leads him out.

Gal. Ah, lovely Maid, was this thy destiny? Did Heaven create thy Beauties to this end? —I must distrust their Bounties, who neglected The best and fairest of their handy-work; This will incourage Sin, when Innocence Must perish thus, and meet with no defence.

Enter the King and Orgulius.

Org. If murder'd Innocence do cry for Justice, Can you, great Sir, make a defence against it?

King. I think I cannot.

Org. Sir, as you are pious, as you are my King, The Lover and Protector of your People, Revenge Erminia's Murder on Alcippus.

Gal. If e'er my Mother, Sir, were dear to you, As from your Tears I guest whene'er you nam'd her; If the remembrance of those Charms remain, Whose weak resemblance you have found in me, For which you oft have said you lov'd me dearly; Dispense your mercy, and preserve this Copy, Which else must perish with th'Original.

King. Why all this Conjuration, Galatea?

Gal. To move you, Sir, to spare Alcippus' Life.

King. You are unjust, if you demand a Life Must fall a Sacrifice to Erminia's Ghost, That is a debt I have ingag'd to pay.

Gal. Sir, if that Promise be already past, And that your Word be irrevocable, I vow I will not live a moment after him.

King. How, Galatea! I'd rather hop'd you'd join'd Your Prayers with his.

Gal. Ah, Sir, the late Petition which I made you Might have inform'd you why these Knees are bow'd; 'Twas but this night I did confess I lov'd him, And you would have allow'd that Passion in me, Had he not been Erminia's: And can you question now what this Address meant?

Org. Remember, Sir, Erminia was my Daughter.

Gal. And, Sir, remember that I am your Daughter.

Org. And shall the Traitor live that murder'd her?

Gal. And will you by his Death, Sir, murder me? In dear Erminia's Death too much is done; If you revenge that Death, 'tis two for one.

Org. Ah, Sir, to let him live's unjust in you.

Gal. And killing me, you more injustice do.

Org. Alcippus, Madam, merits not your Love, That could so cruel to Erminia prove.

Gal. If Lovers could be rul'd by Reason's Laws, For this complaint on him we'ad had no cause. 'Twas Love that made him this rash act commit; Had she been kind, 't had taught him to submit. —But might it not your present Griefs augment, I'd say that you deserve this punishment, By forcing her to marry with the General; By which you have destroy'd Philander too, And now you would Alcippus' Life undo.

Org. That was a fault of duty to your Majesty.

King. Though that were honest, 'twere not wisely done; For had I known the passion of my Son, And how essential 'twas to his content I willingly had granted my consent; Her Worth and Beauty had sufficient been T'ave rais'd her to the Title of a Queen. Did not my glorious Father, great Gonzal, Marry the Daughter of his Admiral? And I might to my Son have been as kind, As then my Father did my Grandsire find.

Org. You once believ'd that I had guilty been, And had the Punishment, but not the Sin; I suffer'd when 'twas thought I did aspire, And should by this have rais'd my crimes yet higher.

King. How did Philander take Erminia's death?

Gal. My own surprize and grief was so extream, I know not what effects it had in him; But this account of him, I'm forc'd to give, Since she is dead, I know he cannot live.

King. I'll know Philander's fate e'er I proceed; And if he die, Alcippus too shall bleed.

[Exeunt.



SCENE VIII. The Gallery.

Enter Falatius and Labree.

Fal. Wert thou never valiant, Labree?

Lab. Yes, Sir, before I serv'd you, and since too: I Am provok'd to give you proofs on't sometimes; For when I am angry I am a very Hector.

Fal. Ay, the Devil when a body's angry, but that's Not the Valour in mode; Men fight now a-days Without that, and even embrace whilst they draw Their Swords on one another.

Lab. Ay, Sir, those are Men that despise their lives.

Fal. Why, that's it, Labree, that I would learn to do, And which I fear, nothing but Poverty will make me do; Jove defend me from that experiment.

Enter Erminia veil'd with a thin Tiffany.

Lab. What's the matter, Sir? Does the fit take you now?

Fal. Save us, save us, from the Fiend.

Lab. A Ghost, a Ghost! O, O, O!

[They fall shaking on the ground.

Er. This was a happy mistake, Now I may pass with safety. [Ex.

Fal. Look up, Labree, if thou hast any of that Courage thou spakest of but now.

Lab. I dare not, Sir, experience yours I pray.

Fal. Alas, alas, I fear we are both rank Cowards.

Lab. Rise, Sir, 'tis gone.

Fal. This was worse than the fright Alcander put Me into by much.

[They rise and go out.



SCENE IX. Philander's Apartments.

Enter Philander and Cleontius.

Phi. I know he's fled to the Camp, For there he only can secure himself.

Cle. I do not think it, Sir. He's too brave to justify an Action Which was the Outrage only of his Passion, That soon will toil it self into a Calm, And then will grow considerate again, And hate the Rashness it provok'd him to.

Phi. That shall not serve his turn—go Tell him I'll get his Pardon of the King, And set him free from other fears of Justice, But those which I intend to execute. If he be brave, he'll not refuse this offer; If not, I'll do as he has done by me, And meet his hated Soul by Treachery. [Cle. goes out. —And then I've nothing more to do but die. —Ah, how agreeable are the thoughts of Death! How kindly do they entertain my Soul, And tell it pretty tales of Satisfaction in the other world, That I shall dwell for ever with Erminia?—but stay, That sacred Spirit yet is unreveng'd, —I'll send that Traitor's Soul to eternal Night, Then mine shall take its so desired Flight. [Going out.

Enter Erminia, calls him.

Er. Return, Philander, whither wouldst thou fly?

Phi. What Voice is that? [Turns, sees her, and is frighted.

Er. 'Tis I, my Prince, 'tis I.

Phi. Thou—Gods—what art thou—in that lovely shape?

Er. A Soul that from Elysium made escape, [As she comes towards him, he goes back in great amaze. To visit thee; why dost thou steal away? I'll not approach thee nearer than I may.

Phi. Why do I shake—it is Erminia's form— And can that Beauty ought that's ill adorn? —In every part Erminia does appear, And sure no Devil can inhabit there.

[He comes on and kneels, one knocks, she steals back in at a door.

Alcan. [Within.] My Lord the Prince!

Phi. Ha—Oh Gods, I charge thee not to vanish yet! I charge thee by those Powers thou dost obey, Not to deprive me of thy blessed sight.

Er. I will revisit thee. [Ex.

Enter Alcander.

Phi. I'm not content with that. —Stay, stay, my dear Erminia.

Alcan. What mean you, Sir? [He rises and looks still afrighted.

Phi. Alcander, look, look, how she glides away, Dost thou not see't?

Alcan. Nothing, Sir, not I.

Phi. No, now she's gone again.

Alcan. You are disorder'd, pray sit down a while.

Phi. No, not at all, Alcander; I'm my self, I was not in a Dream, nor in a Passion When she appear'd, her Face a little pale, But else my own Erminia, she her self, I mean a thing as like, nay, it spoke too, And I undaunted answer'd it again; But when you knockt it vanisht.