Part 26

_Ast_. May I not ask, without offence, who 'tis?

_Queen_. Ev'n 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; handsome, and well-born.

_Queen_. 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 e'er durst tell me his.

_Ast_. In all this labyrinth, I find one path, conducting to our quiet.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. I fear, that were to make him hate me, Or, what's as bad, to let him know, I love him: Could you not do it of yourself?

_Ast_. I'll not be wanting to my pow'r: But if your majesty appears not in it, The love of Philocles will soon surmount All other difficulties.

_Queen_. Then, as we walk, we'll think what means are best; Effect but this, and thou shar'st half my breast. [_Exeunt_.

## ACT II.

## SCENE I--_The Queens Apartment_.

ASTERIA _alone_.

Nothing thrives that I have plotted; 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.

_Enter_ CELADON _looking about him_.

Brother! what make you here About the queen's apartments? Which of the ladies are you watching for?

_Cel_. Any of 'em, that will do me the good turn, to make me soundly in love.

_Ast_. Then I'll bespeak you one, you will be desperately in love with; Florimel: 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: Florimel vows you are already in love with her.

_Cel_. She wrongs me horribly; if ever I saw or spoke with this Florimel--

_Ast_. Well, take your fortune, I must leave you.

[_Exit_ ASTERIA.

_Enter_ FLORIMEL, _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 makes 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_.

_Flo_. Hold, hold, you are not mad!

_Cel_. Oh, my miss in a mask! have you found your tongue?

_Flo_. 'Twas time, I think; what had become of me if I had not?

_Cel_. Me thinks your lips had done as well.

_Flo_. Ay, if my mask 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 Florimel, if they will, but, i'faith, she must come short of you.

_Flo_. Have you seen her, then?

_Cel_. I look'd a little that way, but I had soon enough of her; she is not to be seen twice without a surfeit.

_Flo_. However, you are beholden to her; they say she loves you.

_Cel_. By fate she shan't 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_.

_Fla_. Florimel, you are call'd within--[_Exit_.

_Cel_. I hope in the lord, you are not Florimel!

_Flo_. Ev'n she, at your service; the same kind and coming Florimel, 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.

_Flo_. 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.

_Flo_. 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.

_Flo_. This animal, call'd a lover, I have long'd to see these two years.

_Cel_. Sure you walk'd with your mask on all the while; for if you had been seen, you could not have been without your wish.

_Flo_. 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.

_Flo_. I would have a lover, that, if need be, should hang himself, drown himself, break his neck, 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 to do? For a man's but a man; he cannot hang, and drown, and break his neck, and poison himself, all together.

_Flo_. Well, then, because you are but a beginner, and I would not discourage you, any of these shall serve your turn, in a fair way.

_Cel_. I am much deceiv'd 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.

_Flo_. However, you will grant it is but decent you should be pale, and lean, and melancholick, to shew 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 twenty-four hours warning? in the mean while, we burn day-light, lose time and love.

_Flo_. Would you marry me without consideration?

_Cel_. To chuse, 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.

_Flo_. 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.

_Flo_. 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?

_Flo_. 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.

_Flo_. Provided, if you prove unfaithful, then your time of a twelve-month to be prolonged; so many services, I will bate you so many days or weeks; so many faults, I will add to your 'prenticeship so much more: And of all this, I only to be judge.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES _and_ LYSIMANTES.

_Lys_. Is the queen this way, madam?

_Flo_. I'll see, so please your highness: Follow me, captive.

_Cel_. March on, conqueror--[_She pulls him_.

[_Exeunt_ CEL. FLO.

_Lys_. You're sure her majesty will not oppose it?

_Phil_. Leave that to me, my lord.

_Lys_. Then, tho' 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.

_Enter the Queen and_ ASTERIA.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. You may approach, sir; [_To_ PHIL. We two discourse no secrets.

_Phil_. I come, madam, to weary out your royal bounty.

_Queen_. 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--

_Queen_. 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 too faulty: But love alone inspires me with ambition, Tho' but to look on fair Candiope were an excuse for both.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Not for that, Philocles; you deserve all things, And, to shew 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 had giv'n before, Than not give this; For believe, madam, nothing is so near My soul, as the possession of Candiope.

