TO THE illustrious PRINCESS, MARY Duchess of RICHMOND and LENOX.  
Madam,  
I Humbly offer Your Grace the last sacrifice of this nature that is in my power, having only a hope that it may be received by You with that favour as when it was formerly presented. And so, Madam, I only dare to appear in an address to You, as others to their Altars, who by sacrifices get pardon for their defects, if not advance their devotions. This was to your Sex indeed a peculiar offering, whilst all either gave as much Passion to their Adorers, or wished their beauty's great enough to do it: your grace's excellencies alone have been by all admirers esteemed at so great and just a value, as to create, and not reward men's passions. This with as just a reverence I present to you, hoping for this Romantique passion such an entertainment as none durst expect for real ones; your severity would deny a reception to those, which your charity may grant to this: And believe, he that attempts all ways to express his respects and duty, has more than Fortune will give him leave to show, The unhappy condition at this time of  
MADAM, The most humble of all your grace's most obliged Servants, ALEX. GOUGHE.   

THE Names and Characters of the Persons.  

KIng of Burgony.  
Agenor  
Clarimant 

His sons.    
Cleon  
Senor  
Stremon 

Three Lords disaffected to the Prince Agenor.    
Lucidor, a Lord  
Clindor, a Captain 

Friends to Agenor.    
Merchant.  
Captain.  
Soldiers.  
Clorinda, the King's Niece.  
Selina, her Woman.  
King of Neustrea.  
Prince of Aquiain  
Two other Prince's 

Suitors to Austella.    
Lords  
A Druid.  
Sailors.  
Austella, the King's daughter.  
Olinda, her Sister.  
The Scenes 

BURGONY.  
NEUSTREA.      

THE Passionate Lover,  

FIRST PART.  

Act. 1. Scaen. 1.  Enter Lucidor, and Clindor, and a Captain, (severally.) Lucid. 
WEll met, Clindor.  Clind. 
I would it were so.  Lucid. 
Why, what misfortune is happened, man?  Clind. 
A pox on Fortune, she ne'er was friend of mine; And now the wars are at end, there's no way left For men of merit to supply themselves: But could I Catch that beldame by the foretop, I would so Lug her ladyship.  Lu. 
Thou mistakest,  
And threatnest Opportunity: 'tis she that hath  
A lock before, and bald behind; but Fortune is a  
Mighty Goddess, and must be reverenced.  Cl. 
A Quean, a Strumpet by this hand; and she you talk of  
Is her Bawd; they picked my pockets with a pair of  
Dice, giving the money to a Sot, that scarce knew  
How to tell it when he had won it.  Lu. 
That was ill luck.  Cl. 
To lose a months pay in a night, now when I'm  
Never like to see another muster, nor hope of booty loss  
O I could eat these fingers!  Lu. 
Lose not thy patience, and then thy moneys  
Will not afflict thee.  Cl. 
Pray will ye lend me 20 Crowns, and keep it for me.  Lu. 
Keep what?  Cl. 
My patience.  Lu. 
Thou hast none.  Cl. 
To what end then was your grave advice,  
My great Foolosopher! stand by.  Enter Senor and Stremon. Sen. 
Believe me, if the insolency of these Commanders  
That are come back with the Prince be not restrained,  
This Court, best ordered in the world,  
Will grow to Barbarism and shame our Nation,  
Chief us that should keep all in form.  Str. 
My Lord, take heed whilst you too much study  
A regularity, you not forget the proper time:  
The Court is yet a kind of Camp, a place of free access,  
In which the Prince is as the Sun,  
Whose cheerful rays give life to all.  Clind. 
wil't please your Lordship to buy a Virtue of me?  Sen. 
Sure I believe 'tis a very beggarly one.  Cl. 
Your Lordship's a witch; 'tis Patience indeed,  
The beggar's virtue; you shall have it for 20 crowns.  Sen. 
Sirrah, this sauciness may in time  
Procure you the beggar's punishment  
To exercise your virtue, A whip.  Clind. 
Hum, a whip!  Lu. 
Your lordship's reply was by much too harsh  
For harmless merriment, and argues you  
Of a proud dogged nature.  Sen. 
Pray teach not me to speak, my Lord,  
Until I go about to teach you how to fight.  Lu. 
I would your formal Lordship wore a sword,  
I should most gladly learn.  Sen: 
I do not want when I intent to wear one.  Lu. 
Certain you do, pray put it on against  
I see you next, let this remember you.  Pulls him by the nose. Sen. 
What insolence is this?  Clind. 
My Lord fight with him, or by this hand  
Ye have got my patience, and you shall pay me for't.  Sen. 
How now you base Rascal!  Enter Agenor, Cleon, and Attendants. Age. 
Who's that he calls so?  Lu. 
One sir, that I have seen do bravely in the wars.  Age. 
The attribute was very course:  
Sir, you must know those whom I call fellows  
in arms, and who for you and me, and all  
Have spent their bloods, must meet with better  
Recompense then contumelious words.  
'Tis such as you that buzz into my father's ears  
A thousands tales, contract his bounties into nothings●  
Or little to any soldier; and this not as good husbands  
For your master, but yourselves, that your shares  
May be greater.  Sen. 
I hope your Highness will on better knowledge  
Change this hard opinion.  Cle. 
I dare engage myself, your Highness  
May absolutely dispose my Lord.  Age. 
Since you esteem him as a friend, I should not  
Be displeased to have cause to believe it.  Cle. 
The occasion is only wanting, Sir.  Age. 
Well my Lord, if it prove so, I know how  
To reward those that serve me. Go Lucidor  
And inquire if my Father be ready yet.  Sen. 
If it please your Majesty, I shall.  Age. 
You forget, my Lord,  
That title is only due to my Father.  Clind. 
To whom he had so great a mind to make complaint,  
That he forgot himself.  Age. 
Let him complain: Those that are mine I will secure.  Clind. 
Who are not such, deserve not your protection.  Age. 
There, share that purse betwixt you; I'll go.  
Be to night at my chamber at 9 a clock: now leave us.  Clind. 
The Gods bless your Highness.  Lucid. 
What say you now to the old beldame, is she not kind?  (manent Age. Cleon. Clind. 
She durst do no other.  [Exeunt. Cleon. 
Sir, as I told you, upon my knowledge  
Your Father is possessed with a belief  
That your late victories and custom of commanding  
In the Army, hath made you quite forget  
How to obey; and Sir, to humble you, your greatest Captains  
Do receive daily affronts:  Age. 
My Captains! even myself do feel their injuries.  
My needful bounty's censured prodigality,  
My courtesy insinuations; and all  
What I have ever learned for good or commendable  
Turn to my prejudice: Nothing, I see,  
Can please my Father, or free me from suspicion,  
Unless I prove myself or base, or foolish.  Cleon. 
The present affairs, sir, of this Kingdom  
Call for a man both wise and valiant:  
Such I must say you are; nor is this needful truth  
Thus timely urged, to be esteemed a flattery,  
Though spoken to yourself. Your father, sir, was what you are;  
But now time and infirmities have brought him  
Near to what we truly might call dotage  
In a meaner man. And is it reasonable  
You should stand by an idle looker on,  
Whilst his weak or false councillors and he  
Make peace or war with foreign States,  
Dispose of government and Offices at home,  
Not on the best deserver, but the greatest briber,  
Or such a Lords particular friend or kinsman.  Age. 
Truth is, I do appear now at home of no  
esteem:  
Even those Princes lately made subject  
By my sweat and blood, no one of their Ambassadors  
Makes any particular address to me.  Cle. 
'Twere madness if they should,  
The certain way to miss their ends; no sir,  
Your younger brother Clarimant is the known  
Powerful Advocate for favours from the King;  
And for the Prince himself, and power,  
Are both laid prostrate at the feet  
Of his fair Cousin the Lady Clorinda.  Age. 
Does she not deserve to be obeyed?  Cle 
Doubtless no Virgin lives that equals her in merit:  
And yet 'tis possible the Prince may have  
Another end besides her personal worth,  
Which makes him court her.  Age. 
What end?  Cle. 
You know, sir, at least must needs have hear  
Her ancestors have been pretenders, to this Crown,  
And time hardly wears out the right of Princes.  Age. 
'Tis true, hardly where right;  
But a pretention not then prosperous,  
Neither lives but to shame the undertakers memory  
But were it otherwise in this particular,  
I durst trust my brother, indeed in any,  
For I know his love to me is firm.  Cle. 
Sir, 'tis a noble confidence in you,  
Nor would I seek to change that quiet peace  
That lodges in your mind, for a worse guest, suspicion  
But if I do not freely speak my fears,  
I shall be guilty of a treason to my Prince  
And friend. Your brother sir, fosters ambitious hopes  
And howsoe'er you slight Clorinda's title,  
That is their chiefest nourishment.  Age. 
It is impossible.  Cle. 
If I should tell you, some believe your father  
Holds what I have said, is conscious that he  
Does keep the Crown by wrong, and so would  
By a marriage set all straight; this would exact  
A greater faith than you, I know, can yet allow.  Age. 
'Tis true, for this implies my disinheriting  
The falsehood of my brother, nay something more  
Then this, which I may chance one day to tell you freely:  
But now I live kerbed in my person,  
Nay my thoughts penned up, when I would ease  
My heart by uttering them.  Cle. 
Enlarge yourself each way.  Age. 
Oh I must not  Cle. 
Then I will for you. My grief to see my Country  
Lose the advantage of your best of years  
For action, makes me speak plain and home,  
Though to the hazard of my head, if you mislike  
The council; nor will I put you upon danger,  
And not share it with you?  Age. 
What is't you mean? I am confident you love me.  Cle. 
As I do happiness, which is included  
In your knowledge of my faith and love.  Age. 
Speak then.  Cle. 
In short 'tis this:  
Propose a war in Germany, raise a great Army▪  
Live there a King, since here you cannot.  Age. 
My father never will consent.  Cle. 
Where's that soldier or Commander, will not obey  
Your summons?  Age. 
To raise an Army, my Father not allowing it,  
Were treason; which once proclaimed, would startle  
The most resolute.  Cle. 
Scarce a man, if you should on the contrary  
Make known what your intents were for your country's  
Honour and profit.  Age. 
But in the mean time should they seize my person?  Cle. 
But in the mean time should you seize your  
Father's person, which is sure much easier to do.  
There's but few Nations that adore the setting sun;  
The braver spirits do attend his rise,  
And hope to mount with him aloft.  Age. 
Though I confess I willingly would aid  
My father's feeble arm to hold the sceptre right,  
I would not force it from his hands.  Cle. 
Two hands upon one sceptre; men will interpret  
Violence; however since 'twas ordained in one,  
If violence at all, let it be powerful in effect:  
The happy issue than may change the attribute  
To providence care of the present & the future state:  Age. 
It is an affair of a high consequence,  
Pray see me in the morning, I must take time  
To think—  Exit. Cle. 
Do Prince, 'tis my desire, since thought  
Must make that poison work, I have distilled  
Into thy soul; the compounds are so strong  
And operative, that it must cause destruction  
To thyself, father, or brother, if not all.  
But soft; much time, and many dangers  
Must be past, ere I can hope to touch that happy  
Period; the part I long have acted  
Must be still maintained; a seeming faithful  
Servant to the father and his sons,  
By each believed so tender of their safeties  
And their honour, as if I had no sense  
Of what concerned the other two.  
The grounds thus laid, and mutual jealousies growing  
In each, I am secured from a discovery  
By any general conference of theirs:  
Nay, should an intimacy hold, as 'tis not like,  
Betwixt the brothers, yet am I still secure  
By their own nobleness, scorning to tell counsels  
The secrets of an Enemy, much less reveal these of a friend,  
Which when I do, I shall no other but myself betray;  
Friendship's an useful word, the substance thrown away.  Exit. Enter Clindor, Selina. Clind. 
Nay, Lady, if you fly, being so able to descend,  
〈◊〉 shall suspect you have an ambush here:  
I'll make good this ground, proud of my purchase;  
I know 'tis of such value, that the restoring  
Will press you to another parley.  Sel. 
Why think you so? To lose your company withal,  
Will make the loss of any thing I have about me insensible.  Clind. 
Make good your word; change but your maidenhead  
For this; and if I ever trouble you again—  Sel. 
O insolence! can you believe that such a jewel  
Is reserved for you? you may as well by your small  
Single valour hope to surprise the strongest fort.  Clind. 
Nay perhaps sooner, Lady; may be you  
Know the first impossible.  Sel. 
I know 'tis impossible you should be other  
Than a rude Soldier.  Clind. 
True, whilst you are an uncivil Lady,  
'Tis wisdom to frame ourselves like to the company  
We wish to keep.  Sel. 
Indeed I must confess you put upon me in this seeming  
Censure, a mighty obligation: your words imply as much,  
As if I would be wicked, you for conformity  
Would be so too; in troth I do not doubt it:  
But that you can as well conform yourself to better  
Images, is that I have no reason to believe.  Clind. 
From these your hard opinions, yet in a milder phrase  
Expressed, judge charitably, that my disrespect  
Is likewise lessening: And certain, Lady,  
So many beauties as show themselves about your  
Person, were gifts the Gods repent of,  
Which made them place a soul whose pride might tell the world  
It was a goodly Temple built to show their power,  
But not to share their adoration.  Sel: 
I see you are an experienced Soldier,  
And are not without stratagems, making your  
Battery on the weakest side. You praise the beauty  
Of my person, and dispraise my mind:  
That too for what we almost hold a virtue, (pride)  
Grant us but fair, whate'er we seem, it is  
Impossible we should be angry.  Clind. 
No more of these ingenious confessions, Lady,  
Lest I become Apostate from my old religion,  
And believe there may be other beauties in your sex  
Then what the eye surveys.  Sel. 
I am wondrous sorry if I have said any thing  
To gain your good opinion.  Enter Clarimant and Clorinda. Cli. 
O fear not, Lady, I am not so much taken yet  
To trouble you with lamentable verses,  
Or blow the candle out with sighs: breaking my buttons  
After a full meal, 's the highest I can reach to: I assure you,  
Methinks that Princely pattern is scarce worth  
The following. The King!  Enter Old King, Cleon, Senor, Stremon. O. K. 
I see you lose no opportunity to become  
Gracious with the Ladies, I like it well;  
Your brother's more unnatural, and courts the men.  Cle. 
The men of action, sir, he does indeed.  O. K: 
The men of turbulency and ambition:  
But I shall check his and their haughty spirits.  Cle: 
Let what you do, sir, be with moderation,  
He's of a fierce nature, and can ill endure  
Reproof, however just.  O. K. 
Fierce nature! shall I observe a boy?  
I am his father and his King; and what he fails  
In duty to the one, the other shall enforce him  
To confess and satisfy.  Cle. 
'Tis just indeed.  O. K. 
And being so, I mst not fear to let him know  
His faults.  [Enter Agenor and Lucidor 
Now sir, what would you with us?  Age. 
I must not hope, sir, you will grant the suit  
I come to move, until I see your brow more calm▪  O. K. 
If you mislike these looks, remove the cause.  Age. 
Perhaps it is not, sir, in me, but in yourself:  
There are some waters where the billows rise  
Though no cross winds do blow; Earthquakes are in  
Another kind the same, the causes dark,  
And yet not more than are your groundless distastes  
From whence this tempest grows.  O. K. 
Your words explain your actions, and your actions them:  
From both you do conclude my weakness,  
And your innocence from fault.  Age. 
The latter is, and still hath been my study:  
Show me wherein, sir, I have erred,  
In what I have deserved your hard opinion:  
Till when I would not, sir, by ask pardon  
Create a guilt.  O. K. 
I know you rather do expect that I should sue to you,  
And I will do it. Pray give me leave to be  
A King some few years more; you know  
I shall not trouble you when your turn comes.  Clorind. 
Dear servant, I find myself not well.  Clari. 
Heaven forbidden!  Exeunt Clor. Clari. Age. 
Sir, I do find your age is wrought upon  
By some unworthy men, who for their own ends  
Keep me from that interest nature and reason  
Ought to yield me in your love; which since  
I cannot hope from you by my true service,  
(Still misinterpreted) I scorn to seek  
To gain it by a flattery of them.  O. K. 
I know those whom I favour,  
Are for that cause the objects of your hate.  
And 'tis not strange, that having forfeited  
Much of your own obedience, you should mislike  
Their faithfulness.  Age. 
I see, sir, 'tis in vain to plead a cause  
Already judged against me: Cunning  
Weighs down my interest in your blood.  
I came, sir, with a hope to obtain some suits  
For others, which now reason commands me to let fall,  
And rather beg what I am only likely to obtain.  O. K. 
What's that, I pray?  Age. 
Your leave sir, to retire  
Myself, to free your Majesty  
And me both from disturbance.  O. K. 
You ask and grant yourself, 'tis well.  Exeunt Agen. Lucid. Clind. Cle. 
Sir, that retirement he intends,  
Grows not from duty, but ambition.  
Out of that cloud ere long he means to break  
Forth gloriously; the world, sir, cannot admit  
More than one Sun; and he's resolved to shine,  
Though nature suffer in it.  O. K. 
It was still my fear, you have no other proofs  
But your conjecture.  Cleon. 
I would I had not, sir; but such my love is to your Majesty.  
That to preserve the Royal stem, I must not fear  
To hazard breaking a corrupted branch.  
At more convenience I shall inform you.  Exeunt King, Cleon, Attendants. Sen. 
The King is old and sickly, inconstant by nature;  
And we must, whilst this heat of passion lasts,  
Work for our safety by the Prince's ruin.  
If he should come to reign, our power, if not our, lives,  
Is at end; but both are likely to be safe  
And prosperous under his brother Clarimant,  
Who is of a soft and gentle nature,  
Apt to be governed.  Stre. 
Especially when it shall appear  
We have both will and power to serve him  
In attaining to the Crown.  Senor. 
Perhaps Lord Cleon does resolve the same,  
And he's man of power and blood; we being joined  
How can we miss our end,  
Since the whole Court does on us three depend?  Exeunt. Enter Clarimant and Clorinda: Clar. 
Dear Lady, do not welcome sadness thus:  
Trust me, it is an ill mannered guest,  
And seldom leaves us; though we grow weary  
Of its company, and wish it gone.  Clor. 
Not be sensible when there is cause,  
Would show stupidity.  Clar. 
Wife men affirm there is no cause of sorrow  
But for offending heaven.  Clor. 
These strengths of mind you Men enjoy,  
Are certain to our weaker sex denied.  Clar. 
Alas, but I am none of those;  
For if you grieve, I cannot be exempted.  Clor. 
Would I had kept my troubles to myself then!  
I would not have them grow by being guilty  
Of infecting you.  Clar. 
A sympathy with you for what concerns myself,  
Though it be grief to me, is pleasing.  Clor. 
I must not say so much for you;  
And yet this is the only time I ever wished  
Your absence: pray sir be pleased to leave me  
To myself.  Cla. 
And 'tis the only time I ever durst seem  
Disobedient; be but yourself, and I will leave you  
But whilst you are in bondage,  
A prisoner to your grief, I must not.  Clo. 
Ye are cruel in you kindness, sir,  
And tie me faster: A ransom of my tears  
Being plentifully paid, perhaps may free me;  
And whilst you stay, shame bars me from the trial.  Cla. 
I would not see you weep; for if your tears  
Were shed in vain, it would call in question  
My religion, as having paid my vows  
To powers insensible.  Clo. 
Take heed, sweet Prince, you do not jest yourself  
Into idolatry, and overact that part you personate,  
To please a brother; that were a guilt  
Neither your tears not mine can expiate,  Cla. 
I fear your warning comes too late for me.  Clo. 
I hope I understand you not.  Cla. 
You do not Lady, nor I myself,  
For I have spoke I know not what: shame forces  
An obedience, which your commands could not.  
All peace of mind wait on you.  Enter Agenor. 
Stay brother, whither so fast? I came to seek you,  
Stay—  Cla. 
Not for the world, and pray henceforth  
Let us not injure truth.  Exit. Age. 
What means this?  Clo. 
My Lord, I know not well, some discontent.  Age. 
Are we alone? is there no other eye but that of  
Heaven beholds us?  Clo. 
None that I know.  Age. 
Blessed opportunity! still I am fearful; for your sake  
I would not have our loves discovered now by chance  
Which with such art and care hath been so long  
Concealed from all men but my brother.  Clo. 
I would it had been so from him too, sir:  Age. 
Why do you fear he will discover us?  Clo. 
O no sir, but—  Age. 
But what?  Clo. 
The gods were witness enough for me, sir,  
'Twere my glory, were it known; if in your fortune  
But a slave, I should with joy proclaim to all  
The world what your interest were in me:  
But for your sake, considering how you father  
Frowns already, I scarce dare to myself  
Whisper the joy of being yours.  Age. 
My father! let not that trouble you,  
We will be free as he ere long, and our commands  
Better obeyed.  Clo. 
O speak not again my fears! how sir? better obeyed!  Age. 
By those that love me, and will live and die with me.  Clo. 
Die with you, sir! why should that come in question?  Age. 
Only as an expression of my friend's affection.  Clo. 
But sir, were all men what they seem,  
That which I fear you do intent, is that  
Which heaven cannot approve; take heed of disobedience, sir.  Age. 
Why dost thou plead against thyself, against thy joys  
And mine? Now as I am, I dare not look on these  
Bright eyes, the comforts of my life, nor touch this hand,  
These lips, not speak but by the assistance  
Of my brother.  Clo. 
This is a freedom, sir, modesty could not allow  
Did we oft meet; and as it is, do not again  
Expect it.  Age. 
Why, dearest, are you so nice? you do not love me:  
Your hand you will not sure refuse me.  Clo. 
I shall, sir, if you presume upon an opportunity▪  Age. 
You never did deny that favour to my brother  
As my substitute.  Clo. 
It is confessed, and that in public too,  
More willingly I there would grant him any modest  
Favor, than here to you in private.  Age. 
That's strange.  Clo. 
Do we not often give those praises to a person  
Absent, which modesty would make us blush  
To speak unto himself?  Age. 
It seems I must be only favoured by attorney▪  Clo. 
Not so; the mind being the noblest part,  
Is't not enough if that be happy?  Age. 
Yes, if it could subsist without a body:  
Which since it cannot, dearest mistress, if you'll be just,  
The beauties of your person must in some measure  
Satisfy the flames that they create.  Offers to kiss her. Clo. 
Sir, I believe you will not think 'tis a forced modesty  
That I put on; though I should tell you I am not pleased  
At all to be alone with you, yet how much  
I do love you, it were in vain to speak.  
That love enjoins, as you will keep your faith  
To me, not to disturb the quiet of your Father  
And this Kingdom, likely to be yours;  
Do not expect to find them faithful in the time  
To come, to whom you shall teach falsehood  
By your own example.  Age. 
Happily I have no such design; we are ingrate  
To fortune and to Love, in spending this happy  
Opportunity on any other subject  
Then what may tend unto his glory.  Clo. 
I see, Sir, I must leave you, or my modesty.  Age. 
Dear do not frown; pardon those faults  
Your beauties and my love engage me in.  Clo. 
Should I grant that for an excuse sufficient,  
Where should we find a guilty or immodest person,  
Since all immoderate desires do find a beauty  
In their object, which promises a pleasure  
By enjoying? My love then yours is of a purer  
Kind, and fit it should, as growing from  
A nobler cause, your greater merit:  
Be witness heaven, I never yielded yet  
To any thought or motion, wherein your happiness  
Had not precedence.  Age. 
Should I pretend to what you do appropriate,  
The greatest love, 'twould show presumption.  
Yet here I offer what you dare not perform  
To me, a free unlimited disposing  
Of my person and my will.  Clo. 
I take you at your word; and though your  
Humble servant, as a Mistress do impose  
These two commands: Be modest in your love,  
And patiented in your expectation of a Crown;  
Let all things be mature and ripened to perfection,  
Then they are sweet and lovely; but on the  
Contrary, many infirmities accompany  
Abortive births, seldom or never lasting.  She offers to go away: Age. 
Sure you will not leave me thus.  Clo. 
Yes sir, I must,  
The greatness of my love commands me,  
Remember your promise.  Age. 
You do express it strangely;  
Would you stay longer, if you loved me less?  Clo. 
With much more confidence. I tremble, sir, lest  
Some unwelcome person should find us here  
Alone; if there were company with whom you  
Might discourse, I should stand by and hear you  
With delight, look on you with much more:  
Now apprehension of discovery takes away  
All pleasure from me.  Age. 
If we must ever live with this constraint upon us,  
Where are the joys of love? It rests not sure  
Alone in being beloved, but in possession.  
He that despairs in love, hath a more happy fate  
Than I: You do not love me sure; what have I  
More than words to build my faith upon?  
If you have pity in you, be more kind,  
Or free me from my last engagement.  Clo. 
Not for a million.  Age. 
Trust me, I shall not hold myself sufficiently  
Obliged, unless I seal my promise on your lip.  Clo. 
He that will break his word, no other tie  
Can hold him.  Age. 
Yet never any fearful Creditor  
(Such you appear to be) refused an Obligation.  Clo. 
This is the last you ever as a Mistress  
Shall receive from me.  Age. 
May your last words prove happily prophetic!  Clo. 
Think on your promise, sir.  Exit. Age. 
I do; so sweet was the engagement,  
That whilst I think on it, even than  
It prompts me to the breaking, the only way  
For to attain a greater bliss in her. Promises  
Made in prejudice of Love, I should be most profane  
To keep; nor can she be offended, however fear  
And modesty in her forbade me to attempt.  
Power, and her dear Embraces, are alike  
The objects of my soul: shall danger then make me retire?  
No, danger thrusts me on, and tells me there's no safety  
But in arms, which well employed, cancels my fault  
Unto my father, and smooths Clorinda's brow:  
She cannot be so cruel to herself to frown  
On disobedience that presents a Crown.  Exit:  

