SECRET-LOVE, OR THE Maiden-Queen: As it is Acted By His Majesty's Servants, AT THE THEATER-ROYAL.  
Written by JOHN DRYDEN Esq  
— Vitiis nemo sine nascitur; optimus ille  
Qui minimis urgetur.  HORACE. 
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Sign of the Anchor, on the Lower-walk of the New- Exchange, 1668.   

PREFACE.  
IT has been the ordinary practice of the French Poets, to dedicate their Works of this nature to their King, especially when they have had the least encouragement to it, by his approbation of them on the Stage. But I confess I want the confidence to follow their example, though perhaps I have as specious pretences to it for this Piece, as any they can boast of: it having been owned in so particular a manner by His Majesty, that he has graced it with the Title of His Play, and thereby rescued it from the severity (that I may not say malice) of its Enemies. But, though a character so high and undeserved, has not raised in me the presumption to offer such a trifle to his more serious view, yet I will own the vanity to say, that after this glory which it has received from a Sovereign Prince, I could not send it to seek protection from any Subject. Be this Poem then sacred to him without the tedious form of a Dedication, and without presuming to interrupt those hours which he is daily giving to the peace and settlement of his people.  
For what else concerns this Play, I would tell the Reader that it is regular, according to the strictest of Dramatic Laws, but that it is a commendation which many of our Poets now despise, and a beauty which our common Audiences do not easily discern. Neither indeed do I value myself upon it, because with all that symmetry of parts, it may want an air and spirit (which consists in the writing) to set it off. 'Tis a question variously disputed, whether an Author may be allowed as a competent judge of his own works. As to the Fabric and contrivance of them certainly he may, for that is properly the employment of the judgement; which, as a Master-builder may determine, and that without deception, whether the work be according to the exactness of the model; still granting him to have a perfect Idea of that pattern by which he works: and that he keeps himself always constant to the discourse of his judgement, without admitting self-love, which is the false surveigher of his Fancy, to intermeddle in it. These Qualifications granted (being such as all sound Poets are presupposed to have within them) I think all Writers, of what kind soever, may infallibly judge of the frame and contexture of their Works. But for the ornament of Writing, which is greater, more various and bizarre in Poesy then in any other kind, as it is properly the Child of Fancy, so it can receive no measure, or at least but a very imperfect one of its own excellencies or faillures from the judgement. Self-love (which enters but rarely into the offices of the judgement) here predominates. And Fancy (if I may so speak) judging of itself, can be no more certain or demonstrative of its own effects, than two crooked lines can be the adequate measure of each other. What I have said on this subject, may, perhaps, give me some credit with my Readers, in my opinion of this Play, which I have ever valued above the rest of my Follies of this kind: yet not thereby in the least dissenting from their judgement who have concluded the writing of this to be much inferior to my Indian Emperor. But the Argument of that was much more noble, not having the allay of Comedy to depress it: yet if this be more perfect, either in its kind, or in the general notion of a Play, 'tis as much as I desire to have granted for the vindication of my Opinion, and, what as nearly touches me, the sentence of a Royal Judg. Many have imagined the Character of Philocles to be faulty; some for not discovering the Queen's love, others for his joining in her restraint. But though I am not of their number, who obstinately defend what they have once said, I may with modesty take up those answers which have been made for me by my Friends; namely, that Philocles, who was but a Gentleman of ordinary birth, had no reason to guests so soon at the Queen's Passion, she being a person so much above him, and by the suffrages of all her people, already destined to Lysimantes: Besides, that he was prepossessed, (as the Queen somewhere hints it to him) with another inclination which rendered him less clearsighted in it, since no man, at the same time, can distinctly view two different objects. And if this, with any show of reason, may be defended, I leave my Masters the Critics to determine whether it be not much more conducing to the beauty of my Plot, that Philocles should be long kept ignorant of the Queen's love, then that with one leap he should have entered into the knowledge of it, and thereby freed himself, to the disgust of the Audience, from that pleasing Labyrinth of errors which was prepared for him. As for that other objection of his joining in the Queen's imprisonment, it is indisputably that which every man, if he examines himself, would have done on the like occasion. If they answer that it takes from the height of his Character to do it; I would inquire of my over-wise Censors, who told them I intended him a perfect Character, or indeed what necessity was there he should be so, the variety of Images, being one great beauty of a Play? it was as much as I designed, to show one great and absolute pattern of honour in my Poem, which I did in the Person of the Queen: All the defects of the other parts being set to show, the more to recommend that one character of Virtue to the Audience. But neigher was the fault of Philocles so great, if the circumstances be considered, which, as moral Philosophy assures us, make the essential differences of good and bad; He himself best explaining his own intentions in his last Act, which was the restauration of his Queen; and even before that, in the honesty of his expressions when he was unavoidably led by the impulsion of his love to do it. That which with more reason was objected as an indecorum, is the management of the last Scene of the Play, where Celadon and Florimell are treating too lightly of their marriage in the presence of the Queen, who likewise seems to stand idle while the great action of the Drama is still depending. This I cannot otherwise defend, then by telling you I so designed it on purpose to make my Play go off more smartly; that Scene, being in the opinion of the best judges, the most divertising of the whole Comedy. But though the Artifice succeeded, I am willing to acknowledge it as a fault, since it pleased His Majesty, the best Judge, to think it so. I have only to add, that the Play is founded on a story in the Cyrus, which he calls the Queen of Corinth; in whose Character, as it has been affirmed to me, he represents that of the famous Christina, Queen of Sweden. This is what I thought convenient to write by way of Preface, to the Maiden-Queen; in the reading of which, I fear you will not meet with that satisfaction which you have had in seeing it on the Stage; the chief parts of it both serious and comic, being performed to that height of excellence, that nothing but a command which I could not handsomely disobey, could have given me the courage to have made it public.   

Prologue.  

I.  
HE who writ this, not without pains and thought  
From French and English theatres has brought  
Th' exactest Rules by which a Play is wrought.   

II.  
The Unities of Action, Place, and Time;  
The Scenes unbroken; and a mingled chime  
Of Jonson's humour, with Corneilles' rhyme.   

III.  
But while dead colours he with care did lay,  
He fears his Wit, or Plot he did not weigh,  
Which are the living Beauties of a Play.   

iv  
Plays are like Towns, which howe'er fortified  
By Engineers, have still some weaker side  
By the o'reseen Defendant unespyed.   

V  
And with that Art you make approaches now;  
Such skilful fury in Assaults you show,  
That every Poet without shame may bow.   

VI  
Ours therefore humbly would attend your doom,  
If Soldierlike, he may have terms to come  
With flying colours, and with beat of Drum.   
The Prologue goes out, and stays while a Tune is played, after which he returns again.   

Second PROLOGUE.  

I Had forgot one half I do protest,  
And now am sent again to speak the rest.  
He bows to every great and noble Wit,  
But to the little Hector's of the Pit  
Our Poet's sturdy, and will not submit.  
He'll be beforehand with 'em, and not stay  
To see each peevish Critic stab his Play:  
Each Puny Censor, who his skill to boast,  
Is cheaply witty on the Poet's cost.  
No Critics verdict, should, of right, stand good,  
They are excepted all as men of blood:  
And the same Law should shield him from their fury  
Which has exclude d Butchers from a Jury.  
You'd all be Wits—  
But writing's tedious, and that way may fail;  
The most compendious method is to rail:  
Which you so like, you think yourselves ill used  
When in smart Prologues you are not abused.  
A civil Prologue is approved by no man;  
You hate it as you do a Civil woman:  
Your Fancy's palled, and liberally you pay  
To have it quickened, ere you see a Play.  
Just as old Sinners worn from their delight,  
Give money to be whipped to appetite.  
But what a Pox keep I so much ado  
To save our Poet? he is one of you;  
A Brother Judgement, and as I hear say,  
A cursed Critic as e'er damned a Play.  
Good savage Gentlemen your own kind spare,  
He is, like you, a very Wolf, or Bear;  
Yet think not he'll your ancient rights invade,  
Or stop the course of your free damning trade:  
For he, (he vows) at no friends Play can sit  
But he must needs find fault to show his Wit:  
Then, for his sake, ne'er stint your own delight;  
Throw boldly, for he sets to all that writ;  
With such he ventures on an even lay,  
For they bring ready money into Play.  
Those who writ not, and yet all Writers nick,  
Are Bankrupt Gamesters, for they damn on Tick.    

The Persons.  
QUeen of Sicily ———— M Martial. Candiope, Princess of the Blood— M Quin. Asteria, the Queen's Confident—— M Knep. Florimell, A Maid of Honour—— M Ellen Guyn. Flavia, another Maid of Honour—— M Frances Davenport. Olinda, Sisters.—————— M Rutter. Sabina, M Eliz. Davenport. Melissa, Mother to Olinda and Sabina— M Cory. Lysimantes, first Prince of the Blood— Mr. Burt. Philocles, the Queen's favourite—— Major Mohun. Celadon, a Courtier———— Mr. Hart. Guards.   Pages of Honour.   Soldiers.    
The Scene SICILY.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 11. lin. 21. deal you are. Pag. 17. lin. 3. deal more. Pag. 18. lin. 8. for from read on. Ibid. lin. 27. for to read so. Pag. 22. lin. 26. read from me. Pag. 28. for sweats read sweets. Pag. 33. lin. penult, for invites read invite. Pag. 42 lin. 11. for secured read secure. Pag. 44. from Annals, read from the Annals. Pag. 49. lin. 5. for or read on.   

SECRET LOVE, OR THE Maiden-Queen.  

ACT I. SCENE I  The Scene is Walks, near the Court. Enter Celadon, Asteria, meeting each other: he in riding habit; they embrace. Celedon. 
DEar Asteria!  Asteria. 
My dear Brother! welcome; a thousand welcomes: Me thinks this year you have been absent has been so tedious! I hope as you have made a pleasant Voyage, so you have brought your good humour back again to Court.  Cel. 
I never yet knew any Company I could not be merry in, except it were an old Woman's.  Ast. 
Or at a Funeral;  Cel. 
Nay, for that you shall excuse me; for I was never merrier than I was at a Creditors of mine, whose Book perished with him. But what new Beauties have you at Court? How do Melissa's two fair Daughters?  Ast. 
When you tell me which of 'em you are in love with, I'll answer you.  Cel. 
Which of 'em, naughty sister, what a question's there? With both of 'em, with each and singular of 'em.  Ast. 
Bless me! you are not serious!  Cel. 
You look as if it were a wonder to see a man in love: are they not handsome?  Ast. 
I, but both together—  Cel. 
I, and both asunder; why, I hope there are but two of 'em, the tall Singing and Dancing one, and the little Innocent one?  Ast. 
But you cannot marry both?  Cel. 
No, nor either of 'em I trust in Heaven; but I can keep them company, I can sing and dance with 'em, and treat 'em, and that, I take it, is somewhat better than musty marrying them: Marriage is poor folk's pleasure that cannot go to the cost of variety: but I am out of danger of that with these two, for I love 'em so equally I can never make choice between 'em: Had I but one mistress, I might go to her to be merry, and she, perhaps, be out of humour; there were a visit lost: But here, if one of 'em frown upon me, the other will be the more obliging, on purpose to recommend her own gaiety, besides a thousand things that I could name.  Ast. 
And none of 'em to any purpose.  Cel. 
Well, if you will not be cruel to a poor Lover, you might oblige me by carrying me to their lodgings.  Ast. 
You know I am always busy about the Queen.  Cel. 
But once or twice only, till I am a little flushed in my acquaintance with other Ladies, and have learned to prey for myself: I promise you I'll make all the haste I can to end your trouble, by being in love somewhere else.  Ast. 
You would think it hard to be denied now.  Cel. 
And reason good: many a man hangs himself for the loss of one Mistress; How do you think than I should bear the loss of two; especially in a Court where I think Beauty is but thin sown.  Ast. 
There's one Florimell the Queen's Ward, a new Beauty, as wild as you, and a vast Fortune.  Cel. 
I am for her before the world: bring me to her, and I'll release you of your promise for the other two.  Enter a Page. 
Madam, the Queen expects you.  Cel. 
I see you hold her favour; Adieu Sister, you have a little Emissary there, otherwise I would offer you my service.  Ast. 
Farewell Brother, think upon Florimell.  Cel. 
You may trust my memory for an handsome woman, I'll think upon her, and the rest too; I'll forget none of 'em.  Exit Asteria.  

