ACT I.
SCENE I. The Palace.
Enter King, Philander, Orgulius, Alcippus, Alcander, Pisaro, Cleontius, Falatius; and Officers.
King. How shall I now divide my Gratitude, Between a Son, and one that has oblig’d me, Beyond the common duty of a Subject?
Phil. Believe me, Sir, he merits all your Bounty,
I only took example by his Actions;
And all the part o’th’ Victory which I gain’d,
Was but deriv’d from him.
King. Brave Youth, whose Infant years did bring us Conquests;
And as thou grew’st to Man, thou grew’st in Glory,
And hast arriv’d to such a pitch of it,
As all the slothful Youth that shall succeed thee,
Shall meet reproaches of thy early Actions:
When Men shall say, thus did the brave Alcippus;
And that great Name shall every Soul inspire
With Emulation to arrive at something,
That’s worthy of Example.
Alcip. I must confess I had the honour, Sir,
To lead on twenty thousand fighting Men,
Whom Fortune gave the Glory of the Day to.
I only bid them fight, and they obey’d me;
But ‘twas my Prince that taught them how to do so.
King. I do believe Philander wants no courage;
But what he did was to preserve his own.
But thine the pure effects of highest Valour;
For which, if ought below my Crown can recompense,
Name it, and take it, as the price of it.
Alcip. The Duty which we pay your Majesty, Ought to be such, as what we pay the Gods; Which always bears its Recompence about it.
King. Yet suffer me to make thee some return,
Though not for thee, yet to incourage Bravery.
I know thy Soul is generous enough,
To think a glorious Act rewards it self.
But those who understand not so much Virtue,
Will call it my neglect, and want of Gratitude;
In this thy Modesty will wrong thy King.
Alcippus, by this pause you seem to doubt
My Power or Will; in both you are to blame.
Alcip. Your pardon, Sir; I never had a thought
That could be guilty of so great a Sin.
That I was capable to do you service,
Was the most grateful Bounty Heaven allow’d me,
And I no juster way could own that Blessing,
Than to imploy the Gift for your repose.
King. I shall grow angry, and believe your Pride Would put the guilt off on your Modesty, Which would refuse what that believes below it.
Phil. Your Majesty thinks too severely of him;
Permit me, Sir, to recompense his Valour,
I saw the wonders on’t, and thence may guess
In some Degree, what may be worthy of it.
King. I like it well, and till thou hast perform’d it, I will divest my self of all my Power, And give it thee, till thou hast made him great.
Phil. I humbly thank you, Sir—
[Bows to the King, takes the Staff from Orgulius, and gives it to Alcippus, who looks amazedly.
And here I do create him General.
You seem to wonder, as if I dispossess’d
The brave Orgulius; but be pleas’d to know,
Such Reverence and Respect I owe that Lord,
As had himself not made it his Petition,
I sooner should have parted with my Right,
Than have discharg’d my debt by injuring him.
King. Orgulius, are you willing to resign it?
Org. With your permission, Sir, most willingly;
His vigorous Youth is fitter for’t than Age,
Which now has render’d me uncapable
Of what that can with more success perform.
My Heart and Wishes are the same they were,
But Time has quite depriv’d me of that power
That should assist a happy Conqueror.
King. Yet Time has added little to your years, Since I restor’d you to this great Command, And then you thought it not unfit for you.
Org. Sir, was it fit I should refuse your Grace?
That was your act of Mercy: and I took it
To clear my Innocence, and reform the Errors
Which those receiv’d who did believe me guilty,
Or that my Crimes were greater than that Mercy.
I took it, Sir, in scorn of those that hated me,
And now resign it to the Man you love.
King. We need not this proof to confirm thy Loyalty;
Nor am I yet so barren of Rewards,
But I can find a way, without depriving
Thy noble Head of its victorious Wreaths,
To crown another’s Temples.
Org. I humbly beg your Majesty’s consent to’t,
If you believe Alcippus worthy of it;
The generous Youth I have bred up to Battles,
Taught him to overcome, and use that Conquest
As modestly as his submissive Captive,
His Melancholy, (but his easy Fetters)
To meet Death’s Horrors with undaunted looks:
How to despise the Hardships of a Siege;
To suffer Cold and Hunger, want of Sleep.
Nor knew he other rest than on his Horse-back,
Where he would sit and take a hearty Nap;
And then too dreamt of fighting.