Act. 2. Scaen. 1.  Enter Clarimant. Clar. 
O Fool! for ever thou hast forfeited thy bliss,  
She never will endure to hear thee speak,  
Or look upon her more. What falsehood  
must she think me guilty of? I am so sensible  
Of my offence, that though she would admit me,  
●durst never see her more: How poor a value than  
Bears life!  Enter Agenor with a Picture. 
Brother!  Clar▪ 
Ha!  Age. 
How strangely you are altered!  Clar. 
You do not err sir, I was not wont to be thus sad.  Age. 
Nor do I hope you will continue long so;  
Your grief may prove infectious, pray shake it off,  
You shall not else keep company with my Clorinda.  Clar. 
I never will, sir.  Age. 
How, brother?  Clar. 
This sadness will not leave me.  Age. 
Come, by all our interests I conjure you  
speak freely what troubles you.  Clar. 
Then sir, in short, you have undone me.  Age. 
I! dearest brother.  Clar. 
Yes, you: Did you not enjoin  
that I should make in public address to your Mistress,  
〈◊〉 which received opinion you might be freer  
〈◊〉 your love?  Age. 
Had you engaged me in the like,  
I should with joy have done it.  Clar. 
My care was such to do it to the life,  
That I am really become what I did personate;  
Are not you then the cause that I am miserable?  Age. 
What do I hear! can there be truth in this  
If it be so, speak it again.  Cla. 
'Tis that I never must deny,  
I love her more than I do life.  Age. 
Or faith, or honour, do you not?  Cla. 
Sure I believe nothing with her can stand in competion long.  
Yet I will never see her more.  Age. 
It is not fit you should. What do I feel  
Can the mere name of Rival trouble me?  
Yes, with the addition that he is my brother.  
But whither am I falling? Assist me Reason,  
Let me but weigh my Mistresses unequalled beauty  
And her greater merit, and that must prove  
Both his excuse, and my assurance.  Cla. 
I fear, sir, you are angry; Not that I value  
Any danger, but that I would not have you so unjust  Age. 
Trust me I am not, brother,  
I will admit you as a friendly Rival:  
Make her inconstant once, and I shall gladly quit her.  Cla. 
Had you so mean a thought of her or me,  
It were an injury I could not suffer.  Age. 
Come, come, upon my life I have not.  
Some business, brother, of the highest importance  
Commands me from you, perhaps from Court ere long.  
And that I may assure you of my love and trust,  
Carry from me this Picture to my dearest Mistress.  Clar. 
Sir, I beseech you pardon me; I would not see her  
When I may avoid it; there's too much danger  
In the object.  Age. 
Remember she's your brother's Mistress, that will protect you.  Cla. 
I never did forget, pray send it by some other.  [Offers the Picture back.] Age. 
I shall believe you do indeed intent to woo  
My mistress from me, since you refuse to appear to her  
My friend and messenger.  Cla. 
Sir, I will do it; but henceforth never misdoubt  
The strengths you hold upon me; for I in it  
Do break a resolution equal to a vow.  Age. 
Farewell.  Exit. Clar. 
How hard a fate is mine! to what cross actions  
doth our passions move? I fly from what I wish;  
Yet to assist another's flame, I grant what  
so my own I had denied. Oh no, it is not thus;  
for every action rightly weighed, it will be found,  
Our own advantage is the proper centre  
Where all lines meet: For if I apprehended apprehended  
a discontent from seeing her, I should not sure  
have yielded to the enforcement of my brother.  
No, 'tis with me as with those men who are  
by nature strongly tempted to some lust,  
Pleased in the sin, yet grant no guilt,  
Only alleging for excuse, They must.  Exit. Enter Cleon and Selina. Cle. 
Sweet Selina, it is not now that I shall need  
to make a declaration of my love,  
you long have known the engagement of my heart.  Sel. 
My Lord, my obligations are so great,  
that you may justly claim the utmost of my power  
toward the accomplishment of your desires.  Cle. 
I have been too unthankful to so true a friend;  
But be assured that thou shalt have my best  
Of fortunes with me; in the mean time wear this  
To keep me in thy memory.  Sel. 
It needs not sir, I have already too many test●●moni●  
Of your favour, to forget.  Cle. 
When was Prince Clarimant with thy Lady  Sel. 
When was he not? I fear, sir, her affection  
To him is so rooted, that it will grow for ever.  
Yet I have used those arts you taught me,  
And some female practices of mine, but all in vain.  
But sir, despair not, since as yet you never  
Did make known your love to her; and were she  
My mind, she soon would make a difference  
Betwixt a boy, a child, and such a man as you.  Cle. 
Friendship doth blind thee, more than love does me:  
The frost I wear upon my locks, will keep  
My fire from kindling in her breast;  
Whilst equal youth and beauty in the Prince  
Gives nourishment unto a mutual flame.  Sel. 
I hope it will—  [Aside] Cle. 
Yet prithee say that I would speak with her,  
And have a care none overhear our conference.  Sel. 
My Lord, I shall endeavour it; she's now 〈◊〉 the garden.  Exit. Sel Cle. 
It is not love alone unto the Princess person  
I know I cannot be so faithless to my own designs,  
No, 'tis her interest to the Crown engages me  
As much as does her beauty or her wit:  
And yet she holds by those, when I do see,  
Or hear her speak, great power upon me.  
But I must watch my flame, no spark let fall  
That may give any light of my affection to her,  
In a third person I must try her,  
Since she's of humane race, a woman to her mother  
Whether from her be not derived some seeds  
Of the first female weaknesses, ambition and  
Inconstancy; which if I find, I'll nourish them,  
And in their growth my hopes; but if I see  
Such powerful charm no alteration move,  
She claims my adoration, cures my love.  [Enter Clorinda, Selina.] 
She comes, be firm my resolution,  
The splendour of her eyes is powerful; already  
My designs meet with confusion: Love gives the lie  
To my ambition, triumphs o'er my discretion,  
And tells me that a Crown's an airy nothing  
Compared with the possessing of her personal  
Beauty: what wonders will the magic of  
Her tongue perform?  Clo. 
What means this?  Cle. 
'Tis best I should at once profess my love,  
And in her scorn receive a glorious death—  
Stay, let me be a King first; and then to offer  
Up myself to my great Deity,  
Brings no dishonour to her shrine.  Clo. 
My Lord, did you not desire to speak with me?  Cle. 
Madam, I did; and the affair is of such weight,  
That though I had consulted with myself before,  
I durst not utter it without a second thought,  
And none but your dear self to hear it.  Clo. 
Leave us.  Exit Selina: Cle. 
Madam, amongst those many whom your perfections  
Have devoted to your service, though not so happy  
As with others to express my zeal,  
There's none, without exception I dare speak it,  
Would sooner undertake, or hazard more to serve you.  
This if you can believe, I dare enlarge myself:  
If not, I must be satisfied with this expression.  Clo. 
My Lord, if I be not mistaken, you are a friend  
To those whom all know I do value highly; that,  
Were I ignorant of your own worth,  
Is argument enough for my esteem and trust.  Cle. 
I here do call the Gods to witness,  
That all my study, all my friendship tends to your advantage:  
Nor is the Prince at all considerable to me,  
But as he is your servant; but for your sake  
I wish he were the the Monarch of the world.  
For, how so much perfection can be ordained  
To bless a Subjects bed, comes not within  
The compass of my faith; and Prince Clarimant  
Is never like to be a King.  Clo. 
To what tends this?  Cle. 
But had your love been placed upon his brother  
As his is upon you, ere long your beauties  
Might have found their proper foil, a Crown,  
To set them off as a bright constellation, there  
All eyes might look on you with wonder  
And delight; but in a Subjects name, your glory  
Are obscured.  Clo. 
Either the Prince, as being his friend,  
Hath made discovery to him of our loves,  
Or he hath found cause to suspect.  Cle. 
Madam, I see what I have spoke, begets your trouble.  Clo. 
I must confess it, sir; can it do less,  
When I shall hear a person of your merit,  
A friend as you profess, persuading me  
To quit my faith for the vain expectation  
Of a Crown.  Cle. 
Madam, the Crown will soon be his, as certain  
As he loves you, and both as certain as I live.  Clo. 
It is impossible that Prince Agenor he should love,  
And never speak his passion.  Cle. 
No more than it was in me.  Clo. 
How sir, in you?  Cle. 
Madam, I will confess a secret to you,  
I burn with a more zealous consuming fire  
Then ever yet was kindled in a mortals breast;  
Have often seen my Mistress, spoke to her,  
Had opportunities alone, as now with you:  
Yet such was my respect to her, I never durst  
Express my passion▪ Then, Madam, from the purity  
Of my affection, judge of the Prince,  
And reward his sufferings.  Clo. 
I must try him; Can this be possible?  Cle. 
jove strike me with his thunder,  
If what I now have said, be not a truth:  Clo. 
My Lord, if it be thus, I shall at least find pity  
For his sufferings: my best of wishes too  
For your success in love.  Cle. 
Would you be pleased, when I shall let you know  
Her name, to be my advocate? I cannot doubt  
My happiness.  Clo. 
Sure he means me.— Alas, my Lord, what you desire  
I should perform for any worthy person,  
Much more for you, since what I shall persuade  
Must tend for certain to her happiness.  Cle. 
Can I ask more? she courts me to discover.  Enter Selina. 
Divinest Lady,  
The Prince your servant desires admittance.  Cle. 
Hell take him! Madam, be pleased to grant me  
The honour of your hand as an assurance  
Of your promised favour.  Clo. 
If you believe I have the power to serve you  
In your love, name but the time and person,  
I am ready to assist you, were it this minute.  Cle. 
I should too much presume upon your favor  
The Prince your servant being so near attending.  Clo. 
Do not mistake sir, he may stay.  Cle. 
Why am I fearful? dare I believe myself 〈◊〉 happy,  
That you would miss the Prince's company a minute  
To pleasure me?  Clo. 
Yes by my life, two minutes; nor is't in 〈◊〉  
Mere curiosity to know the loves of others,  
But that I hold myself obliged not longer  
To be ignorant of one whose worth and beauty  
Hath the force to add your conquest to love's triumph  
Yours who have been still observed victorious  
In the subduing every other passion.  
To force an inclination, is an act of power,  
Where every common beauty can subdue the amorous.  Cle. 
Not to have yielded homage here, had been a flat  
Rebellion, since all hearts are a tribute due  
To her perfections; which justice will enforce you  
To confess, when you know how much she doth  
Resemble you.  Clo. 
'Tis plain he loves, rather would have me think so,  
My Lord, your last words give me cause to doubt,  
Not so much your attaining, as the over-value  
Of the purchase; and that I may not have a less esteem  
Of you, I must confess I do not wish to know her now.  Enter Selina and Clarimant. Sel. 
Madam, the Prince!  Cle. 
How shall I understand this dark Enigma?  
Hope, or despair? 'tis time must clear it.  
Sir, I presume to have that interest in you,  
You will not be offended at your stay.  
For the injury, name your own satisfaction.  Clar. 
So kind,  
Madam, to me who have no other merit  
But obedience, how can there be an injury?  Clo. 
In this unjust acknowledgement, much modesty appears:  
How winning must your words and actions be,  
When they are accompanied with truth?  Clar. 
That only must be truth with me,  
Which you are pleased to have so; I will not own  
A faculty that prompts me to a contradiction:  
Yet never could I yield to my own praise,  
But as I am dignified in being your creature.  Clo. 
In being so absolutely mine, you make me richer  
In my own esteem, than all additions which the world  
Can yield besides.  Cle. 
This Lady can dissemble; but with whom she does so,  
I am yet to learn. It is not fit I should disturb  
This harmony; the God of love is hover  
Not far off, delighted with the music  
Of these melting accents: For I, a professed opposite  
To all his sweetness, have forfeited my manners by my stay.  Clor. 
Not so, my Lord; the excess of kindness  
I have showed Prince Clarimant,  
Must clear all suspicion in this Lord,  
If he had any, that I love Agenor.  Cle. 
Sir, be happy in this Princess to my wish,  
Which hath a latitude as great as you can  
Think. Your Father by my means (if I may boast  
A service to my Princely friend) highly approves  
The match.—  
All happiness attend you both.  Exit. Clar. 
How fortune mocks me!  Clo. 
Struck with a sudden sadness, sir!  Selina, Ex. Sel. 
Call for my servants, I'll go to Court,  
Have you any service to command me, sir?  Clar: 
Madam, I see you fain would change the Scene:  
How soon are you weary of his company,  
To whom just now you did profess so much?  Clo. 
Not weary, sir, but yet I hope  
That you have not forgot to whom  
All those professions were intended.  Clar. 
Yet they were spoke to me, the words accompanied  
With proper accents, your eyes, to speak love's language;  
And here before Lord Cleon with more persuasive  
Eloquence then ever.  Clo: 
'Tis true, it makes me almost blush to think  
How much I courted you: Heaven knows  
I could not for the world have spoke  
Or looked so on your brother; the reason was,  
I feared that Cleon did suspect whom I did  
Love indeed.  Clar. 
And you to cousin him, used me so over-kindly,  
At first I doubt not but you laid the plot  
Of thus disguising your affection.  Clo. 
You speak as if you did repent the obligation  
You have laid upon your brother and myself.  Clar. 
Do you esteem it one?  Clo. 
A great one, sir, believe.  Clar. 
Heaven knows I not repent it then;  
But can you think that when you look and speak  
With passion, whoever hears must not be moved,  
And in despite of duty wish  
Though dare not hope, that he were the object  
Of that passion:  Clo. 
Oh misery!  Clar. 
How could I then, to whom they were addressed,  
Having withal a sympathy of blood,  
But find joy as a brother, at first no more,  
Which warranted for just, at last that pleasure  
Ere I was ware betrayed to me a deeper  
And more peculiar sense of happiness in you.  Clo. 
Add not that vanity unto your falsehood,  
To hope from me a common estimation after this.  Clar. 
Add not injustice to your cruelty,  
To hate where you should pity: The injunction  
Did proceed from you, you are the first  
And the immediate cause that I am miserable:  
Which makes me often doubt, since it proceeds from you,  
Whether it be a crime or no. When I shall find it  
Such, you shall not need to frown or threaten  
Punishment by hating me, once confident you do,  
Without a cause I know you cannot;  
I will inflict more, then happily you will wish  
I should.  Clo. 
The Judge and the accused so near allied,  
As we are to ourselves, no crime is great enough  
For punishment.  Clar. 
Madam, you much mistake; I cannot be the Judge.  
That am am the Plaintiff: for who does, at least justly  
Can complain of injury but I? How is my love,  
Since a requital is not in my wish, a wrong  
To you or to my brother?  Clo. 
No! why did you by complaining  
Make me know your passion?  Clar. 
Now you have named my guilt,  
Alas I find I have too much approved that law  
Which says, no man is bound to be his own accuser.  
You are the proper Judge, truth speaks in you,  
Let your severest censure fall, and by the Gods  
I am your faithful Executioner.  Clo. 
Then—  Clar. 
Stay, first receive this Picture of my happy Brother,  
Sent from himself, the occasion of your trouble,  
Now, I speak not this in my excuse,  
To raise your pity up against your justice;  
For I at last was pleased in the employment.  
Nay, now profess to you and all the world,  
Whilst I have life, I shall adore you.  Clo. 
And must I sentence you then,  
Like to a desperate person that hath done  
Some wickedness so great, for which the happiness  
Of sorrow is denied.  Clar. 
You must for what concerns my loving you.  Clo. 
Then hear a sentence proper to the guilt:  
Your eyes and tongue, which did betray your virtue,  
Must never meet in me their objects more.  Clar. 
Misery! never to look or speak to you,  
Is that my doom?  Clo. 
It is justly inflicted.  Clar. 
I not dispute; but shall it never be revoked?  Clo. 
It is from me inviolate by all the Gods;  
You may to morrow break it, and I look you should.  Clar. 
I must confess, what ere I do resolve,  
'Tis not unlike I should.  Clo. 
I thought no less.  [She offers to go] Clar. 
But Madam, I will never see to morrow,  
Death is more welcome then to disobey you.  Clo. 
Hold sir.  Clar. 
How long?  Clo. 
Sure you are not in earnest.  Clar. 
Not in earnest! death could have brought no pain  
like this; I see I did so well dissemble once,  
That I am thought to do so still.  
This is an injury so great, it frees me  
From disobedience.  Offers his sword again upon himself: Clo. 
Oh hold, as you do love me.  Clar. 
As you do hate me, let me die.  Clo. 
No, you mistake,  
Or would by death frustrate your punishment.  
If you were dead, no longer should remain  
The sense of your offence, or my just hatred  
For it: Live to be sorry, that way expiate  
Your guilt, I do not say your punishment.  
But if you kill yourself on this occasion,  
Making me accessary to your murder,  
I call the Gods to witness I will revenge it  
By making you like guilty of your brother's death,  
For I will never see him more: how horrid  
Should I look dressed in a scarlet robe  
died in your blood.  Clar. 
All these are trifles, whilst your (just)  
Yet most hard sentence rests upon me,  
Never to see you more.  Clo. 
Would virtue could permit to make your noble sufferings less:  
Your love might be received, and yet your person  
Never gain access.  [Exeunt.] Clar. 
O cruel pity!  Enter Cleon with a Letter and Papers. Cle. reads. 
Meet me with all the forces you can  
Raise, at Lassent on the frontiers of Germany; the  
Employment you then shall know.  
— As I could wish.  [Enter Old King.] 
You Powers, why should I be thought a person  
Capable of his temptation? but there's no help,  
He that hath lost his own virtue, may well expect  
To make another false. The Rocks, whose constancy  
Denies an entrance to the beating waves,  
Though they want motion, yet in their firmness  
Seem to take revenge by casting the attempting  
Billows with dispersed drops upon the movers  
Face: So though all motion be denied  
Against the person of the Prince, from reverence  
To the Father, yet here I may revenge  
My injuries, and manifest the vanity of his design  
In this dispersion.  [Tears the Letter] O. K. 
Hold, hold, why do you tear the paper?  [He takes up some.] Cle. 
What do you mean sir? 'twas but a trivial Note,  
Howe'er the impertinency of the Sender  
Moved me.  O. K. 
A trivial Note! can thy faith stile that so,  
Wherein my safety is concerned?  Cle. 
How sir, your safety!  O. K. 
Come, come, dissemble not; we will be both revenged.  Cle. 
Revenged, on whom?  O. K. 
On my false Son: No more I say,  
For know, your tenderness hath trenched upon your faith,  
I must know every circumstance,  
Dare not hid it from me:  Cle. 
Remember, sir, he is your son, your heir,  
A Prince in whom your people's hopes and joys are fixed:  
Lay these close to your heart to move your pity;  
And than what my unhappy memory contains  
Of what was writ.  O. K. 
Nay, if a councillor suspect his memory,  
His Prince's safety at the stake, 'tis fit he trust  
His own care, I'll gather these.  Gathers the papers. Cle. 
Your pardon, Royal sir; you shall know every  
Circumstance: but sir, remember still  
How dear your son is to your people,  
Lose not their love by cruelty to him.  O. K: 
Not dearer sure to them than you.  Cle. 
Nay, than this be my witness of the contrary—  
So, read, till it kill all nature in thee,  
And corrupt thy brain,  
such loss to him must prove my greatest gain.  Exeunt.  