_Queen_. Since that belief would be to 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 so beg, that I find I cannot live Without the hope of it.

_Queen_. Hope greater things; But hope not this. Haste to o'ercome your love; It is but putting a short-liv'd 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.

_Queen_. If I am to pronounce it, live, my Philocles, But live without, (I was about to say) [_Aside_. Without his love, but that I cannot do; Live Philocles without Candiope.

_Phil_. 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.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Yet, Lysimantes, set by him I love, Is more obscured, than stars too near the sun: He has a brightness of his own, Not borrowed of his father's, but born with him.

_Phil_. Pardon me if I say, whoe'er he be, He has practis'd some ill arts upon you, madam; For he, whom you describe, I see, is born But from the lees o' the people.

_Queen_. 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 thus far) Whom I esteem your equal, And far superior to prince Lysimantes; One, who deserves to wear a crown--

_Phil_. Whirlwinds bear me hence, before I live To that detested day!--That frown assures me I have offended, by my over-freedom; But yet, methinks, a heart so plain and honest, And zealous of your glory, might hope your pardon for it.

_Queen_. 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 philtre.

_Queen_. Yes, he has given me a philtre; But I have drunk it only from his eyes.

_Phil_. Hot irons thank 'em for't! [_Softly, or turning from her_.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. I say, begone.--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 mein, his action, How full of haughtiness, how small respect?

_Queen_. And he to use me thus, he whom I favoured, Nay more, he whom I loved?

_Ast_. A man, methinks, of vulgar parts and presence!

_Queen_. 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 monarchs raise from earth, And people, wondering how they came so high, Fear, from their influence, plagues, and wars, and famine.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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?

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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 Disjointed all your words! The sibyl's 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?

_Queen_. Gone, gone, Asteria; all is gone, Or lost within me, far from any use. Sometimes I struggle, like the sun in clouds, But straight I am o'ercast.

_Ast_. I grieve to see it.

_Queen_. 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 shook, because they dare the winds. [_Exeunt_.

## ACT III.

## SCENE I.--_The Court Gallery_.

PHILOCLES _solus_.

'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. Ha! She comes herself; unhappy man, Where shall I hide?--[_Is going out_.

_Enter Queen and_ ASTERIA.

_Queen_. Is not that Philocles, Who makes such haste away? Philocles, Philocles!--

_Phil_. I feared she saw me. [_Coming back_.

_Queen_. How now, sir, am I such a bugbear, That I scare people from me?

_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.

_Queen_. 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_.

_Queen_. Ha! banished him! 'tis true indeed; But, as thou sayest, I had forgot it quite.

_Ast_. That's very strange, scarce half an hour ago.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Princes sometimes may pass Acts of oblivion, in their own wrong.

_Phil_. 'Tis true, but not recal them.

_Queen_. 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 our 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.

_Queen_. But you'll be glad to know it.

_Phil_. May I not hope, then, You have some quarrel to him?

_Queen_. 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 guess it!

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Y'are 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--

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. He never shall. But you are discomposed; Stay here a little; I have somewhat for you, Shall shew, 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 watry cloud, The sun, at once, seems both to weep and shine. For what forefather's 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 shew, Since heaven will punish them with losing you.

_Phil_. Afflictions, sent from heaven without a cause, Make bold mankind enquire 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, Spins all their fortunes in a silken twine: No mortal hand so ignorant is found, To weave coarse 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 with a picture in her hand, and_ ASTERIA

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. I struggle with my heart-- But it will have some vent. Cousin, you are a stranger at the court. [_To_ CAND.

_Cand_. It was my duty, I confess, To attend oftner on your majesty.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Do not you see it? Oh how blind is love!

_Cand_. And how quick-sighted malice! [_Aside_.

_Queen_. 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_.

_Queen_. How do I look to-day, Asteria? Methinks, not well.

_Ast_. Pardon me, madam, most victoriously.

_Queen_. 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.

_Queen_. Methinks, a long patch here, beneath her eye, Might hide that dismal hollowness. 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.

_Queen_. Ay, 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 and_ ASTERIA.

_Cand_. Inhuman 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!