I could continue on a day in telling
The Wonders of this Warrior.
King. I credit all, and do submit to you. But yet Alcippus seems displeas’d with it.
Alcip. Ah, Sir! too late I find my Confidence
Has overcome my unhappy Bashfulness;
I had an humbler Suit to approach you with;
But this unlook’d for Honour
Has soon confounded all my lesser aims,
As were they not essential to my Being,
I durst not name them after what y’have done.
King. It is not well to think my Kindness limited;
This, from the Prince you hold, the next from me;
Be what it will, I here declare it thine.
—Upon my life, designs upon a Lady;
I guess it from thy blushing.
—Name her, and here thy King engages for her.
Phi. O Gods!—What have I done? [Aside.
Alcip. Erminia, Sir.— [Bows.
Phi. I’m ruin’d.— [Aside.
King. Alcippus, with her Father’s leave, she’s thine.
Org. Sir, ‘tis my Aim and Honour.
Phi. Alcippus, is’t a time to think of Weddings, When the disorder’d Troops require your Presence? You must to the Camp to morrow.
Alcip. You need not urge that Duty to me, Sir.
King. A Day or two will finish that affair, And then we’ll consummate the happy Day, When all the Court shall celebrate your Joy.
[They all go out, but Alcan. Pisa, and Fal.
Pis. Falatio, you are a swift Horseman; I believe you have a Mistress at Court, You made such haste this Morning.
Fal. By Jove, Pisaro, I was weary enough of the
Campaign; and till I had lost sight of it,
I clapt on all my Spurs—
But what ails Alcander?
Pis. What, displeas’d?
Alcan. It may be so, what then?
Pis. Then thou mayst be pleas’d again.
Alcan. Why the Devil should I rejoice? Because I see another rais’d above me; Let him be great, and damn’d with all his Greatness.
Pis. Thou mean’st Alcippus, who I think merits it.
Alcan. What is’t that thou cal’st Merit?
He fought, it’s true, so did you, and I,
And gain’d as much as he o’th’ Victory,
But he in the Triumphal Chariot rode,
Whilst we ador’d him like a Demi-God.
He with the Prince an equal welcome found,
Was with like Garlands, though less Merit, crown’d.
Fal. He’s in the right for that, by Jove.
Pis. Nay, now you wrong him.
Alcan. What’s he I should not speak my sense of him?
Pis. He is our General.
Alcan. What then?
What is’t that he can do, which I’ll decline?
Has he more Youth, more Strength, or Arms than I?
Can he preserve himself i’th’ heat of the Battle?
Or can he singly fight a whole Brigade?
Can he receive a thousand Wounds, and live?
Fal. Can you or he do so?
Alcan. I do not say I can; but tell me then, Where be the Virtues of this mighty Man, That he should brave it over all the rest?
Pis. Faith, he has many Virtues, and much Courage; And merits it as well as you or I: Orgulius was grown old.
Alcan. What then?
Pis. Why then he was unfit for’t, But that he had a Daughter that was young.
Alcan. Yes, he might have lain by,
Like rusty Armour, else,
Had she not brought him into play again;
The Devil take her for’t.
Fal. By Jove, he’s dissatisfy’d with every thing.
Alcan. She has undone my Prince,
And he has most unluckily disarm’d himself,
And put the Sword into his Rival’s hand,
Who will return it to his grateful Bosom.
Phi. Why, you believe Alcippus honest—
Alcan. Yes, in your sense, Pisaro, But do not like the last demand he made; ’.was but an ill return upon his Prince, To beg his Mistress, rather challeng’d her.
Pis. His ignorance that she was so, may excuse him.
Alcan. The Devil ‘twill, dost think he knew it not?
Pis. Orgulius still design’d him for Erminia; And if the Prince be disoblig’d from this, He only ought to take it ill from him.
Alcan. Too much, Pisaro, you excuse his Pride, But ‘tis the Office of a Friend to do so.
Pis. ‘Tis true, I am not ignorant of this,
That he despises other Recompence
For all his Services, but fair Erminia,
I know ‘tis long since he resign’d his Heart,
Without so much as telling her she conquer’d;
And yet she knew he lov’d; whilst she, ingrate,
Repay’d his Passion only with her Scorn.
Alcan. In loving him, she’d more ingrateful prove To her first Vows, to Reason, and to Love.
Pis. For that, Alcander, you know more than I.