Act. 3. Scaen. 1.  Enter Agenor (with a Paper) Lucidor: Age. 
ALl these you say are ready.  Lu. 
All on my knowledge; there's no other fear,  
but that your troops will be too full. Might I have  
given advice, ere this you had been gone;  
here's danger in your stay, so many flock hither  
from the Court, your house is no way able  
to contain them, and some no doubt that come  
〈◊〉 Spies.  Age. 
To morrow early I'll be gone, I must this night  
Bid farewell to my dearest Mistress.— Now.  Enter Clindor. 
O sir, I have rid; my horse fell dead just at the door▪  
You are betrayed, sir, proclaimed a Traitor,  
Your father's Guard I overtook.  Age. 
Where?  Clind. 
By this time they are at the gates.  Lucid. 
O heavens! my fears are fallen upon us.  Age. 
What's to be done?  Clind. 
Let us make good the gates against them▪  Age. 
There's none dares touch my person.  Lucid. 
Believe it not sir, there is no safety:  
Your father's jealousies are wrought to a strange  
Height, and those whom you least suspect  
I fear conspire your ruin, to advance  
Your brother to the Crown.  Age. 
Who do you mean?  Lucid. 
Lord Cleon.  Age. 
It is impossible.  Clind. 
I saw Prince Clarimant and him together  
And Cleon's words were to the Captain of the guard  
Bring him alive or dead.  Lucid. 
Sir, be advised, there is no safety  
In the Kingdom for you, until this storm blow over▪  Age. 
What, shall I fly?  Lucid. 
Rather than fall. I know there's thousands  
Will live and die with with you, but here they are not.  Enter Lord. 
The Guard, Sir, do approach the house on every side  Clind. 
Make sure the gates.  Lucid. 
That will not do't; fire soon will open them.  
— Down with them, Fire the gates,  Within a crying: Lucid. 
Hark!  Age. 
Let's force our passage through them. [They clash their swords within.]  Exeunt. Enter Clindor, and four Guard. Clind. 
My friends, this care is needless; why do you hold me? I am not mad.  I. 
Mad, sir, we do not think it.  Clind. 
Nor can I swim, I do assure you.  I. 
What then?  Clind. 
Then you are sure I cannot scape your hands, as the Prince did.  I. 
No sir, we'll look to you for that: Bring him away before the King.  Clind. 
Before the King! of what will you accuse me?  I. 
For being accessary of the Prince's flight.  Cl. 
O 'tis well, then we'll even hang for company.  I. 
For company!  Cl. 
Even so, if I be accessary, you let him scape.  I. 
Why, could we help it, when he leapt into the river?  Cl. 
Had your Zeal been so hot to serve the King, as you do now make show of, You would have dowsed in over head and ears.  2. 
What, drown ourselves?  Cl. 
Yes, any thing in zeal: My zeal to justice shall hang all you and myself Too, for in my conscience we deserve it; what, shrink for a little water?  I. 
He tells us true, our fault will be esteemed as great as his.  Cl. 
Come, come along my friends, we must before the King.  I. 
Very pretty.  Clind. 
You will not find so, when my most noble  
Lord Cleon shall with the King  
Judge of your actions.  I. 
Well Captain, we acquit you; I find indeed  
We should be fools to accuse each other.  Clind. 
Speak for yourselves, etc.  Enter Old King, Clarimant, Cleon. O. K. 
Urge nought in his excuse, he's a boy Traitor,  
And he shall know his birth is no excuse  
For disobedience.  Clar. 
Sir, I dare pawn my life, my brother never did  
Nor does intent ill to your Royal person.  O. K. 
If it were so, am not I wounded in my Ministers?  [Enter Capt.] 
This natural tenderness of thine, a Brothers,  
Condemns him most unnatural to me a Father.  
Now speak, is the Traitor coming to assault us?  Capt. 
No sir, but he is scaped our hands.  Cle. 
How? Scaped!  Capt. 
He resolutely made his passage through us  
And we pursuing to take him, he with Lucidor  
Leapt into the river, and swum to a small pinnace  
Of his own, that always lay there for his  
Pleasure, in which they are put to sea.  Cle. 
With all speed make to the shore, and see what course  
They hold: if he sir in despair should go into New●stre●  
With whose King you now have difference  
About the staying of your ships of treasure,  
And the Isle of Cires; no doubt much danger  
Threatens yourself and State; to prevent which,  
Strait raise an Army, and make Prince Clarimant  
Your General, that being in readiness,  
You may prevent any attempt Agenor  
Or the enemy can make against you.  O. K. 
Be all things ordered by thy faith and judgement,  
Thy care must be my preservation,  
I do commit all power into thy hands:  
Harken to him, my dearest Clarimant,  
In what he shall advise thee; my age  
And griefs, I find, will quickly wear me out.  
I'll to my chamber: Give order, careful,  
Faithful Cleon.  Exeunt King, Clar▪ and others. Cle. 
Yes, I shall be careful to take order,  
An order with you all, Father and sons.  
Now my designs work prosperously;  
Only the late discovery that Selina made,  
Does trouble me; Agenor, not Clarimant  
My Rival, is by her beloved: but all  
Do love Clorinda; yet now Agenor's gone,  
She happily may change her love to Clarimant,  
Who is opinion now stands fairest for the Crown:  
Rather I hope by this she hates him  
As the cause of all Agenor's misery:  
So far Selina is by me instructed  
so insinuate, whom I of late have wrought  
To a belief that I do love her person,  
But Clorinda's quality and title,  
As being those steps by which I hope of ascend  
The throne— See where she comes! speak my sweet  
Agent; how moves our plot?  Enter Selina, with a Letter sealed and writ out. Sel. 
Not well, too fast I fear.  Cle. 
As how?  Sel. 
Obeying your directions, my Lady hath contracted  
So much hatred against Prince Clarimant,  
She scarcely can endure to hear him named,  
Resolves never to see him more.  Cle. 
Is not this well? 'tis all as I could wish?  Sel. 
Thus far 'tis true: but now Agenor's gone  
She so much apprehends the importunity  
Of Prince Clarimants affection, that she's resolved  
Past all persuasion, in a disguise  
To seek for the Agenor, which if she find,  
She satisfies her love, however cures her fears.  Cle. 
My cunning hath undone me:  
Thus chance oft triumphs over wisdom.  
But what? there is some remedy in every ill—  
Let me think it what disguise: soft, may she not  
With you dissemble, as you with her?  
And she does yet love Clarimant, and not Agenor  Sel 
No, I have that here does assure me  
She hates Prince Clarimant.  Cle. 
What is't▪ a Letter? O let me see it!  Sel. 
By no means sir, you cannot close it  
But the Prince will find it hath been broken.  Cle. 
You do not know my skill.  Sel. 
I need not trust it, upon my life I'll tell you  
Every word that it contains, she read it to me.  Cle. 
Nay then I fear she did abuse you,  
All Lovers are dissemblers, and she I fear  
Is a cunning one.  Sel. 
What she hath done, I know not;  
But now her sorrows and her passions  
Are so raised, the heart's transparent.  Cle. 
There may be greatest art.  Sel. 
Such broken sighs, and floods of tears,  
Agenor's name still called upon,  
Gives me assurance of her love to him.  Cle. 
Change but the name, the griefs may still 〈◊〉  
Counterfeit: I sigh and vow Clorinda,  
Instructed by ambition; but yet my heart  
Is more Selina's.  [Kisses her] Sel. 
Well, my Lord, you may abuse me.  Cle. 
Prithee let me see the Letter.  Sel. 
The words are few, and I can write them down:  
Pray sir do not desire what may undo  
My credit with my Lady, which truth is,  
I do only value, as it may advance your ends.  [Enter Clarimant.] Cle. 
The Prince! Make show as if you only  
Did of me inquire for him.  Sel. 
My Lord!  Cle. 
There, Lady, is Prince Clarimant, whom you  
Inquire for— If he do read it here, I shall  
Observe his action.  Sel. 
From Clorinda this, accompanied with all misfortunes:  Clar. 
How?  Sel. 
Pardon the duty of a servant.  Clar. 
Stay, Lady.  Sel. 
I must receive no answer.  Exit. Clar. 
Since from her hand, however I receive it  
Thus—  [Kisses it.] Cle. 
Certain she hath abused Selina:  
He kift the paper, as knowing the inside  
Differs from the superscription.  Clar. reads 
Of Lovers most injurious, of brother's falsest,  
Of all Mankind the worst! Yet know I wish now  
What before I only grieved for, that Clarimant  
Should love Clorinda, may it be to madness;  
If less, only because the sense of torment  
May be more, in which alone I can expect  
A diminution of that grief, which by thy means  
I suffer.— Thine everlasting enemy, Clorinda.  Clar. 
So long my Saint! O you Gods, do I deserve this?  
Yes, I do, for she like you is just;  
And we blaspheme, when we in thought repine,  
As not conceiving how, though certainly  
We have offended; my guilt is clear,  
'Tis crime enough to be the accidental cause  
Of misery to her.  Cle. 
This sure is real sadness; Selina, I believe thee now.  Exit Cleon. Clar. 
Let me examine, have I not through ambition  
Or hope to gain Clorinda for myself,  
Been aiding to my brother's wrongs?  
Sure I am guilty: I but think I did  
My best to appease my Father; yes, the Gods know,  
And she as being divine, may see my real  
Love to him, not only as my brother,  
But my friend; did either want, and could be  
So supplied, how gladly would I pour this  
Blood into their empty veins? and yet she  
Hates me thus, perhaps my brother does so too.  
What's that? nothing: 'Tis true, if I durst  
Wholly yield my heart.  
He meanly does deserve a lover's name,  
That can know mixture in his grief, or flame.  Exit. Enter Agenor and Lucidor (disguised.) Lucid. 
Though you have lost your Country for the present,  
All your hopes dashed in the minute of your greatest▪  
Expectation; yet sir consider, the hand of fortune▪  
That presses you thus low, may as she turns  
The wheel, raise you again.  Age. 
Never, oh never! 'tis not the hand of fortune  
But my guilt that bears me down; Justice,  
The justice of the Gods lies heavy on me,  
Treason and disobedience, till now I never  
Found their weight.  Lucid. 
I know not, sir, what you call Treason:  
Though what you did intent, succeeded not,  
I hold your fortune to be better now  
Then in in your father's Court; you are safe in this  
Country, and your own disposer, neither of which  
I take it was allowed you there.  Age. 
Why do you injure truth, and seek to lessen  
My foul faults? Think not to make my grief  
Diminish so; rather express your friendship  
In yielding as I do; so shall you quickly  
Be informed that our crimes are so great,  
No punishment can be too much; and I have now  
No joy, but in this burden of my sorrows.  Lucid. 
Nor I in my particular, no grief so great  
As in the lightness of my purse.  Age. 
We have enough, these Jewels will  
From want secure us; for I am resolved  
Never to quit this habit and condition,  
Since justice hath imposed it as a punishment  
For my ambition.  Enter Two: I. 
Make haste, make haste; sure we shall come  
Too late.  Age. 
Let's leave the street.  Exeunt. Enter Two! 1. 
Do you think we shall get near to see?  
Sure she'll choose one of the strange Princes.  2. 
Troth who can tell? Newstrea affords  
Handsomer men than they.  1. 
Indeed she's passed fifteen; I'll warrant she has  
A Sweetheart, some at her age have two  
Or three.  2. 
Trust me, she's the wiser to have plenty;  
When age comes, they'll drop like leaves  
In Autumn.  Exeunt. Enter (with all the glory can be) King, Austella, three Princes, Lords, Ladies, Sister, and People. King. 
Daughter, this is the day  
Wherein you have full power  
To dispose my Kingdom, nay more,  
Yourself.  Austel. 
This freedom, sir, of choice, which custom  
And your Majesty allows, is that wherein  
My bondage will consist; nay, all this  
Glorious troop appear to me no other  
Than if they came with joy to see me  
Put into the grave alive.  K. 
How, daughter!  Aust. 
Many Virgins, sir, that have been forced to  
Marry those they did not love, have rather  
Chosen death as the less evil.  K. 
I understand you not; call you this force,  
Where the election's absolutely free?  Aust. 
I grant, sir, I am free to choose;  
But if I would not choose at all, does not  
The same constraint still rest upon me?  
Pardon, great Princes, whose expectation  
To enjoy me and a Crown, have drawn you  
From your Countries: you are all indifferent  
In my eye, nor does my knowledge of your merits  
Which I confess is great, persuade that in  
The choice of any one I shall be happy:  
And where the wife is discontented, the husband sure▪  
If he have real worth, cannot be pleased.  K. 
From the knowledge of the liberal power  
The law allows, and the necessity of a successor,  
You cannot but have often thought on this day's  
Ceremony: Let not a feigned modesty,  
Or be it real, prevail above your duty and your reason:  
The ripeness of your years may justly challenge  
All delight; and here a Husband, and the assurance  
Of a Crown attend you.  [She weeps] 
If these do make you weep,  
What can cause joy in woman? Since you are  
My daughter, I dare not think that you have placed  
Your love on any man you are ashamed to name.  Aust. 
The Gods are witness, sir, I never saw that person  
Yet, whom I thought worthy to exchange  
My heart with; but custom, sir, and you impose  
On me the prostitution of my love perhaps to one,  
Who, were't not for the Crown I bring,  
Nay even with that addition will happily refuse me.  1 Pr. 
Refuse you, Madam!  2 Pr. 
He must not sure be mortal,  
That dare aspire a greater happiness.  3 Pr. 
The Gods have left heaven for mortals,  
Then here there never was a greater cause.  Aust. 
Princes, these words do fitly wait upon  
The action you are now engaged in:  
I do not doubt you should refuse me,  
But I perhaps may choose one whose affection  
Is already given; how miserable am I then?  
Since there to be refused, were the less mischief,  
For his acceptance only grants a perjured  
And ambitious husband.  K. 
How vain are these excuses, since the custom  
And my age enforce a choice.  Aust. 
Like one condemned I beg for mercy:  
Cross not the course of nature; even beasts, sir,  
Do not couple till they woo.  K. 
Plead not the rights of nature, since those you wrong  
By thus refusing marriage: On your posterity  
Depends the safety of my State, and I nor can  
Nor will dispense with what custom and law  
Appoint.  Aust. 
The law doubtless was made in favour of  
The daughter, to make her happy in a free  
Choice, which almost never is allowed to Princes;  
But where like privileges are, if not demanded,  
They're not enforced: Those Countries where the  
Book's allowed to save the forfeit life  
For theft, 'tis but if asked; so when a Virgin  
Saves a life, and gains a husband,  
Yet have they in those offers been refused,  
And death embraced by the delinquent.  
Then wonder not that I, a Princess, to miss  
A husband, which being enforced I needs must hate,  
Do that which common persons have performed.  
My seeming disobedience set against  
Their forfeit life, Justice will force  
These Princes, and your sacred Majesty confess  
That I have reason on my side, however will  
And custom plead for you.  King. 
Fond Austella, too late I fear thou wilt repent  
This pride of soul; it is no other cause  
Makes thee thus peevish: My Lords, your ear.  Aust. 
Ha! what object meets mine eyes? sure there is  
Something like a charm that works upon me;  
Can this be natural? fie Austella,  
Consider these Princes had no power;  
Let not a glance then of a stranger's eye  
Kindle an amorous fire about thy Virgin heart:  Age. 
The Princess eyes are fixed upon me,  
And they are glorious ones, believe me friend.  1 Pr. 
Sir, we are all agreed; the honour to be your  
Son in law, which thus we still may be,  
Is that we covet.  King. 
Know Austella, since you refuse the privileges  
Of your birth, and thus neglect my safety  
And the State; that reason which you so much plead  
Invests your sister with all those privileges  
Which once belonged to you.  Austel. 
Ah me! that I had sooner seen, or never.  Sist. 
My sister, sir, will be better advs'id, I know.  Austel. 
I wish, sir, I had not so far transgressed;  
But do your pleasure.  King. 
My pleasure, dearest Austella, is to make thee yet  
What nature did ordain thee, if thou wilt choose  
A husband.  Aust. 
I shall sir, so you will promise  
What the law requires upon your part.  King. 
'Tis vain to make a second promise,  
With the Crown I took that Oath.  Austel. 
These Princes and all that hear me, know that I  
Can choose but one; I hope none will repine  
Since for myself I choose.  I Pr. 
None dares be so unjust to question the actions  
Of a Goddess, such all true Lovers  
Ever should esteem their Mistress.  Austel. 
Sir, in obedience to your royal will,  
I am resolved to give away myself—  
Stay— pause Austella— It is no less:  
How rash, how fatal may that bounty prove!  
Shall the deceitfullest of all my senses  
Be more powerful than reason, duty,  
Or my resolution? No, no, my eyes,  
Though as a woman I receive with joy  
The beams which you convey, yet as a Princess  
On whom depends the good of others,  
Reason and virtue ought to sway me more.  Age. 
Is't not extremely dark upon the sudden?  Lucid. 
Just as it was.  Age. 
O friend, I am undone for ever!  K. 
Daughter, why do you hold us all upon the Rack  
Of expectation?  Aust. 
In an affair of so high consequence  
Blame me not, sir, though I advise. Were you to give away  
A Kingdom, you would do so. I shall not only, sir,  
Do that, but likewise take from many,  
Especially these Princes, a Kingdom, and your Daughter;  
And yet to balance all these discontents,  
Please but one person:  K. 
Yes, dearest Austella, yourself in your free choice  
Of him whoever he be.  Aust. 
You encourage me; but I, sir, from my care  
Of these your subjects for whom I am to choose  
A King, as well as for myself a husband,  
Humbly desire the Ceremonial part  
Of this days custom may be dispensed with;  
And where the manner was to praise the Gods  
For him was chosen son in law, and so successor  
To the Crown, you now would with more reason  
And a righter set devotion go to the Temple,  
And invoke those heavenly powers to inspire me  
With their wisdoms in my election, which I will make  
At my return.  K. 
I know not how I, or these Princes, or these people  
Can refuse you a request so just and pious,  
Tending to all our goods.— Set forward to the Temple.  Exeunt. Enter people passing over by degrees, (talking.) Enter Austella and a Lady. 
Are not those strangers I sent for, come?  Thom. 
Madam, they wait your pleasure.  Aust. 
Wait! why did you suffer it? Oh bring them in,  
Yet stay.  Thom. 
What contradiction's here?  Aust. 
How hard a part necessity hath thrust upon me!  
Time, till for this cause, I never wished  
Thy motion slower; desire them enter.  Ex. Lady Enter Agenor, Lucidor. Age. 
O you Gods, was this the Lady that sent  
for us?  Aust. 
Noble strangers, for such your looks do promise,  
I took the boldness to send for you to know  
A truth, which from our natives, or my father's  
Subjects, 'tis not like I shall, since all are apt  
Still to approve the customs of their Nation:  Lucid. 
Madam, when you are pleased to make me and my son  
Know your demands, so far as our abilities inform,  
Truth shall not suffer.  Aust. 
Say you the same, sir?  Age. 
'Twere alike vain as to dissemble with Divinity,  
Not to speak truth to you.  Aust. 
What I demand, is, how you do approve  
Those actions of which you were late witnesses?  Age. 
I must esteem that Kingdom made happy  
By a custom, where their prosperity  
And future bliss depends on your election,  
Who have no doubt the care of heaven to govern  
What you do, as well as 'tis expressed  
In the harmonious composing of your person:  Aust. 
This flattery makes me despair to find  
That truth which I expected, and you promised.  
Yet necessity does urge me to demand  
A bolder question: What Country do you hold  
Produces the greatest beauties?  Age. 
Madam, this Kingdom, even this place contains  
More than the world besides.  Aust. 
These words methinks fall from your tongue,  
As if you had been taught by Love to speak  
Hyperboles: You have a Mistress, I perceive.  Age. 
Ah me!  Aust. 
Speak, have you not?  Lucid. 
She loves you, on my life.  Aust. 
Oh I fear.  Lucid. 
What mean you sir?  
Madam, I know the Prince.  Aust. 
How sir?  Lucid. 
The Prince of Love I mean, Queen Venus' Child,  
Had never any power yet o'er my son,  
The war hath ever been his Mistress.  Aust. 
How gladly would I flatter my desires  
With a belief of something even above my hopes!  
The words were strangely broken and abrupt,  
Is he your father, sir?  Age. 
Madam, you are the first that ever seemed to doubt it.  Au. 
I must confess I do: withal, whatever he says,  
I must believe you are a Lover.  Age. 
Madam, one truth's in both; the latter  
I will swear, or seal it with my blood.  Au. 
How sir?  Age. 
That I do love.  Au. 
How long have you done so?  Age. 
Since the first minute that I saw the object  
Of my passion.  Au. 
I must increase your wonder at the strictness  
Of my examination: Hath many days passed  
Since your passion first took birth?  Age. 
Though it may seem an arrogance approaching  
Madness; yet truth, which you enjoin,  
And all must reverence, forces me say  
The sun hath never set, since my affection  
Rise; a glorious passion sure, if but considered  
From yourself the object.  Au. 
Me! Know you to whom you speak?  Age. 
I know you are the daughter of a King,  
So to be reverenced: but I obey a power  
That awes all sceptres; your beauty hath erected  
In my heart a greater monarchy, and that commands  
Me, fear cast by, here prostrate at your feet,  
Acknowledging my subjection.  [knelt] Au. 
Ye Gods, teach me to husband all my joys:  
Although encouraged, he that dares thus profess  
His love to me, must have a soul above the  
Common rank: why do you kneel?  Age. 
You are my destiny, give life or death:  Au. 
So were you mine; time bars all ceremony now,  
At once receive all happiness that I can give you.  Age. 
If this be real, I shall contemn addition;  
Are we not in a pleasing dream? is all this truth?  Lucid. 
All certainly, if she be flesh and blood:  
Ere long I hope you'll be resolved.  Au. 
Let none take notice of our conference,  
I must in public choose you:  
If but my Father then my act approve,  
None ever was so happy in their love.  Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scaen 1.  Enter King, three Princes. 1 Pr. 
SIr, we are injured past all sufferance,  
And shall return back to our Countries  
The scorn of all the world.  K. 
Princes, I had no power to force the affection  
Of my daughter.  1 Pr. 
Your daughter never durst have made a choice  
So much to our dishonour, had you not been  
Before acquainted with it.  2 Pr. 
Or when she had, would he have given consent,  
But that it was his plot?  K. 
Let not my patiented bearing of your slander  
Make you believe I fear your angers,  
Though united; yet that I may give you all  
Satisfaction possible, the Gods be witness with me  
I knew not her intent before, nor had I power  
To hinder when the choice was made: You saw  
Yourselves, the people, as if inspired to his  
Advantage whom my daughter chose, with strange  
Unheard of acclamation did express their joy.  3 Pr. 
I wonder what they saw to be delighted with,  
Some of our persons are as promising as his.  K. 
They saw one like themselves, a common person chosen,  
And that begot their joy and friendship.  
Know Princes, though in honour I am bound to observe  
Fairly my promise to content my subjects;  
Not all your discontents, if joined, make up one half  
Of mine: but if you hold yourselves disgraced  
By such a Rival, am not I more, both in his present  
Interest, and future expectation of my Crown?  
But now to manifest in public our discontent,  
Will no ways suit the present joys attending  
Hymen's rights; but you shall find your honours  
Something righted by what I shall perform.  
This music speaks the bride's approach to bed,  
We must be wanting in no outward ceremony  
Custom commands.— Now all retire, and leave  
This happy man to enjoy a pleasure  
Which the Gods may envy; these Princes do, I am sure.  Enter Agenor, Austella, Sister, Ladies, Lucidor: 1 Pr. 
This Gentleman deserves so much, he is above our envy.  2 Pr. 
Some Prince disguised, without all doubt.  3 Pr. 
Most mighty Monarch, we subscribe to your high birth,  
Fate did ordain us humble vassals to attend your triumph.  Age. 
That this divinest Lady judged me worthy,  
Does raise me really to what your scorns  
Do throw upon me; and were this time and place  
Proper to right myself, the boldest of you  
I would make seal with his blood, I were in worth  
His equal, however I do boast no title.  Lucid. 
Well spoke; h'as cooled the Prince's blood.  Au. 
I hope, sir, you'll remember he is my husband,  
So your son, in that at least an equal to these Princes.  
But happily their injuries take birth  
From your expressed dislike: If so, let all  
Your anger fall where it is only due, on me.  
Yet Royal sir, remember you forced me choose  
A husband, and Love instructed 'twas only he  
Can make me happy.  K. 
Why, daughter, are your joys disturbed?  
Do you believe you and my Kingdom  
Bore so smalll a value with these Princes,  
That they could part with all their hopes  
And not be moved? Their murmuring proves but  
A foil to set you off with greater lustre;  
So raise your husband to an ecstasy of joy,  
Since he a private man possesses that which Princes  
Grieve to miss:  1 Pr. 
Madam, the King hath spoken what we had  
Else alleged in our excuse.  K. 
'Tis time all should retire, and leave them  
To the accomplishment of their full joys:  
Remember what I enjoined.  Exeunt all but Age. and Aust. Age. 
Were not my faith strong in your happy  
Influence, a sadness now might give some little  
Check to my full joys.  Au. 
It reaches not so high as sadness,  
Only some thoughts that crossed my fancy.  Age. 
Madam, the Ladies of this Court are enemies  
To Hymen's rights; else sure they would have stayed  
To undress you; all Brides that I have seen  
Were in an instant ready for their bed,  
So many busy hands about them.  Au. 
Perhaps our customs in that point do differ  
Yet you must grant we are no enemies to Love.  Age. 
If so, you were ingrate, since that great Deity  
In your fair sex, hath placed his glory, power,  
And all his sweetness: which when you freely do  
Dispense to those that honour you, you pay  
To him the proper sacrifice.  Au. 
I do not understand what sacrifice you mean.  Age. 
I would instruct you to bed, bright Queen of Love!  
All other attributes come short; the zealous ardour  
Of my heart commands me style you so.  Au. 
Mine to you enjoins me study how to keep  
Your flame (in which I glory) pure and high;  
And I believe that our imaginations  
Far exceeds the touches of our sense.  Age. 
Be not deceived; if this, and this, beget delight,  
Which, if you love, it must; can an increase  
Diminish joy?  Au. 
No more, I must not trust to demonstration,  
My faith grew by discourse.  Age. 
I find you had a woman to your Tutor;  
But know, this logic is the properest for Love,  
Yet this is not the fittest School to teach it in.  
To bed; and if you do not there confess  
Our loves and joys receive increase,  
For ever banish me your sight.  Au. 
Neither my love nor duty can admit that,  
Since you are my husband  Age. 
Not going to bed, both point to it.  Au. 
You willingly mistake; I mean, both do forbidden  
Our separation.  Age. 
Then sure they do conclude the contrary:  
Come dearest, make me no longer languish;  
You are an excellence so great,  
You can no more receive addition by difficulty,  
Then a rich pendant Diamond by a Foil.  Au. 
But yet a while I must be worn so,  
You cannot have me naked.  Age. 
I know you will not be so cruel.  Au. 
If there be any, Love be my witness  
My heart does harbour none but to myself.  Age. 
Take heed; the witness whom you call must  
As a judge condemn you; that Deity  
And Hymen both are injured, you tempt  
Their power to show a judgement on you:  
But they I fear are partial, making me only feel  
Their rage; no, I blaspheme, and they are just  
In punishing my pride, that could believe  
I merited so great a bliss.  Au. 
I melt at this, yielding undoes us both.  
I must not stay, dear sir good night.  Age. 
An ill and everlasting one,  
If thus you leave me.  Au. 
What shall I do?  Enter Lady. 
Madam, the King hath sent to see if yet you be at rest.  Age. 
Ha!  Au. 
Tell him I now am going to my chamber ...  
'Twas well, I had been lost else.  Age. 
Is't even so? this silence speaks me miserable,  
From what a pitch of happiness am I fallen!  Au. 
Sir, on my knees I beg a pardon for which soever  
You condemn; never was heart then mine  
More full of love and duty.  Age. 
I must not doubt it, but yet—  Au. 
Lay by all fears, and let your dreams assure you  
Of my faith; ere long, by this, and this, reality  
Shall crown your wishes. Pardon me modesty,  
I in these kisses only do bestow,  
Rather but pay interest for what I owe.  Exit. Age. 
There is division in me; if ever any heart  
Did at an instant feel both joy and sorrow,  
Sure than I do: No, it is impossible,  
How near soever they appear (considered) there's succession.  
Though this last instant I enjoyed much bliss,  
Yet now I am displeased for what I miss.  Exit. Enter Cleon, Clorinda, Selina, (disguised.) Cle. 
Madam, the last of whom I did demand,  
Assured me in two hours we might reach the City;  
The forest is but narrow, as they say,  
The way not hard to find.  Clo. 
But trust me I am weary,  
I can walk no further till I rest.  Cle. 
You cannot find a fit place than this,  
My sister and I will watch a distance from you  
Whilst you sleep.  Clo. 
Indeed I find I need it; my grief and travel  
Hath wasted much my spirits. Yet since for thee  
Agenor, I should rejoice in't, though my pains  
Were greater.  [Lies down.] Cle. 
She does begin to fall asleep,  
Sister, let's walk a little further.  Sel. 
With you whither you please.  Ex. Cleon and Selina Enter Cleon and Selina (again.) Cle. 
Hear me, thou fool, with the attention  
As thou wouldst do a God that should in speech  
Declare his pleasure to thee.  Sel. 
What means this?  Cle. 
Thou knowst my love unto the Princess,  
And I know thine to me hath made thee fond  
Hinder all those opportunities I had to enjoy her.  
But now take heed; my passion raised by  
These delays unto that height, it knows  
No limits: If thou shalt speak, or call  
From where I bind thee by all that can be sworn by,  
Those sounds direct this dagger to thy heart.  Sel. 
O you Gods, can so much cruelty  
Dwell in your breast? sure Love admits no such  
Companion; I was a fool that ever could  
Believe it.  Cle. 
I shall not greatly study to attain  
Your good opinion: If by persuasion  
I attain my wishes from the Princess.  
Then this shall live; but if I must use force,  
Then she must die, she has a tongue.  Exit Cleon & Selina: [Wind a Horn within: then enter Cleon.] Cle. 
There's some a hunting in the forest;  
But by the cry, they make quite from us.  Clo 
O save me, save me heaven!  Cle. 
Dear Madam, what affrights you?  Clo. 
I had a fearful dream;  
My heart beats hard to find a passage out,  
As if there were no safety in this miserable  
Habitation.  Cle. 
What Prince that lives would not receive it  
Gladly, and give you his to undergo your fears?  
All I dare say, being your servant, is,  
Danger shall pierce my heart, before it reach to you.  Clo. 
I know it shall; full well thou hast discharged  
By thy unwearied care and pains, all that thy sister  
Promised me in thy behalf.  Cle. 
Madam, there's none that serve so truly  
As where love is to pay the wages.  Clo. 
Love! what do you mean by that?  
I understand you not.  Cle. 
Nor yet?—  [Discovers] Clo. 
Ha! much less by this; my wonder is increased,  
Shall I believe my eyes, or ears?  Cle. 
Madam, I am to claim a promise:  
Behold the truest and most afflicted Lover  
That ever begged relief, kneeling before you.  Clo. 
I must confess my promise was to assist you  
In your love; but then, as now, most ignorant  
Who was your Mistress.  Cle. 
He is not worthy to be held a Lover,  
That makes his flame glair in the public eye,  
Troubles the world with complaints: Let such a one  
Reap scron from her he loves, and a cheap pity  
From his hearers. If I must fall through your  
Disdain, (for know you are the Saint of my devotion)  
A silent grave shall be more glorious in my esteem,  
If you in private shed one tear,  
Then all the trophies whining Poets  
Or repentant love ever adorned a hearse with.  Clo. 
Your words alone would vanish into common air,  
If not made solid by your action.  Cle. 
It is some happiness to gain belief,  
Add but your pity.  Clo. 
My Lord, you have all that's possible for me to give,  
Since I have but one heart.  Cle. 
But if that heart be sent you back,  
You may again dispose it: you see the Prince  
Careless of your commands, hath rashly through  
Ambition lost himself, but first he forfeited  
His obedience to his Mistress; for you confessed this day,  
You did enjoin a double temperance  
Unto his love, and his ambition.  Clo. 
For him, as for myself, I must interpret  
The irregularity of his actions  
To grow from his unlimited affection:  
And though I grieve the sad effects, his flight  
And my pursuit, I must not love him less;  
The power he aimed at, was but to make himself  
More capable to serve me.  Cle. 
The same end, Madam, hath directed all my actions,  
Which you I hope will grant, when I have set  
The Crown of Burgony upon your head,  
Your right, this arm shall prove against the world.  
Clarimant now, for the old King is dead,  
Usurps that sceptre, the Merchant whom we  
Travelled with assured me:  Clo. 
All you discourses have strange wonders in them.  Cle. 
Madam, why are you sad at that which should  
Rejoice you? What though no subject but myself  
Allow your claim? when I am known your servant  
And your General, the Boy will be contented  
With the Principality of Cyrais,  
Rather than venture losing all.  
And certain, Madam, 'tis more glorious,  
And should be more content to you to make a King,  
Then to be made a Queen, at least to wander  
Seeking one to do it, who happily  
Hath found another that he more esteems.  Clo. 
I can no longer bear thy falsehoods,  
Even thy disguises do discover thee.  Cle. 
To be the faithfullest of all your servants, Lady.  Clo. 
The falsest that the sun beholds; touch me not  
I command thee.— Ho Selina, where art thou?  Cle. 
She will not answer you, I am engaged,  
I read disdain and anger in her eyes,  
Persuasions will not do, I must try other means.  Clo. 
I was to blame to speak so bitterly,  
How much his looks are changed!— Selina!  Cle. 
In vain you call: Madam, I see neither my sufferings past,  
Your promise or present tender of my service,  
Have power to gain your good opinion.  
At least consider where you are, give me not cause  
By your unkindness, back to reflect upon my own  
Advantage, your happiness forgot. I tender you once more  
A servant and a husband: Acceptance  
Makes me equal to a God in happiness;  
If you deny, 'tis in my power to take  
A sweet revenge.  Clo. 
Revenge, my Lord! I know not what you mean.  Cle. 
Certain you do suspect, but I'll inform you fully—  
Sure you forget your sex; else you would rather give  
Than have me force a pleasure from you.  Clo. 
How, Villain!  
Offers to embrace her.  Cle. 
Come Madam, you are mine; I must return kisses,  
Embraces for those frowns; nor art, nor force  
Can free you from me.  Clo. 
Unhand me: Can you believe to scape heaven's justice  
After an act so foul?  Cle. 
So foul! so fair:  
Yes, often I do hope to do the same.  
'Twas well attempted; but now it shall assist  
The owner: Yield, or I'll pierce that  
Unrelenting heart. She offers to draw his sword.  Clo. 
Traitor, thou darest not. [She spits at him.]  Cle. 
'Tis true, not kill you, had you done me wrong'st  
Above what mankind ever suffered:  
You cannot move me otherwise then to  
Infinity of love; yield but consent,  
And be a sharer in my joy.  Clo. 
Villain, think of the punishment that does attend thee  
Rather, from the just Gods: yet kill me,  
And I will pray to heaven for mercy on thee:  Cle. 
Your beauty, and my love, both plead against you;  
But you may think me cold to talk thus long,  
We must remove into a thicker place.  Clo. 
Help, help you Gods! murder, treason, help!  Exeunt. Enter Agenor. 
It is impossible this boar can scape,  
Having so many wounds; sure I shall tract him  
By his blood.  
Within,  Clo. 
Help, oh help! Traitor!  Age. 
Ha! 'tis sure a woman's voice.  Exit. Enter Agenor, Cleon, Clorinda. Age. 
Rude slave, how canst thou injure so much sweetness?  Cle. 
I must not speak, but do.  [Fights] Clo. 
O heavens, 'tis he! guard him, you powers.  Cle. 
Hold, oh hold, and hear me!  Clo. 
O my dear Lord, believe not aught he says.  Age. 
Ha! what voice?  As Age. turns Cleo. thrusts at him. 
Villain, and Traitor both!  Cle. 
Oh—  [dies] Clo. 
Are you not hurt?  
Pardon you Powers, whom I so oft blasphemed  
In my despair, Deliverance! and by this hand!  
O my joys, you grow too fast upon me.!  Age. 
'Tis she, the too much injured Clorinda:  
Why should I know her, that have so much  
Forgot myself and virtue? O my shame!  Clo. 
Why hang you down your head? these unbefitting clothes  
Nor you nor I should blush at,  
Since love did both provide and put them on.  Age. 
Your love to me?  Clo. 
Ha'— My love to you! you cannot think  
My heart is capable of other love.  Age. 
I wish I could,  
For then my falsehood had been so much less  Clo. 
Dear sir, what is it in me that offends your eyes?  Age. 
This face, if it have less of beauty,  
Yet even that loss, since caused by sorrow  
For your misfortunes, merits from you more love.  Age. 
Nor face, nor habit, dearest Clorinda— but—  Clo. 
But what? strangely unkind!  Age. 
Oh here, receive this sword, rip up my breast,  
And see what's written in my heart; there,  
There thou shalt find the cause of this distraction:  Clo. 
No jealousy, I hope, nor apprehension  
That I have suffered rape, my person so  
Become unworthy of your love: If either way  
Defiled, I should not dare to approach thus near you.  Age. 
Then pardon me, divinest Maid, this seeming coldness,  
That only grows from my respect to injured virtue  Clo: 
How sir! what are you guilty of?  
Be it an offence committed against me,  
Pardon yourself with promise of amends,  
And I will seal it on this Princely hand,  
That gave so late life to my dying honour.  Age. 
O do not touch that hand,  
It was too active in your wrongs.  Clo. 
Ha! O my fears! I dare not question more  
And yet I must, my torment cannot well be greater;  
Your hand, this hand; speak, oh speak!  Age. 
What?  Clo. 
This hand which you so often have approached  
With trembling reverence, mine; this hand  
Which to your letters set, assured the free gift  
Of your heart to me, hath not presumed to give it  
To another sure.  Age. 
O yes, this hand hath instrumentally bequeathed  
My heart unto another, with all the ceremonial  
Rights of marriage.  Clo. 
Married! Oh me! pain, danger, and disgrace,  
Fruits of a faithful love; behold your recompense.  [Weeps.] 
O men, false men!— Why then these tears? rather revenge:  
Such wrongs cry loud, and make a feeble arm  
Like mine, heaven's instrument of justice.  Age. 
Strike where you please; but if you will be just,  
Here, this is the seat of falsehood, here dwells  
The traitor.  Clo. 
But hear the miserable—  
Offers to kill herself.  Age. 
O dearest Clorinda, add not unto my breach  
Of faith, the guilt of murder; for your sweet innocence  
Can know no spot, but as by me infected.  Clo. 
Why do you make shows of repentance,  
And yet persist in injuries? You seem to grieve  
For having made me wretched, yet force me  
To continue miserable.  Age. 
'Tis to prevent your misery and mine, that  
I restrain you:  
You had wont to enjoin and teach me temperance,  
Remember that.  Clo. 
O bid me not remember; 'tis loss of memory  
Alone can ease my torments; and 'tis a study,  
Since you will have me live, that I must practise:  Age. 
Live, and live happily, or else I never can do so:  
Live as my friend, my dearest sister.  Clo. 
That is a title, had nature framed me such,  
I had been happy in. Your brother now, or kinsman,  
For I have lost my modesty so far,  
Ever to take a woman's habit; and whilst I so  
Forget my sex, I likewise may forget part of my grief.  Age. 
Then as my friend, I will communicate my fortunes  
To you; where you will find, though nothing  
Worthy of a pardon, yet something near a fair  
Excuse, it Beauty and a Crown bear estimation.  Clo. 
I know you mean your wife: O me, why did  
I name her? Be not so weak, my resolution:  
I shall discover who I am; so move her hate  
Or scorn, and then you will repent my being  
Near you.  Age. 
I know I never shall.  Clo. 
I am no Rival; 'tis sin with passion  
To affect you now, since lawfully another's right.  
This temperance I shall endeavour, however  
I will do no wicked office, or seek to make  
Appear her virtue, or her beauty less,  
Since they are your excuse, my satisfaction grows  
From their excess.  Exeunt  