SCENE II.  Enter a Gentleman walking over the Stage hastily: after him, Florimell, and Flavia Masked. Fla. 
Phormio, Phormio, you will not leave us—  Gent. 
In faith I have a little business———  Exit Gentle. Cel. 
Cannot I serve you in the Gentleman's room, Ladies?  Fla. 
Which of us would you serve?  Cel. 
Either of you, or both of you.  Fla. 
Why, could you not be constant to one?  Celestina 
Constant to one! I have been a Courtier, a Soldier, and a Traveller, to good purpose, if I must be constant to one; give me some Twenty, some Forty, some a Hundred Mistresses, I have more Love than any one woman can turn her to.  Flor. 
Bless us, let us be gone Cousin; we two are nothing in his hands.  Cel. 
Yet for my part, I can live with as few Mistresses as any man: I desire no superfluities; only for necessary change or so; as I shift my Linen.  Flor. 
Apretty odd kind of fellow this: he fits my humour rarely:————————  [aside. Fla. 
You are as unconstant as the Moon:  Flor. 
You wrong him, he's as constant as the Sun; he would see all the world round in 24 hours.  Cel. 
'Tis very true, Madam, but, like him, I would visit and away.  Flor. 
For what an unreasonable thing it were to stay long, be troublesome, and hinder a Lady of a fresh Lover.  Cel. 
A rare Creature this!— besides Madam, how like a fool a man looks, when after all his eagerness of two Minutes before, he shrinks into a faint kiss and a cold compliment.  
Ladies both, into your hands I commit myself; share me betwixt you.  Fla. 
I'll have nothing to do with you, since you cannot be constant to one.  Cel. 
Nay, rather than lose either of you, I'll do more; I'll be constant to an 100 of you: or, (if you will needs fetter me to one,) agree the matter between yourselves; and the most handsome take me.  Flor. 
Though I am not she, yet since my Masque's down, and you cannot convince me, have a good faith of my Beauty, and for once I take you for my servant.  Cell. 
And for once, I'll make a blind bargain with you: strike hands; is't a Match Mistress?  Flor. 
Done Servant:  Cel. 
Now I am sure I have the worst on't: for you see the worst of me, and that I do not of you till you show your face:—  
Yet now I think on't, you must be handsome.—  Flor. 
What kind of Beauty do you like?  Cel. 
Just such a one as yours.  Flor. 
What's that?  Cel. 
Such an Oval face, clear skin, hazle eyes, thick brown Eyebrows, and Hair as you have for all the world.  Fla. 
But I can assure you she has nothing of all this.  Cel. 
Hold thy peace Envy; nay I can be constant an'I set on't.  Flor. 
'Tis true she tells you.  Cel. 
I, I, you may slander yourself as you please; than you have,— let me see.  Flor. 
I'll swear you shall not see.—  Cel. 
A turned up Nose: that gives an air to your face: Oh, I find I am more and more in love with you! a full nether-lip, an out-mouth, that makes mine water at it: the bottom of your cheeks a little blub, and two dimples when you smile: for your stature 'tis well, and for your wit 'twas given you by one that knew it had been thrown away upon an ill face; come you are handsome, there's no denying it:  Flor. 
Can you settle your spirits to see an ugly face, and not be frighted, I could find in my heart to lift up my Masque and disabuse you.  Cel. 
I defy your Masque, would you would try the experiment:  Flor. 
No, I won'not; for your ignorance is the Mother of your devotion to me.  Cel. 
Since you will not take the pains to convert me I'll make bold to keep my faith: a miserable man I am sure you have made me.  Fla. 
This is pleasant.  Cel. 
It may be so to you but it is not to me; for aught I see, I am going to be the most constant Maudlin.—  Flor. 
'Tis very well, Celadon, you can be constant to one you have never seen; and have forsaken all you have seen.  Cel. 
It seems you know me then: well, if thou shouldst prove one of my cast Mistresses I would use thee most damnably, for offering to make me love thee twice.  Flor. 
You are i'th' right: an old Mistress or Servant is an old Tune, the pleasure on't is passed, when we have once learned it.  Fla. 
But what woman in the world would you wish her like?  Cel. 
I have heard of one Florimell the Queen's Ward, would she were as like her for Beauty, as she is for Humour.  Fla. 
Do you hear that Cousin:  (to Flor. aside.) Flor. 
Florimells not handsome: besides she's unconstant; and only loves for some few days,  Cel. 
If she loves for shorter time than I, she must love by Winter days and Summer nights i'faith:  Flor. 
When you see us together you shall judge: in the mean time adieu sweet servant.  Cel. 
Why you won' not be so inhuman to carry away my heart and not so much as tell me where I may hear news on't?  Flor. 
I mean to keep it safe for you; for if you had it, you would bestow it worse: farewell, I must see a Lady:  Cel. 
So must I too, if I can pull off your Masque—  Flor. 
You will not be so rude, I hope;  Cel. 
By this light but I will:  Flor. 
By this leg but you shan not:  Exeunt Flor. & Flavia running.  

SCENE. III.  Enter Philocles, and meets him going out. Celestina 
How! my Cousin the new Favourite!—  [aside. Phil. 
Dear Celadon! most happily arrived.  
I hear you've been an honour to your Country  
In the Portuguese Wars, and I am glad  
I have some interest in't.  Cel. 
———— But in you  
I have a larger subject for my joys:  
To see so rare a thing as rising virtue,  
And merit understood at Court.  Phil. 
Perhaps it is the only act that can  
Accuse our Queen of weakness.  Enter Lysimantes attended. Lys. 
O, my Lord Philocles, well overtaken!  
I came to look you (Phil.) had I known it sooner  
My swift attendance, Sir, had spared your trouble.  
To Cel.— Cousin, you see Prince Lysimantes  
Is pleased to favour me with his Commands:  
I beg you'll be no stranger now at Court.  Cel. 
So long as there be Ladies there, you need  
Not doubt me.  Exit Celadon. Phil. 
Some of them will, I hope, make you a Convert.  Lys. 
My Lord Philocles, I am glad we are alone;  
There is a business that concerns me nearly,  
In which I beg your love. (Phil.) Command my service.  Lys. 
I know your Interest with the Queen is great;  
(I speak not this as envying your fortune,  
For frankly I confess you have deserved it.)  
Besides, my Birth, my Courage, and my Honour,  
Are all above so base a Vice—  Phil. 
I know, my Lord, you are first Prince o'th' Blood;  
Your Country's second hope;  
And that the public Vote, when the Queen weds,  
Designs you for her choice.  Lys. 
I am not worthy.  
Except Love makes desert;  
For doubtless she's the glory of her time;  
Of faultless Beauty, blooming as the Spring,  
In our Sicilian Groves; matchless in Virtue,  
And largely sold, where ere her bounty gives,  
As with each breath she could create new Indies.  Phil. 
But jealous of her glory.  Lys. 
You are a Courtier; and in other terms,  
Would say she is averse from marriage  
Lest it might lesson her authority.  
But, whensoe'er she does, I know the people  
Will scarcely suffer her to match  
With any neighbouring Prince, whose power might bend  
Our free Sicilians to a foreign Yoke.  Phil. 
I love too well my Country to desire it.  Lys. 
Then to proceed, (as you well know, my Lord)  
The Provinces have sent their Deputies  
Humbly to move her she would choose at home:  
And, for she seems averse from speaking with them,  
By my appointment, have designed these walks,  
Where well she cannot shun them. Now, if you  
Assist their suit, by joining yours to it,  
And by your mediation I prove happy,  
I freely promise you.—  Phil. 
Without a Bribe command my utmost in it:—  
And yet, there is a thing, which time may give me  
The confidence to name:— (Lys.) 'Tis yours whatever.  
But tell me true; does she not entertain  
Some deep, and settled thoughts against my person?  Phil. 
I hope not so; but she, of late, is froward;  
Reserved, and sad, and vexed at little things;  
Which, her great soul ashamed of, strait shakes off,  
And is composed again.  Lys. 
You are still near the Queen, and all our Actions come to  
Prince's eyes, as they are represented by them that hold the mirror.  Phil. 
Here she comes, and with her the Deputies;—  
I fear all is not right,  Enter Queen; Deputies after her; Asteria, Guard, Flavia, Olinda, Sabina. Queen turns back to the Deputies, and speaks entering. Qu. 
And I must tell you,  
It is a saucy boldness thus to press  
On my retirements.—  1. Dep. 
Our business being of no less concern  
Then is the peace and quiet of your Subjects— and that delayed—  2. Dep. 
———— we humbly took this time  
To represent your people's fears to you.  Qu. 
My people's fears! who made them Statesmen?  
They much mistake their business, if they think  
It is to govern:  
The Rights of Subjects and of Sovereigns  
Are things distinct in Nature: theirs, is to  
Enjoy Propriety, not Empire.  Lys. 
If they have erred, 'twas but an over-care;  
An ill-timed Duty.—  Qu. 
Cousin, I expect  
From your near Blood, not to excuse, but check 'em.  
They would impose a Ruler  
Upon their Lawful Queen:  
For what's an Husband else;  Lys. 
Fair; Madam, be it from the thoughts  
Of any who pretends to that high Honour,  
To with for more than to be reckoned  
As the most graced, and first of all your servants.  Qu. 
These are th'insinuating promises  
Of those who aim at pow r: but tell me Cousin;  
(For you are unconcerned and may be Judge)  
Should that aspiring man compass his ends,  
What pawn of his obedience could he give me,  
When Kingly power were once invested in him?  Lys. 
What greater pledge than Love? when those fair eyes,  
Cast their commanding beams, he that could be  
A Rebel to your birth, must pay them homage.  Qu. 
All eyes are fair  
That sparkle with the Jewels of a Crown:  
Put now I see my Government is odious;  
My people find I am not fit to Reign,  
Else they would never——  Lys. 
So far from that, we all acknowledge you  
The bounty of the Gods to Sicily:  
More than they are you cannot make our Joys;  
Make them but lasting in a Successor.  Phil. 
Your people seek not to impose a Prince;  
But humbly offer one to your free chioce:  
And such an one he is, (may I have leave  
To speak some little of his great deserts.)  Qu. 
I'll hear no more—  To the Dep. 
For you, attend tomorrow at the Council,  
There you shall have my firm resolves; mean time  
My Cousin I am sure will welcome you.  Lys. 
Still more and more mysterious: but I have gained one of her women that shall unriddle it:— Come Gentlemen.—  All Dep. 
Heaven preserve your Majesty.  Exeunt Lysimantes and Deputies. Qu. 
Philocles you may stay:  Phil. 
I humbly wait your Majesty's commands.  Qu. 
Yet, now I better think on't, you may go.  Phil. 
Madam!  Qu. 
I have no commands.— or, what's all one  
You no obedience.  Phil. 
How, no obedience, Madam?  
I plead no other merit; 'tis the Charter  
By which I hold your favour, and my fortunes.  Qu. 
My favours are cheap blessings, like Rain and Sunshine,  
For which we scarcely thank the Gods, because we daily have them.  Phil. 
Madam, your Breath which raised me from the dust  
May lay me there again  
But fate nor time can ever make me lose  
The sense of your indulgent bounties to me  Qu. 
You are above them now; grown popular:  
Ah Philocles, could I expect from you  
That usage I have found! no tongue but yours  
To move me to a marriage?—  [weeps 
The factious Deputies might have some end in't,  
And my ambitious Cousin gain a Crown;  
But what advantage could there come to you?  
What could you hope from Lysimantes Reign  
That you can want in mine?  Phil. 
You yourself clear me, Madam, had I sought  
More power, this Marriage sure was not the way.  
But, when your safety was in question.  
When all your people were unsatisfied,  
Desired a King, nay more, designed the Man,  
It was my duty then.  Qu. 
Let me be judge of my own safety;  
I am a woman,  
But danger from my Subjects cannot fright me.  Phil. 
But Lysimantes, Madam, is a person——  Qu. 
I cannot love,——  
Shall I, I who am born a Sovereign Queen,  
Be barred of that which God and Nature gives  
The meanest Slave, a freedom in my love?  
— Leave me, good Philocles, to my own thoughts;  
When next I need your counsel I'll send for you—  Phillip 
I'm most unhappy in your high displeasure;  
But, since I must not speak, Madam, be pleased  
To peruse this, and therein, read my care:  He plucks out a paper, and presents it to her. But drops, unknown to him a picture; Queen 
reads.—  Exit Philocles. 
A Catalogue of such persons—  Spies the box. 
What's this he has let fall? Asteria?  Ast. 
Your Majesty—  Qu. 
Take that up, it fell from Philocles.  She takes it up, looks on it, and smiles. Qu. 
How now, what makes you merry?  Ast. 
A small discovery I have made, Madam;  Qu. 
Of what?  Ast. 
Since first your Majesty graced Philocles,  
I have not heard him named for any Mistress  
But now this picture has convinced me.—  Qu. 
Ha! Let me see it  (Snatches it from her.) 
Candiope, Prince Lysimantes sister!  Ast. 
Your favour, Madam, may encourage him—  
And yet he loves in a high place for him:  
A Princess of the Blood, and what is more,  
Beyond comparison the fairest Lady  
Our Isle can boast.  Qu. 
How! she the fairest  
Beyond comparison? 'tis false, you flatter her;  
She is not fair.—  Ast. 
I humbly beg forgiveness on my knees,  
If I offended you: But next yours, Madam,  
Which all must yield to—  Qu. 
I pretend to none  Ast. 
She passes for a beauty.  Qu. 
I, She may pass.— But why do I speak of her?  
Dear Asteria lead me, I am not well o'th' sudden.—  [She faints Ast. 
Who's near there? help the Queen.  The Guards are coming, Qu. 
Bid 'em away, 'twas but a qualm,  
And 'tis already going.—  Ast. 
Dear Madam what's the matter! you're  
You are of late so altered I scarce know you.  
You were gay humoured, and you now are pensive,  
Once calm, and now unquiet;  
Pardon my boldness that I press thus far  
Into your secret thoughts: I have at least  
A subjects share in you.  Qu. 
Thou hast a greater,  
That of a friend; but am I forward, sayest thou!  Ast. 
It ill becomes me, Madam, to say that.  Qu. 
I know I am: prithee forgive me for it.  
I cannot help it, but thou hast  
Not long to suffer it.  Ast. 
Alas!  Qu. 
I feel my strength insensibly consume,  
Like Lilies wasting in a Lymbecks heat.  
Yet a few days—  
And thou shalt see me lie all damp and cold,  
Shrouded within some hollow Vault, among  
My silent Ancestors.  Ast. 
O dearest Madam!  
Speak not of death, or think not, if you die  
That I will stay behind.  Qu. 
Thy love has moved me, I for once will have  
The pleasure to be pitied; I le unfold  
A thing so strange, so horrid of myself;—  Ast. 
Bless me, sweet Heaven!  
So horrid, said you, Madam?  Qu. 
That Sun, who with one look surveys the Globe,  
Sees not a wretch like me: and could the world  
Take a right measure of my state within,  
Mankind must either pity me, or scorn me.  Ast. 
Sure none could do the last.  Qu. 
Thou longest to know it:  
And I to tell thee, but shame stops my mouth.  
First promise me thou wilt excuse my folly,  
And next be secret.—  Ast. 
——— Can you doubt it Madam!  Qu. 
Yet you might spare my labour;  
Can you not guests—.  Ast. 
Madam, please you, I'll try.  Qu. 
Hold: Asteria:  
I would not have you guess, for should you find it  
I should imagine, that some other might,  
And then, I were most wretched.  
Therefore, though you should know it, flatter me:  
And say you could not guests it.—  Ast. 
Madam, I need not flatter you, I cannot.— and yet,  
Might not Ambition trouble your repose?  Qu. 
My Sicily I thank the Gods, contents me.  
But since I must reveal it, know 'tis love:  
I who pretended so to glory, am  
Become the slave of love.—  Ast. 
I thought your Majesty had framed designs  
To subvert all your Laws; become a Tyrant,  
Or vex your neighbours with injurious wars;  
Is this all? Madam?  Qu. 
Is not this enough?  
Then, know, I love below myself; a Subject;  
Love one who loves another, and who knows not  
That I love him.  Ast. 
He must be told it, Madam.  Qu. 
Not for the world: Asteria:  
When ere he knows it I shall die for shame.  Ast. 
What is it then that would content you?  Qu. 
Nothing, but that I had not loved?  Ast. 
May I not ask without offence who 'tis?  Qu. 
Even that confirms me I have loved amiss;  
Since thou canst know I love, and not imagine  
It must be Philocles  Ast. 
My Cousin is indeed a most deserving person;  
Valiant and wise; and handsome; and well born,  Qu. 
But not of Royal blood:  
I know his fate unfit to be a King.  
To be his wife I could forsake my Crown; but not my glory:  
Yet,— would he did not love Candiope;  
Would he loved me,— but knew not of my love,  
Or ere durst tell me his: Ast. In all this Labyrinth,  
I find one path conducing to your quiet,  Qu. 
O tell me quickly then.  Ast. 
Candiope, as Princess of the Blood  
Without your approbation cannot marry:  
First break his match with her, by virtue of  
Your Sovereign Authority.  Qu. 
I fear. That were to make him hate me.  
Or, what's as bad, to let him know I love him:  
Can you not do it of yourself?  Ast. 
I'll not be wanting to my power  
But if your Majesty appears not in it  
The love of Philocles will soon surmount  
All other difficulties.  Qu. 
Then, as we walk, we'll think what means are best  
Effect but this, and thou sharest half my breast.  Exeunt.   