Fal. Why sure Aminta will instruct her better, She’s as inconstant as the Seas and Winds, Which ne’er are calm but to betray Adventurers.
Alcan. How came you by that knowledg, Sir?
Fal. What a Pox makes him ask me that question now? [Aside.
Pis. Prithee, Alcander, now we talk of her,
How go the Amours ‘twixt you and my wild Sister?
Can you speak yet, or do you tell your tale
With Eyes and Sighs, as you were wont to do?
Alcan. Faith, much at that old rate, Pisaro, I yet have no incouragement from her To make my Court in any other language.
Pis. You’ll bring her to’t, she must be overcome, And you’re the fittest for her fickle Humour.
Alcan. Pox on’t, this Change will spoil our making Love,
We must be sad, and follow the Court-Mode:
My life on’t, you’ll see desperate doings here;
The Eagle will not part so with his Prey;
Erminia was not gain’d so easily,
To be resign’d so tamely.—But come, my Lord,
This will not satisfy our appetites,
Let’s in to Dinner, and when warm with Wine,
We shall be fitter for a new Design.
[They go out. Fal. stays.
Fal. Now am I in a very fine condition,
A comfortable one, as I take it:
I have ventur’d my Life to some purpose now;
What confounded luck was this, that he of all men
Living, should happen to be my Rival?
Well, I’ll go visit Aminta, and see how
She receives me.—
Why, where a duce hast thou dispos’d of Enter Labree.
Thy self all this day? I will be bound to be
Hang’d if thou hast not a hankering after
Some young Wench; thou couldst never loiter
Thus else; but I’ll forgive thee now, and prithee go to
My Lady Aminta’s Lodgings; kiss her hand
From me; and tell her, I am just returned from
The Campain: mark that word, Sirrah.
Lab. I shall, Sir, ‘tis truth.
Fal. Well, that’s all one; but if she should
Demand any thing concerning me, (for
Love’s inquisitive) dost hear? as to my Valour, or so,
Thou understand’st me; tell her
I acted as a man that pretends to the glory of
Serving her.
Lab. I warrant you, Sir, for a Speech.
Fal. Nay, thou mayst speak as well too much
As too little; have a care of that, dost hear?
And if she ask what Wounds I have, dost mind me?
Tell her I have many, very many.
Lab. But whereabouts, Sir?
Fal. Let me see—let me see; I know not where To place them—I think in my Face.
Lab. By no means, Sir, you had much better Have them in your Posteriors: for then the Ladies Can never disprove you; they’ll not look there.
Fal. The sooner, you Fool, for the Rarity on’t.
Lab. Sir, the Novelty is not so great, I assure you.
Fal. Go to, y’are wicked; But I will have them in my Face.
Lab. With all my heart, Sir, but how?
Fal. I’ll wear a patch or two there, and I’ll Warrant you for pretending as much as any man; And who, you Fool, shall know the fallacy?
Lab. That, Sir, will all that know you, both in the Court and Camp.
Fal. Mark me, Labree, once for all; if thou takest
Delight continually thus to put me in mind of
My want of Courage, I shall undoubtedly
Fall foul on thee, and give thee most fatal proofs
Of more than thou expectest.
Lab. Nay, Sir, I have done, and do believe ‘tis only I dare say you are a man of Prowess.
Fal. Leave thy simple fancies, and go about thy business.
Lab. I am gone; but hark, my Lord, If I should say your Face were wounded, The Ladies would fear you had lost your Beauty.
Fal. O, never trouble your head for that, Aminta Is a Wit, and your Wits care not how ill-favour’d Their Men be, the more ugly the better.
Lab. An’t be so, you’ll fit them to a hair.
Fal. Thou art a Coxcomb, to think a man of my
Quality needs the advantage of Handsomness:
A trifle as insignificant as Wit or Valour; poor
Nothings, which Men of Fortune ought to despise.
Lab. Why do you then keep such a stir, to gain The reputation of this thing you so despise?
Fal. To please the peevish humour of a Woman, Who in that point only is a Fool.
Lab. You had a Mistress once, if you have not Forgotten her, who would have taken you with All these faults.
Fal. There was so; but she was poor, that’s the Devil, I could have lov’d her else. —But go thy ways; what dost thou muse on?
Lab. Faith, Sir, I am only fearful you will never Pass with those Patches you speak of.