Act. 5. Scaen. 1.  Enter King (reading a Letter) three Princes, Lords, Austella. Au. 
To force me choose a husband, yet bar the rights  
Or marriage! But I must bear it, since my Father  
And my King esteem it fit.  1 Pr. 
What is the number of the King's army, sir?  K. 
Ten thousand Horse.  2 Pr. 
What Foot?  K. 
None that appears, but doubtless they are coming  
After: Princes, you may now manifest your love  
To me and to my daughter, by raising forces  
To assist me in this need.  3 Pr. 
You have a powerful enemy, and doubtless  
By some injury highly incensed.  K. 
Rather his power far exceeds mine;  
'Tis that which makes me crave assistance from you:  
My daughter, although married, is yet a Virgin;  
'Tis possible, in time, that she may prove a widow:  
These arguments may witness to you  
I mislike her choice.  1 Pr. 
Indeed she looks as if she were not pleased.  2 Pr. 
But shall we credit this? Lay he not with her?  K. 
Not by my honour; perhaps he never shall,  
Though all were carried formally to please the people,  
Who are enamoured of him now, more than  
My daughter is.  3 Pr. 
Sir, though I cannot think there's likelihood  
That any of us should ever enjoy your daughter,  
Yet I will promise what assistance I can give.  2 Pr. 
The like do I, and for that cause we'll take  
Our leaves.  K. 
I rather thought you would have writ for forces,  
And with your personal assistance and advice  
Help to secure this City.  1 Pr. 
So we should lose ourselves to no purpose:  
The King will suddenly with his Troops of horse,  
If his design lie hither, appear before the walls,  
And close us in: where if we leave you now,  
We may return hereafter to your rescue.  K. 
I dare not force, although I would persuade you.  All 3. 
Lady, we wish much happiness,  
Till we return to serve you.  Ex Princes. K. 
Now thou fond girl, thou mayst perceive what  
Thou hast done to choose a husband of the common  
Rank; these Princes might have been a bulwark  
To defend against the powerful foe:  
Whatever they seem, they for thy sake  
Will not prove enemies, I fear.  Au. 
If you have done no wrong, sir, why should you  
Fear? This King; whom you believe comes to  
Invade, hath his dependence from the Gods,  
And they can change or overturn all his designs▪  K. 
Thus thou didst ever speak with piety  
And wisdom, which made me in thy choice  
Expect a worthy son in law.  Enter Agenor. 
But thou hast brought shame and disgrace upon me.  Exit. Aust. 
The Gods give this allay unto my joy,  
Lest in possessing you, I should contemn  
Their happiness.  [Weeps] Age. 
My dearest Mistress, (for by that title I must call you)  
He that does give you cause to weep,  
Can have no other privilege but that of  
Father, to defend his heart from shedding  
Crimson drops: But since it is your will,  
I must with patience hear yours, and my  
Injuries:  Au. 
Alas, my Lord, consider his years  
Make him incapable to feel our fires  
Titles and riches only please old age,  
And with those favours Princes often die:  Age. 
But yet his memory, methinks, might tell  
Him by looking upon you, what his desires  
Were when he married; and certain, Madam,  
You have little of your mother in you,  
That can obey so cold a precept,  
Where heaven allows too, only man forbids.  Au. 
But yet that man's my Father and my King.  Age. 
Remember that my interest in what is just  
Exceeds both these: pardon the violence of  
My desires, which makes me urge this truth,  
Since it arises from your beauties: but haply  
You do repent your choice, won by your  
Father's threats or promises.  Au. 
Although unkind, yet I must grant you  
Not unjust, in this suspicion. Those sparks  
Which quickly grow a flame, do oft  
As hastily extinguish; perhaps you know  
This by experience, that you so quickly  
Find my guilt, indeed before it had a being,  
But what you may instruct me to hereafter  
By your example.  Age. 
No more, fair soul, I only urged it  
To obtain that which your Father bars me from,  
Your bed; we must not differ thus, being one:  
And yet such gentle quarrels only divide us  
So, as to behold the beauty of each others  
Love, proving at last the proper cement  
Of a true affection.  Au. 
Upon a reconcilement, friends (they say)  
Are ever kindest: What is't you can deny  
Me then?  Age. 
Nothing that's in my power to grant.  Au. 
Tell me your name and country, my dear husband.  Age. 
When I do really possess that title,  
By this kiss I will.  Au. 
Are we not married?  Age. 
But I am ashamed to tell my name or quality,  
And yet my wife a maid: When I do know you  
Perfectly, you shall do me.  Au. 
Now you are wanton, and I do not love you:  
But where's the pretty youth you promised me?  Age. 
He will not tell you who I am, believe me.  Au. 
Well, I'll not ask; pray you let me see him.  Age. 
You shall; he waits without,— remember  
That she knows not who I am.  Enter Clorinda. 
A lovely beauty! what majesty dwells in her eye,  
How earnestly she looks upon me!  
He hath not sure betrayed me to her scorn.  Au. 
I never saw so sweet a Youth;  
That blush becomes him strangely.  Age. 
Mistress, I here present a Kinsman to you,  
One that hath given such testimonies  
Of his love to me, I never shall forget.  Au. 
You cannot speak that goodness, which his looks  
Not promise; however the tie that is  
Betwixt you, does oblige me.  Clo. 
I am betrayed, and she does know me.  Au. 
Are you not well sir?  Clo. 
Madam, I have a grief of a sad nature  
Does oppress me.  Au. 
Of body, or of mind?  Clo. 
Of both▪ and if I not express it, my heart will burst.  Age. 
What can this mean?  Clo. 
Looking upon your beauty, and considering  
Your happy fortune, ay me! The very posture  
Your are now in adds to my affliction: Oh I am sick!  Age. 
Fond man, what have I done?  Au. 
Call for some Cordial.  Clo. 
No Madam, now it needs not; the qualm gins  
To pass, perhaps you wonder, Madam,  
That the love betwixt you two should move  
This passion.  Au. 
Indeed I think it strange, unless you do believe  
That he hath made a choice unworthy of him.  Clo. 
By all the Gods, I never saw a Lady yet  
That I could think each way so excellent;  
And for your love to him, no story's known  
That equals your affection:  Aust. 
What might the cause then be of your distemper?  Clo. 
I had an only sister, which of all the world I loved,  
and she was sued to by many Princes,  
one above her far in birth, but more in merit,  
At lest she thought so; such power hath vows  
and shows of service. I oft have known them sit  
as you do now; their hands fast joined, their eyes  
Fixt upon either, their sighs with all the eloquence  
of love, vowing an everlasting constancy;  
but O false Agenor!  Age. 
Lost for ever!  Clo. 
So was he called; he soon forsook her for another Mistress.  Au. 
'Twas not the Prince of Burgonia, that loved your sister?  Clo. 
Yes, he that loved, and left her and his faith for ever.  Au. 
It was no wonder, he betrayed his Father;  
But certainly some heavy punishment attends him  
wheresoe'r he is.  Clo. 
Perhaps he wanders up and down, to make more women  
wretched.  Au. 
He's too much hated, to return back to his  
Country.  Age. 
Oh misery!  Clo. 
Madam, I by my sister was enjoined to seek him  
through the world.  Age. 
Now she discovers all.  Au. 
Whither?  Age. 
I know the story; he hath told it,  
and made me strangely sad: Trust me, I am much  
displeased that you should hear it, for that cause;  
the King too I know will wonder where you are.  Au. 
Let him, I needs must hear the rest—  
and did you ever find the perjured Prince?  
— sat down again.  Clo. 
Madam, I think I shall discover him.  Age. 
It were as good he did himself.  Clo. 
I heard what Country he was fled to,  
Who in his company.  Au. 
What Country's made unhappy by so base  
A burden? yet I have heard his person  
Promised much, a handsome man.  Clo. 
Madam, trust me my sister had in him  
All outward arguments that might produce  
A passion; only you know there was no faith  
Within; yet there was written in his face  
All nobleness, which I dare say you will confess,  
I have his picture.  Age. 
Nay then—  Au. 
What mean you?  Age. 
I would not see a Piece, where Nature  
Is so much disgraced.  Clo. 
Good heavens, what have I done with it?  
I looked on it this day.  Age. 
O you Gods, what mercy's this she shows me!  Enter Lady. Thom. 
The King calls for you.  Clo. 
Sure, Madam, I have left it at my chamber.  Au. 
I pray you find it, I must see it.  Clo. 
Yes Madam:— Alas, you need it not that have  
The substance: Justice commands this should remain with me;  
True shadow, real misery:  Exeunt Enter Clarimant, Clindor, Merchant, Captain, and soldier's. Clar. 
If that you have informed me be not truth▪  
Expect to suffer death; for on your word  
I have altered my design, given the King  
Time to gather men into the City; so as if now  
He will be obstinate, he may endure a siege  
Some days.  Mer. 
With pardon sir, there can be no great inconveniency  
By what I did inform; the Herald you have sent  
Will soon return with answer to your demand.  
But for your brother's marriage to the Princess  
Austella, there were so many witnesses of that,  
My testimony will ere long be useless.  Clar. 
Good heavens, can it be possible? My brother married,  
And not unto Clorinda? False Agenor!  Clind. 
She may be dead, sir.  Clar. 
Ha! what sayest thou, screech-owl? That thought  
Begets a fear that chills my heat;  
One way or other there is death sure: Leave me,  
All leave me!  [Exeunt all but Clar.] 
I see no way for comfort; the least of mischief  
Is to have a Traitor to my brother:  
But rather be Agenor false, than she be dead:  
In him our sex is only stained; in her the joy  
And excellence of both is lost for ever.  
Heaven could not be so cruel: virtue and all pure thoughts  
Now by her happy influence are gathering strength▪  
I know it by myself; and should she fall  
Unripened for the grave, the Gods losing in her  
Their brightest image, must likewise want  
Much of their adoration. If she were dead,  
He that so soon can love again, may, she alive,  
As well forget his faith: Then she thus injured  
May reflect a comfortable beam on me.  
Vain and irrational hopes! his breach of faith  
Were equal to her death; and dare I think  
That she can do an act imperfect,  
To admit a second love? But powerful time!—  
No time can make me cease to be his brother.  
Yet even beyond all these, if I remain myself  
There is no hope, since her injunction was,  
That I should never see, or speak to her:  
And even since that upon mistakes, degrees of hatred  
Are increased; my griefs summed up, my miseries  
Are such, as they do leave no comfort  
But in their abundance, whose weight must quickly  
Press me to the grave.  
These miracles do only grow from love,  
That grief in their excess should comforts prove.  Exit. Enter King. 
Avarice, thou bane of man, that stealest into  
Our souls with promises of happiness,  
But ever payest us with disturbance!  
The same in its effect is Pride, that sets  
A gloss upon ourselves and actions,  
And throws contempt on others more deserving.  
Covetous to keep a treasure, made me detain  
What I unjustly stood possessed of:  
Ambition made me use with scorn and injury  
My daughter's husband, even whilst he was in birth,  
Although unknown, that which I wished, a Prince;  
And now when I do know his blood and value,  
Fear of this storm that hovers o'er my head  
Must force me to deliver him up to his brother,  
Although he be in birth that brothers King.  
O you just Powers! thus do you make the  
Breaches of your laws for our own covetous  
And ambitious ends, the proper instruments  
To execute your wrath by. Most noble Prince,  
The injuries that I have done to you and Justice,  
humbles me thus low upon my knees  
to beg your pardon.  Enter Agenor, Austella, (severally.) Au. 
Ay me! This scorn exceeds all former wrongs:  Age. 
Sir, what you do intent by this, I know not;  
but well I know the posture cannot suit you:  
You are my Father, sir, 'tis not your cruelty  
Or injustice shall make me fail in duty;  
the sense of my first breach that way  
still dwells within me: Rise sir, I do beseech you.  K. 
I would not till you pardon.  Au. 
Alas sir, why do you mock us thus?  
For all our injuries must be the same,  
Howe'er you strive for to divide us:  K. 
No, Austella, these tears be witness of  
My real sorrow: The Gods inspired thee  
When thou chose this worthy Prince.  Au. 
How sir?  K. 
But found me too unworthy of a beam of light  
Till now; that knowledge proves my greatest curse,  
Since our misfortunes are remediless:  Au. 
You have too soon, sir, robbed me of the joy  
To know he is a Prince, by this expression  
Of your fears for something that's to come;  
But sir, in this you were indeed the faulty person.  Age. 
I fear I shall be found such.  Au. 
Can you conceal such joys from me?  
But I must pardon you all faults,  
You are a Prince, I dare not chide you.  Age. 
Upon your hand let me express my thanks:  
But will you freely pardon for what I have  
Concealed?  Au. 
Gladly I do.  Age. 
You will not sure.  Au. 
Be your doubts clears by this.  [Kisses him] K. 
Daughter, you grant what you should beg:  
Let that inform you who your husband is, [A Letter]  
My injuries to him, and our misfortunes.  Au. 
Still your conclusions fright me: Good sir read it yourself,  
Or rather in some gentler circumstantial way  
Inform what it expresses.  K. 
First know, this paper does contain the King's  
Demands, who with his Army hath now enclosed  
The City, which how we can deny or grant—  Au. 
Pray read sir.  K. reads. 
Your own injustice hath drawn me into your Country;  
Yet I take so kindly the alliance you have contracted  
With my brother Agenor—  Au. 
Agenor!  K. reads. 
That if you will deliver up the Isle of  
Ceris belonging  
To my Crown, and my Brother to me alive, I will quit  
Your Country, well satisfied with my charge; but if in  
Any part of this you fail of an exact performance,  
To morrow I hope to make my own conditions.  
Be advised by him, who appearing your worst enemy,  
May in this council prove your greatest friend—  
Clarimant:  Au. 
Oh Agenor!  Age. 
Now can you pardon?  Au. 
Now can I die; O fate, where have you placed my love?  Age. 
Do you repent? I ne'er was false to you,  
Nor ever can be.  Au. 
Let not my Father hear; I must forgive,  
You are my husband:  K. 
I cannot blame your sorrow; your fortune does command  
A plenteous shower, in which I willingly could bear a part,  
If reason did not tell me council and advice  
Better becomes my quality: I mean not council  
From myself to you, but that we all advise  
Since equally concerned, what's to be done.  Age. 
Methinks justice and reason both chalked out the way  
Of your proceeding.  K. 
As how, dear son?  Au. 
Too late, sir, from your heart you yield that attribute.  K. 
Austella, thy reproof is just.  Age. 
With pardon, sir, it is not; all the fault is mine,  
And justice bids me bear the punishment.  
Yield sir to all my brother Clarimant desires,  
Since by his speedy unexpected coming  
Your forces nor supplies from others can be useful.  K. 
The treasure and the Isle most willingly I will surrender,  
(Would it pleased heaven we all were there!  
'Gainst that no forces could prevail.)  
But to deliver you, that by your death  
He may secure himself, first let destruction  
Seize on me, already ripened for the grave.  
My brother, sir, did ever love me,  
Perhaps so as his brother; but now you are  
His King in justice, but self-respects will point you  
Out the object of his fear, not of his reverence.  Age. 
He cannot be so impious to kill me.  Au. 
You shall not trust him.  Age. 
Consider then what hazard all must run,  
The lives of thousands, a Kingdoms utter ruin.  K. 
Alas, 'tis true:  Age. 
You may perish too, but in my hazard all  
Are safe; 'twere madness to dispute it further.  Au. 
What safety, and you lost?  Age. 
No loss, if you consider truly what I merit:  
You are a Virgin yet; I freely give you back  
Your vows; justly you might revoke them  
As not intended to a perjured person,  
Such you now find I was.  Au. 
But such I hope you are not now to me:  Age. 
Think me such if I miscarry,  
'Twill make your grief the less.  Au. 
But my guilt more in that suspicion:  
Did I not think you loved me, yet duty  
Does command me share in all that you can suffer.  
But confident your heart is here, till death,  
Not then, I must not leave you.  K. 
The glory of the action makes you too partial  
To yourselves; we must dispute this further  
With my council.  Au. 
In vain you will dispute, if you intent to part  
What heaven hath joined, which rules both power  
and art.  Exeunt. Enter Philant. and Strato. Phi. 
Well, I perceive that we shall lose a noble Prince:  
How happy had we been in his succession!  Stra. 
Without all doubt the King his brother  
Will soon by policy or force destroy him;  
Possession of a Crown will kill all natural  
Respects of blood.  Phi. 
But why then should we not resist?  
Justice hath a strong arm.  Stra. 
Yet in apparent dangers, fear still overcomes  
Our faith and courage; but here's impossibility:  
Our City, though great and populous, hath but poor walls:  
The King's army, now his Footmen likewise  
Are come up, are not without a miracle  
To be resisted.  Phi. 
But was't not most dishonourable to invade us  
Without proclaiming war?  Stra. 
To speak to you the truth, it was but justice:  
Did not our King detain a mass of treasure  
To which he had no right?  Phi. 
'Tis true,— but—  Stra. 
But what? Come, come, all unjust actions  
However they seem profitable for the present,  
Involve a curse within them; which when we find,  
We must not lay the blame on others:  
The best way to appease the Gods  
When we have done amiss, is to confess;  
Then mercy follows, or our blows wound less.  Exe. Enter Clindor and Soldiers. 1 So. 
Think you they will surrender the treasure,  
And yield Agenor to our King, or bide the brunt  
Of war?  Clind. 
I'll tell thee what I fear, and what I wish;  
And if thou dost not so, thou art an ass.  1 So. 
Well, speak:  Cli. 
I fear they will surrender, I wish they would not:  
O Lads, might we but come to one assault,  
We should be Lords, we that do venture blows;  
Where in these Treaties we are sure to have  
The worst on't: If peace be the conclusion,  
Would I had been employed upon the Treaty.  1 So. 
Why, what wouldst thou have done?  Cl. 
Herd no reason, nor offered any: the first condition  
Should have been, that all the handsome young  
Women and maids in the City should have come  
Stark naked to have known our pleasure;  
Then the rich men with their jewels and bags  
Of money; then the King with a rope about his neck.  1 So. 
Stay there.  Clind. 
That may be your period, 'tis not mine  
Then for the Prince Agenor—  1. 
What of him?  Clind. 
Nothing but good, I love him well,  
He was a stirring youth, and bountiful,  
But yet not like our King: were the people not  
So base, he should (might I advise) be left Viceroy  
To govern, and I to govern him.  1 So. 
In my conscience should our King show him that favour,  
Thou wouldst persuade him to rebel against his brother.  Clind. 
By this light I think I should, I love to be in action strangely.  1 So. 
That love may chance to bring you to a preferment  
You have courted long, and in my conscience well deserved:  
Others that were less worthy when Agenor fled,  
I saw advanced.  Clind. 
I understand you now, you are a bitter Rascal;  
And here's my hand, if ere there be more broils,  
For this thy kind remembrance I'll cut thy throat.  1 So. 
I thank you sir, I'll look for't.  Exeunt. Enter Clarimant, Captains, Attendants, soldiers. Clar. 
See all things ordered as I gave command:  
I long to see the perjured Traitor,  
That I may do a justice  
To my father's ghost, and injured Mistress.  Enter Clindor. 
The King, his daughter Austella are coming,  
With your brother Prince Agenor.  Clar. 
Traitor Agenor! It seems they mean  
To bear him company in death; Attend them in—  
Do all just as I did direct.  Enter Agenor, Austella, King, Lucidor. Age. 
Brother, you see the advantage of your power  
Forces this visit.  Cla. 
'Twill prove to you a sad one: seize the Rebel.  Capt. 
In the dead and living Kings names we do arrest you.  Age. 
And I in my own name, your King  
In justice, command you hold▪  Au. 
O sir!  [She knelt.] Clar. 
Rise Madam; your intercestion must not interpose  
In this, alone of power to save the lives  
Of many Princes.  Age. 
Just heaven, he's taken!  
This was the mischief I feared.  Cla. 
No Madam; justice alone commands me to surrender  
This where it is due.  The Captains put the Crown on Agenor's head. Omnes. 
Long live Agenor,  
King of Burgonia.  K. 
This is not real, sure.  Age. 
What mockery is this?  Clar. 
O brother, the Crowns of Princes  
Are things to which we own a reverence,  
Not to be used in sport; what are their  
Sacred persons then?  Au: 
Let me fall down and worship  
What a strange godlike race of men  
These pair of Brothers are!  Clar. 
Madam, I must not suffer that which I am  
Infinitely pleased with, since it expresses  
Your excess of love unto my brother.  Age. 
I am confounded with such unexpected  
Courtesy, that I am lost in all acknowledgement  
That may express the power that you  
Must ever hold upon me.  Clar. 
What I have done, justice commanded from me  
If not, my love hath still been such to you  
My brother, that had I been the Monarch  
Of the earth, your power should have been equal.  K. 
This action is so noble, that it does make  
Us more your servants then all force could effect,  
You have subdued our minds.  Clar. 
You set so high a price on Justice,  
That you confirm my resolution;  
Though from the actions I must do,  
Will seemingly arise my proper smart.  Age. 
Command our fortunes, and our lives.  Clar. 
The hazard of your life is that I must demand▪  Age. 
As how to be employed?  Clar. 
In taking mine.  Age. 
Yours! what do you mean?  Clar. 
To kill you, if you cannot me:  
I must not live, knowing whom you have injured.  
And not endeavour to revenge.  Age. 
You cannot be in earnest sure;  
If so, look here.  Clar. 
Can you behold the Image in my heart,  
In the true splendour that it wears;  
You would not bid me view another object,  
Excellent I confess, if not compared.  Age. 
Brother, if you thus press me,  
I shall forget all you have done;  
Since there's no benefit so great, but may be  
Cancelled by the doer.  Clar. 
I wish what I have done, had in it all  
That could oblige, that I did love you more,  
If Possible, that you were nearer to me  
Then a brother, since all degrees of interest  
Serve but like steps to raise the glory of my love  
And justice higher.—  
Choose which you please—  
This; the time and place?  He offers 2 sword's. Age. 
Be witness heaven, which what unwillingness:  
Yet since you, Honour and love engage me:  
I'll offer to my Goddess (left she suspect my zeal)  
A much loved brother's blood.  Au. 
O Soldiers! will you suffer thus the world's Glories  
To eclipse themselves?  Cla. 
Madam, in vain you urge;  
I did before engage them by an oath,  
Whatever I commanded, to obey me.  Au. 
Cannot my prayers or tears? O dear my Lord!  
Your brother's young, and by the glory  
Of his passion, hath lost much of his reason:  
Consider what a mischief even victory  
Must prove to either:  Age. 
Necessity enforces me to accept the combat.  
All circumstance considered, how more than base,  
Ingrate, must I appear? how dull a sense  
Shall I express of your perfections,  
To hear another magnified above you?  Au. 
If I with that dispense, who can complain?  Age. 
Such dispensations makes your value more,  
And so adds to the justice of my cause.  [Enter Clorinda.] Au. 
To you I turn then: Will you needs end  
An action so gloriously begun, in blood?  
A brother's murder, or your own? What you have done,  
Shown you a demigod, eclipsing all  
That story hath recorded: but such an end  
As you design, will cast you from the height  
Of all your glory, and leave you to posterity  
A hated name.  Cla. 
If so, yet still I stand engaged: Love, and my fate  
Appoint this way to show the ardure of my flame,  
Which by no common action could be witnessed.  
To that you urge, add this: I know I am  
Inferior to my brother in skill and strength;  
Yet what to others have been bars in combats,  
To me prove arguments impulsive.  
In short, the Deity that I adore's profaned,  
Contempt and scorn thrown on her:  
If by a feeble arm she right herself,  
It more does manifest her power;  
However I shall fall, since hers, a happy  
Sacrifice.  Clo. 
Hold! rather a wretch profane, and most  
Injurious to that Deity, to whom thy false  
And counterfeit devotion seems directed.  Clar. 
O you Gods! Grant thyself mad, rather  
Prove such; or by what's dearest to me,  
I'll pierce thy heart.  Clo. 
Do so.  Clar. 
Ha!  Clo. 
I shall be known.  Clar. 
Have I not seen a face resembling this?  Clo. 
Does the guilt with which I justly tax you,  
Abate your rage? let Gods and men hear what  
I urge, nay, your own conscience be a Judge;  
And if I then be found injurious, kill me;  
No hand is fit to give conclusion  
To my misery.  Clar. 
How am I lost! this is no time for talk:  
Soldiers, remove him.  Clo. 
Hear me!  Clar. 
Away with him.  Clo. 
By what you hold the dearest, I conjure you  
Hear me! Deny that, and so make good  
All I accuse you of.— This is some hope  
He knows me not.  Clar. 
If I consent, by the same power  
You may command me cease the combat.  Clo. 
I swear the contrary.  Clar. 
Be brief then; and for this interruption,  
Soldiers, I conjure you by your oath  
To kill him when the combat's ended,  
My innocence acquits you from his blood.  Clo. 
Answer me then, you that pretend yourself  
So great a Votary to Love, and friend to  
Justice: Is't lawful for any who is not  
A Priest, to offer sacrifice?  Clar. 
None may.  Clo. 
What warrant for your present action then,  
To sacrifice your brother, or yourself?  
If you allege, your love must know  
No limits, are you not then profane?  
But grant your youth and folly this;  
That love that's so irregular, pays a devotion  
Sure; but where? Not to a Mistress, but vainglory  
And self-conceit. Your Mistress, sure hath no less  
Power with you, you think, then that of Kings  
Over their subjects: Who dare make war  
Without commission from his Prince?  
You cannot boast one from your Mistress;  
When if she be that excellence which you pretend,  
'Tis not unlike she wishes well to him  
Whom you would punish as her enemy:  
Sure she hath cause to hate you for presumption,  
Hippocras and treason: All which, if well considered  
By an impartial Judge, appear to be the  
Groundwork of your present action.  Clar. 
'Tis she; for who could else so powerfully  
Condemn me?  Clo. 
What I have spoke, is in my own defence,  
Who am till now unknown, a brother  
To the injured person; and had there been  
A wrong resented by those that were concerned,  
So far as blood might expiate, my sword  
Of yours in justice had precedence.  Clar. 
She would not have me know her: I must confess  
Your former words have made so deep impression  
In me, by sometime touching upon truth,  
That here the difference with my brother ends.  
But what you last urged concerning the  
Precedence of a brother's sword, I am so far  
From granting, that if my reason  
Cannot alter your opinion, my sword shall force you  
To deny it, when time doth better fit.  Clo. 
Most gladly.  Clar. 
In how poor things does she and Fortune  
Give me power to server her!  K. 
Most excellent Prince! how much we all do own  
You for our present happiness!  Age. 
For me, I hold my Crown, my life, nay more,  
Possession of my fair Austella.  K. 
Since by the mercy of the Gods, the storm  
That hung over our heads threatening blood  
And ruin, is thus removed; let us with joyful  
Hearts haste to the Temple, and there by  
Hecatombs of sacrifice express our thanks:  Clo. 
Whilst I  
That cause this joy, prepare to die:  Clar. 
O thou great Deity, observe her scorn!  
What I have done, was fore-designed by thee:  
Revenge! but let her punishment prove love of me.  Exeunt omnes. 
FINIS.   