ACT II. SCENE I.  The Queen's apartments. Asteria, 
NOthing thrives that I have plotted:  Sola. 
For I have sounded Philocles, and find  
He is too constant to Candiope  
Her too I have assaulted, but in vain,  
Objecting want of quality in Philocles.  
I'll to the Queen, and plainly tell her  
She must make use of her Authority  
To break the match.   

SCENE. II.  Enter Celadon looking about him. 
Brother! what make you here  
About the Queen's apartments?  
Which of the Ladies are you watching for?  Celestina 
Any of 'em that will do me the good turn to make me sound in love.  Ast. 
Then I'll bespeak you one; you will be desperately in love with Florimell: so soon as the Queen heard you were returned she gave you her for Mistress.  Cel. 
Thank her Majesty; but to confess the truth my fancy lies partly another way.  Ast. 
That's strange: Florimell vows you are already in love with her.  Cel. 
She wrongs me horribly, if ever I saw or spoke with this Florimell.  Ast. 
Well, take your fortune, I must leave you.  [Exit Asteria.  

SCENE, III.  Enter Florimell, sees him, and is running back. Cel. 
Nay i'faith I am got betwixt you and home, you are my prisoner, Lady bright, till you resolve me one question.  She signs. 
She is dumb. Pox; I think she's dumb: what a vengeance dost thou at Court, with such a rare face, without a tongue to answer to a kind question. Art thou dumb indeed, then, thou canst tell no tales,— goes to kiss her.  Flor. 
Hold, hold, you are not mad!  Cel. 
Oh, my miss in a Masque! have you found your tongue?  Flor. 
IT was time, I think; what had become of me, if I had not?  Cel. 
Methinks your lips had done as well.  Flor. 
I, if my Masque had been over 'em, as it was when you met me in the walks.  Cel. 
Well; will you believe me another time? did not I say you were infinitely handsome: they may talk of Florimell, if they will, but i'faith she must come short of you.  Flor. 
Have you seen her, then?  Cel. 
I looked a little that way, but I had soon enough of her, she is not to be seen twice without a surfeit.  Flor. 
However you are beholding to her, they say she loves you.  Cel. 
By fate she shall not love me: I have told her a piece of my mind already: pox o'these coming women: they set a man to dinner before he has an appetite.  [Flavia at the door. Florimell 
you are called within.——  [Exit Cel. 
I hope in the Lord you are not Florimell;  Flor. 
Even she at your service; the same kind and coming Florimell you have described:  Cel. 
Why then we are agreed already, I am as kind and coming as you for the heart of you: I knew at first we two were good for nothing but one another.  Flor. 
But, without raillery, are you in Love?  Cel. 
So horribly much, that contrary to my own Maxims, I think in my conscience I could marry you.  Flor. 
No, no, 'tis not come to that yet: but if you are really in love you have done me the greatest pleasure in the world.  Cel. 
That pleasure, and a better too I have in store for you.  Flor. 
This Animal called a Lover I have longed to see these two years.  Cel. 
Sure you walked with your mask on all the while, for if you had been seen, you could not have been without your wish.  Flor 
I warrant you mean an ordinary whining Lover; but I must have other proofs of love ere I believe it.  Cel. 
You shall have the best that I can give you.  Flor. 
I would have a Lover, that if need be, should hang himself, drown himself, break his neck, or poison himself for very despair: he that will scruple this is an impudent fellow if he says he is in love.  Cel. 
Pray, Madam, which of these four things would you have your Lover do? for a man's but a man, he cannot hang, and drown, and break his neck, and poison himself, altogether.  Flor, 
Well then, because you are but a beginner, and I would not discourage you, any one of these shall serve your turn in a fair way.  Cel. 
I am much deceived in those eyes of yours, if a Treat, a Song, and the Fiddles, be not a more acceptable proof of love to you, than any of those Tragical ones you have mentioned.  Flor. 
However you will grant it is but decent you should be pale, and lean, and melancholic to show you are in love: and that I shall require of you when I see you next.  Cel. 
When you see me next? why you do not make a Rabbit of me, to be lean at 24 hours' warning? in the mean while we burn daylight, lose time and love.  Flor. 
Would you marry me without consideration?  Cel. 
To choose, by heaven, for they that think on't, twenty to one would never do it, hang forecast; to make sure of one, good night is as much in reason as a man should expect from this ill world.  Flor. 
Methinks a few more years and discretion would do well: I do not like this going to bed so early; it makes one so weary before morning.  Cel. 
That's much as your pillow is laid before you go to sleep.  Flor. 
Shall I make a proposition to you? I will give you a whole year of probation to love me in; to grow reserved, discreet, sober and faithful, and to pay me all the services of a Lover.—  Cel. 
And at the end of it you'll marry me?  Flor. 
If neither of us alter our minds before.—  Cel. 
By this light a necessary clause.— but if I pay in all the foresaid services before the day, you shall be obliged to take me sooner into mercy.  Flor. 
Provided if you prove unfaithful, than your time of a Twelvemonth to be prolonged; so many services I will bate you so many days or weeks; so many faults I will add more to your ' Prenticeship, so much more: And of all this I only to be Judg.   

SCENE IU.  Enter Philocles and Lysimantes. Lys. 
Is the Queen this way, Madam?  Flor. 
I'll see, so please your Highness: Fellow me, Captive.  Cel. 
March on Conqueror—  [She pulls him. Lys. 
You're sure her Majesty will not oppose it?  Exeunt Cel. Flor. Phil. 
Leave that to me my Lord.  Lys. 
Then, though perhaps my Sister's birth might challenge  
An higher match,  
I'll weigh your merits on the other side  
To make the balance even  Phil. 
I go my Lord this minute.  Lys. 
My best wishes wait on you.  [Exit Lysimantes.  

SCENE V.  Enter the Queen and Asteria. Qu. 
Yonder he is; have I no other way?  Ast. 
O Madam, you must stand this brunt:  
Deny him now, and leave the rest to me:  
I'll to Candiope's Mother,  
And under the pretence of friendship, work  
On her Ambition to put off a match  
So mean as Philocles.  [Qu. to Phil.] 
You may approach, Sir,  
We two discourse no secrets.  Phil. 
I come, Madam, to weary out your royal bounty.  Qu. 
Some suit I warrant for your Cousin Celadon.  
Leave his advancement to my care.  Phil. 
Your goodness still prevents my wishes:— yet I have one request  
Might it not pass almost for madness, and  
Extreme Ambition in me.—  Qu. 
You know you have a favourable Judge,  
It lies in you not to ask any thing  
I cannot grant.  Phil. 
Madam, perhaps you think me now too faulty:  
But Love alone inspires me with ambition,  
Though but to look from fair Candiope, were an excuse for both.  Qu. 
Keep your Ambition, and let Love alone;  
That I can cloy, but this I cannot cure.  
I have some reasons (invincible to me) which must forbid  
Your marriage with Candiope.  Phil. 
I knew I was not worthy.  Qu. 
Not for that, Philocles, you deserve all things,  
And to show I think it, my Admiral I hear is dead  
His vacant place (the best in all my Kingdom,)  
I here confer on you.  Phil. 
Rather take back all you have given before,  
Than not give this.  
For believe; Madam, nothing is so near  
My soul, as the possession of Candiope.  Qu. 
Since that belief would be your disadvantage,  
I will not entertain it.  Phil. 
Why, Madam, can you be thus cruel to me?  
To give me all things which I did not ask,  
And yet deny that only thing I beg:  
And to beg that I find I cannot live  
Without the hope of it.  Qu. 
Hope greater things;  
But hope not this. Haste to o'ercome your love,  
It is but putting a short lived passion to a violent death.  Phil. 
I cannot live without Candiope.  
But I can die without a murmur,  
Having my doom pronounced from your fair mouth.  Qu. 
If I am to pronounce it, live my Philocles,  
But live without (I was about to say  
Without his love, but that I cannot do)  
Live Philocles without Candiope.  aside. Phil. 
Ah, Madam, could you give my doom so quickly  
And knew it was irrevocable!  
'Tis too apparent  
You who alone love glory, and whose soul  
Is loosened from your senses, cannot judge  
What torments mine, of grosser mould, endures.  Qu. 
I cannot suffer you  
To give me praises which are not my own:  
I love like you, and am yet much more wretched  
Than you can think yourself.  Phil. 
Weak bars they needs must be that fortune puts  
'Twixt Sovereign Power, and all it can desire.  
When Princes love, they call themselves unhappy,  
Only because the word sounds handsome in a Lover's mouth.  
But you can cease to be so when you please  
By making Lysimantes fortunate.  Qu. 
Were he indeed the man, you had some reason;  
But 'tis another, more without my power,  
And yet a subject too.  Phil. 
O, Madam, say not so,  
It cannot be a Subject if not he.  
It were to be injurious to yourself  
To make another choice.  Qu. 
Yet Lysimantes, set by him I love,  
Is more obscured then Stars too near the Sun;  
He has a brightness of his own,  
Not borrowed of his Fathers, but born with him.  Phil. 
Pardon me if I say, whoever he be,  
He has practised some ill Acts upon you, Madam;  
For he, whom you describe, I see is born but from the lees o'th' people.  Qu. 
You offend me Philocles.  
Whence had you leave to use those insolent terms  
Of him I please to love: one I must tell you,  
(Since foolishly I have gone on thus far)  
Whom I esteem your equal,  
And far superior to Prince Lysimantes;  
One who deserves to wear a Crown.—  Phil. 
Whirl winds bear me hence before I live  
To that detested day.— That frown assures me  
I have offended, by my over freedom;  
But yet me thinks a heart so plain and honest  
And zealous of your glory, might hope your pardon for it.  Qu. 
I give it you; but  
When you know him better  
You'll alter your opinion; he's no ill friend of yours.  Phil. 
I well perceive  
He has supplanted me in your esteem;  
But that's the least of ills this fatal wretch  
Has practised.— Think, for Heaven's sake, Madam, think  
If you have drunk no Phylter.  Qu. 
Yes he has given me a Phylter;—  
But I have drunk it only from his eyes.  Phil. 
Hot Irons thank 'em for't.—  (Softly or turning from her. Qu. 
What's that you mutter?  
Hence from my sight: I know not whether  
I ever shall endure to see you more.  Phil. 
— But hear me, Madam:  Qu. 
I say be gone.— See me no more this day.—  
I will not hear one word in your excuse:  
Now, Sir, be rude again; And give Laws to your Queen.  Exit Philocles bowing. 
Asteria, come hither.  
Was ever boldness like to this of Philocles?  
Help me to reproach him; for I resolve  
Henceforth no more to love him.  Ast. 
Truth is, I wondered at your patience, Madam:  
Did you not mark his words, his mien, his action,  
How full of haughtiness, how small respect?  Qu. 
And he to use me thus, he whom I favoured,  
Nay more, he whom I loved?  Ast. 
A man, me thinks, of vulgar parts and presence!  Qu. 
Or allow him something handsome, valiant, or so—  
Yet this to me!—  Ast. 
The workmanship of inconsiderate favour,  
The Creature of rash love; one of those Meteors  
Which Monarches raise from earth,  
And people wondering how they came so high,  
Fear, from their influence, Plagues, and Wars, and Famine.  Qu. 
Ha!  Ast. 
One whom instead of banishing a day,  
You should have plumed of all his borrowed honours:  
And let him see what abject things they are  
Whom Princes often love without desert.  Qu. 
What has my Philocles deserved from thee  
That thou shouldst use him thus?  
Were he the basest of Mankind thou couldst not  
Have given him ruder language.  Ast. 
Did not your Majesty command me,  
Did not yourself begin?  Qu. 
I grant I did, but I have right to do it;  
I love him, and may rail;— in you 'tis malice;  
Malice in the most high degree; for never man  
Was more deserving than my Philocles.  
Or, do you love him, ha'! and plead that title?  
Confess, and I'll forgive you.—  
For none can look on him but needs must love.  Ast. 
I love him, Madam! I beseech your Majesty  
Have better thoughts of me.  Qu. 
Dost thou not love him then!  
Good Heaven, how stupid and how dull is she!  
How most invincibly insensible!  
No woman does deserve to live  
That loves not Philocles.—  Ast. 
Dear madam, recollect yourself; alas  
How much distracted are your thoughts, and how  
Dis-jointed all your words;—  
The Sibyls leaves more orderly were laid.  
Where is that harmony of mind, that prudence  
Which guided all you did! that sense of glory  
Which raised you, high above the rest of Kings  
As Kings are o'er the level of mankind!  Qu. 
Gone, gone Asteria, all is gone,  
Or lost within me far from any use.  
Sometimes I struggle like the Sun in Clouds,  
But strait I am overcast.—  Ast. 
I grieve to see it.—  Qu. 
Then thou hast yet the goodness  
To pardon what I said.—  
Alas, I use myself much worse than thee.  
Love rages in great souls,—  
For there his power most opposition finds;  
High trees are shaken, because they dare the winds.  [Exeunt.   