Fal. Thou never-to-be-reclaim’d Ass, shall I never
Bring thee to apprehend as thou ought’st? I tell thee,
I will pass and repass, where and how I please;
Know’st thou not the difference yet, between a Man
Of Money and Titles, and a Man of only Parts,
As they call them? poor Devils of no Mein nor Garb:
Well, ‘tis a fine and frugal thing, this Honour,
It covers a multitude of Faults:
Even Ridicule in one of us is a-la-mode.
But I detain thee; go haste to Aminta.
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE II. Galatea’s Apartments.
Enter Galatea, Aminta, and Olinda.
Gal. Will Erminia come?
Oli. Madam, I thought she’d been already here.
Gal. But prithee how does she support this news?
Oli. Madam, as those unreconciled to Heaven Would bear the pangs of death.
Am. Time will convince her of that foolish error, Of thinking a brisk young Husband a torment.
Gal. What young Husband?
Am. The General, Madam.
Gal. Why, dost thou think she will consent to it?
Am. Madam, I cannot tell, the World’s inconstant.
Gal. Ay, Aminta, in every thing but Love; And sure they cannot be in that: What say’st thou, Olinda?
Oli. Madam, my Judgment’s naught.
Love I have treated as a stranger Guest,
Receiv’d him well, not lodg’d him in my Breast.
I ne’er durst give the unknown Tyrant room;
Lest he should make his resting place his home.
Gal. Then thou art happy; but if Erminia fail, I shall not live to reproach her.
Am. Nay, Madam, do not think of dying yet: There is a way, if we could think of it.
Gal. Aminta, when will thou this Humour lose?
Am. Faith, never, if I might my Humour chuse.
Gal. Methinks thou now should’st blush to bid me live.
Am. Madam, ‘tis the best counsel I can give.
Gal. Thy Counsel! Prithee, what dost counsel now?
Am. What I would take my self I counsel you.
Gal. You must my Wounds and my Misfortunes bear
Before you can become my Counsellor.
You cannot guess the Torments I endure:
Not knowing the Disease you’ll miss the Cure.
Am. Physicians, Madam, can the Patient heal
Although the Malady they ne’er did feel;
But your Disease is epidemical,
Nor can I that evade that conquers all.
I lov’d, and never did like pleasure know,
Which Passion did with time less vigorous grow.
Gal. Why, hast thou lost it?
Am. It, and half a score.
Gal. Losing the first, sure thou couldst love no more.
Am. With more facility, than when the Dart Arm’d with resistless fire first seiz’d my Heart; ’.was long then e’er the Boy could entrance get, And make his little Victory compleat; And now he’as got the knack on’t, ‘tis with ease He domineers, and enters when he please.
Gal. My Heart, Aminta, is not like to thine.
Am. Faith, Madam, try, you’ll find it just like mine.
The first I lov’d was Philocles, and then
Made Protestations ne’er to love again,
Yet after left him for a faithless crime;
But then I languisht even to death for him;
—But Love who suffer’d me to take no rest,
New fire-balls threw, the old scarce dispossest;
And by the greater flame the lesser light,
Like Candles in the Sun extinguished quite,
And left no power Alcander to resist,
Who took, and keeps possession of my breast.
Gal. Art thou a Lover then, and look’st so gay, But thou hast ne’er a Father to obey. [Sighing.
Am. Why, if I had I would obey him too.
Gal. And live?
Am. And live.
Gal. ‘Tis more than I can do.
Enter Erminia weeping.
—Thy Eyes, Erminia, do declare thy Heart
[Gal. meets her, embraces her, and weeps.
Has nothing but Despairs and Death t’impart,
And I alas, no Comfort can apply,
But I as well as you can weep and die.
Er. I’ll not reproach my Fortune, since in you
Grief does the noblest of your Sex subdue;
When your great Soul a sorrow can admit,
I ought to suffer from the sense of it;
Your cause of grief too much like mine appears,
Not to oblige my Eyes to double tears;
And had my heart no sentiments at home,
My part in yours had doubtless fill’d the room.
But mine will no addition more receive,
Fate has bestow’d the worst she had to give;
Your mighty Soul can all its rage oppose,
Whilst mine must perish by more feeble blows.
Gal. Indeed I dare not say my cause of grief Does yours exceed, since both are past relief. But if your Fates unequal do appear, Erminia, ‘tis my heart that odds must bear.
Er. Madam, ‘tis just I should to you resign,
But here you challenge what is only mine:
My Fate so cruel is, it will not give
Leave to Philander (if I die) to live:
Might I but suffer all, ‘twere some content,
But who can live and see this languishment?