Epilogue, to the King.  
IF what hath been presented to your sense  
You do approve, thank your own influence;  
Which moving in the story that you told,  
Infused new heat into a brain grown cold.  
Thus far our hopes: But now just fears begin,  
For much that is left out, for more brought in;  
But since all change was to the better meant,  
Although we fail, yet pardon for th' intent.  
Such sweet indulgence from good natures fall,  
But the strict critic will for censure call.  
We would please both; and since we want the art, [knelt]  
Sir, stay the sentence till the second Part:  
Such favour oft your piety let's fall  
Upon delinquents no less criminal.  
Stay! even in policy your grant is fit;  
Hope quickens, what despair makes dull, the wit:  
Nay, could our Author some new arts display,  
Yet this condemned, you'll slight the second Play.    


PROLOGUE.  
HIgh laboured lines you may expect from those,  
Whose pleasure is their studies: Most here knows  
This Author hunts, and hawks, and feeds his Deer,  
Not some, but most fair days throughout the year.  
Such rude dull heavy Scenes expect you then,  
As after suppers vapours from his pen.  
Would you not ask, Why then does he write Plays,  
Since now great Wits strive for dramatic bays?  
Pardon what's past: That way now counted wit,  
Although enjoined, he'll deal no more in it:  
Since dying to the Stage, his last request  
Is, that you would not like the worst Scenes best.  
If this desire injurious seem to some,  
I wonder not: Divers to Plays do come,  
Not to be pleased, unless the Play be bad;  
So what th' ingenious like, doth make them sad:  
We tax not here their judgement or their wit,  
But that so much ill nature's joined with it.  
Others there be, which like the Austrian race,  
Wit's empire ties alone to those they grace:  
Nay, so opinioned of themselves they be,  
They'll praise things most absurd; and when they see  
Those whose simplicity admires their wit,  
To do the same, they laugh at them and it.  
'Tis not these Bugbears that do haunt the Stage,  
Should fright an Author; since 'tis plain, this Age  
Hath more clear judgements than was ever known:  
But most Apollo's beams break from the throne,  
And with a double sweetness doth invite  
All that have gifts in Verse or Prose, to write.  
Which he would still, but that his period's past;  
For sure you'll find this Play worse than the last.   

THE Passionate Lover, SECOND PART. Act. 1. Scaen. 1.  Enter Cleon and Selina. Sel. 
MY Lord, be confident, thus changed, there's none can know you.  Cle. 
But dare I hope thou hast forgiven me?  Sel. 
The mercy that you shown in unbinding me,  
May well assure you; nor am I ignorant  
How far our passions may transport, aided by hope  
To attain our ends.  Cle. 
But now the current of my love runs in the proper  
Channel, and shall ever centre here, a tribute justly due  
Unto the ocean of thy love: Why did I fond dream  
There was a happiness exceeding this?  [Kisses her] Sel. 
Your Kindness was so great, so unexpected,  
That I am now more yours then ever: I never must  
Forget the pains you took in coming to unbind me,  
Creeping upon your hands, all smeared in blood,  
'Twas well you scaped with life.  Cle. aside. 
Thanks to my privy coat; had I expired  
In such a pious action, yet so I scarcely had  
Deserved forgiveness, much less this sweet continuance  
Of your love, sure to be valued far above Clorinda's hate,  
Whose interest to a Crown made her  
In my ambitious eye appear more beautiful;  
But now, reason commands her yield to thee  
Precedence in my heart.  Sel. 
How easily we give belief to what we wish!  Cle. 
Though the Gods know how all my love is cacelled,  
Justly turned hate to her; yet love and gratitude to thee  
Commands me to attempt the Crown of Burgonia,  
Offered into my hands.  Sel. 
As how offered?  Cle. 
I count it offered, when it appears in reason  
Within the reach of our endeavours: Of ours, I say,  
Mark me, my Queen, in thee it lies to rule me  
And a sceptre.  Sel. 
It is fit the honour of your love should render me  
Conformable to your desires: Name me the way  
To this your happiness, so mine.  Cle. 
The seeming pious Druid here our Host,  
I have discovered to have been a Mountebank  
Physician; yet now disguised, esteemed by all  
This Country a holy and most sacred person,  
With whom the Gods are conversant here in this solitary  
Melancholy Grove. By him with gold corrupted,  
I doubt not to effect revenge against Agenor  
For this wound most basely given me:  
Dispatch his brother Clarimant; nay even Clorinda  
(As witness of my love to thee) shall likewise bleed.  
This done, and this is in thy power to effect,  
Is not the Kingdom of Burgonia mine  
By right of blood?  Sel. 
'Tis certain, they removed, you are the next.  Cle. 
Consider then, my dear Selina, what 'tis to be a Queen.  Sel. 
A Queen!  Cle. 
Take but these thoughts into thy soul,  
And there's no action difficult or dangerous:  
But we have only shadows to encounter with,  
The issue real pleasures.  Sel. 
I must yield; dispose me, sir, which way you please.  Cle. 
That resolution does already crown thee.  Sel. 
I would not have you think it is my ambition,  
But my love engages me; but yet I fear.  Cle. 
What can you doubt?  Sel. 
Swear sir by the immortal Gods,  
To make me privy to all your actions;  
And when you have attained the Crown, to marry me,  
So to remove some jealousies.  Cle. 
I do by all that's sacred; nothing but death  
Shall part us; this kiss be farther witness—  [Enter Druid.] 
O sir, you are welcome! what news?  Dru. 
I have no leisure now to tell you:  
I must disguise to entertain some curious  
And devout people.  Exit Dru. Cle. 
He every day goes to the City  
In a several shape, so to enable himself  
To appear more knowing here: I wonder much  
None of the Court are so zealous to visit him,  
At least to know their fortunes,  
For he delivers oracles as from the Gods.  Sel. 
No doubt there are; but now the present time  
Affords so much discourse of other people's  
Fortunes, that they neglect the knowledge  
Of their own.  Cle. 
To know the fate of others,  
Does often give a light to ours:  
At least let us be diligent, whose industry  
Can only make us happy: Perform but carefully  
That which I shall impart,  
And thou shalt have a Crown to crown thy art.  Exeunt. Enter King, Prince, and Attendants. K. 
Most noble Prince! though you may well believe  
The forces you have brought unto my aid  
I shall not use, yet I must ever be ambitious  
To requite that love which caused your diligence;  
Nay, I shall think my happiness defective,  
Although great, till fortune point some way  
Wherein I may express my gratitude to you.  Pr. 
Most royal Sir! fortune hath been to me  
Auspicious, more than had I proved Austela's  
Choice; and this expression you have made,  
Emboldens me to let you know wherein.  K. 
Sir, I beseech you name it.  Pr. 
Know sir, not my ambition to enjoy your Kingdom,  
Can so far blind my judgement, but that I ever  
Found your younger daughter Olinda, in herself,  
The more deserving love, especially from me.  
I would not, sir, say more, lest I should seem  
To boast a happiness which merit never can attain  
But by infinity of service, and much suffering.  K. 
Indeed I did observe, whilst you were in my Court,  
You much more did converse with her then with Austela,  
Who ever was reserved. If Olinda's affability  
Have gained your good opinion, your courtship hers,  
It is a happiness beyond which I dare not expect.  
If it be less than this, and that by the freedom  
Of her humour you believe your interest greater  
Than indeed it is; yet there will only be  
Better occasion for my love to show itself.  Pr. 
My actions shall ever witness for me  
How I prise your royal favour.  Exeunt. Enter Clindor and 1. 1. 
Did you not lately murmur against peace,  
Cried up war as the only blessing?  Clind. 
Yes, I did so.  1. 
I scarce remember your sword did ever purchase  
Such gay Caparisons.  Clind. 
I see thou art a very simple Fellow:  
This is the harvest of the war; the King  
Whom we did terrify, made Presents unto us  
Commanders. If thou canst show me where Soldiers  
Are made much of in cold blood, than I will  
Magnify thy mouldy mistress, Peace:  
Till then, Bellona, thou art my Patroness.  1. 
Thou talkest as if thou hadst done some mighty  
Matters; and yet I fear thou art a Coward.  Clind. 
I love you, sir, too well to let you suffer  
Such a grief as fear, for me: Draw.  1. 
Draw! are you mad? or is your wit so great To spoil  
Your memory? were not two shot to death that were  
Seen fight?  Clind. 
Very pretty, you grow valiant to abuse me,  
Because their valour found a punishment.  
The Prince! Justice, sir, I beseech you.  Enter Clarimant and Attendants. Clar. 
For what, or against whom?  Cli. 
He told me, sir, he thought I was a Coward.  Clar. 
Perhaps you have given him cause to think so.  Clind. 
Better and better! But sir, may men speak all they think?  Clar. 
Why not? I do so, and never will again Dissemble.  Clind. 
But may I, sir?  Clar. 
Yes, so it be not blasphemy or treason.  Clind. 
How, sir, do you distinguish treason?  Clar. 
Look what the Law says,  Clind. 
Pox on the Law!  Clar. 
How?  Clind. 
I cry your Highness mercy; I had forgot the Law was so  
Near kin to you: This scurvy fellow has made me mad.  Clar. 
You would not live without law.  Clind. 
No, I beseech your Highness grant me the Law.  Clar. 
Most willingly.  Clind. 
The law of Arms, sir, and let him prove me a Coward  [He draws] 
Before your Highness, and see how I will defend myself.  Clar. 
I know not how in justice I can pardon this Unless I do pronounce you mad.  Clind. 
I do beseech your Highness do so.  Clar. 
Sure you are mad.  Clind. 
Then I may kill this Rascal, and your law cannot  
hang me.  [Offers to strike] Clar. 
Bind him, to prevent mischief.  Clind. 
Any thing to save my honour; let me not have my hands  
Loose; wear a sword, and be called Coward!  Clar. 
He did but think so.  Cli. 
Let him not think aloud then in my hearing.  Clar. 
Come, I will end the difference; I do pronounce  
you are no Coward, and him a fool for thinking so.  
Be friends.  Clind. 
Not with a fool; you shall excuse me sir▪  Ex. Cli. etc. Clar. 
Be gone, and leave me.  
Why do I give this intermission to my sorrows?  
Clorinda's pleased I should be miserable:  
since in no other way, in that I will content her.  
but this obedience yields a satisfaction;  
and satisfaction fits not perfect sufferings▪  
Which she the perfectest of creatures feels.  
I can no more admit to be less miserable  
then my Mistress, than I could be content to be  
More happy; is there no way to change my fate  
With hers? O no, her torment rises from the  
falsehood of her Lover, where she had placed her joys:  
Mine, in the not attaining of a Love  
Where I dare not pretend to merit:  
I am a happy man, if by comparison I judge:  Enter Agenor, Austella. Age. 
Still alone, dear brother!  Au. 
Most noble sir, why do you thus retire yourself  
From those who know no satisfaction  
Greater than your company? I must pretend  
The interest of a sister now; you shall not  
Hid your passion, nor the cause from me,  
I know 'tis Love.  Clar. 
Madam, it is confessed: But since despair  
Is, and must ever be the only issue of my love,  
I would not have those I esteem  
Engaged with me in misery.  Au. 
Can you be so unjust to your own merits  
To despair?  Clar. 
So just to her perfections.  Au. 
If not a Judge of this, at least make me  
Your Advocate: yet all my eloquence  
Will rest in showing her the happiness  
That she refuses.  Clar. 
Madam, she is not capable of any increase,  
She's dead to me and all mankind.  Au. 
How mean you? by a figure, or dead indeed?  Age. 
I'll take her off from this discourse,  
Lest she discover Clorinda in disguise.  
Dear Austella, in vain you strive to comfort him,  
That can know none, his Mistress dead.  Au. 
Rather in vain I strive to know what both  
Resolve to hid from me: It was not curiosity, sir▪  
But a desire to serve you: That belief  
Will speak my pardon.  Exit▪ Age. 
I fear she is displeased.  Clar. 
Reason hath too much power over her soul  
To be displeased without a cause: I hold her  
Every way so perfect, that I durst make  
A full discovery, crave her assistance;  
But than Clorinda would more justly hate.  Age. 
O brother, speak no more of hate; it is impossible,  
If ever she did love me. You have my Intrust,  
But much more prevailing must your unequalled merit  
Prove.  Clar. 
Merit! dear brother, it is impossible:  
Since what I have done, or shall ever do,  
Grows from her influence upon me.  Age. 
I see that I am yet to learn what it is  
To be a perfect Lover.  Clar. 
Rather you have not practised what you know.  Age. 
Brother, I must confess it is my shame,  
Though not my grief, since my inconstancy  
Hath made me but more happy.  Clar. 
How!  Age. 
Frown not: I mean more happy,  
As my inconstancy leaves you Clorinda free;  
And if she prove averse to your desires,  
Her constancy to me admits of a just censure,  
Not applause.  Clar. 
If you believe you have a power in her  
After your breach of faith, such as may aid me  
In my love; she is not that perfection  
That I adore, and by such yielding  
Can not make me happy.  Age. 
Then you propose a love without a possibility  
Of satisfaction.  Clar. 
Yes, if it suit not with her excellence:  
The Gods sometimes appoint us such sad fates,  
That 'tis our duty to pursue and glory in our misery.  Age. 
I see a miracle must make you happy:  
Be not displeased that I invoke the Deity  
In your behalf; and Brother, know that those  
Who would be held the most devout,  
Esteem things just and worthy, because they do  
Proceed from a divine power; not that they are  
Agreeing to our faith, or understanding.  Clar. 
Brother, what you would undertake in my behalf  
Becomes your love to offer, but not mine to accept.  
A person truly humbled by sense of his unworthiness,  
Sure dares not hope: And to admit an Advocate,  
Supposes that; nay merit in himself, or in the  
Intercessor; or which is worse, an easiness  
To be overcome with words. Any of this  
Is such impiety my love cannot be guilty of:  
Her being his perfection, all things great or good,  
Clorinda named, in that is understood.  Exeunt. Enter Prince, and Olinda. Pr. 
Dear Lady, let me know how I have lost  
Your favour.  Ol. 
First let me know why you believe you  
Ever had it?  Pr. 
When I was here a suitor to your sister,  
You did not then look with such scorn upon me.  Ol. 
Be so again to any other, and I will give you cause  
To think me every whit as kind.  
Here you discourse of Love; express a sense  
Of what you do prosess to suffer by way of  
Martyrdom, perhaps accompanied with a sad sigh  
Or two.  Pr. 
And can you yet be crueler? when you yourself  
Have caused a nobler passion than what I made  
But show of to Austela.  Ol. 
It seems than you can counterfeit.  Pr. 
I must confess; but yet—  Ol. 
Nay spare excuses: As I live, I like you the better  
For it; and if you love me now, know this to comfort you,  
We only can agree in being dissemblers.  Offers to go. Enter Clorinda and Selina, (as in discourse.) Olind. 
Most noble sir! methinks my Genius  
Should have informed me the happiness of your approach;  
And yet 'tis fit I leave you now,  
But there does stay my best of wishes.  Exit. Sel. 
She had like to have said, her heart:  
Alas poor Lady, how love does fool thee!  Pr. 
It must be so; this stranger is the cause  
Of her neglect to me: With what unwillingness  
She parted from him! I will not, cannot suffer  
This second affront; I shall become the scorn  
Of all men.  Exit, and justles Clorinda. Clo. 
What means this!  
But why, Selina, when I called,  
Came you not to help me?  Sel. 
Alas, Madam, I was fast.  Clo. 
Can you so quickly be so sound asleep?  Sel. 
Weary with travel. But, Madam, what said Agenor,  
(The King I now must call him) when he perceived  
It was Lord Cleon, his trusted friend,  
That he had slain?  Clo. 
He does not know it yet, nor ever shall:  
For since his passion to me procured his death,  
His faults be buried with him: Besides, I know  
It would have been no little torment to Agenor  
To find such falsehood.  Sel. 
Is it possible that you can yet consider him,  
Otherwise then to revenge his falsehood?  Clo. 
If thou hadst ever truly loved,  
Thou couldst not ask me such a question: Clarimant!  
I must not stay.  Enter Clarimant. Clar. 
Sir, though you have hitherto found means to avoid me,  
Yet having now the opportunity,  
I needs must press you to a short discourse,  
And such a one as will require the absence  
Of your servant.  Clo. 
I must obey necessity: Leave me.  Sel. 
Is it possible he does not know her?  Exit Sel. Clar. 
I see you wear a sword, and make no question  
But you know, or think you do, how to maintain  
With it the assertions of your tongue.  Clo. 
In what?  Clar. 
Is it possible that you can ask? yet since I must,  
I will refresh your memory, and whet my own revenge  
By repetition. You, as a brother, did pretend  
You had more interest to right Clorinda's wrongs,  
Then I her servant.  Clo. 
And proved it, did I not?  Clar. 
In part the oratory of your tongue prevailed,  
And I condemned myself; but honour forced me  
Make appeal unto my sword, and there you must  
O'ercome me too, before I quit so dear a cause.  [draws] Clo. 
Truth told me then, and bids me still maintain  
That I am most concerned in what Clorinda suffers:  [Draws too] Clar. 
Your resolution pleases above expression:  
Which forces me an enemy to beg the favour  
To kiss that hand, though it may prove to me  
An instrument of death.  Clo. 
Keep off; I dare not trust a reconciled foe,  
Much less an enemy professed. Employ your sword,  
Whose force I fear less than the empoisoned flattery  
Of your tongue.  Clar. 
Then guard yourself, your breast lies open.  Clo. 
You shall not find it so, if you dare strike.  Clar. 
Alas it is too true; you have a guard which I  
Can never force; and since invisible, it is fit I yield;  
Here to confess myself o'ercome, is to triumph.  
But if you hold your victory your shame, which much I fear,  
Then purge that stain with my heartblood,  
A sacrifice most justly due to your disdain.  Clo. 
A coward's blood can have no virtue in it.  [Offers to go] Clar. 
Stay.  Clo. 
Employ your sword then, and nobly take revenge  
Upon your enemy: I swear, that act  
Will with me raise you to the highest estimation.  Clar. 
O Clorinda! that word pronounced,  
Think what you do enjoin me.  Clo. 
I feared before you knew me,  
But thought it fit to practise the masculine part  
I am to play, with you, then with another:  
Perhaps with some I have to do, where my  
Discovery is my ruin. Thus much, confident  
Of your esteem, I dare discover.  Clar. 
What music's in these words!  Clo. 
Trust me, Prince Clarimant, I am much pleased  
To see you.  Clar. 
Madam, assure me that I do not dream.  Clo. 
Believe me every sense is free,  
Only your joy is too much raised.  Clar. 
Too much! when you speak to me, and not in anger.  Clo. 
Contain yourself; for know 'tis in your Power  
To make me happy.  Clar. 
In mine! witness you Gods  
There is no bar betwixt you and your wish.  Clo. 
None but your will.  Clar. 
My will! That, and my other faculties  
Were ever yours.  Clo. 
Swear it.  Clar. 
By all that's sacred, it is and ever shall be so;  
For you can will nothing but what is just  
And noble.  Clo. 
My will then is, to which yours must assent,  
That you do kill me.  Clar. 
How!  Clo. 
A miserable life considered, death is the happiness  
Opposed: That you must give me, or be perjured.  Clar. 
That Clarimant should kill Clorinda!  
Self-murder is esteemed the highest guilt,  
And yet this doubles it: I am deluded  
By some spirit; for what proportion  
Bears this imposition to your excellent sweetness?  Clo: 
It bears proportion to my sorrows.  Clar. 
Can death be granted as your only remedy,  
Yet that my hand should give it!  Clo. 
Those servants are esteemed the truest,  
That do the last and greatest offices of duty.  
Having no love to pay your vows of service,  
My gratitude proposed this as your recompense.  Clar. 
O heavens! was ever gratitude so cruel!  Clo. 
Will you not then obey me, nor your oath?  
Is this the fruit of all your protestations?  Clar. 
Is not my will the same with yours?  
You would not live, nor I then.  Clo. 
Kill me, and then do what you please.  Clar. 
The same say I; kill me, and then do what you please:  Clo. 
Your vow was not to echo my desire,  
But to obey what I enjoind.  Clar. 
It is true, in what was just and noble.  Clo. 
Is it not so to relieve a friend distressed?  
Your oath passed too?  Clar. 
No friend will ask, for shame,  
The help does refuse to give.  Clo. 
The guilt remains with the first breach, and that was yours.  Clar. 
Alas, you press what no example yet came near,  
To kill that person that I value more  
Than all the world.  Clo. 
No doubt brave Brutus' servant loved his Master;  
Yet killed him, being commanded.  Clar. 
Perhaps he was his slave, and gained his  
Freedom by it.  Clo. 
And shall not you do so? A freedom from the bonds  
Of Love, the Tyrant-master that I fly. But did not  
Herod  
Doom to death in one his Wife and Mistress,  
Lest any other should enjoy her?  
And this caused from excess of Love.  Clar. 
Unto himself, as I dare never hope  
To be so happy to have his interest,  
So I shall never fear his punishment. [knelt]  
This is that posture which my former vows  
Best suit withal: Nor am I humbled thus,  
To beg for pity to myself but you,  
Divine Clorinda! who ought to be  
As far from thought of punishment,  
As you are free from guilt.  Clo. 
False perjured man! I can be free from neither,  
Whilst I stay here.  Clar. 
O misery! was ever man so wretched!  
In the performing what she should command,  
I still have placed my only hopes of merit.  
Sure fate did never yet to any Lover  
Put so hard a part,  
To disobey, or pierce his Mistress heart.  Exit.  