ACT III.  
SCENE of the Act, The Court Gallery.  Philocles, solus. Phil. 
'TIs true, she banished me but for a day;  
But Favourites, once declining, sink apace.  
Yet Fortune, stop,— this is the likeliest place  
To meet Asteria, and by her convey,  
My humble vows to my offended Queen.  Enter Queen and Asteria. 
Ha! She comes herself; Unhappy man  
Where shall I hid?—  (is going out.) Qu. 
Is not that Philocles who makes such haste away? Philocles, Philocles—  [Philocles coming back, [I feared she saw me. Qu. 
How now Sir, am I such a Bugbear  
That I scare people from?  Phil. 
'Tis true, I should more carefully have shunned  
The place where you might be; as, when it thunders  
Men reverently quit the open Air  
Because the angry Gods are then abroad.  Qu. 
What does he mean, Asteria?  
I do not understand him.  Ast. 
Your Majesty forgets you banished him,  
Your presence for this day.—————  [to her softly. Qu. 
Ha! banished him! 'tis true indeed;  
But, as thou sayest, I had forgot it quite.—  to her. Ast. 
That's very strange, scarce half an hour ago.  Qu. 
But Love had drawn his pardon up so soon  
That I forgot he e'er offended me.  Phil. 
Pardon me, that I could not thank you sooner:  
Your sudden grace, like some swift flood poured in on narrow banks  
O'erflowed my spirits.  Qu. 
No; 'tis for me to ask your pardon Philocles,  
For the great injury I did you  
In not remembering I was angry with you.  
But I'll repair my fault,  
And rouse my anger up against you yet:  Phil. 
No, Madam, my forgiveness was your Act of grace  
And I lay hold of it.  Qu. 
Prince's sometimes may pass,  
Acts of Oblivion in their own wrong:  Phil. 
'Tis true; but not recall them.  Qu. 
But, Philocles, since I have told you there is one I love.  
I will go on; and let you know  
What passed this day betwixt us; be you judge  
Whether my servant have dealt well with me.  Phil. 
I beseech your Majesty excuse me:  
Any thing more of him may make me  
Relapse too soon, and forfeit my late pardon.  Qu. 
But you'll be glad to know it.  Phil. 
May I not hope than  
You have some quarrel to him?  Qu. 
Yes, a great one.  
But first, to justify myself  
Know, Philocles, I have concealed my passion  
With such care from him, that he knows not yet  
I love, but only that I much esteem him.  Phil. 
O stupid wretch  
That by a thousand tokens could not guests it!  Qu. 
He loves elsewhere, and that has blinded him.  Phil. 
He's blind indeed!  
So the dull Beasts in the first Paradise  
With levelled eyes gazed each upon their kind;  
There fixed their love: and ne'er looked up to view  
That glorious Creature man, their sovereign Lord.  Qu. 
You're too severe, on little faults, but he has crimes, untold,  
Which will, I fear, move you much more against him.  
He fell this day into a passion with me,  
And boldly contradicted all I said.  Phil. 
And stands his head upon his Shoulders yet?  
How long shall this most insolent—  Qu. 
Take heed you rail not,  
You know you are but on your good behaviour.  Phil. 
Why then I will not call him Traitor—  
But only rude, audacious and impertinent,  
To use his Sovereign so.— I beg your leave  
To wish you have, at least imprisoned him  Qu. 
Some people may speak ill, and yet mean well:  
Remember you were not confined; and yet  
Your fault was great. In short, I love him  
And that excuses all; but be not jealous;  
His rising shall not be your overthrow,  
Nor will! I ever marry him.—  Phil. 
That's some comfort yet  
He shall not be a King.  Qu. 
He never shall. But you are discomposed;  
Stay here a little; I have somewhat for you  
Shall show you still are in my favour.  [Exeunt Queen and Asteria. Enter to him Candiope weeping. Phil. 
How now, in tears, my fair Candiope?  
So through a watery Cloud  
The Sun at once seems both to weep and shine.  
For what Forefathers sin do you afflict  
Those precious eyes? for sure you have  
None of your own to weep.  Cand. 
My Crimes both great and many needs must show  
Since Heaven will punish them with losing you.  Phil. 
Afflictions sent from Heaven without a cause  
Make bold Mankind inquire into its Laws.  
But Heaven, which moulding beauty takes such care  
Makes gentle fates on purpose for the fair:  
And destiny that sees them so divine,  
Spinn's all their fortunes in a silken twine:  
No mortal hand so ignorant is found  
To wove course work upon a precious ground.  Cand. 
Go preach this doctrine in my Mother's ears.  Phil. 
Has her severity produced these tears:  Cand. 
She has recalled those hopes she gave before,  
And strictly bids me ne'er to see you more.  Phil. 
Changes in froward age are Natural;  
Who hopes for constant weather in the fall?  
'Tis in your power your duty to transfer  
And place that right in me which was in her.  Cand. 
Reason, like foreign foes, would ne'er o'ercome,  
But that I find I am betrayed at home.  
You have a friend that fights for you within:  Phil. 
Let Reason ever lose, so love may win.  Enter Queen and Asteria. Queen with a Picture in her hand. Qu. 
See there, Asteria,  
All we have done succeeds still to the worse;  
We hindered him from seeing her at home,  
Where I but only heard they loved; and now  
She comes to Court, and mads me with the sight on't.  Ast. 
Dear Madam. overcome yourself a little,  
Or they'll perceive how much you are concerned.  Qu. 
I struggle with my heart,— but it will have some vent.  [Too Cand.] 
Cousin, you are a stranger at the Court.  Cand. 
It was my duty I confess,  
To attend oftener on your Majesty.  Qu. 
Asteria, Mend my Cousin's Handkerchief;  
It sits too narrow there, and shows too much  
The broadness of her Shoulders.— Nay fie, Asteria,  
Now you put it too much backward, and discover  
The bigness of her breasts.  Cand. 
I beseech your Majesty  
Give not yourself this trouble,  Qu. 
Sweet Cousin, you shall pardon me;  
A beauty such as yours  
Deserves a more than ordinary care,  
To set it out.  
Come hither, Philocles, do but observe,  
She has but one gross fault in all her shape,  
That is, she bears up here too much,  
And the malicious Workman has left it open to your eye.  Phil. 
Where, and ' please your Majesty, methinks 'tis very well?  Qu. 
Do not you see it, Oh how blind is love!  Cand. 
And how quicksighted malice!—  [Aside. Qu. 
But yet methinks, those knots of sky, do not  
So well with the dead colour of her face.  Ast. 
Your Majesty mistakes, she wants no red.  The Queen here plucks out her Glass, and looks sometimes on herself, sometimes on her Rival. Qu. 
How do I look to day, Asteria!  
Methinks not well.  Ast. 
Pardon me, Madam, most victoriously.  Qu. 
What think you, Philocles? come do not flatter.  Phil. 
Paris was a bold man who presumed  
To judge the beauty of a Goddess.  Cand. 
Your Majesty has given the reason why  
He cannot judge; his Love has blinded him:  Qu. 
Methinks a long patch here beneath her eye  
Might hid that dismal hallowness, what think you Philocles?  Cand. 
Beseech you Madam, ask not his opinion;  
What my faults are it is no matter;  
He loves me with them all.  Qu. 
I, he may love, but when he marries you  
Your Bridal shall be kept in some dark Dungeon.  
Farewell, and think of that, too easy Maid,  
I blush, thou sharest my blood.————  Exeunt Queen, Asteria. Cand. 
In humane Queen!  
Thou canst not be more willing to resign  
Thy part in me, than I to give up mine:  Phil. 
Love, how few Subjects do thy Laws fulfil,  
And yet those few, like us, thou usest ill!  Cand. 
The greatest slaves, in Monarchies, are they,  
Whom Birth sets nearest to Imperial sway.  
While jealous power does sullenly o'er spy,  
We play like Deer within the Lion's eye.  
Would I for you some Shepherdess had been;  
And, but each May, ne'er heard the name of Queen.  Phil. 
If you were so, might I some Monarch be,  
Then, you should gain what now you lose by me:  
Then, you in all my glories should have part,  
And rule my Empire, as you rule my heart.  Cand. 
How much our golden wishes are in vain?  
When they are passed we are ourselves again.  Enter Queen and Asteria above. Qu. 
Look, look Asteria, yet they are not gone.  
Hence, we may hear what they discourse alone.  Phil. 
My Love inspires me with a generous thought  
Which you unknowing, in those wishes taught.  
Since happiness may out of Courts be found  
Why stay we here on this enchanted ground?  
And choose not rather with content to dwell  
(If Love and we can find it) in a Cell?  Cand. 
Those who, like you, have once in Courts been great,  
May think they wish, but wish not to retreat.  
They seldom go but when they cannot stay;  
As losing Gamesters throw the Dice away:  
Even in that Cell, where you repose would find,  
Visions of Court will haunt your restless mind;  
And glorious dreams stand ready to restore  
The pleasing shapes of all you had before.  Phil. 
He, who with your possession once is blessed,  
On easy terms may part with all the rest.  
All my Ambition will in you be crowned;  
And those white Arms shall all my wishes bound.  
Our life shall be but one long Nuptial day,  
And, like chafed Odours, melt in Sweats away.  
Soft as the Night our Minutes shall be worn,  
And cheerful as the Birds that wake the Morn.  Cand. 
Thus hope misleads itself in pleasant way;  
And takes mores joys on trust then Love can pay!  
But Love, with long possession, once decayed,  
That face which now you Court, you will upbraid.  Phil. 
False Lovers broach these tenets, to remove  
The fault from them by placing it on Love.—  Cand. 
Yet grant in Youth you keep alive your Fire,  
Old age will come, and then it must expire:  
Youth but a while does at Love's Temple stay,  
As some fair Inn to lodge it on the way.  Phil. 
Your doubts are kind; but to be satisfied,  
I can be true, I beg I may be tried.  Cand. 
Trials of love too dear the making cost;  
For, if successless, the whole venture's lost.  
What you propose, brings wants and care along.  Phil. 
Love can bear both. (Cand.) but is your love so strong?  Phil. 
They do not want, who wish not to have more;  
Who ever said an Anchoret was poor?  Cand. 
To answer generously as you have done,  
I should not by your arguments be won:  
I know I urge your ruin by consent;  
Yet love too well that ruin to prevent.  Phil. 
Like water given to those whom Fever's fry,  
You kill but him, who must without it die.  Cand. 
Secure me I may love without a Crime;  
Then, for our flight, appoint both place and time.  Phil. 
Th'ensuing hour my plighted vows shall be;  
The time's not long; or only long to me.  Cand. 
Then, let us go where we shall ne'er be seen  
By my hard Mother (Phil.) or my cruel Queen.  Exeunt Phil. Cand. Queen above. 
O Philocles unkind to call me cruel!  
So false Aeneas did from Dido fly;  
But never branded her with cruelty.  
How I despise myself for loving so!  Ast. 
At once you hate yourself and love him too.  Qu. 
No, his ingratitude has cured my wound:  
A painful cure indeed! (Ast.) and yet not sound.  
His ignorance of your true thoughts  
Excuses this; you did seem cruel, Madam.  Qu. 
But much of kindness still was mixed with it.  
Who could mistake so grossly not to know  
A Cupid frowning when he draws his Bow?  Ast. 
He's going now to smart for his offence:  Qu. 
Should he without my leave departed from hence?  Ast. 
No matter; since you hate him, let him go.  Qu. 
But I my hate by my revenge will show:  
Besides, his head's a forfeit to the State.  Ast. 
When you take that I will believe you hate.  
Let him possess, and then he'll soon repent  
And so his Crime will prove his punishment.  Qu. 
He may repent; but he will first possess:  Ast. 
O, Madam, now your hatred you confess:  
If, his possessing her your rage does move,  
'Tis jealousy the avarice of love.  Qu. 
No more, Asteria.  
Seek Lysimantes out, bid him set Guards through all the Court and City.  
Prevent their marriage first; then stop their flight.  
Some fitting punishments I will ordain,  
But speak not you of Philocles again:  
'Tis bold to search, and dangerous to find,  
Too much of Heaven's, or of a Prince's mind.  [Qu. descends and exit. As the Queen has done speaking, Flavia is going hastily over the Stage; Asteria sees her. Ast. 
Flavia, Flavia, Whither so fast?  Flau. 
Did you call, Asteria?  Ast. 
The Queen has business with Prince Lysimantes;  
Speak to any Gentleman that's next, to fetch him.  Exit Asteria from above. Flau. 
I suspect somewhat, but I'll watch you close;  
Prince Lysimantes has not chose in me,  
The worst Spy of the Court.— Celadon! what makes he here!  Enter Celadon, Olinda, Sabina; they walk over the Stage together, he seeming to court them. Olind. 
Nay, sweet Celadon.—  Sab. 
Nay, dear Celadon.—  Flau. 
O-ho. I see his business now, 'tis with Melissa's two Daughters: Look look, how he peeps about to see if the Coast be clear; like an Hawk that will not plume if she be looked on.— Exeunt Cel. Ol. Sab. So— at last he has truss'ed his quarry.—  Enter Florimell. Flor. 
Did you see Celadon this way?  Flau. 
If you had not asked the question, I should have thought you had come from watching him; he's just gone off with Melissa's Daughters.  Flor. 
Melissa's Daughters! he did not Court 'em I hope?  Flau. 
So busily, he lost no time: while he was teaching the one a tune, he was kissing the others hand.  Flor. 
O fine Gentleman!  Flau. 
And they so greedy of him! Did you never see two Fishes about a Bait, tugging it this way, and t'other way; for my part, I looked at least he should have lost a Leg or Arm i'th' service.— Nay never vex yourself, but e en resolve to break with him.  Flor. 
No no, 'tis not come to that, yet; I'll correct him first, and then hope the best from time.  Flau. 
From time! Believe me, there's little good to be expected from him. I never knew the old Gentleman with the Scythe and Hourglass bring any thing but grey hair, thin cheeks, and loss of teeth: you see Celadon loves others.  Flor. 
There's the more hope he may love me among the rest: hang't, I would not marry one of these solemn Fops; they are good for nothing but to make Cuckolds: Give me a servant that is an high Flier at all games, that is bounteous of himself to many women; and yet whenever I pleased to throw out the lure of Matrimony, should come down with a swing, and fly the better at his own quarry.  Flau. 
But are you sure you can take him down when you think good?  Flor. 
Nothing more certain.  Flau. 
What wager will you venture upon the Trial?  Flor. 
Any thing.  Flau. 
My Maidenhead to yours.  Flor. 
That's a good one, who shall take the forfeit?  Flau. 
I'll go and write a Letter as from these two Sisters, to summon him immediately; it shall be delivered before you. I warrant you see a strange combat betwixt the Flesh and the Spirit: if he leaves you to go to them, you'll grant he loves them better?  Flor. 
Not a jot the more: a Bee may pick of many Flowers, and yet like some one better than all the rest.  Flav, 
But then your Bee must not leave his sting behind him.  Flor. 
Well; make the experiment however: I hear him coming, and a whole noise of Fiddles at his heels. Heyday, what a mad Husband shall I have?—  Enter Celadon. Flau. 
And what a mad wife will he have? Well, I must go a little way, but I'll return immediately and write it: You'll keep him in discourse the while?  [Exit Flau. Cel. 
Where are you, Madam? what do you mean to run away thus? pray stand to't, that we may dispatch this business.  Flor. 
I think you mean to watch me as they do Witches, to make me confess I love you. Lord, what a bustle have you kept this Afternoon? what with eating, singing and dancing, I am so wearied, that I shall not be in case to hear of any more love this fortnight.  Cel. 
Nay, if you surfeit on't before Trial, Lord have mercy upon you when I have married you.  Flor. 
But what Kings Revenue do you think will maintain this extravagant expense?  Cel. 
I have a damnable Father, a rich old Rogue, if he would once die! Lord, how long does he mean to make it ere he dies!  Flor. 
As long as ever he can, I'll pass my word for him.  Cel. 
I think than we had best consider him as an obstinate old fellow that is deaf to the news of a better world; and ne'er stay for him.  Flor. 
But even marry; and get him Grandchilds in abundance, and great Grandchilds upon them, and so inch him and shove him out of the world by the very force of new Generations:— If that be the way you must excuse me.  Cel. 
But dost thou know what it is to be an old Maid?  Flor. 
No, nor hope I sha'ned these twenty years.  Cel. 
But when that time comes, in the first place thou wilt be condemned to tell Stories, how many men thou mightest have had; and none believe thee: Then thou growest froward, and impudently weariest all thy Friends to solicit Man for thee.  Flor. 
Away with your old Common-place wit: I am resolved to grow fat and look young till forty, and then slip out of the world with the first wrinkle, and the reputation of five and twenty.  Cel. 
Well, what think you now of a reckoning betwixt us?  Flor. 
How do you mean?  Cel. 
To discount for so many days of my years service, as I have paid in since morning.  Flor. 
With all my heart.  Cel. 
Inprimis, For a Treat:  
Item, For my Glass Coach:  
Item, For sitting bare, and wagging your Fannio:  
And lastly, and principally, for my Fidelity to you this long hour and half,  Flor. 
For this I'bate you three Weeks of your Service; now hear your Bill of Faults; for your comfort 'tis a short one.  Cel. 
I know it.  Flor. 
Inprimis, Item, and Sum total, for keeping company with Melissa's Daughters.  Cel. 
How the Pox came you to know of that: 'Gad I believe the Devil plays booty against himself, and tells you of my fins.  [aside Flor. 
The offence being so small the punishment shall be but proportionable, I will set you back only half a year.  Cel. 
You're most unconscionable: why then do you think we shall come together? there's none but the old Patriarches could live long enough to marry you at this rate. What do you take me for some Cousin of Methusalem's, that I must stay an hundred years before I come to beget Sons and Daughters?  Flor. 
Here's an impudent Lover, he complains of me without ever off ring to excuse himself; Item, a fortnight more for that.  Cel. 
So there's another puff in my voyage has blown me back to the North of Scotland.  Flo. 
All this is nothing to your excuse for the two Sisters.  Cel. 
I'faith if ever I did more than kiss 'em, and that but once—  Flor. 
What could you have done more to me?  Cel. 
An hundred times more; as thou shalt know, dear Rogue, at time convenient.  Flo. 
You talk, you talk; Can you kiss 'em, though but once, and ne'er think of me?  Cel. 
Nay if I had thought of thee, I had kissed 'em over a thousand times, with the very force of imagination.  Flor. 
The Gallants are mightily beholding to you, you have found 'em out a new way to kiss their Mistresses, upon other women's lips.  Cel. 
What would you have? You are my Sultana Queen, the rest are but in the nature of your Slaves; I may make some slight excursion into the Enemy's Country for forage or so, but I ever return to my head quarters.  Enter one with a Letter. Cel. 
To me?  Mess. 
If your name be Celadon.  [Celad. reads softly. Flor. 
He's swallowing the Pill; presently we shall see the operation.  [Cel. to the Page.] 
Child, come hither Child; here's money for thee: So, be gone quickly good Child, before any body examines thee: Thou art in a dangerous place, Child.— [Thrusts him out. Very good, the Sisters send me word they will have the Fiddles this Afternoon, and invites me to sup there!— Now cannot I forbear and I should be damned, though I have scaped a scouring so lately for it. Yet I love Florimell better then both of 'em together;— there's the Riddle on'nt: but only for the sweet sake of variety.— [Aside. Well, we must all sin, and we must all repent, and there's an end on't.  Flor. 
What is it that makes you fidg up and down so?  Cel. 
I'faith I am sent for by a very dear friend, and 'tis upon a business of life and death.  Flor. 
On my life some woman?  Cel. 
On my honour some man; Do you think I would lie to you?  Flor. 
But you engaged to sup with me!  Cel. 
But I consider it may be scandalous to stay late in your Lodgings.  
Adieu dear Miss if ever I am false to thee again.  [Exit Cel. Flor. 
See what constant metal you men are made of! He gins to vex me in good earnest. Hang him, let him go and take enough of 'em: and yet methinks I can't endure he should neither. Lord, that such a Madcap as I should ever live to be jealous!  
I must after him.  
Some Ladies would discard him now, but I  
A fit way for my revenge will find,  
I'll marry him, and serve him in his kind.  [Exit Florimell.  