You, Madam, do alone your Sorrows bear,
Which would be less, did but Alcippus share;
As Lovers we agree, I’ll not deny,
But thou art lov’d again, so am not I.
Am. Madam, that grief the better is sustain’d,
That’s for a loss that never yet was gain’d;
You only lose a man that does not know
How great the honour is which you bestow;
Who dares not hope you love, or if he did,
Your Greatness would his just return forbid;
His humble thoughts durst ne’er to you aspire,
At most he would presume but to admire;
Or if it chanc’d he durst more daring prove,
You still must languish and conceal your Love.
Gal. This which you argue lessens not my Pain,
My Grief’s the same were I belov’d again.
The King my Father would his promise keep,
And thou must him enjoy for whom I weep.
Er. Ah, would I could that fatal gift deny;
Without him you; and with him, I must die;
My Soul your royal Brother does adore,
And I, all Passion, but from him, abhor;
But if I must th’unsuit Alcippus wed,
I vow he ne’er shall come into my Bed.
Gal. That’s bravely sworn, and now I love thee more
Than e’er I was oblig’d to do before,
—But yet, Erminia, guard thee from his Eyes,
Where so much love, and so much Beauty lies;
Those charms may conquer thee, which made me bow,
And make thee love as well as break this Vow.
Er. Madam, it is unkind, though but to fear Ought but Philander can inhabit here. [Lays her hand on her heart.
Gal. Ah, that Alcippus did not you approve,
We then might hope these mischiefs to remove;
The King my Father might be won by Prayer,
And my too powerful Brother’s sad despair,
To break his word, which kept will us undo:
And he will lose his dear Philander too,
Who dies and can no remedies receive:
But vows that ‘tis for you alone he’ll live.
Er. Ah, Madam, do not tell me how he dies,
I’ve seen too much already in his Eyes:
They did the sorrows of his Soul betray,
Which need not be confest another way:
’.was there I found what my misfortune was,
Too sadly written in his lovely face.
But see, my Father comes: Madam, withdraw a while,
And once again I’ll try my interest with him.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III. A room in the house of Orgulius.
Enter Orgulius, Erminia weeping, and Isillia.
Er. Sir, does your fatal resolution hold?
Org. Away, away, you are a foolish Girl, And look with too much pride upon your Beauty; Which like a gaudy flower that springs too soon, Withers e’er fully blown. Your very Tears already have betray’d Its weak inconstant nature; Alcippus, should he look upon thee now, would swear thou wert not that fine thing he lov’d.
Er. Why should that blessing turn to my despair? Curse on his Faith that told him I was fair.
Org. ‘Tis strange to me you shou’d despise this Fortune, I always thought you well inclin’d to love him, I would not else have thus dispos’d of you.
Er. I humbly thank you, Sir, though’t be too late, And wish you yet would try to change my Fate; What to Alcippus you did Love believe, Was such a Friendship as might well deceive; ’.was what kind Sisters do to Brothers pay; Alcippus I can love no other way. —Sir, lay the Interest of a Father by, And give me leave this Lover to deny.
Org. Erminia, thou art young, and canst not see The advantage of the Fortune offer’d thee.
Er. Alas, Sir, there is something yet behind. [Sighs.
Org. What is’t, Erminia? freely speak thy mind.
Er. Ah, Sir, I dare not, you inrag’d will grow.
Org. Erminia, you have seldom found me so; If no mean Passion have thy Soul possest, Be what it will I can forgive the rest.
Er. No, Sir, it is no crime, or if it be, Let Prince Philander make the Peace for me; He ‘twas that taught the Sin (if Love be such.)
Org. Erminia, peace, he taught you then too much.
Er. Nay, Sir, you promis’d me you wou’d not blame My early Love, if ‘twere a noble Flame.
Org. Than this a more unhappy could not be; Destroy it, or expect to hear of me. [Offers to go out.
Er. Alas, I know ‘twould anger you, when known. [She stays him.
Org. Erminia, you are wondrous daring grown. Where got you courage to admit his Love, Before the King or I did it approve?
Er. I borrow’d Courage from my Innocence, And my own Virtue, Sir, was my defence. Philander never spoke but from a Soul, That all dishonest Passions can controul; With Flames as chaste as Vestals that did burn, From whence I borrow’d mine, to make return.
Org. Your Love from Folly, not from Virtue grew; You never could believe he’d marry you.
Er. Upon my life no other thing he spoke, But those from dictates of his Honour took.
Org. Though by his fondness led he were content
To marry thee, the King would ne’er consent.
Cease then this fruitless Passion, and incline
Your Will and Reason to agree with mine,
Alcippus I dispos’d you to before,
And now I am inclin’d to it much more.
Some days I had design’d t’have given thee
To have prepar’d for this solemnity;
But now my second thoughts believe it fit,
You should this night to my desires submit.
Er. This night! Ah, Sir, what is’t you mean to do?
Org. Preserve my Credit, and thy Honour too.
Er. By such resolves you me to ruin bring.
Org. That’s better than to disoblige my King.
Er. But if the King his liking do afford,
Would you not with Alcippus break your word?
Or would you not to serve your Prince’s life,
Permit your Daughter to become his Wife?
Org. His Wife, Erminia! if I did believe
Thou could’st to such a thought a credit give,
I would the interest of a Father quit,
And you, Erminia, have no need of it:
Without his aid you can a Husband chuse;
Gaining the Prince you may a Father lose.
Er. Ah, Sir, these words are Poniards to my Heart;
And half my Love to Duty does convert;
Alas, Sir, I can be content to die,
But cannot suffer this Severity: [Kneels.
That care you had, dear Sir, continue still,
I cannot live and disobey your will. [Rises.
Org. This duty has regain’d me, and you’ll find
A just return; I shall be always kind.
—Go, reassume your Beauty, dry your Eyes;
Remember ‘tis a Father does advise. [Goes out.
Er. Ungrateful Duty, whose uncivil Pride
By Reason is not to be satisfy’d;
Who even Love’s Almighty Power o’erthrows,
Or does on it too rigorous Laws impose;
Who bindest up our Virtue too too strait,
And on our Honour lays too great a weight.
Coward, whom nothing but thy power makes strong;
Whom Age and Malice bred t’affright the young;
Here thou dost tyrannize to that degree,
That nothing but my Death will set me free.
[Ex. Erm. and Isil.
SCENE IV. Philander’s Apartments.
Enter Philander and Alcander.
Phil. Urge it no more, your Reasons do displease me;
I offer’d her a Crown with her Philander,
And she was once pleas’d to accept of it.
She lov’d me too, yes, and repaid my flame,
As kindly as I sacrific’d to her:
The first salute we gave were harmless Love,
Our Souls then met, and so grew up together,
Like sympathizing Twins.
And must she now be ravish’d from my Arms?
Will you, Erminia, suffer such a Rape?
What though the King have said it shall be so,
’.is not his pleasure can become thy Law,
No, nor it shall not.
And though he were my God as well as King,
I would instruct thee how to disobey him;
Thou shalt, Erminia, bravely say, I will not;
He cannot force thee to’t against thy will.
—Oh Gods, shall duty to a King and Father
Make thee commit a Murder on thy self,
Thy sacred self, and me that do adore thee?
No, my Erminia, quit this vain devoir,
And follow Love that may preserve us all:
—Presumptuous Villain, bold Ingratitude—
Hadst thou no other way to pay my favours?
By Heaven, ‘twas bravely bold, was it not, Alcander?
Alcan. It was somewhat strange, Sir; But yet perhaps he knew not that you lov’d her.
Phil. Not know it! yes, as well as thou and I.
The world was full on’t, and could he be ignorant?
Why was her Father call’d from banishment,
And plac’d about the King, but for her sake?
What made him General, but my Passion for her?
What gave him twenty thousand Crowns a year,
But that which made me captive to Erminia,
Almighty Love, of which thou say’st he is ignorant?
How has he order’d his audacious flame,
That I cou’d ne’er perceive it all this while.
Alcan. Then ‘twas a flame conceal’d from you alone,
To the whole Court, besides, ‘twas visible.
He knew you would not suffer it to burn out;
And therefore waited till his services
Might give encouragement to’s close design.
If that could do’t he nobly has endeavour’d it,
But yet I think you need not yield her, Sir.
Phi. Alcippus, I confess, is brave enough,
And by such ways I’ll make him quit his claim;
He shall to morrow to the Camp again,
And then I’ll own my Passion to the King;
He loves me well, and I may hope his pity.
Till then be calm, my Heart, for if that fail,
[Points to his Sword.
This is the argument that will prevail.
[Exeunt.