Act. 2. Scaen. 1.  Enter Austela, Clorinda. Au. 
COme sir, you must not be so sad:  
Sure there is some strange sympathy betwixt  
Prince Clarimant and you.  Clo. 
No sympathy at all, if he have any cause  
Of grief; mine's merely natural.  Au. 
I find you dissemble with me:  
Your griefs have such resemblance, that knowing his  
Is Love, I am assured yours is the same.  Clo. 
Love! I honour all the sex, yet never knew  
That passion for a woman.  Au. 
I must confess that you have in yourself  
So much of beauty, that looking in your glass,  
It is not like you should be taken with another's form:  
But yet take heed, the Gods may punish pride.  Clo. 
To be such, is a punishment so great,  
The Gods can add no more.  Au. 
The interest you have in the King, hath made me  
Study your content: I find my sister loves you;  
And what her blushes will not let her speak,  
I must.  Clo. 
If she herself should tell me so, it were fit for me  
To think she said it to make sport, knowing  
My own unworthiness.  Au. 
How slow soever you are of belief,  
must make known a Lady's passion to you  
Every way your equal.  Clo. 
I have not seen that person, sure.  Au. 
What do you think of me?  Clo. 
You! as of the soul of all perfection,  
And only worthy him you do enjoy.  Au. 
I must not think my beauty worth esteem:  
For, gaining him, there is a conquest, which obtained,  
Deserves a triumph. That blush shows you conceive me.  Clo. 
Madam, it is impossible I should understand  
A speech so disagreeing to that character  
I had received.  Au. 
It will be unjust to value me the less  
For my esteem of you.  Clo: 
Of me!  Enter Agenor. Au. 
Know, gentle Youth, not all the ties of duty  
Have power to bar me the expressions of love,  
That grows from such perfections as the world  
Never knew: hid not that lovely face,  
Which even the King beholding, must excuse me.  Age. 
Thou liest, false woman.  Clo. 
O Agenor! I never wished thee half so miserable.  Au. 
Why do you turn away? What, weep! Is my love  
Such an injury? Or if some word have passed my lips,  
That moved this passion, my lips shall satisfy  
By taking off these tears.  Age. 
I can endure no more:  
Just heavens, how my inconstancy is punished!  Exit. Au. 
Clear up those Suns, and let them gently shine upon me,  
Or I am lost for ever! Not moved with all my  
Courtship,  
Continue thus unkind, insensible of a Queen's love,  
And I shall think you are no man.  Clor. 
The weakness of my passion hath discovered me:  
Madam, such an excess of happiness  
To be thus favoured by you, produced this passion;  
Tears are as well the effect of joy as sorrow.  Au. 
A woman, I am confident! Now I can read it  
In her face, sir. I accept of your excuse,  
But than you must forgo this sadness.  Clo. 
Madam, all other thoughts but the consideration  
Of your favour, are henceforth banished.  Au. 
I yet am something doubtful of your professions,  
You may confirm me.  Clo. 
As how?  Au. 
Sure you have a Mistress, some in the Court  
That you do love.  Clo. 
None, trust me.  Au. 
Then you do love the King so much, that you hate me  
For my inconstancy, you may forgive it, I know he will;  
He thinks it is no vice, rather a virtue,  
To have choice of Mistresses.— Why do you sigh?  
This touches; nay, now you break your promise.  Clo. 
Madam, I am not well.  Au. 
Will you rest yourself upon my bed?  
I'll call the King, than you will be well,  
It is he must cure you, Lady.  Clo. 
Lady! O my heart— [Swoons]  Au. 
What have I done? ho, some Cordial quickly!  
Help—  Enter two Women. 
Madam, he recovers.  Au. 
Lay him upon my bed, gently for heaven's sake!  Exit woman and Clor. 
In this discovery I my end obtain,  
But make provision for my future pain.  
Such fruit our jealousy produces still:  
Better not know, then know the worst of ill.  Exit. Enter Clindor and a Gentleman. Clind. 
Pray you sir, shall I make bold to ask a question?  Gent. 
A dozen, if you please.  Clind. 
You are courteous. Why was the King sent for by the  
Queen in such haste?  Gent. 
I must not tell you that.  Clind. 
Perhaps you cannot.  Gent. 
I cannot, sir, be ignorant.  Clind. 
O, wondrous easy; perhaps the King knew not  
The cause himself.  Gent. 
It may be so; Kings know not all things.  Clind. 
You do, it seems.  Gent. 
Seem, sir!  Clind. 
Nay, be not angry; you promised largely.  Gent. 
I promised nothing.  Clind. 
'Tis true; and nothing I expect. So far you well.  Gent. 
Remember, sir, I only gave you leave to ask.  Clind. 
'Tis true, I cry you mercy:  
Then I May ask one question more.  Gent. 
You may ask any thing.  Clind. 
Do you not think I had ill luck  
To find a man so overwise for my Informer.  Gent. 
Troth sir—  Clind. 
You need not answer, I am already  
Satisfied.  Gent. 
I see you know not me,  
You are a shallow fellow.  Clind. 
And you so deep a puddle,  
No plummet can find the bottom;  
You have no ground, sir: So far you well,  
My cautious Monsieur.  Exeunt▪ Enter Agenor and Clorinda. Age. 
O dear Clorinda! how powerfully thy beauties  
Now present themselves, and minute gather strength  
By these thy sufferings! What cause hast thou and I  
To curse my base inconstancy?  Clo. 
How sir! are you so ingrate to heaven,  
That for your sake favoured that vice so far,  
To give it the reward of virtue, happiness?  
And that so great in your Austela,  
That all men else are poor compared.  Enter Austela. Age. 
My Austela!  Au: 
It is well I am denied then▪  Age. 
Did she not court you as a man?  
The heart she took from me, through you could not  
Receive, your sex denying Entertain,  
Is yet so tainted in the tender of it,  
That I for ever must repent the change  
I made: O Clorinda! would this hand  
When it was joined in hers, had rotten off.  Clo. 
Do you believe to cure inconstancy  
And breach of faith, by new inconstancy?  
I see it was a vice dwelled in your blood.  Age. 
It is no inconstancy, to cast an eye back  
On your virtue, too late instructed  
By present misery.  Clo. 
It is enough; this does express how miserable  
You might have been: But know your happiness is perfect.  
The Queen prompted by jealousy, the fruit of  
Ardent love, suspected me a woman,  
And your former Mistress, and took this way of courting me  
To be assured.  Age▪ 
Your virtue bids you make this fair construction.  [Ent. Austel.] Clo. 
She comes! her sight begets new trouble;  
Would I had changed this habit for my winding-sheet.  Au. 
Sir, I am glad to find my chamber can afford you  
So good company.  Clo. 
Absence at any rate! I must be gone:  
Your majesty's pardon.  Exit. Au. 
It seems you have cured him.  Age▪ 
You made him sick; had I not reason?  
It is fit I remedy your errors.  Au. 
You have so many of your own,  
It will take your time up.  Age. 
But there's one especially that troubles me.  Au. 
You would change a wife, would you not?  Age. 
Do your thoughts prompt you to that question?  Au. 
It is time when you deny me.  Age. 
There was a time I might.  Au. 
Had your hand rotten off, the present trouble  
Had been saved: You are an unconstant man;  
Which granted, both are miserable.  Age. 
Both are no less in being jealous,  
Which you must grant you are.  Au. 
Having such cause, love could not be without it.  Age. 
But having certainty that virtue is gone,  
Love ceasing▪ ends that trouble.  Au. 
The object of our guilt, shall be our Judge.  Age. 
I do not understand your riddle: who do you mean?  Au. 
One, that to me cannot be partial▪ your Mistress.  Age. 
Your servant.  Au. 
Yes, Clorinda.  Age. 
But do you think that you stand clear in honour.  Au. 
You cannot hope it sure; but there's the more  
For me to pardon: Come, all your passages of love  
Are plain; yours, and your brother Clarimants.  
Persuade Clorinda that I think her still a man,  
Lest modesty make her forsake the Court,  
And both use means to make her love your brother.  
These little quarrels, where the hearts are good,  
The body of our Love keeps firm, like letting blood.  Enter Clindor, and 1. 1. 
Come. thou shalt lend me ten Crowns;  
As I am an honest man, I'll pay thee.  Clind. 
Gain that opinion with me first:  
You see the Money's ready.  1. 
Why, thou hast known me long,  
Did I ever deceive thee.  Clind. 
No, for I ever took thee for a Shark:  
A Fellow too, that would abuse me  
In my poverty, in words.  1. 
It was but in Merriment; I swear I ever  
Loved thee truly.  Clind. 
Yes, and I will requite it; I know that money  
Would but dull your Wit, spoil Industry:  
I find it by myself, that care keeps close  
My Purse.  1. 
Refuse a Comrade little coin:  
'Tis poor.  Clind 
But yet the custom of the Rich, and things  
Must be proportioned to our Fortune.  1. 
'Tis well Fortune and you are friends;  
That makes you proud.  Clind. 
I have a sense of her great benefits, I were a Fool else.  1. 
Well! I may live to repay this scorn.  Clind. 
Yes, sooner than the Money you would borrow;  
Which makes me ask not Bond.  1. 
Come, prithee supply me, and leave fooling.  Clind. 
Spare your own pains, Sir, you have done enough.  1: 
As I am clad, I am not fit for any honest company.  Clind. 
Nor clothed in Scarlet trust me.  1. 
You are a base Fellow: the Tide may turn.  Clind. 
O admirable fruit of poverty! Valour infused I vow:  
Yet remember, Friend, quarrels are dangerous.  1. 
Tell me of danger—  Clind. 
I cry you mercy, Sir; I had forgot you were poor.  
Nay, if you be outrageous, I must leave you.  1. 
We shall meet again.  Exit. Clind. 
Yes, no doubt on't; how calm and temperate  
Will Money make one: a man might almost pull me  
By the Nose, yet I not angry; such admirable satisfactions  
Here.—  [Enter Selina 
This Youth I have seen oft, had a strange  
Mind to talk to him; yet still the brat avoids me.  
Stay my pretty knave, shall I borrow a word or two  Sel. 
On good security you will ask no more.  Clind. 
Why is your Mistress staying for you in the Lobby?  Sel. 
If she were, what would you give to supply my room?  Clind. 
I do believe what ever it were, she would repay the sum.  Sel. 
O fie! you look not like an amourist; that face would fright her.  Clind. 
A martial one: Adonis was not always favourite,  
Mars had his turn.  Sel. 
Were you that Deity? your reign is out.  Clind. 
But I can prove a Jupiter, and court your  
Mistress in a shower  
Of gold; and that, I take it, in all times is powerful  
More than your face.  Sel. 
Descend, descend, and show yourself a simple Mortal▪  
Else I shall leave you.  Clind. 
Tell me first what Country you are of;  
My mind gives me I have seen that face.  Sel. 
You have a foolish mind that does abuse you,  
So far you well.  Clind. 
And so have you a foolish tongue that does betray you;  
A certain coy disdainful look too, that styles you woman.  Sel. 
How sir! you shall find me masculine; take that.  [Strikes him] Clind. 
This cannot hid you; confess your sex and name,  
Or by this light I will untruss your points,  
And then you know what follows.  Sel. 
Sir, you in this restraint preserve my modesty,  
It was my desire that you should know me:  
I dare not say you are the cause of this disguise,  
Yet you may think your pleasure.  Clind. 
Now by this light have I mind to beat thee  
As a man, for all the scorns thou hast put upon me:  
For as a woman I am sure thou wilt abuse me,  
Especially if thou pretendest to love me.  Sel. 
Your scorn's so just, that I must suffer it:  [Seems to weep] Clind. 
How! let's see; no moisture! spare, spare your  
Linen, good Selina.  Sel. 
Oh whither shall I fly to hid my shame!  Clind. 
Even to your mask and petticoat: Carry your bum  
A little out, you will need no farthingale a while.  Sel. 
Alas sir you mistake, I have no other burden  
But my sorrows; from those you only can deliver me.  Clind. 
Bar marriage, and I will be your midwife:  
Where lie you?  Sel. 
As you have honour in you, do not discover me,  
Hereafter you shall know.  Exit Clindor. Enter Clorinda (with a paper) and Olinda. Clo. 
Madam, having received such testimonies  
Of your favour, I could not leave the Court  
Even in civility, till I had kissed your fair hand.  Olind. 
What sad things do you utter! It is not possible,  
You do but fright me sure.  Clo. 
Necessity enforces; for I shall leave behind  
That which I value far above myself.  Olin. 
Does the King and Queen know what you do intent?  Clo. 
They must not.  Olin 
Your resolution is full of cruelty;  
That though you do oblige me by imparting it,  
Yet I must fail your trust, and give them notice.  Clo. 
For your own sake you must not: this paper,  
I being gone, will let you know a secret  
That concerns your happiness, and by my stay  
You will be miserable.  Olin. 
Alas, that is impossible:  
To have your company, includes all joys.  Clo. 
Since you esteem it so, if I live I will return.  Olin. 
How soon?  Clo. 
In a short time; but if you read this paper  
Yet this two days, when I come back you have my curse.  
Weep not dear Lady, yield me the honour  
Of your hand.  [Enter Prince] Ol. 
O me most wretched! you shall not go,  
I die if you thus leave me.  Clo. 
Alas I must.  Pr. 
Madam, I cannot choose but wonder  
To see you court a Boy thus.  Ol. 
My wonder is greater at your arrogance  
And ignorance, to tutor me, and slight a person  
Then yourself more worthy.  Pr. 
What's this?  Clo. 
From him I may receive that death I seek:  
Defend yourself.  Ol. 
Ah me! help, help! oh help Prince Clarimant,  
The gentle Youth is hurt.  Enter Clarimant. Clar. 
Hurt!  
O heavens, grant me a little space.  Clar. fights with the Prince, beats him off, returns wounded, and knelt to Clorinda. Clo. 
Why this to me?  Clar. 
To ask your pardon, that he lives  
That drew that precious blood.  Clo. 
I grieve your hurt, yet thank you not for interposing.  Enter Agenor and Attendants. 
My Brother wounded! speak, by whom? A surgeon, quick.  Sel. 
The Prince of Aquitain.  Age. 
Make after, seize him:  
Dear Clarimant, how is it with you?  Clar. 
Well; happy to die for such a cause.  Au. 
You Gods extend your pity: O dear Clorinda!  
Pour some balm into his wounds.  Age. 
One word from you may clear his fainting spirits.  Clo 
Heaven knows I wish his life more than mine own.  Age. 
We must do more than wish.  Clar. 
Although my reason tells me that I own my thanks  
To your despair, yet the sound comforts me:  
O there bestow your cure! my cure lies there.  Au. 
Thou soul of Lovers, in thee dwells such truth,  
Well may thy merit save our faithless Youth.  Exeunt.  