ACT IU.  
SCENE, The Walks.  Melissa, after her Olinda and Sabina. Melissa, 
I Must take this business up in time: this wild fellow gins to haunt my house again. Well, I'll be bold to say it, 'tis as easy to bring up a young Lion, without mischief, as a Maidenhead of Fifteen, to make it tame for an Husband's bed. Not but that the young man is handsome, rich and young, and I could be content he should marry one of 'em but to seduce 'em both in this manner.— Well, I'll examine 'em apart, and if I can find out which he loves, I'll offer him his choice.— Olinda, Come hither Child.—  Olin. 
Your pleasure, Madam?  Mel. 
Nothing but for your good Olinda, what think you of Celadon?  Olin. 
Why I think he's a very mad fellow; but yet I have some obligements to him: he teaches me new airs on the Guitarre, and talks wildly to me, and I to him.  Mel. 
But tell me in earnest, do you think he loves you?  Olin. 
Can you doubt it? There were never two so cut out for one another; we both love Singing, Dancing, Treats and Music. In short, we are each others counterpart.  Mel. 
But does he love you seriously?  Olin. 
Seriously! I know not that; if he did, perhaps I should not love him: but we sit and talk, and wrangle, and are friends; when we are together we never hold our tongues; then we have always a noise of Fiddles at our heels, he hunts me merrily as the Hound does the Hare; and either this is Love, or I know it not.  Mel. 
Well, go back, and call Sabina to me.  — Olinda goes behind 
This is a Riddle past my finding out: whether he loves her or no is the question; but this I am sure of, she loves him:— O my little Favourite, I must ask you a question concerning Celadon: Is he in love with you?  Sab. 
I think indeed he does not hate me, at least if a man's word may be taken for it.  Mel. 
But what expressions has he made you?  Sab. 
Truly the man has done his part: he has spoken civilly to me, and I was not so young but I understood him.  Mel. 
And you could be content to marry him?  Sab. 
I have sworn never to marry; besides, he's a wild young man; yet to obey you, Mother, I could be content to be sacrificed.  Mel. 
No, no, we would but lead you to the Altar.  Sab. 
Not to put off the Gentleman neither; for if I have him not I am resolved to die a Maid, that's once, Mother.—  Mel. 
Both my Daughters are in love with him, and I cannot yet find he loves either of 'em.  Olin. 
Mother, mother, yonder's Celadon in the walks.  Mel. 
Peace wanton; you had best ring the Bells for joy. Well, I'll not meet him, because I know not which to offer him; yet he seems to like the youngest best: I le give him opportunity with her; Olinda, do you make haste after me.  Olin. 
This is something hard though.  [Exit Mel. Enter Celadon. Cel. 
You see Ladies the least breath of yours brings me to you: I have been seeking you at your Lodgings, and from thence came hither after you.  Sab. 
IT was well you found us.  Cel. 
Found you! Half this brightness betwixt you two was enough to have lighted me; I could never miss my way: Here's fair Olinda has beauty enough for one Family; such a voice, such a wit, so noble a stature, so white a skin.  Olin. 
I thought he would be particular at last.  [Aside. Cel. 
And young Sabina, so sweet an innocence, Such a Rose-bud newly blown.  
This is my goodly Palace of Love, and that my little withdrawing Room. A word, Madam.  [Too Sab. Olin. 
I like not this— [aside.] Sir, if you are not too busy with my Sister, I would speak with you.  Cel. 
I come, Madam.—  Sab. 
Time enough Sir; pray finish your Discourse,— and as you were a saying, Sir—  Olin. 
Sweet Sir.—  Sab. 
Sister, you forget, my Mother bid you make haste.  Olin. 
Well, go you and tell her I am coming.—  Sab. 
I 〈◊〉 never endure to be the Messenger of ill news; but if you please 〈◊〉 send her word you won't come.—  Olin. 
Minion, Minion, remember this.——  Exit Olinda. Sab. 
She's horribly in love with you.  Cel. 
Lord, who could love that walking Steeple: She's so high that every time She sings to me, I am looking up for the Bell that tolls to Church.— Ha! Give me my little Fifth-rate! that lies so snug.— She, hang her, a Dutch built bottom: she's so tall, there's no boarding her. But we lose time— Madam, let me seal my love upon your mouth.  [kiss. 
Soft and sweet by Heaven! sure you wear Rose-leaves between your lips.  Sab. 
Lord, Lord; What's the matter with me! my breath grows so short I can scarce speak to you.  Cel. 
No matter, give me thy lips again and I'll speak for thee.  Sab. 
You don't love me.—  Cel. 
I warrant thee; set down by me and kiss again.———  
She warms faster than Pygmalion's Image.—  [aside. [kiss.] 
— I marry sir, this was the original use of lips; talking, eating, and drinking came in byth' by.—  Sab. 
Nay pray be civil; will you be at quiet?  Cel. 
What would you have me set still and look upon you like a little Puppy dog that's taught to beg with his fore-leg up?  Enter Florimell. Flor. 
Celadon the faithful! in good time Sir.—  Cel. 
In very good time Florimell; for Heaven's sake help me quickly.  Flor. 
What's the matter?  Cel. 
Do not you see! here's a poor Gentlewoman in a swoon! (swoon away!) I have been rubbing her this half hour, and cannot bring her to her senses.  Flor. 
Alas, how came she so?  Cel. 
Oh barbarous! do you stay to ask questions, run for charity.  Flor. 
Help, help, alas poor Lady.—  [Exit Flor. Sab. 
Is she gone?  Cel. 
I thanks to my wit that helped me at a pinch; I thank Heaven, I never pumped for a lie in all my life yet.  Sab. 
I am afraid you love her, Celadon!  Cel. 
Only as a civil acquaintance or so, but however to avoid slander you had best be gone before she comes again.  Sab. 
I can find a tongue as well as she——  Cel. 
I, but the truth is, I am a kind of scandalous person, and for you to be seen in my company— Stay in the walks, by this kiss I'll be with you presently.—————  Exit Sab. Enter Florimell running. Flor, 
Help, help, I can find no body.  Cel. 
'Tis needless now my dear, she's recovered, and gone off, but so wan and weakly.—  Flor. 
Umh! I begin to smell a rat, what was your business here, Celadon?  Cel. 
Charity, Christian charity; you saw I was labouring for life with her.  Flor. 
But how came you hither; not that I care this,— but only to be satisfied————.  Sings.— Cel. 
You are jealous in my Conscience.  Flor. 
Who I jealous! Then I wish this sigh may be the last that ever I may draw.—  [Sighs. Cel. 
But why do you sigh then?  Flor. 
Nothing but a cold, I cannot fetch my breath well.—— But what will you say if I writ the Letter you had, to try your faith?  Cel. 
Heyday! This is just the Devil and the Sinner; you lay snares for me, and then punish me for being taken; here's trying a man's Faith indeed: What did you think I had the faith of a Stock, or of a Stone? Nay, and you go to tantalise a man,— 'gad I love upon the square, I can endure no tricks to be used to me.  Olinda and Sabina at the door Peeping. Ol. and Sab. 
Celadon, Celadon!  Flor. 
What voices are those?  Cel. 
Some Comrades of mine that call me to play;——— Pox on 'em, they'll spoil all————  A side. Flor. 
Pray let's see 'em.  Cel. 
Hang 'em tatterdemalions, they are not worth your sight; pray Gentlemen be gone, I'll be with you immediately.  Sab. 
No, we'll stay here for you.  Flor. 
Do your Gentlemen speak with Treble-voices.? I am resolved to see what company you keep.  Cel. 
Nay, good my Dear.——  He lays hold of her to pull her back; she lays hold of Olinda, by whom Sabina holds; so that he pulling, they all come in. Flor. 
Are these your Comerades?  [Sings.] 
'Tis Strephon calls what would my love?  
Why do not you roar out like a great Bass-vyal, Come follow to the Myrtle-grove. Pray Sir, which of these fair Ladies is it, for whom you were ' to do the courtesy, for it were unconscionable to leave you to 'em both; What a man's but a man you know.  Olin. 
The Gentleman may find an owner.  Sab. 
Though not of you.  Flor. 
Pray agree whose the lost sheep is, and take him.  Cel. 
'Slife they'll cry me anon, and tell my marks.  Flor. 
Troth I pity your Highness there, I perceive he has left you for the little one: Me thinks he should have been afraid to break his neck when he fell so high as from you to her.  Sab. 
Well my drolling Lady, I may be even with you.—  Flor. 
Not this ten years by thy growth, yet.  Sab. 
Can flesh and blood endure this!—  Flor. 
How now, my Amazon in decimo sexto!—  Olin. 
Do you affront my Sister?———  Flor. 
I, but thou art so tall, I think I shall never affront thee.—  Sab. 
Come away Sister, we shall be jeered to Death else.  [Exeunt Olin. Sab. Flor. 
Why do you look that way, you can'nt forbear leering after the forbidden Fruit.—— But when ere I take a Wenchers word again!—  Cel. 
A Wenchers word! Why should you speak so contemptibly of the better half of Mankind. I'll stand up for the honour of my Vocation.  Flor. 
You are in no fault I warrant;— 'ware my busk—  Cel. 
Not to give a fair Lady the lie, I am in fault;— but otherwise.— Come let us be friends; and let me wait you to your Lodgings.  Flor. 
This impudence shall not save you from my Table-book. Item. A Month more for this fault.—  [They walk to the door. 1. Soldier within. 
Stand.  2. Soldier. 
Stand, give the word.  Cel. 
Now, what's the meaning of this trow, guards set.  1. Soldier. 
Give the word, or you cannot pass; these are they brother; let's in, and seize 'em.  The two Soldiers enter— 1. Sould. 
— Down with him.  2. Sould. 
Disarm him.  Cel. 
How now Rascals;—  Draws and beats one off, and catches the other, Cel. 
Ask your life you villain.  2. Sould. 
Quarter, quarter.  Cel. 
Was ever such an Insolence?  Sould. 
We did but our duty; here we were set, to take a Gentleman and Lady, that would steal a marriage without the Queen's consent, and we thought you had been they.  [Exit Sold Flor. 
Your Cousin Philocles and the Princess Candiope on my life! for I heard the Queen give private Orders to Lysimantes, and name them twice or thrice.  Cel. 
I know a score or two of Madcaps here hard by, whom I can pick up from Taverns and Gaming-houses, and Bordells; those I'll bring to aid him: Now Florimell, there's an argument for wenching; where would you have had so many honest men together upon the sudden for a brave employment?  Flor. 
You'll leave me then to take my fortune?  Cel. 
No; if you will, I'll have you into the places aforesaid, and enter you into good company.  Flor. 
‛ Thank you Sir, here's a key will let me through this backdoor to my own Lodgings.  Cel. 
If I come off with life, I'll see you this evening, if not— Adieu Florimell.—  Flor. 
If you come not I shall conclude you are killed, or taken; to be hanged for a Rebel tomorrow morning,— and then I'll honour your memory with a Lampoon instead of an Epitaph.  Cel. 
No no, I trust better in my Fate: I know I am reserved to do you a Courtesy.  [Exit Celadon. As Florimell is unlocking the door to go out; Flavia opens it against her, and enters to her, followed by a Page. Flau. and Florimell. 
do you hear the News?  Flor. 
I guess they are in pursuit of Philocles.  Flau. 
When Lysimantes came with the Queen's Orders,  
He refused to render up Candiope;  
And with some few brave friends he had about him  
Is forcing of his way through all the Guards.  Flor. 
A gallant fellow: I'll in, will you with me.  
Hark, the noise comes this way!  Flau. 
I have a message from the Queen to Lysimantes,  
I hope I may be safe among the Soldiers.  Flor. 
Oh very safe, perhaps some honest fellow in the tumult may take pity of thy Maidenhead, or so— Adieu.  Page 1. 
The noise comes nearer, Madam.  [Exit Florimell. Flau. 
I am glad on't: this message gives me the opportunity of speaking privately with Lysimantes.  Enter Philocles and Candiope, with three friends; pursued by Lysimantes and Soldiers. Lys. 
What is it renders you thus obstinate? you have no hope of flight, and to resist is full as vain.  Phil. 
I'll die, rather than yield her up.  Flau. 
My Lord!  Lys. 
how now, some new message from the Queen?  To Sould.] 
Retire a while to a convenient distance.  Lys. and Flau. whisper. Lys. 
O Flavia 'tis impossible! the Queen in love with Philocles!  Flau. 
I half suspected it before; but now,  
My ears and eyes are witnesses.—  
This hour I overheard her to Asteria.  
Making such sad complaints of her hard fate!  
For my part I believe you lead him back  
But to his Coronation.  Lys. 
Hell take him first.  Flau. 
Presently after this she called for me,  
And bid me run, and with strict care command you  
On peril of your life he had no harm:  
But, Sir, she spoke it with so great concernment,  
Me thought I saw love, anger and despair  
All combating at once upon her face.  Lys. 
Tell the Queen— I know not what, I am distracted so;—  
But go and leave me to my thoughts.—  [Exit Flavia. 
Was ever such amazing news  
Told in so strange and critical a moment!  
What shall I do!  
Does she love Philocles, who loves not her;  
And loves not Lysimantes who prefers her  
Above his life! what rests but that I take  
This opportunity, which she herself  
Has given me, to kill this happy Rival!  
Assist me Soldiers.  Phil. 
They shall buy me dearly.  Cand. 
Ah me, unhappy maid!  Enter Celadon with his Friends, unbuttoned and reeling. Cel. 
Courage my noble Cousin, I have brought  
A band of Blades, the bravest youths of Syracuse:  
Some drunk, some sober, all resolved to run  
Your fortune to the utmost. Fall on mad Boys——  Lys. 
Hold, a little;—  
I'm not secured of victory against these desperate ruffians.  Cel. 
No, but I'll secure you; they shall cut your throat for such another word of 'em. Ruffians quoth a! call Gamesters, and Whoremasters, and Drunkards, Ruffians!—  Lys. 
Pray Gentlemen fall back a little—  Cel. 
O ho, are they Gentlemen now with you!  
Speak first to your Gentlemen Soldiers to retire; and then  
I'll speak to my Gentlemen Ruffians.  [Cel. Signs to his party,] 
There's your disciplined men now.—  They sing and the Soldiers retire on both sides. 
Come Gentlemen, let's lose no time; while they are talking, let's have one merry main before we die— for Mortality sake.  1. 
Agreed, here's my Cloak for a Table.  2. 
And my Hat for a Box.—  [They lie down and throw. Lys. 
Suppose I killed him!  
'Twould but exasperate the Queen the more:  
He loves not her, nor knows he she loves him:  
A sudden thought is come into my head—  
So to contrive it, that this Philocles,  
And these his friends shall bring to pass that for me  
Which I could never compass.— True I strain  
A point of honour; but then her usage to me, it shall be so—  
Pray, Philocles, command your Soldiers off,  
As I will mine: I've somewhat to propose  
Which you perhaps may like.  Cand. 
I will not leave him.  Lys. 
— 'Tis my desire you should not.  Phil. 
— Cousin, lead off your friends.  Cel. 
— One word in your ear Cousin. Let me advise you; either make your own conditions, or never agree with him: his men are poor sober Rogues, they can never stand before us.  Exeunt omnes praeter Lys. Phil. Cand. Lys. 
Suppose some friend, ere night,  
Should bring you to possess all you desire;  
And not so only, but secure for ever  
The Nations happiness—  Phil. 
I would think of him  
As of some God, or Angel.  Lys. 
That God or Angel you and I may be to one another,  
We have betwixt us  
An hundred men; The Citadel you govern:  
What were it now to seize the Queen!  Phil. 
O impiety! to seize the Queen!  
To seize her, said you?  Lys. 
The word might be too rough, I meant secure her.  Phil. 
Was this your proposition,  
And had you none to make it to but to me?  Lys. 
Pray hear me out ere you condemn me:  
I would not the least violence were offered  
Her person; two small grants is all I ask,  
To make me happy in herself, and you  
In your Candiope.  Cand. 
And will not you do this, my Philocles?  
Nay now my Brother speaks but reason.  Phil. 
Interest makes all seem reason that leads to it.  
Interest that does the zeal of Sects create,  
To purge a Church, and to reform a State.  Lys. 
In short, the Queen hath sent to part you two;  
What more she means to her, I know not.  Phil. 
To her! alas! why will not you protect her?  Lys. 
With you I can; but where's my power alone?  Cand. 
You know she loves me not: you lately heard her  
How she insulted over me: how she  
Despised that beauty which you say I have;  
I see she purposes my death.  Phil. 
Why do you fright me with it?  
'Tis in your Brother's power to let us escape,  
And then you run no danger.  Lys. 
True, I may;  
But then my head must pay the forfeit of it.  Phil. 
O wretched Philocles, whither would love  
Hurry thee headlong!  Lys. 
Cease these exclamations.  
there's no danger on your side: 'tis but  
To live without my Sister, resolve that  
And you have shot the gulf.  Phil. 
To live without her! is that nothing think you?  
The damned in Hell endure no greater pain  
Then seeing Heaven from far with hopeless eyes.  Cand. 
Candiope must die, and die for you;  
See it not unrevenged at least.  Phil. 
Ha', unrevenged! on whom should I revenge it?  
But yet she dies, and I may hinder it;  
'Tis I then murder my Candiope:  
And yet should I take arms against my Queen!  
That favoured me, raised me to what I am!  
Alas, it must not be.  Lys. 
He cools again.—  aside.] 
True; she once favoured you;  
But now I am informed,  
She is besotted on an upstart wretch;  
So far, that she intends to make him Master,  
Both of her Crown and person.  Phil. 
Knows he that!  
Then, what I dreaded most is come to pass.—  [aside. 
I am convinced of the necessity;  
Let us make haste to raze  
That action from Annals of her Reign:  
No motive but her glory could have wrought me.  
I am a Traitor to her, to preserve her  
From Treason to herself; and yet Heaven knows  
With what a heavy heart  
Philocles turns reformer: but have care  
This fault of her strange passion take no air.  
Let not the vulgar blow upon her fame.  Lys. 
I will be careful, shall we go my Lord:  Phil. 
Time wastes apace; Each first prepare his men.  
Come my Candiope.—  Exeunt Phil. Cand. Lys. 
This ruins him forever with the Queen;  
The odium's half his, the profit all my own.  
Those who, like me, by others help would climb,  
To make 'em sure, must dip 'em in their crime.  Exit Lys.  

SCENE II. The Queen's apartments.  Enter Queen and Asteria. Qu. 
No more news yet from Philocles?  Ast. 
None, Madam, since Flavia's return!  Qu. 
O my Asteria, if you loved me, sure  
You would say something to me of my Philocles;  
I could speak ever of him.  Ast. 
Madam, you commanded me no more to name him to you.  Qu. 
Then I command you now to speak of nothing else:  
I charge you here, on your allegiance, tell me  
What I should do with him.  Ast. 
When you gave orders that he should be taken,  
You seemed resolved how to dispose of him.  Qu. 
Dull Asteria not to know,  
Mad people never think the same thing twice.  
Alas, I'm hurried restless up and down,  
I was in anger once, and then I thought  
I had put into shore!  
But now a gust of love blows hard against me,  
And bears me off again.  Ast. 
Shall I sing the Song you made of Philocles,  
And called it Secret-love.  Qu. 
Do, for that's all kindness: and while thou singest it,  
I can think nothing but what pleases me.  

Song.  

I Feed a flame within which so torments me  
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:  
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,  
That I had rather die, then once remove it.   

Yet he for whom I grieve shall never know it,  
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it:  
Not a sigh nor a tear my pain discloses,  
But they fall silently like dew on Roses.   

Thus to prevent my love from being cruel,  
My heart's the sacrifice as 'tis the fuel:  
And while I suffer this to give him quiet,  
My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.   

On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;  
While I conceal my love, no frown can fright me:  
To be more happy I dare not aspire;  
Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.    Qu. 
Peace: Me thinks I hear the noise  
Of clashing Swords, and clattering Arms, below.  Enter Flavia. 
Now; what news that you press in so rudely?  Flau. 
Madam, the worst that can be;  
Your Guards upon the sudden are surprised,  
Disarmed, some slain, all scattered.  Qu. 
By whom?  Flau. 
Prince Lysimantes, and Lord Philocles.  Qu. 
It cannot be; Philocles is a Prisoner.  Flau. 
What my eyes saw—  Qu. 
Pull 'em out, they are false Spectacles.  Ast. 
O virtue, impotent and blind as Fortune!  
Who would be good, or pious, if this Queen  
Thy great Example suffers!  Qu. 
Peace, Asteria, accuse not virtue;  
She has but given me a great occasion  
Of showing what I am when Fortune leaves me.  Ast. 
Philocles, to do this!  Qu. 
I, Philocles, I must confess 'twas hard!  
But there's a fate in kindness  
Still, to be least returned where most 'tis given.  
Where's Candiope?  Flau. 
Philocles was whispering to her.  Qu. 
Hence Screech-owl; call my Guards quickly there:  
Put 'em apart in several Prisons.  
Alas! I had forgot I have no Guards,  
But those which are my Jailers.  
Never till now unhappy Queen:  
The use of power, till lost, is seldom known;  
Now I would strike, I find my Thunder gone.  Exit Queen and Flavia. Philocles enters, and meets Asteria going out. Phil. 
Asteria! Where's the Queen?  Ast. 
Ah my Lord what have you done!  
I came to seek you.  Phil. 
Is it from her you come?  Ast. 
No, but on her behalf: her heart's too great,  
In this low ebb of Fortune, to entreat.  Phil. 
'Tis but a short Eclipse,  
Which passed, a glorious day will soon ensue:  
But I would ask a favour too, from you.  Ast. 
When Conquerors petition, they command:  
Those that can Captive Queens, who can withstand?  Phil. 
She, with her happiness, might mine create;  
‛ Yet seems indulgent to her own ill fate:  
But she, in secret, hates me fure; for why  
If not, should she Candiope deny?  Ast. 
If you dare trust my knowledge of her mind,  
She has no thoughts of you that are unkind.  Phil. 
I could my sorrows with some patience bear,  
Did they proceed from any one but her:  
But from the Queen! whose person I adore,  
By Duty much, by inclination more.——  Ast. 
He is inclined already, did he know  
That she loved him, how would his passion grow!  [aside. Phil. 
That her fair hand with Destiny combines!—  
Fate ne'er strikes deep, but when unkindness joins!  
For, to confess the secret of my mind,  
Something so tender for the Queen I find,  
That even Candiope can scarce remove,  
And, were she lower, I should call it love.  Ast. 
She charged me not this secret to betray,  
But I best serve her if I disobey:  
For, if he loves, 'twas for her interest done;  
If not, he'll keep it secret for his own.  [aside. Phil. 
Why are you in obliging me so slow?  Ast. 
The thing's of great importance you would know;  
And you must first swear secrecy to all.  Phil. 
I swear:  (Ast.) 
Yet hold; your oath's too general:  
Swear that Candiope shall never know.  Phil. 
I swear:  (Ast.) 
No not the Queen herself:  (Phil.) 
I vow.  Ast. 
You wonder why I am so cautious grown  
In telling, what concerns yourself alone:  
But spare my Vow, and guests what it may be  
That makes the Queen deny Candiope:  
'Tis neither hate nor pride that moves her mind;  
Methinks the Riddle is not hard to find.  Phil. 
You seem so great a wonder to intent,  
As were, in me, a crime to apprehend.  Ast. 
'Tis not a crime, to know; but would be one  
To prove ungrateful when your Duty's known.  Phil. 
Why would you thus my easy faith abuse!  
I cannot think the Queen so ill would choose.  
But stav, now your imposture will appear;  
She has herself confessed she loved elsewhere:  
Or some ignoble choice has placed her heart,  
One who wants quality, and more, desert.  Ast. 
This, though unjust, you have most right to say,  
For, if you'll rail against yourself, you may  Phil. 
Dull that I was!  
A thousand things now crowd my memory  
That make me know it could be none but I.  
Her Rage was Love: and its tempestuous flame,  
Like Lightning, showed the Heaven from whence it came.  
But in her kindness my own shame I see;  
Have I dethroned her then, for loving me?  
I hate myself for that which I have done,  
Much more, discovered, than I did unknown.  
How does she brook her strange imprisonment?  Ast 
As great souls should, that make their own content.  
The hardest term she for your act could find  
Was only this, O Philocles, unkind!  
Then, setting free a sigh, from her fair eyes  
She wiped two pearls, the remnants of mild showers,  
Which hung, like drops upon the bells of flowers:  
And thanked the heavens,  
Which better did, what she designed, pursue,  
Without her crime to give her power to you.  Phil. 
Hold, hold, you set my thoughts so near a Crown,  
They mount above my reach to pull them down:  
Here Constancy; Ambition there does move;  
On each side Beauty, and on both sides Love.  Ast. 
Me thinks the least you can is to receive  
This love, with reverence, and your former leave.  Phil. 
Think but what difficulties come between!  Ast. 
'Tis wondrous difficult to love a Queen.  Phil. 
For pity cease more reasons to provide,  
I am but too much yielding to your side;  
And, were my heart but at my own dispose,  
I should not make a scruple where to choose.  Ast. 
Then if the Queen will my advice approve,  
Her hatred to you shall expel her love.  Phil. 
Not to be loved by her, as hard would be  
As to be hated by Candiope.  Ast. 
I leave you to resolve while you have time;  
You must be guilty, but may choose your crime.  Exit Asteria. Phil. 
One thing I have resolved; and that I'll do  
Both for my love, and for my honour too.  
But then, (Ingratitude and falsehood weighed,)  
I know not which would most my soul upbraid.  
Fate shoves me headlong down, a rugged way;  
Unsafe to run, and yet too steep to stay.  [Exit Phil.   

ACT V.  
SCENE The Court.  Florimell in Man's Habit. 
IT Will be rare now if I can go through with it, to outdo this mad Celadon in all his tricks, and get both his Mistresses from him; then I shall revenge myself upon all three, and save my own stake into the bargain; for I find I do love the Rogue in spite of all his infidelities. Yonder they are, and this way they must come.— if clothes and a bon mien will take 'em, I shall do't.— Save you Monsieur Florimell; Faith me thinks you are a very janty fellow, poudré & ajusté as well as the best of 'em. I can manage the little Comb,— set my Hat, shake my Garniture, toss about my empty Noddle, walk with a courant slur, and at every step peck down my Head:— if I should be mistaken for some Courtier now, pray where's the difference?—  Enter to her Celadon, Olinda, Sabina. Olin. 
Never mince the matter!  Sab. 
You have left your heart behind with Florimell; we know it.  Cel. 
You know you wrong me; when I am with Florimell 'tis still your Prisoner, it only draws a longer chain after it.  Flor. 
Is it even so! then farewell poor Florimell, thy Maidenhead is condemned to die with thee—  [aside. Cel. 
But let's leave the discourse; 'tis all digression that does not speak of your beauties.—  Flor. 
Now for me in the name of impudence!— [walks with them. They are the greatest beauties I confess that ever I beheld.—  Cel. 
How now, what's the meaning of this young fellow?  Flor. 
And therefore I cannot wonder that this Gentleman who has the honour to be known to you should admire you,— since I that am a stranger—  Cel. 
And a very impudent one, as I take it, Sir.—  Flor. 
Am so extremely surprised, that I admire, love, am wounded, and am dying all in a moment.  Cel. 
I have seen him somewhere, but where I know not! prithee my friend leave us, dost thou think we do not know our way in Court?  Flor. 
I pretend not to instruct you in your way; you see I do not go before you! but you cannot possibly deny me the happiness to wait upon these Ladies; me, who.—  Cel. 
Thee, who shalt be beaten most unmercifully if thou dost follow them!—  Flor. 
You will not draw in Court I hope!—  Cel. 
Pox on him, let's walk away faster, and be rid of him.—  Flor. 
O take no care for me, Sir, you shall not lose me, I'll rather mend my pace then not wait on you.  Olin. 
I begin to like this fellow.—  Cel. 
You make very bold here in my Seraglio, and I shall find a time to tell you so, Sir.  Flor. 
When you find a time to tell me on't, I shall find a time to answer you: But pray what do you find in yourself so extraordinary, that you should serve these Ladies better than I; let me know what 'tis you value yourself upon, and let them Judge betwixt us.  Cel. 
I am somewhat more a man than you.  Flor. 
That is, you are so much older than I: Do you like a man ever the better for his age Ladies?  Sab. 
Well said, young Gentleman.  Cel. 
Pish, thee! a young raw Creature, thou hast ne'er been under the Barber's hands yet.  Flor. 
No, nor under the Surgeons neither as you have been.  Cel. 
'Slife what wouldst thou be at, I am madder than thou art?  Flor. 
The Devil you are; I'll Tope with you, I'll Sing with you, I'll Dance with you,— I'll Swagger with you.—  Cel. 
I'll fight with you.  Flor. 
Out upon fight; 'tis grown so common a fashion, that a Modish man contemns it; A man of Garniture and Feather is above the dispensation of the Sword.  Olin. 
ud's my life, here's the Queen's Music just going to us; you shall decide your quarrel by a Dance.  Sab. 
Who stops the Fiddles?  Cel. 
Base and Treble, by your leaves we arrest you at these Lady's suits.  Flor. 
Come on Sirs, play me a Jig,  
You shall see how I'll baffle him.  Dance. Flor. 
Your judgement, Ladies.  Olin. 
You sir, you sir: This is the rarest Gentleman: I could live and die with him.——  Sab. 
Lord how he Sweats! please you Sir to make use of my Handkerchief:  Olin. 
You and I are merry, and just of an humour Sir; therefore we two should love one another.  Sab. 
And you and I are just of an age Sir, and therefore me thinks we should not hate one another.  Cel. 
Then I perceive Ladies I am a Castaway, a Reprobate with you: why faith this is hard luck now, that I should be no less than one whole hour in getting your affections, and now must lose 'em in a quarter of it.  Olin. 
No matter, let him rail, does the loss afflict you Sir?  Cel. 
No in faith does it not; for if you had not forsaken me, I had you: so the Willows may flourish for any branches I shall rob 'em of.  Sab. 
However we have the advantage to have left you; not you us.  Cel. 
That's only a certain nimbleness in Nature you women have to be first unconstant: but if you had not made the more haste, the wind was veering too upon my Weathercock: the best on't is Florimell is worth both of you.  Flor. 
'Tis like she'll accept of their leave.  Cel. 
She will accept on't, and she shall accept on't; I think I know more than you of her mind Sir.  Enter Melissa. Mel. 
Daughter's there's a poor collation within that waits for you.  Flor. 
Will you walk musty Sir?  Cel. 
No merry Sir; I won'not; I have surfeited of that old woman's face already.  Flor. 
Begin some frolic then; what will you do for her?  Cel. 
Faith I am no dog to show tricks for her; I cannot come aloft for an old Woman.  Flor. 
Dare you kiss her!  Cel. 
I was never dared by any man.— by your leave old Madam.—  [He plucks of her Ruff. Mel. 
Help, help, do you discover my nakedness?  Cel. 
Peace Tiffany! no harm.  [He puts on the Ruff.— 
Now Sir here's Florimels' health to you.—  [kisses her. Mel. 
Away sir:— a sweet young man as you are to abuse the gifts of Nature so.  Cel. 
Good Mother do not commend me so; I am flesh and blood, and you do not know what you may pluck upon that reverend person of yours.— Come on, follow your leader.  [Gives Florimell the Ruff, she puts it on. Flor. 
Stand fair Mother.—  Cel. 
What with your Hat on? lie thou there;— and thou too.—  Plucks off her Hat and Peruke, and discovers Florimell. Omnes. 
Florimell!  Flor. 
My kind Mistresses how sorry I am I can do you no further service! I think I had best resign you to Celadon to make amends for me.  Cel. 
Lord what a misfortune it was Ladies, that the Gentleman could not hold forth to you.  Olin. 
We have lost Celadon too.  Mel. 
Come away; this is past enduring.  [Exeunt Mel. Olin. Sab. 
Well, if ever I believe a man to be a man for the sake of a Perruks and Feather again.—  [Exit. Flor. 
Come Celadon, shall we make accounts even? Lord what a hanging look was there: indeed if you had been recreant to your Mistress, or had forsworn your love, that sinner's face had been but decent, but for the virtuous, the innocent, the constant Celadon!  Cel. 
This is not very heroic in you now to insult over a man in his misfortunes; but take heed, you have robbed me of my two Mistresses; I shall grow desperately constant, and all the tempest of my love will fall upon your head: I shall so pay you.  Flor. 
Who you, pay me! you are a bankrupt, cast beyond all possibility of recovery.  Cel. 
If I am a bankrupt I'll be a very honest one; when I cannot pay my debts, at least I'll give you up the possession of my body.  Flor. 
No, I'll deal better with you; since you're unable to pay, I'll give in your bond.  Enter Philocles with a Commanders Staff in his hand, Attended. Phil. 
Cousin I am sorry I must take you from your company about an earnest business.  Flor. 
There needs no excuse my Lord, we had dispatched our affairs, and were just parting.——  [Going. Cel. 
Will you be going Sir; sweet Sir, damned Sir, I have but one word more to say to you.  Flor. 
As I a man of Honour, I'll wait on you some other time.—  Cel. 
By these Breeches.— Flor. which if I marry you I am resolved to wear; put that into our Bargain, and so adieu Sir.—  [Exit Florimell. Phil. 
Hark you Cousin——  (They whisper.) 
You'll see it exactly executed; I rely upon you.  Cel. 
I shall not fail, my Lord; may the conclusion of it prove happy to you.  Exit Celadon. Philocles solus. 
wherever I cast about my wondering eyes,  
Greatness lies ready in some shape to tempt me.  
The royal furniture in every room,  
The Guards, and the huge waving crowds of people,  
All waiting for a sight of that fair Queen  
Who makes a present of her love to me:  
Now tell me, Stoic!—  
If all these with a wish might be made thine,  
Wouldst thou not truck thy ragged virtue for 'em?  
If Glory was a bait that Angels swallowed  
How then should souls allied to sense, resist it!  Enter Candiope. 
Ah poor Candiope! I pity her,  
But that is all.—  Cand. 
O my dear Philocles! A thousand blessings wait on thee!  
The hope of being thine, I think will put  
Me past my meat and sleep with ecstasy,  
So I shall keep the fasts of Seraphim's,  
And wake for joy like Nightingales in May.  Phil. 
Wake Philocles, wake from thy dream of glory,  
'Tis all but shadow to Candiope:  
Canst thou betray a love so innocent!—  [Aside. Cand. 
What makes you melancholic? I doubt  
I have displeased you?  Phil. 
No my love, I'm not displeased with you,  
But with myself, when I consider  
How little I deserve you.  Cand. 
Say not so my Philocles, a love so true as yours  
That would have left a Court, and a Queen's favour  
To live in a poor Hermitage with me.—  Phil. 
Ha! she has stung me to the quick!  
As if she knew the falsehood I intended:  
But, I thank Heaven, it has recalled my virtue.—  [aside. [To her] 
O my dear, I love you, and you only;  
Go in I have some business for a while;  
But I think minute's ages till we meet.  Cand. 
I knew you had; but yet I could not choose  
But come and look upon you.—  [Exit Candiope. Phil. 
What barbarous man could wrong so sweet a virtue!  Enter the Queen in black with Asteria. 
Madam, the States are strait to meet; but why  
In these dark ornaments will you be seen?  Qu. 
— They fit the fortune of a Captive Queen.  Phil. 
— Deep shades are thus to heighten colours set;  
So Stars in Night, and Diamonds shine in Jet.  Qu. 
True friends should so, in dark afflictions shine,  
But I have no great cause to boast of mine.  Phil. 
You may have too much prejudice for some,  
And think 'em false before their trial's come.  
But, Madam, what determine you to do?  Qu. 
I come not here to be advised by you:  
But charge you by that power which once you owned,  
And which is still my right, even when unthroned;  
That whatsoever the States resolve of me,  
You never more think of Candiope.  Phil. 
Not think of her! ah, how should I obey!  
Her tyrant eyes have forced my heart away.  Qu. 
By force retake it from those tyrant eyes,  
I'll grant you out my Letters of Reprize.  Phil. 
She has, too well, prevented that design  
By giving me her heart in change for mine.  Qu. 
Thus foolish Indians Gold for Glass forgo,  
'Twas to your loss you prized your heart so low.  
I set its value when you were advanced.  
And as my favours grew, its rate enhanced.  Phil. 
The rate of Subject's hearts by yours must go,  
And love in yours has set the value low.  Qu. 
I stand corrected, and myself reprove,  
You teach me to repent my low-placed love:  
Help me this passion from my heart to tear,  
Now rail on him, and I will sit and hear.  Phil. 
Madam, like you, I have repent too,  
And dare not rail on one I do not know.  Qu. 
This, Philocles, like strange perverseness shows,  
As if what e'er I said, you would oppose;  
How come you thus concerned, for this unknown?  Phil. 
I only judge his actions by my own.  Qu. 
I've heard too much, and you too much have said,  
OH heavens, the secret of my soul's betrayed!  
He knows my love, I read it in his face,  
And blushes, conscious of his Queen's disgrace.—  [aside. [To him.] 
Hence quickly, hence, or I shall die with shame.  Phil. 
Now I love both, and both with equal flame.  
Wretched I came, more wretched I retire,  
When two winds blow it who can quench the fire!  Exit Philocles. Qu. 
O my Asteria, I know not whom t'accuse;  
But either my own eyes or you, have told  
My love to Philocles.  Ast. 
Is't possible that he should know it, Madam!  Qu. 
Me thinks you asked that question guiltily.  Her hand on Ast. shoulder. 
Confess, for I will know, what was the subject of your long discourse  
I'th' Antichamber with him.  Ast. 
It was my business to convince him, Madam,  
How ill he did, being so much obliged,  
To join in your imprisonment.  Qu. 
Nay, now I am confirmed my thought was true;  
For you could give him no such reason  
Of his obligements as my love.  Ast. 
Because I saw him much a Malcontent,  
I thought to win him to your interest, Madam,  
By telling him it was no want of kindness  
Made your refusal of Candiope.  
And he perhaps— (Qu.) What of him now!  Ast. 
As men are apt, interpreted my words  
To all th'advantage he could wrest the sense,  
As if I meant you Loved him.  Qu. 
Have I deposited within thy breast  
The dearest treasure of my life, my glory,  
And hast thou thus betrayed me!  
But why do I accuse thy female weakness,  
And not my own for trusting thee!  
Unhappy Queen, Philocles knows thy fondness,  
And needs must think it done by thy Command.  Ast. 
Dear Madam, think not so.  Qu. 
Peace, peace, thou shouldst for ever hold thy tongue.  
For it has spoke too much for all thy life.—  [To her. 
Then Philocles has told Candiope,  
And courts her kindness with his scorn of me.  
O whither am I fallen! But I must rouse myself, and give a stop  
To all these ills by headlong passion caused;  
In hearts resolved weak love is put to flight,  
And only conquers when we dare not fight.  
But we indulge our harms, and while he gains  
An entrance, please ourselves into our pains.  Enter Lysimantes. Ast. 
Prince Lysimantes, Madam!—  Qu. 
Come near you poor deluded criminal;  
See how ambition cheats you:  
You thought to find a Prisoner here,  
But you behold a Queen.  Lys. 
And may you long be so: 'tis true this Act  
May cause some wonder in your Majesty.  Qu. 
None, Cousin, none; I ever thought you  
Ambitious, Proud, designing.  Lys. 
Yet all my Pride, Designs, and my Ambition  
Were taught me by a Master  
With whom you are not unacquainted, Madam.  Qu. 
Explain yourself; dark purposes, like yours,  
Need an Interpretation.  Lys. 
'Tis love I mean. (Qu.) Have my low fortunes given thee  
This insolence, to name it to thy Queen?  Lys. 
Yet you have heard love named without offence.  
As much below you as you think my passion,  
I can look down on yours.—  Qu. 
Does he know it too!  
This is th'extremest malice of my Stars!—  [aside. Lys. 
You see, that Prince's faults,  
(How ere they think 'em safe from public view)  
Fly out through the dark crannies of their Closets:  
We know what the Sun does,  
Even when we see him not in t'other world.  Qu. 
My actions, Cousin, never feared the light.  Lys. 
Produce him then, your darling of the dark,  
For such an one you have. (Qu.) I know no such.  Lys. 
You know, but will not own him.  Qu. 
Rebels ne'er want pretence to blacken Kings,  
And this, it seems, is yours: do you produce him,  
Or ne'er hereafter sully my Renown  
With this aspersion:— Sure he dares not name him.—  [aside. Lys. 
I am too tender of your fame; or else—  
Nor are things brought to that extremity:  
Provided you accept my passion,  
I'll gladly yield to think I was deceived.  Qu. 
Keep in your error still; I will not buy  
Your good opinion at so dear a rate,  
As my own misery by being yours.  Lys. 
Do not provoke my patience by such scorns,  
For fear I break through all, and name him to you.  Qu. 
Hope not to fright me with your mighty looks;  
Know I dare stem that tempest in your brow,  
And dash it back upon you.  Lys. 
Spite of prudence it will out: 'Tis Philocles.  
Now judge, when I was made a property  
To cheat myself by making him your Prisoner,  
Whether I had not right to take up arms?  Qu. 
Poor envious wretch! was this the venom that swelled up thy breast?  
My grace to Philocles misdeemed my love!  Lys. 
'Tis true, the Gentleman is innocent;  
He ne'er sinned up so high, not in his wishes;  
You know he loves elsewhere.  Qu. 
You mean your Sister.  Lys. 
I wish some Sibyl now would tell me  
Why you refused her to him?  Qu. 
Perhaps I did not think him worthy of her.  Lys. 
Did you not think him too worthy, Madam?  
This is too thin a vail to hinder your passion,  
To prove you love him not, yet give her him,  
And I'll engage my honour to lay down my Arms  Qu. 
He is arrived where I would wish—  aside.] 
Call in the company, and you shall see what I will do.——  Lys. 
Who waits without there?—  [Exit Lys. Qu. 
Now hold, my heart, for this one act of honour,  
And I will never ask more courage of thee:  
Once more I have the means to reinstate myself into my glory;  
I feel my love to Philocles within me  
Shrink, and pull back my heart from this hard trial,  
But it must be when glory says it must:  
As children wading from some River's bank  
First try the water with their tender feet;  
Then shuddering up with cold, step back again,  
And straight a little further venture on,  
Till at the last they plunge into the deep,  
And pass, at once, what they were doubting long:  
I'll make the same experiment; it shall be done in haste,  
Because I'll put it past my power t'undo.  Enter at one door Lysimantes, at the other Philocles, Celadon, Candiope, Florimell, Flavia, Olinda, Sabina; the three Deputies, and Soldiers. Lys. 
In Arms! is all well, Philocles?  Phil. 
No, but it shall be.  Qu. 
He comes, and with him  
The fever of my love returns to shake me.  
I see love is not banished from my soul,  
He is still there, but is chained up by glory.  Ast. 
You have made a noble conquest, Madam.  Qu. 
Come hither, Philocles: I am first to tell you  
I and my Cousin are agreed, he has  
Engaged to lay down Arms.  Phil. 
'Tis well for him he has; for all his party  
By my command already are surprised,  
While I was talking with your Majesty.  Cel. 
Yes i'faith I have done him that courtesy; I brought his followers, under pretence of guarding it, to a strait place where they are all cooped up without use of their Arms, and may be pelted to death by the small infantry o'the town.  Qu. 
IT was more than I expected, or could hope;  
Yet still I thought your meaning honest.  Phil. 
My fault was rashness, but 'twas full of zeal:  
Nor had I e'er been led to that attempt,  
Had I not seen it would be done without me:  
But by compliance I preserved the power  
Which I have since made use of for your service.  Qu. 
And which I purpose so to recompense.—  Lys. 
With her Crown she means; I knew 'twould come to it.  [aside. Phil. 
O heavens, she'll own her love!  
Then I must lose Candiope for ever,  
And floating in a vast abyss of glory,  
Seek and not, find myself!——  [aside. Qu. 
Take your Candiope; and be as happy  
As love can make you both:— how pleased I am  
That I can force my tongue,  
To speak words so far distant from my heart!—  [aside. Cand. 
My happiness is more than I can utter!  Lys. 
Methinks I could do violence on myself for taking Arms.  
Against a Queen so good, so bountiful:  
Give me leave, Madam, in my ecstasy  
Of joy, to give you thanks for Philocles.  
You have preserved my friend, and now he owes not  
His fortunes only to your favour; but  
What's more, his life, and more than that, his love.  
I am convinced, she never loved him now;  
Since by her free consent, all force removed  
She gives him to my Sister.  
Flavia was an Impostor and deceived me.—  [aside. Phil. 
As for me, Madam, I can only say  
That I beg respite for my thanks; for on the sudden,  
The benefit's so great it overwhelmes me.  Ast. 
Mark but th' faintness of th' acknowledgement.  to the Qu. aside. Qu. to Ast.] 
I have observed it with you, and am pleased  
He seems not satisfied; for I still wish  
That he may love me.  Phil. 
I see Asteria deluded me  
With flattering hopes of the Queens love  
Only to draw me off from Lysimantes:—  
But I will think no more on't.  
I'm going to possess Candiope,  
And I am ravished with the joy on't! ha'!  
Not ravished neither.  
For what can be more charming than that Queen!  
Behold how night sits lovely on her eyebrows,  
While day breaks from her eyes! then, a Crown too:  
Lost, lost, for ever lost, and now 'tis gone  
'Tis beautiful.———————  aside. Ast. 
How he eyes you still!————  to the Queen. Phil. 
Sure I had one of the fallen Angels Dreams;  
All Heaven within this hour was mine!————  aside. Cand. 
What is it that disturbs you Dear?  Phil. 
Only the greatness of my joy:  
I've ta'en too strong a Cordial, love,  
And cannot yet digest it.  [Qu. Clapping her hand on Asteria] 
'Tis done! but this pang more; and then a glorious birth.  
The Tumults of this day, my loyal Subjects  
Have settled in my heart a resolution,  
Happy for you, and glorious too for me.  
First for my Cousin, though attempting on my person,  
He has incurred the danger of the Laws,  
I will not punish him.  Lys. 
You bind me ever to my loyalty.  Qu. 
Then, that I may oblige you more to it.  
I here declare you rightful successor,  
And heir immediate to my Crown:  
This, Gentlemen,——————  [to the Deputies. 
I hope will still my subjects discontents,  
When they behold succession firmly settled.  [Deputies.] 
Heaven preserve your Majesty.  Qu. 
As for myself I have resolved  
Still to continue as I am, unmarried:  
The cares, observances, and all the duties  
Which I should pay an Husband, I will place  
Upon my people; and our mutual love  
Shall make a blessing more than Conjugal.  
And this the States shall ratify.  Lys. 
Heaven bear me witness that I take no joy  
In the succession of a Crown.  
Which must descend to me so sad away.  Qu. 
Cousin, no more; my resolution's past,  
Which fate shall never alter.  Phil. 
Then, I am once more happy:  
For since none can possess her I am pleased  
With my own choice, and will desire no more.  
For multiplying wishes is a curse  
That keep the mind still painfully awake:  Qu. 
Celadon!  
You care and loyalty have this day obliged me;  
But how to be acknowledging I know not,  
Unless you give the means.  Cel. 
I was in hope your Majesty had forgot me; therefore if you please, Madam, I only beg a pardon for having taken up arms once to day against you; for I have a foolish kind of Conscience, which I wish many of your Subjects had, that will not let me ask a recompense for my loyalty, when I know I have been a Rebel.  Qu. 
Your modesty shall not serve the turn; Ask something.  Cel. 
Then I beg, Madam, you will command Florimell never to be friends with me.  Flor. 
Ask again; I grant that without the Queen: But why are you afraid on't?  Cel. 
Because I am sure as soon as ever you are, you'll marry me.  Flor. 
Do you fear it?  Cel. 
No, 'twill come with a fear.  Flor. 
If you do, I will not stick with you for an Oath.  Cel. 
I require no Oath till we come to Church; and then after the Priest, I hope; for I find it will be my destiny to marry thee.  Flor. 
If ever I say word after the black Gentleman for thee Celadon—  Cel. 
Then I hope you'll give me leave to bestow a faithful heart elsewhere.  Flor. 
I but if you would have one you must be speak it, for I am sure you have none ready made.  Cel. 
What say you, shall I marry Flavia?  Flor. 
No, she'll be too cunning for you.  Cel. 
What say you to Olinda then? she's tall, and fair, and bonny.  Flor. 
And foolish, and apish, and fickle.  Cel. 
But Sabina, there's pretty, and young, and loving, and innocent.  Flor. 
And dwarfish, and childish, and fond, and flippant: if you marry her Sister you will get Maypoles, and if you marry her you will get Fairies to dance about them.  Cel. 
Nay then the case is clear, Florimell; if you take 'em all from me, 'tis because you reserve me for yourself.  Flor. 
But this Marriage is such a Bugbear to me; much might be if we could invent but any way to make it easy.  Cel. 
Some foolish people have made it uneasy, by drawing the knot faster than they need; but we that are wiser will loosen it a little.  Flor. 
'Tis true indeed, there's some difference betwixt a Girdle and an Halter.  Cel. 
As for the first year according to the laudable custom of new married people, we shall follow one another up into Chambers, and down into Gardens, and think we shall never have enough of one another.— So far 'tis pleasant enough I hope.  Flor. 
But after that, when we begin to live like Husband and Wife, and never come near one another— what then Sir?  Cel. 
Why then our only happiness must be to have one mind, and one will, Florimell.  Flor. 
One mind if thou wilt, but prithee let us have two wills; for I find one will be little enough for me alone: But how if those wills should meet and clash, Celadon?  Cel. 
I warrant thee for that: Husbands and Wives keep their wills far enough asunder for ever meeting: one thing let us be sure to agree on, that is, never to be jealous.  Flor. 
No; but even love one another as long as we can; and confess the truth when we can love no longer.  Cel. 
When I have been at play, you shall never ask me what money I have lost.  Flor. 
When I have been abroad you shall never inquire who treated me.  Cel. 
Item, I will have the liberty to sleep all night, without your interrupting my repose for any evil design whatsoever.  Flor. 
Item, Than you shall bid me good night before you sleep.  Cel. 
Provided always, that whatever liberties we take with other people, we continue very honest to one another.  Flor. 
As far as will consist with a pleasant life.  Cel. 
Lastly, Whereas the names of Husband and Wife hold forth nothing, but clashing and cloying, and dulness and faintness in their signification; they shall be abolished for ever betwixt us.  Flor. 
And instead of those, we will be married by the more agreeable names of Mistress and Gallant.  Cel. 
None of my privileges to be infringed by thee Florimell, under the penalty of a month of Fasting-nights.  Flor. 
None of my privileges to be infringed by thee Celadon, under the penalty of Cuckoldom.  Cel. 
Well, if it be my fortune to be made a Cuckold, I had rather thou shouldst make me one than any one in Sicily: and for my comfort I shall have thee oftener than any of thy servants.  Flor. 
Say now, is not such a marriage as good as wenching, Celadon?  Cel. 
This is very good, but not so good, Florimell.  Qu. 
Now set me forward to th' Assembly.  
You promise Cousin your consent?  Lys. 
But most unwillingly.  Qu. 
Philocles, I must beg your voice too.  Phil. 
Most joyfully I give it.  Lys. 
Madam, but one word more; since you are so resolved,  
That you may see, bold as my passion was,  
'Twas only for your person, not your Crown;  
I swear no second love  
Shall violate the flame I had for you,  
But in strict imitation of your Oath  
I vow a single life.  Qu. to Asteria.] 
Now, my Asteria, my joys are full;  
The powers above that see  
The innocent love I bear to Philocles,  
Have given its due reward; for by this means  
The right of Lysimantes will devolve  
Upon Candiope; and I shall have  
This great content, to think, when I am dead  
My Crown may fall on Philocles his head.  Exeunt omnes.  

EPILOGUE.  Written by a Person of Honour. 

OUr Poet something doubtful of his Fate  
Made choice of me to be his Advocate,  
Relying on my Knowledge in the Laws,  
And I as boldly undertook the Cause.  
I left my Client yonder in a rant  
Against the envious, and the ignorant,  
Who are, he says, his only Enemies:  
But he contemns their malice, and defies  
The sharpest of his Censurers to say  
Where there is one gross fault in all his Play.  
The language is so fitted for each part,  
The Plot according to the Rules of Art;  
And twenty other things he bid me tell you,  
But I cried, even go do't yourself for Nelly.  
Reason, with Judges, urged in the defence  
Of those they would condemn, is insolence;  
I therefore wave the merits of his Play,  
And think it fit to plead this safer way.  
If, when too many in the purchase share  
Robbings not worth the danger nor the care;  
The men of business must, in Policy,  
Cherish a little harmless Poetry;  
All wit would else grow up to Knavery.  
Wit is a Bird of Music, or of Prey.  
Mounting she strikes at all things in her way;  
But if this Birdlime once but touch her wings,  
On the next bush she sits her down, and sings.  
I have but one word more; tell me I pray  
What you will get by damning of our Play?  
A whipped Fanatic who does not recant  
Is by his Brethren called a suffering Saint;  
And by your hands should this poor Poet die  
Before he does renounce his Poetry,  
His death must needs confirm the Party more  
Than all his scribbling life could do before.  
Where so much zeal does in a Sect appear,  
'Tis to no purpose, i'faith, to be severe.  
But another's day I heard this rhyming Fop  
Say Critics were the Whips, and he the Top;  
For, as a Top spins best the more you baste her,  
So every lash you give, he writes the faster.   
FINIS.