Act. 3. Scaen. I.  Enter King, Agenor. Age. 
IS there no news? what is become of this rude Prince?  K. 
You need not seek for him; his wounds and his disgrace  
Are punishment enough.  Age. 
My reason now does tell me so; but had my brother's  
Wounds proved mortal, no corner of the earth  
Should hid him from my revenge.  K. 
I cannot choose but grieve the sad accident;  
Yet know I am obliged in honour, he coming  
To my rescue with such a powerful Fleet,  
To look with less severity upon his fault:  
Besides, which happily you know not,  
I gave him leave to be a suitor to my daughter.  Age. 
His punishment would be so great to see Clorinda,  
As herself whom he would then have wounded  
As his rival, that I confess I wish him here.  
Besides, those of his Fleet, or he scaping to  
That, may do some sudden mischief.  K. 
He cannot be so base, your fears are needless.  Exeunt: Enter Clorinda and Austela. Clo. 
Madam, in modesty I could no longer  
Wear the habit of a man, once known a woman:  
But humbly I beseech you on my knees,  
〈◊〉 you respect the honour of our sex,  
When you return, to licence my departure  
From the Court; since misery and discontent  
dwells here, though I were circled in  
With all those honours you or the King can grant.  Aust. 
I must confess I am made happy by your misery,  
And therefore hold myself obliged to study always  
For your satisfaction. But know, besides this tie,  
I have so great opinion of your merit,  
Hold it so far to exceed mine, that I am confident  
The Gods reserve for you a greater blessing than Agenor,  
A person tainted in his faith.  Clo. 
Although your own, I must not suffer  
Such an undervalue of the King, whose worth is such,  
So far exceeding all, that it admits of an allay.  
Here it was not so, rather addition;  
A change produced by such perfection,  
Is not to be esteemed inconstancy, but wisdom:  Au. 
It is not now, rather hereafter that I shall return  
This argument upon yourself: Now let us go do  
What charity enjoins.  Clo. 
That and my duty forces me to attend you.  Exeunt. Enter Clarimant and Clindor. Clind. 
How is it with your Highness?  Clar. 
O too well, Clindor: my outward wounds  
Heal much too fast, since these within do fester.  Clind. 
Well sir, you little know what service I may do you.  Clar. 
I know thou hast and wilt be careful of my health.  Cli. 
But sir, I mean that I can serve you in your love.  Clar. 
O Clindor; speak no more; thou troublest me.  Clind. 
Will it trouble you to let you know Clorinda's here?  Clar. 
Here! where?  Clind. 
Not in this room, but in this Country, nay in this Court.  Clar. 
Alas I know it, and so by this does all men.  Clind. 
But do they know Selina's here in habit of a man?  Clar. 
Yes, yes.  Clind. 
But yet they do not know she is in love with me,  
Most desperately too.  Enter two Surgeons. Clar. 
Nor dost thou know it, fool,  
she does abuse thee.  Clind. 
She dares not; by this light I will beat her.—  
The Surgeons, sir, are come to dress you.  Clar. 
Must I be dressed?  Enter Austela, Clorinda, and Olinda. Clind. 
The Queen your sister! Clorinda, as I live, sir.  Clar. 
O fool, thou liest; it is impossible— Can it be she?  Au. 
Brother, how is with you now?  Clar. 
So well, that I could kiss that sword that made these  
Wounds; for I by them receive a benefit  
Which I durst never hope.  Au. 
Come, I must dress your wounds; no common hand  
Is fit to touch you. I know this Lady will apply  
One plaster, since for her sake you did receive  
These wounds.  Clo. 
Led by your example, I am compelled to follow.  Clar. 
You Gods, what happiness is this! may they be long  
A healing, if still this application will continue.  Au. 
Pray not against yourself, heaven is offended,  
Granting your request, I fear; for if I not mistake,  
They bleed afresh. Fair Clorinda,  
These drops express his passion, and your power.  Clo. 
I grieve for both, and know no remedy so good  
As a perpetual absence.  Clar. 
Know dear Clorinda, it was a thankful heart  
That sent those few drops forth to kiss your hand  
For so great favours: your cruel resolution  
Sends them back, their errand scarce performed:  
For see, I bleed no more; but know withal  
'Tis the destruction of the fountain; the coldness  
Of despair must quickly freeze all motion:  Au. 
I own a reverence to that blood upon this hand;  
O let me kiss it as a most sacred relic  
Of the truest Lover the sex did ever boast.  Offers to weep. 
That spot, Clorinda, you may wipe away,  
But never shall the memory of him  
Whom you thus cruelly do murder  
By disdain.  Clo. 
Madam, free from that guilt, I cannot apprehend  
A punishment. The Gods are just; they be my witness  
If I had happiness to give, I should prefer  
This Prince before myself; But I am such a piece  
Of earth, so sunk beneath all joys,  
That should I yield what he can ask,  
Yet I must lie like lead upon his heart.  Au. 
Yet for the present, sure,  
It is fit you speak comfort to him.  Clo. 
Comfort from me! 'tis contradiction  
To my being, who am made up of misery.  Au. 
Pray come near, and speak to him.  Clo. 
I am so careful, that I would not hurt him.  Au. 
Brother, be confident her rigour cannot last,  
I shall persuade her to relent.  Clar. 
O Madam, you mistake; she only hath the beauties,  
And not the weaknesses usually depending on her sex:  
Her resolutions have their ground from reason ever,  
And know no change till it command.  
How can she then esteem the less deserving brother  
Worthy her love, when he that most deserved  
Foully betrayed her? Life could only prove  
No curse, if I might be assured she would  
Forgive the injury she suffers by the trouble  
Of my love; to hope her pity of my torments,  
Is much above my faith.  Clo. 
Madam, too long we have disturbed the Prince;  
Our absence would be more conducing to his health.  Au. 
There is a care his merits methinks should command  
Over your gratitude: which that you not apply,  
Too late you may repent.  Clo. 
I so much wish his health and happiness,  
That I will ever pray that he may never find  
Disquiet thought, and to my prayers likewise add  
My latest counsel: Forget Clorinda, and make her happy.  Clar. 
Forget Clorinda, and make her happy!  
How can I understand this cruel sentence?  Au. 
Waste not your spirits, sir; I think I understand her,  
And it shall not be long ere I procure her  
To explain herself.  Clar. 
You are the comfort of my love, and life.  Exeunt. Enter Prince Cleon. Pr. 
What do I own my stars that did direct me  
To this place, where I find safety for my person,  
Cure for my wounds, and such a friend who chalks me  
Out a way to all I can desire on earth!  Cle. 
Fellow my counsel, and be constant in it,  
You are the master of your wish▪  Pr. 
Constant! can there be other ends proposed  
Powerful to change me? Revenge for my disgrace;  
And the possession of that Kingdom I aimed at  
In Austela, now to prove mine with one I more esteem,  
The fair Olinda. But how when this is done,  
I ever can requite your pains?  Cle. 
It pays itself; and to secure you more  
Of my intention and performance,  
Know I am not the man I have appeared,  
But one whom both revenge and love does likewise  
Animate.—  [Enter Druid.] 
My Instrument returns:  
When we have heard what's his intelligence,  
I will lay myself more fully open,  
And we'll conclude how to pursue what we design.  
What is thy news, good?  Druid. 
As you could wish.  Cle. 
We'll hear't within.  Exeunt. Enter Clorinda and Selina▪ Clo. 
A man so holy and so knowing, sayest thou,  
That can give comforts to all griefs,  
Call back the peace that is fled from any mind?  Sel. 
Certainly, Madam, the spirit of the Gods  
Dwells in him, or rather he is a God descended  
To the earth to comfort the distressed world:  
I am confident, had you but once discoursed with him,  
You would not be thus sad.  Clo. 
O fool! the Gods themselves have not a cure for me  
But death: If he their substitute would give me that,  
Than I would visit him most gladly. Prithee leave me.  Sel. 
Well Madam, I grieve you have not faith  
To trust my words. My words! nay, all the City  
Speaks him Wonderful for sanctity and knowledge.  Clo▪ 
Well, perhaps I will see him: prithee now leave me.  Sel. 
Alas Madam, I cannot, whilst you are thus sad.  Clo. 
I am not so, thou but deceivest thyself;  
Or if I be, company makes me worse.  Sel. 
Madam, since I must, yet still my duty  
Presses you to receive this comfort.  Clo. 
Well, be gone, I will think on it.  Ex. Selina. 
Why do I trifle time out thus, when every hour  
I feel a torment more than death can be?  
Besides, if I were gone; from the impossibility  
To enjoy me, Prince Clarimants affection  
Might abate; and yet when I consider,  
His love appears none of those sickly passions  
Which time can triumph over, since I believe it such,  
Where is my gratitude to see him languish?  
Nay, to see him die? die of those wounds  
That he for me received? I never can forget  
His blood fresh streaming from his wounds  
At my approach; that faithful witness of his joy,  
More worthy of belief, then if a thousand tongues  
Or pens should be employed: I find myself  
More wretched now then ever, fit to die;  
For if I live, I to my own shall add  
His sufferings too: And yet methinks that should be  
Pleasing: To grieve for him, is to discharge  
Part of that debt I own; I would not be ungrateful:  
Live then Clorinda, till thou findest some way  
To make him happy. No, it is impossible,  
Since I cannot be so; yet I may seem content,  
And by that seeming give him real blessing:  
And see, fortune presents an object that confirms my hopes  
It may be done, at least I will endeavour.  Enter Olinda. Olind. 
Dearest Clorinda! not less dear, because a woman;  
For such perfections in a man I solely could not  
Have possessed, my own defects barring that happiness:  
But as a woman sure, none can pretend  
With greater merit to your favour;  
All my wants supplied by my firm love,  
Which cannot know another object then your fair self.  Clo. 
I must esteem myself most happy  
In the continuance of your love,  
Rather your friendship; for all affection  
Is from us proper to the better sex.  Olind. 
Which sure is ours, you being a woman.  Clo. 
Your sister will not grant you that,  
Whose example you ought to follow, in acknowledging  
Love and superiority due to the men,  
Especially such men as the King Agenor  
And his more worthy brother Clarimant.  Olind. 
These words of Clarimant, if heard,  
Would cause a general joy through all the Court:  
But he himself must know his happiness by degrees,  
Lest the excess again disturb his health;  
Since your last visit he is miraculously recovered.  Clo. 
You attribute to me what is more justly due  
Unto the King and Queen's, nay your sweet conversation.  
Methinks you four would be most aptly joined;  
Two brothers and two sisters, whose perfections  
All the world cannot equal.  Olind. 
Dear Clorinda, I must not understand you;  
Or if I do, you have a mean opinion  
Of my judgement, less of my constancy,  
Which did but now profess my heart for ever only yours:  Clo. 
I take for granted that your heart is mine,  
Which I express in that I would dispose it,  
And so I would do my own, if I had any:  
But know that what I once do give I never reassume;  
Or if I had a heart, could that be worthy Clarimant  
Another had despised?  Olind. 
What now you speak to me, expresses your respect to him,  
And so must not displease; for I confess  
His merits are so great, that in his happiness  
All that love virtue must be sharers:  
But I beseech you do not entertain a thought  
That you can breed a change in him or me.  
Dear Clorinda, your virtue and your beauty  
Is the object of our Loves; such a conformity  
As may arise from that, betwixt Prince Clarimant  
And me, is only fit.  Clo. 
I for my part do ask no more, but that your lines  
Of love do meet in me: But reason in him,  
Friendship in you may give me power in time  
To tie a happy knot; this hope the Gods inspire me with.  Olind. 
Take heed, they needs must be offended with you  
For a hope that is so unjust.  Clo. 
Dare you refer yourself unto their sentence?  Olind. 
I dare do any thing that you think fit;  
But this I know you cannot.  Clo. 
Heaven knows that I desire it.  Olind. 
But do not hope it, when two wills oppose you.  Clo. 
Yet when the Gods shall give their sentence,  
Your will and Clarimant's, it all your vows be true,  
Must then submit to mine.  Olind. 
Should we grant our obedience, how have the Gods,  
Or can they unto us declare their will?  Clo. 
That great Deity that did infuse  
A reasonable soul into us mortals,  
Enthroned that Reason as a King to govern  
All our actions. But beyond this I am informed,  
Nor is it possible but you must know it,  
That here without the City in a sacred Grove,  
There lives a man so pious, and so knowing  
The will of heaven, that all men in distress  
Or doubt repair to him, and find a happy issue  
Of their troubles.  Olind. 
It is most true, his fame is great:  
If curiosity do move you to go visit him,  
I gladly will attend you; but since I have resisted  
What you commanded, dear Clorinda,  
No mortal man must change me.  Clo. 
I love this firmness in you; the fit you  
Will prove hereafter for Clarimants affection.  
In hearts of wax, Love easily impressions make,  
But those of diamonds hardly new forms take.  Exeunt. Enter Agenor and Clindor. Age. 
Clindor, I make no doubt your joy is not the least  
To see your Master thus recovered of his wounds.  Clind. 
Faith sir, his outward wounds are pretty well;  
But there's a foolish shaft sticks in his heart.  
The little Archer should be whipped for shooting Soldiers,  
What has he to do with us?  Age. 
He aims still at the noblest marks.  Clind. 
But those, sir, that are wise, wear privy coats,  
And then his darts prove but burbolts, and drop down  
At our feet: And is not that, sir, better than by our whining  
Or in verse or prose, make these she-gossips think themselves  
Our Deities, who by creation rather are our slaves.  Age. 
I see thou art an enemy to Love.  Clind. 
Just as to Idleness: why are we not in arms?  
Methinks there is now a brave occasion.  Age. 
How? we have no enemies▪  Clind. 
Let's make some then: But sir, you have a cause  
Of just revenge against that base Prince which hurt your Brother:  
Let's fall upon his Country, they say a rich one,  
And he no doubt lies here obscured to do some mischief:  
At least let us seize upon his ships here in the road.  Age. 
It were dishonourable:  
He came to the assistance of the King my father,  
And for his sake I rather do desire his friendship,  
However he appears not to receive it.  Clind. 
That shows his hatred; he may be in his Country  
Raising forces to invade your Kingdom in your absence:  
Prevent him sir, and seize on his; it is a shame, sir,  
To lie here hugging a wife, wasting your best of youth  
On poor delights.  Age. 
Thou know'st not what it is to be rich in pleasure.  Clind. 
Yes▪ too have money purchased by my sword.  Age. 
Is it not as well to have it without blows?  Clind. 
Not by the half: If your Majesty should give me now  
A thousand crowns, in the mind I am in,  
I swear I scarce would give you thanks for it.  Age. 
Well Clindor, I had such an intention; but since I see  
It will be no more acceptable, it shall be reserved for some other.  Clind. 
Your Majesty, if you please, may lend me such a sum:  
At the first City taken by assault, I shall pay it.  Age. 
The war is so distant from my thoughts,  
So long I cannot spare it.  Clind. 
Nay, as you please sir, I am full.  Age. 
Able to lend me, are you not? I am a stranger here,  
And may need gold.  Clind. 
Make haste, sir, back to Burgonia, your credit's good there:  
And to say truth, I wonder why you stay so long;  
Your subjects will believe you have forgot them,  
Your father's death, sir, left things much unsettled.  Age. 
Clindor, I thank you for your care; 'tis worth my thought,  
And shall be worth to you the thousand crowns we spoke of,  
Nor shall you pay so much as thanks to me:  
Only be careful of my brother; he is full of melancholy,  
For which I know no better cure then your company.  Clind. 
He shall not stir a foot without me:  
But this same foolish Love does trouble us; A little  
Bout, sir,  
In the field, War, war would cure us all.  Exeunt. Enter Clarimant and Clorinda. Clar. 
Divine Clorinda! how quickly is my joy  
To see you here, lost by the cruelty of your commands!  
All your neglect was just; but now to bid me  
Cease to love you, nay to impose a new affection,  
It is such a studied tyranny, that I in this particular  
To Gods and men may justify my disobedience  
To Clorinda.  Clo. 
I must not hope that any argument  
That I have used can be of equal force  
With her perfections; if they want power,  
'Tis vain to plead it further: but henceforth  
Be assured I never shall impose any command  
Upon you, nor will I ever see you more,  
If with convenience I may avoid you.  Clar. 
Stay, you cannot think it is possible  
I should obey you.  Clo. 
I think you will not rather; so far you well.  Clar. 
O stay! was ever man so wretched?  
May I not be allowed some time to try  
If I can be unconstant?  Clo. 
Yes.  Clar. 
How long?  Clo. 
Two or three days.  Clar. 
Oh! years, years will not do it, sure not an age,  
I cannot suffer such a thought: To pierce my heart  
Is much more easy; O give me leave to do that  
Rather; than you shall see your character  
So deeply printed there, that not Clorinda's self  
Can ere deface it, not by this injury,  
Although the greatest that ever yet was offered  
To a faithful love.  Clo. 
Tears from those manly eyes! it is not fit I urge it more:  
But know withal it is impiety in you  
To hope I ever can be yours:  
For though no contract passed betwixt me  
And the King your brother, I hold myself  
Unfit to be another's wife; my vows of being  
Ever his, are sure in heaven recorded.  
Think seriously of this; but withal be assured  
That person does not live to whom I hold  
Myself so much obliged as to Prince Clarimant:  
The Gods grant you much peace,  
Nay greater happiness than they permit me to bestow.  Exit Clo. Clar. 
Thunder and music in one voice; despair and joy!  
yet reason bids me hope from her last word:  
The heart that pities once, may love afford.  Exit. Enter Clorinda, Selina. Clo. 
Selina, I am now resolved to see this  
Holy man; and if he be what you relate,  
Hereafter I shall credit you. Prince Clarimant  
And fair Olinda too will go along:  
Let it be ordered so, if possible,  
That none take notice of our going.  Sel. 
That may with much ease be effected: Some hours  
As in the morning he wholly dedicates  
To his devotions, and does admit of none to visit him:  
But persons of your quality are not obliged to any rule.  Clo. 
It falls out happily; be ready then to guide us.  Sel. 
Madam, I shall not fail; and if you find him not above  
What you expect, for ever banish me your favour.  Exeunt. Enter King, Austela. K. 
Austela, I much wonder why this  
Unhappy Prince appears not.  Au. 
Doubtless, sir, he is shipped; the sense of his disgrace  
Will hinder him for ever appearing in this Court.  K. 
Why should you think so? his action was not such  
As you would make it; although Clorinda  
Were a woman, he knew it not, but as a rival  
In your sister's love did wound her.  Au. 
That is true, sir; it is not that which I allege  
In his disgrace, but that he with such odds  
Can not defend himself from Clarimant.  K. 
It was his misfortune, and not want of courage,  
Nor can I think that he consented  
To that assistance which his servants gave:  
However I must value him a friend,  
For such he shown himself in my distress;  
Nor shall he suffer in my Kingdom, if it lie  
In my power to serve him.  Au. 
I am not, sir, to counsel you: but for my part  
The little knowledge I had of him, does make me wish  
Never to see my sister married to him;  
And I am confident, if not enforced,  
She never will receive him for a husband.  K. 
It is not come to that: I rather fear  
His wounds were mortal; and should he thus be lost  
And no account given of his life or death,  
It might be prejudicial to my honour,  
All neighbour Princes would avoid my Court for ever.  Au. 
It were no loss, if they were all like him.  K. 
Daughter, I find you are so partial for your  
Husband's brother, that you forget my interest quite:  Au. 
I cannot be so severed by a husband,  
As to forget a loving father: My sister's good  
Obliges to speak thus much, for whom  
I must believe Prince Clarimant would prove  
A nobler husband than this Prince  
You so much seem to favour.  K. 
It is true; but his affection's settled on Clorinda sure,  
Never to be altered.  Au. 
You know not, sir, what time may do;  
Clorinda's self labours to make Prince Clarimant  
Change his affection to my sister: For her,  
She vows never to marry, as having lost Agenor  
Whom she loved. This I both gather by mine  
Own observance, and likewise know it from my sister,  
To whom Clorinda hath in part expressed as much.  K. 
Things standing so, I must confess, if honour  
And my word engaged permit, I quickly should consent.  Au. 
You would have reason. I know Agenor  
So much loves his brother, that he might be persuaded  
After your death to live here, and leave the government  
Of Burgonia to Clarimant.  K. 
It were a high point of state, could it be so,  
And we should aptly pay the care we own  
Unto this Kingdom. That State is much more happy  
Where the Prince himself remains,  
Then howsoever governed by a Substitute.  Au. 
Add to this, what happiness it were for me  
To live here in that Kingdom, which I  
By your favour brought my husband.  K. 
My dear Austela, I rejoice in thy instruction:  
My daughter and my Tutor, to thy clear  
Judgement I leave the managing of this affair.  Exeunt Enter Cleon and Druid. Dru. 
Will you not let them see my art?  Cle. 
No, no, it were loss of time.  Pr. 
On peril of your lives keep close, till you be called.  Enter Prince and sailor's. Cle. 
Speak not of calling;  
As soon as you perceive them once entered  
This thicket, break forth and seize them:  
If any men come in their company,  
Unless they yield, kill them; whilst we convey  
Away the Ladies to the ship. Where lies the Boat?  
Who guides to that?  Sail. 
Fast by here in a Creek.  Pr. 
But why should not we rather let them come  
Unto his Cell? then we might better seize them.  Cle. 
Oh by no means! he must remain here still  
In the same reputation, until by poison  
Or some other way the King Agenor be dispatched;  
And then come to receive a Dukedom  
For thy recompense,— or else a halter.  Dru. 
Doubt not, I will deserve it.  Pr. 
My mind misgives me that they will not come.  Cle. 
Oh fear it not; both love and curiosity  
Advance their steps, either of which  
Hath power to make young people run:  
The boy that brings them, hath his interest too:  
I judge it near the time.  [Ent. Sailor] 
I see them coming.  Cle. 
Stand close.  Enter Selina, Clorinda, Clarimant, Olinda, Clindor. Sel. 
Madam, it is but a little farther  
Within the wood  Clind. 
Whilst they inquire for Oracles,  
I'll talk with you: It is a notable witty rogue—  
The place methinks invites:  [Ent. Sailors] Clar. 
Traitors!  Clo. 
Help, help, you Gods!  Pr. 
Make good 'gainst them.  Cle. 
Lose no time.  [Ex. Pr. Cle. Clor. Olind.] Enter Clarimant and Clindor. Clar. 
O Clindor, that we had wings!  In the fight Sailors are killed. Exeunt.  

Act. 4. Scaen. 1.  Enter King, Agenor, Austela, and Attendants. K. 
'TIs strange that they should be so long returning,  
It is not a mile without the City.  Age. 
It seems they find a pleasing entertainment.  Enter Clindor (wounded) Au. 
O my heart! what object's this!  Age. 
Clindor, what mean these wounds?  Clind. 
To kill me, sir, I think; and if they do,  
It matters not, life hath with me no value:  
Your Brother's lost.  Age. 
How lost?  Clind. 
Surprised by the base Prince of Aquitain,  
As they were going to see the holy Druid.  Au. 
O heavens! and whither carried?  Clind. 
To his Fleet that lies here in the Road.  
Prince Clarimant and I, when we had killed  
Those that opposed us, pursued to overtake them,  
But came just as they put their Barge from shore:  
The Prince not considering his wounds,  
Transported by his passion, leaps into the sea,  
And swum after the Boat; but you may think  
In vain, although he could have reached it.  Age. 
And so was drowned!  Clind. 
Not drowned, but perhaps worse:  
Whether moved by the Lady's prayers, or that they 〈◊〉 might not  
Lose the profit of his ransom, or with more cruelty  
To make an end of him, I know not which;  
I saw them take him up into the Boat,  
Having disarmed him first.  Age. 
He's lost, he's lost!  
Just Gods grant me revenge upon the Traitor,  
And after punish me which way you please for all my ills.  Clind. 
The hope of that revenge is my excuse to outlive  
My master: Think what you are to do.  Age. 
Thou counsell'st well.  
O sir, your help! what is to be done?  K. 
I am so distracted with the accident—  Age. 
Lend me your power.  K. 
Most willingly.  Age. 
Furnish such ships with all speed possible  
As are not so; such as be ready, clap men aboard  
Them straight: For me, were there but one,  
By all the Gods, with that I will attempt their rescue.  Au. 
Then I must go along.  Age: 
You!  Au. 
Yes, I.  Age. 
Let some watch on the shore, and see if the Admiral  
Hoise sail, what course he holds.  I. 
That shall be my employment; but be assured sir,  
Whilst the wind keeps where it is,  
They cannot pass into the Main.  K. Age. 
Continue good heaven, and grant your aid!  Exeunt. Enter Cleon: 
Fortune! thou enemy to wit and industry,  
How I could curse thy deity, and this same giddy Prince,  
That by his new affection gives thee power  
To ruin my well-laid plots! But I unjustly  
Do complain of both: Clorinda's beauty  
Is my fate, all my disasters take from her  
Their being; I will forget her, tear her from my  
heart:  
But then I overthrew the groundwork  
Of my great design; no Kingdom,  
Nor no happiness without Clorinda.  Enter Selina. Sel. 
How! no happiness without Clorinda!  Cle. 
No happiness without Clorinda die,  
You know her title to the Crown of Burgonia  
Takes place of mine.  Sel. 
And why then does she live?  Cle. 
It is a question I may better ask,  
I gave you poison to dispatch her.  Sel. 
Rather a Cordial to comfort her,— see,  
I dare take the rest.  Cle. 
Hold, dear Selina!  Sel. 
Dear Selina! False perjured man, have I from love  
To thee, attempted wickedness so great,  
That horror strikes my soul to think upon it;  
And after all cast off like a scorned property,  
Your work performed?  Cle. 
This jealousy does set a greater value on thee:  
Come, I will open to thee all my heart;  
To make my title strong, I must be married  
To Clorinda.  Sel. 
You must!  Cle. 
Hear me with patience,  
I mean in policy it were fit:  
But to secure your fears, before that pass,  
The Priest shall secretly join us together,  
Which disannuls a second marriage.  Sel. 
If this be real that you speak,  
Perform it now betwixt ourselves,  
And call the Gods to witness.  Cle. 
Our hearts already have consented,  
What needs there more?  Sel. 
Is it even so; I left nothing undone  
To the last circumstance, that you desired;  
Gave Clarimant, Clorinda, and the Princess  
Olinda into your hands. But I perceive  
Where your heart's fixed, and I was strangely fooled,  
That ever could believe again.  Cle. 
I like not this, dear Selina,  
If you consider well, you have no ground  
For jealousy from me. The Prince, within whose power  
We for the present are, neglects his former Mistress,  
Makes all addresses, in my judgement, to Clorinda.  Sel. 
In this you more confirm me, that you still  
Do love Clorinda: since jealousy makes you  
Imagine that for which there is no ground;  
Or if this Prince like you should prove unfaithful,  
Can it be thought Clorinda can be moved  
To love again, that had no sense of all  
Prince Clarimant hath done or suffered for her sake?  Cle. 
But she is within his power; and what time  
Or force may work! nay, if you will observe,  
You'll find she shows no great aversion to him.  Sel. 
Lend me your eyes, I cannot see it else:  Cle. 
No more; be confident, Selina, I am what I was:  Sel: 
Yes, I am confident,  
False as the Fiends, too late I find it.  Enter Prince, Clorinda, Olinda, Attendants. Pr. 
Most noble Cleon!  Clo. 
Ha! Cleon?  Pr. 
Lend me your help, to let these Ladies know  
Nothing but service is intended.  Cle. 
What mean you sir? she must not know me.  Clo. 
Cleon: Did you not call him Cleon?  Pr. 
No, Madam.  Clo. 
Sure you did.  Pr. 
Then I mistook.  Cle. 
Cleander is my name, a servant to your beauty  
Lady, and this fair Princess; whose merits  
Are so great, that by yourselves considered,  
May well assure of all observance,  
Especially from this noble Prince your servant.  Clo. 
I must confess sir, I believe him every way  
So worthy, that I much grieve fortune allotted  
Him no other way than force to gain  
Possession of his Mistress. Come, Madam, be not sad;  
A noble husband makes a large amends  
For loss of friends or country; nor are they lost  
But for the present.  Olind. 
I know not how (Clorinda) you may value him;  
But I must tell him plainly, his actions  
Speak him base and treacherous.  Pr. 
Madam, I shall not so much grieve to find you  
Cruel; since this fair Lady not condemns me.  Clo: 
You shall in nothing, sir, oblige me more,  
Then by your using Clarimant with courtesy:  
Although your enemy, he is my friend;  
A nearer interest tho' he most deservingly  
Hath sought, my inclination never could allow him.  Pr. 
I shall forget my wounds received from him;  
Neglect all opportunity to take revenge,  
If it may be to you a satisfaction.  Clo. 
Your noble usage of him whilst he is your prisoner,  
At last may turn to your advantage:  
Your peace will be the easier made with both the Kings;  
Nay, without doubt this fair Princess  
Would easily be granted to you  
In exchange for him.  Olind. 
Me in exchange! first I will be wedded to my grave.  Pr. 
Lady, I shall not press you much:  
Your pride and scorn darkens your beauty,  
Whilst courtesy sets off what in this Lady  
Needs no foil.  Cle. 
It is so.  Clo. 
I see you are a Courtier, sir, and know how  
To oblige those who have power to assist your wishes:  
Your favourable opinion of me, engages my  
Best performance with my dearest friend  
To make her yours; this coyness shall not last,  
Leave me to win her for you.  Pr. 
If you be pleased to hold me worthy, I shall not  
Study to maintain a meaner happiness.  Cle. 
He is taken past recovery.  Pr. 
Ladies, we dare not longer bar you  
The happiness to enjoy yourselves.  
Dispose of all things freely in this ship,  
Were it the Empire of the world, most  
Excellent Clorinda, your power were still the same:  Clo. 
I know you borrow but my name,  
The power intended here; and so she must  
Conceive it.  Pr. 
Sir, let me crave some conference with you:  Cle. 
Command that boy strait from them,  
As you respect your happiness:  
I'll give you reason for it.  [Ex Princes, Cleon] Sel. 
O Madam!  Whispers I. 
Sir, you must go with me.  Sel. 
What mean you?  Exeunt. I. 
The Prince would speak with you.  Enter Clarimant. 
Can I yet live, and know Clorinda prisoner,  
Subject to all the injuries of power,  
And I incapable to serve her? I am not so;  
My hands are free, only my heart is slaved  
Under misfortune. Were my love such as justly  
Might arise from so miraculous a cause,  
The ardour of my flame would prompt my heart  
And hand to find some way to set her free,  
And take revenge upon the treacherous Prince▪  
But I do find the cause of all this deadness:  
My thoughts are active, but there wants  
Her favourable influence upon me.  
O me! what do my fears suggest!  
My eyes and ears, those traitors to my peace,  
I will not trust your base intelligence;  
You are but the servants of my fear, and not my reason:  
Can injuries or importunity prevail  
To make her love this Prince; where love and service  
On my part procured but frowns? O yes,  
It may be so; there is a cruelty in Love,  
By which that Deity does magnify itself:  
Reason or merit must pretend no share  
In the free bounties of a heart that Love inclines.  Enter Clorinda. 
Prince Clarimant!  Clar. 
Ha!  Clo. 
Why are you so amazed?  Clar. 
What light breaks from that cloud,  
And with the sudden brightness dazzles my sense!  
My happiness is such, O speak again,  
That by two witnesses my joys may be confirmed▪  Clo. 
Why are you thus disturbed? you oft have seen me.  Clar. 
But never thus, never thus unexpectedly,  
When I despaired the happiness.  Clo. 
Had fortune been so envious to deny an opportunity,  
As I confess this hardly was attained,  
To give you thanks for the last testimony of your love;  
Yet reason, and the estimation you do hold of me,  
Might well assure you I could not but resent it  
Highly.  Clar. 
O heavens!  Clo. 
You are sad; does this acknowledgement offend you?  Clar. 
Offend me, dear Clorinda! 'tis such a joy  
As justly might transport me from myself:  
But when I do consider all my merit was but intention  
And that I can do nothing real in your service,  
The sense of my misfortune sinks me down low as despair.  Clo. 
The Gods themselves in what we own to them,  
Do not require above what they enable us  
To act: much less is due to me,  
Who rather am your debtor; which to acquit in part  
I chief came to clear any suspicion  
You might have conceived from my kind usage  
Of this traitor Prince; yet know if you believed me  
Guilty, it was a crime I can as hardly pardon  
As your too much love.  Clar. 
The last is such a guilt as every minute multiplies;  
And though you cruelly condemn it, such is yet  
The riches or my soul.  Clo. 
But if you wish, as you profess, my happiness  
And satisfaction, temper it so, that I may pay the like;  
The affection of a brother to a sister I will allow you.  Clar. 
In this you do so far exceed my hopes or merit,  
That it were ingratitude not to acknowledge  
A bounty infinitely great: But since that  
Sisterly affection does not debar you  
From conferring a greater happiness upon some other,  
A happiness which I must burst with envy to behold:  
Nay, curse whom you so bless, you do but raise me high,  
To throw me down with greater violence.  Clo. 
To cure this fear, the Gods be witness,  
No others interest ever shall exceed Prince Clarimant's.  Clar: 
Nor shall their happiness then, by this fair hand.  Clo. 
But if beyond this you but hope, you injure me  
And virtue.— So peace dwell with you.  Clar. 
Alas, already you forget your promise;  
You wish peace, and remove it from me,  
Would any sister do so to a brother?  Clo. 
Yes, to preserve herself and him:  
Were we discovered, you were lost.  
The Prince which my unhappy beauty hath surprised  
Neglects Olinda, and certainly does fix his thoughts  
On me: With him, as far as honour would permit,  
I have dissembled, entertained his flame  
With no dislike; by which you are preserved as yet▪  
And not ill used: But this stolen visit  
Would to him express more kindness  
Than he must think I have for you—  
I hear some entering the Cabin—  Enter Prince, Cleon, and sailor's. 
Heaven! it is the Prince:  
Who have we here? Death seize him,  
And throw him overboard.  [They seize him] Clo. 
O heavens! what art can save him?  Clar. 
O for a sword!  Clo. 
Dare you presume to speak of love to me,  
And do an act so base? The mere intent,  
Were you not rooted here, would cancel all your interest.  Pr. 
My interest!  Clo. 
But if you value my respect so little,  
And your own promise for his noble usage,  
Yet wisdom bids you not forget the advantage  
That his life may bring more than his death.  Cle. 
She tells you true; remember why we did at first  
Preserve him to make our peace, should not our plot  
Take on Agenor.  Pr. 
Take him away and bind him.  Clo. 
Why sure he cannot fly: To leap into the sea,  
Were to perform himself that which you threaten.  Pr. 
Remove him hence however.  Clar. 
Fortune! that gives this man this power.  Pr. 
I look upon him as a hated Rival, away with him.  Exit with Clar. Clo. 
Come, I forgive this passion, the cause  
That it proceeds from being love to me,  
The error too that you are in is punishment enough.  Pr. 
Though I suspect all for dissembled,  
Yet I am pleased to hear her; what was my error?  Clo. 
A gross mistake of this stolen visit,  
And yet love was my grand errand.  Pr. 
Where's my mistake then?  Clo. 
Patience, and hear me: You thought Olinda  
Once did love you, and you were not mistaken;  
She did so till she knew the Prince:  
You found her altered; and of me mistaking  
The true cause, were jealous. Now by the Gods,  
If I have truth, she loves the Prince.  Pr. 
And so I fear do you.  Clo. 
By way of gratitude; but for affection,  
Heaven witness with me I loved another:  
Yet where I find distrust and disrespect,  
Such as you have expressed, I am no longer bound.  Cle. 
Infinite cunning!  Clo. 
But to proceed: Finding this Lady's passions  
Strong to Clarimant, my obligations great,  
By way of gratitude, I thought myself obliged  
To make him happy in Olinda's love,  
And doubt not to effect it, though I must blush to say so.  
I found some arguments besides that pressed me  
To this undertaking; for were their hearts so fixed  
On other, your peace with both the Kings were quickly made,  
And you stood free to make a new election:  
Yet were all women of my mind,  
You should stay long enough without a wife, you are so passionate.  Pr. 
Most excellent Clorinda, pardon the rashness of your servant,  
Who henceforth yields himself for ever to be disposed  
Of by you.  Clo. 
Well, if I find so, I never was ungrateful.  Ex Prince & Clor. Cle. 
How with a twined thread does she ride the Ass,  
And turns him how she please! but when I consider,  
It is no wonder, she hath a depth of policy  
Which all my art could never fathom: True,  
Blinded by my love, I could not reach her aims:  
But stood I free, she wanting the advantage  
Of love's power upon me, how poor and shallow  
Were the arts of all the sex? But as it is,  
Fortune hath given this silly Prince  
The power to crush me into nothing;  
Breaks his contract with me touching Clorinda,  
Which was the soul of all my undertaking.  
Is there no way to right myself? yes,  
This could revenge my wrongs on him,  
But then I perish in the act, and leave Clorinda  
To be enjoyed by Clarimant: that must not be,  
No, ere my Rival shall so happy prove,  
I to my hate will sacrifice my love.  Exit.  

Act. 5. Scaen. 1.  Enter Cleon, Clorinda, Prince (following.) Clo. 
SIr, pardon this disturbance of your thoughts.  Cle. 
Your presence rather, fairest Lady,  
May rectify any disorder,  
Since you are all a harmony of sweetness.  Clo. 
Sir, I perceive your power great with this noble Prince,  
And I believe so much a friend to him,  
That he would hearken to your council:  
If you would join with reason, and so persuade him  
To set Prince Clarimant and the Princess at liberty,  
I think it were an act would show much friendship  
To him, and for yourself gain what reward  
You would desire from both the Kings.  Cle. 
I have observed, most beautiful Clorinda,  
Such an excess of nobleness in you,  
I scarcely dare express what I would undertake  
To serve you: but than you really  
Must let me know all your desires.  Clo. 
It is Cleon.  Cle. 
Lady, dare you adventure to speak your wishes?  Clo. 
I have done so.  Cle. 
That Clarimant and the Princess should be  
Delivered, I do believe is your desire:  
But is that all? are you pleased to be here?  Clo. 
Why should I not? am I not nobly used?  Cle: 
I know those who are wicked fear not  
To break an oath; but such whose heart  
Is filled with virtue, as, I am sure yours is,  
Would not be perjured for the world.  Clo. 
To what tends this?  Cle. 
That you do swear not to discover  
What I shall propose touching your service.  Clo. 
You need not doubt, if it do suit  
With what I have expressed is my desire.  Cle. 
My end shall be the same, their liberty and yours,  
Though happily our ways to that may differ.  Clo. 
My liberty!  Cle. 
Yes, yours the most desired:  
Swear, and then hear what I propose.  Clo. 
I do, so far as virtue binds.  Cle. 
That tie all men have on you.  Clo. 
If your intents be fair, why will you ask  
A stronger obligation then?  Cle. 
I dare not speak my thoughts without an oath.  Clo. 
What can he mean?— I swear never to speak  
Of that you shall propound; nor need I,  
Since the Prince does overhear.  Cle. 
Then know, I am not ignorant how you dissemble  
With this treacherous Prince, whom you  
And all the world must hate.  Clo. 
This will undo me; I hate the Prince!  Cle. 
Yes, Lady, deadly; yet less than I.  Pr. 
'Tis well.  Cle. 
All for your sake; and for that noble Prince,  
If you consent, this hand, if Clarimant's  
Be not more able to effect it,  
Shall take revenge, and right our general wrongs.  Clo: 
I do complain of none;  
If I did, how could this be effected?  Cle. 
With ease; nay more, it is not impossible,  
The deed done, to escape to shore in the ship-boat,  
Into which the Prince and you, the night assisting,  
May get before.  Enter Prince. 
It is impossible; you are deceived—  
A Guard there!  [Ent. Guard and Sailors] 
Seize the Villain.  Cle. 
How? what mean you sir? All that I spoke  
Was but to let you see how she abused you,  
And this the plot that Clarimant and she had laid:  
You know, upon your life depends my happiness.  Pr. 
Mine in thy death:  
This cunning cannot save you, Cleon.  Cle. 
Nor do I wish it should,  
If you indeed believe me guilty.  Pr. 
Bind him, I will have thee tortured limb from limb,  
Till thou confess all truth.  Clo. 
Let me entreat, sir, for his life,  
However I am by him accused.  Pr. 
For hating me; which I have too much reason  
To believe is truth.  Clo. 
How can you think so?  
Did I not place you to overhear him?  Pr. 
But knew not what he would deliver.  
See Clarimant fast bound; and (Madam)  
My cabin this night shall be your chamber.  Clo. 
Perhaps my deathbed; Lost for ever!  Exeunt: Enter Selina (bound.) 
O you just Gods! how all my treasons  
Against my sweet and innocent Mistress are returned  
Upon my head! Prince Clarimant, I am thy murderess,  
To the fair Olinda, by my means betrayed:  
O horror! what will my torments be for this  
Hereafter in the other world? All this  
For love of thee false Cleon have I done,  
Thy cursed brain gave birth to all my plots:  
Is this the Crown thou mad'st me fond hope for?  
And shall I die without revenge? revenge!  
My hands fast bound, there's nothing left that I can  
Reach thee with but curses, fruitless curses.  
He shall live happy, gain a Kingdom and Clorinda,  
By her a Kingdom: why should I pity her then?  
It is she that is the ground of all my misery,  
His love to her makes me thus wretched:  
For Clarimant, he may hereafter marry with Olinda,  
All but myself may yet be happy:  
Must I alone die wretched, contemned and scorned?  
Why do I longer live, my guilt and miseries so great?  
You Gods, or Fiends, remove me from this miserable  
Earth, and let me feel new punishments,  
If punishments there be hereafter,  
These they cannot exceed: how sweet were yet  
Revenge! O for revenge, that Cleon's heart  
Were in my hand! false Cleon's!— no way.  Exit. Enter Clorinda, Olinda. Clo. 
O dearest Olinda, what are the miseries  
That we are fallen into! Thinking to rid myself  
Of a false villain, I have brought ruin  
On us all; no art can help us now.  
Oh the hard choice! to marry with this traitor  
Prince; or Clarimant must die.  Olind. 
It were better you consent to marry with the Prince,  
Then that Prince Clarimant should suffer;  
Let not him die however.  Clo. 
I know your love to Clarimant  
Makes you persuade me thus: and I would quickly yield,  
Did not my oath to Clarimant forbidden;  
But would kill myself ere go to bed.  Olind. 
I must confess I love the Prince,  
Be not offended that I say so;  
It was your persuasion first: since, I have seen  
Such noble actions, as raiseth him so far  
Above all other men, that they appear  
Not worthy of a thought: And yet my love  
And estimation of your virtue's such,  
I gladly would submit, nay much rejoice  
To see such merits joined.  Enter Prince, Clarimant (bound) and Guard. Pr. 
Clarimant, behold your Judge: for know, Clorinda,  
This minute you must give consent to marry me,  
And go to bed; or else immediately his head  
Goes off.  Clo. 
A cruel choice!  Olind. 
Base man! canst thou expect to scape the hand  
Of justice, after such cruelty?  Pr. 
It is not from you, Madam, that I expect  
An answer: Speak Clorinda, give your sentence;  
For by the Gods there is no way but one of these.  Clo. 
O Clarimant!  Clar. 
Heavens, can you suffer  
What you have made so excellent, to be thus  
Miserable?  Pr. 
These lamentations boot not:  
Speak Lady, I can admit of no delay.  Clo. 
What can I say?  Pr. 
No! strike off his head then.  Clo. 
Oh hold!  Pr. 
Speak, are you mine?  Clo. 
Say, Clarimant.  Clar. 
Madam, to me death will be ease,  
Since I have lived to see you injured thus,  
And have not power for to revenge it.  Pr. 
Are you resolved?  Clar. 
To suffer what thy barbarous nature can inflict.  
O help! fire, fire!  [Within] Pr. 
What cry is that?  
Quench, quench the fire.  [Within] Enter 1. 
O sir, we are all undone! the fire hath taken  
Amongst the Cabins, past all hope of extinguishing.  Enter 2: 
Fly, fly! the ship, the cordage is a fire:  
For all the water we can bring, it still increases.  Pr. 
What, burn in the sea! slaves, quench the flames.  2. 
The Sailors, sir, descend into the Boat:  
Make sure of that, and reach your other ships,  
The only means of safety.  Pr. 
Hell and confusion!  2. 
There's none obey command; but each man looks  
To his own safety.  Clar. 
O heavens! must than Clorinda perish!  Pr. 
Make sure of the longboat for me: Some one kill Cleon,  
Or rather let him perish in the flames.  
My wounds received from Clarimant, I Will revenge  
Myself. [Offers to kill]  Clo. 
O sir, if you have hope in me!  Pr. 
It is true; he shall not die yet,  
But the Gods hereafter shall not save him,  
Though they thus crossed my wishes now: Come Lady,  
I will take care of you.  Clo. 
We must not part.  Pr. 
I mean it not; there may be use of her,  
Nay for your sake bring Clarimant along.  Clar. 
'Tis for thine own, false Prince.  Pr. 
But look well to him.  Clar. 
You Gods!  
Your powerful justice in these flames is shown,  
Preserve Clorinda, and your mercy's known.  Exeunt. Enter Sailor (with a casket.) 
Gramercy fire! the element of water never yet  
Afforded me so much: this I can swim to shore  
With; yet the wind blows high; but to the  
Shoreward I may escape; if not, why so  
Whoever finds my body, shall give me thanks.  Enter Selina (her hands bound.) Sel. 
O gentle Sailor, untie my hands!  Sail. 
A pretty boy; come,— It will not do,  
My knife: so, canst swim?  Sel. 
Oh no.  Sail. 
Then get some board or pack: I fear I shall be  
Drowned, I am so well natured on the sudden.  
No use of this—  Exit. Enter Cleon (hands bond.) Cle. 
Just heavens!  Sel. 
True, Cleon; never so manifest,  Cle. 
Gentle Selina, unbind my hands:  Sel. 
I were ingrate else, Cleon: you did as much for me.  Cle. 
And would do more; any thing; unbind me, Sweet,  
I'll swim with thee upon my back to shore.  Sel. 
You cannot swim, I am sure you shall not.  Cle. 
No creature living better; I oft have swum two leagues  
For pleasure: O delay not, the fire approaches.  Sel. 
But will you marry me, and make good all your promises?  Cle. 
By the Gods I will.  Sel. 
Sure you will again deceive me.  Cle. 
Never, by my hopes.  Sel. 
The only time you ever yet spoke truth—  
You shall not: yet still thy heart is false:  Cle. 
It is not; quick unbind me, gentle Selina.  Sel. 
Well, for once I'll try what your heart holds.  Cle. 
Blessed Selina! O cruel! yet spare me  She wounds him. 
Dear Selina.  Sel. 
Yes, when I see your heart, or blood come from it.  Cle. 
O witch, devil▪  Sel. 
I am to thee so: What policy can now defend?  
Know to thy greater torment, I set the ship  
On fire, only to be revenged on thee,  
Not hoping such a happiness as this,  
With these to behold thy false heart blood.  Cle. 
O that my eyes could look thee dead!  Sel. 
I will see them closed, my dearest husband,  
It is my duty.  Cle. 
First we'll to sea together.  Sel. 
Since we must—  Exeunt, fall as into the sea▪ Enter Prince, Clarimant, Clorinda, Olinda, Sailors. 1 Sail. 
It were best to enter further within the wood:  
A Boat made after us when we forsook the ship:  2 Sail. 
Some Fisherman, that to avoid the storm,  
Put to the shore.  Pr. 
Let the winds blow and split, since we are  
Here: Fire, air, and water have opposed my wishes;  
Kind mother Earth grant what they have denied.  
But why should I entreat, that may command  
All my desires? Once more, Clorinda,  
I propose the choice; say, shall he die,  
Or will you make me happy who loves you  
More than he?  Clar. 
Traitor thou liest: He that truly loves Clorinda,  
Would give some noble testimony: unbind my hands,  
And by my death, as a worthy Rival,  
Win her from me: I ask no sword,  
Only the freedom of my hands; but if thy coward heart  
Think that too much, take all these to assist:  Pr. 
You need not pull death faster on you  
By injurious words; it is ready,  
Speak Clorinda, or he dies.  Clo. 
Hold, and give me leave to speak a few sad words.  
Dear Clarimant, I know to save your life,  
And yield myself another's, were such a choice  
You never could allow, since to the miserable  
Life is a burden: can my death  
Make you happy, the Gods be witness  
I would lay it down with joy,  
Our fates I find are one; the merit of your love  
And sufferings for my sake is such,  
That I should hold myself ingrate,  
Did I not grant you any thing  
That I might think might comfort you in death.  Clar. 
But shall I dare to speak wy wishes?  Clo. 
More than dare; I do enjoin it.  Clar. 
There is a happiness would make my death  
My triumph.  Clo. 
I understand you. Here! alas that I should give  
My hand to Clarimant, and he not able  
To receive it 1 Our hearts may yet be joined  
For ever, and only by these miseries  
They could have been.  Pr. 
Is this the fruit of my delay.  
To hear my Rival courted?  Offers to kill Clar. Clo. steps between, and Oli.. hinders it. Clo. 
Know tyrant, 'tis the same,  
One stroke dispatches both.  Clar. 
Strike here then, villain.  Olind. 
Devil, dost thou believe there are no Gods?  Enter Agenor, Clindor. Age: 
Clindor, this way I saw them enter.  Clind. 
I am out of breath, sir.  Pr. 
Ha', who are these?  Clind. 
See sir, the traitor Prince.  Clar. 
Unbind me, dear Clorinda.  (Agenor and Clindor fight with the Prince, then drive off the Sailors and follow them: Clar. kills the Prince. Then) Enter Agenor (wounded) and Clindor. Clar. 
O dearest brother, how is it with you?  Age. 
Well, Clarimant, never so well.  Clo. 
By all that's good, you never in my eye looked half so lovely as now: yet till this day  
I never could have said I loved another better  
Then your Majesty.  Age. 
If it be Clarimant, my joys are then complete.  Olind. 
It is he, sir; who could else deserve it?  Age. 
How favourable are the Gods unto the virtuous!  
How just to wicked men! How glad will my Austela be  
Of this, who with the King will strait be here?  
They from the shore beheld your ship, when it  
Took fire, saw you put off from it,  
And watched your landing certainly.  Clar. 
Know you what Bark it was  
That followed us at sea?  Age. 
I was in that, and Clindor,  
Some twenty with me to watch the ship,  
Till other Vessels were prepared:  
So swift she was of sail, that all the Fleet  
Can not have hurt us.— See, the King!  Enter King, Austela, Attendants. Au. 
What happiness? all safe?  K. 
Welcome again, my dearest.  Age: 
Let's lose no time; delay were now ingratitude:  
See, a Temple close by prompts us  
To the performance of two duties:  
The burial of this unhappy Prince;  
But chief to render thanks unto the Gods.  
Deliverance so great, alacrity commands  
In giving thanks: that done, we'll join your hands.  Clo. 
It were folly now to deny the ceremonial,  
The real part already past.  Clar. 
O dear Clorinda!  
'Twere vain to think words could my joys express,  
Raised from despair to such a happiness.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.   

Epilogue.  
FIrst, Ladies, unto you I am addressed;  
As those who judge of Lovers actions best:  
If Clarimant your suffrages hath gained,  
Our Author hath his chiefest end obtained:  
Now Sirs to you—  
Sure here's no Lover will Clorinda blame  
For gratitude, since you must hope the same:  
Perhaps you rather think she was too nice,  
That such a flame no sooner thawed her ice:  
Our Author hopes she did but her just part;  
He nobly wooed, she timely gave her heart:  
To both the sexes we prefer this suit;  
Ere you give sentence, with yourselves dispute:  
If then condemned, to whom should we appeal,  
But to that Prince that pardons faults of zeal?  
If then condemned, 'twere pride to make appeal,  
Yet there remains a pardon in our zeal: