Cleo. Gallery! what did he there? tell me exactly, —I have no Picture there.
Sem. Madam, he was viewing that of Olympia, your fair Cousin, But for the Excellency of the Work, not Beauty.
Cleo. Thou art deceiv’d; viewing her Picture, say you?
—Oh, thou hast touch’d a tender part, Semiris;
—But yonder’s he that can allay my Rage [Sees Thersander.
And calm me in that Love by every Look.
—Clemanthis, you absent your self too much
From those to whom your Presence is agreeable;
I hear that you are grown retir’d of late,
And visit shady Groves, walk thus—and sigh,
Like melancholy Lovers. Has the Court
(Who for your Entertainment has put on
More Gaiety than in an Age before)
Nothing that can divert you? Cease your Ceremony;
[He bows low.
I am your Friend, and if ought harbour there
Within that sullen Breast, impart it here—
And I’ll contribute any thing to ease you.
—Come—boldly tell thy Griefs;
I have an Interest in thy noble Life.
—Perhaps, since you’re arriv’d at Court, you’ve seen
Some Beauty that has made a Conquest o’er your Heart;
—Whoe’er she be, you cannot fear Success.
Ther. The Honours you have heap’d upon your Slave,
Have been sufficient
To have encourag’d any bold Attempt;
And here are Beauties would transform a God,
Much more a Soldier, into an amorous Shape.
—But, I confess, with shame, I brought no Heart
Along with me to Court, and after that
What acceptable Sacrifice can I offer?
This makes me shun the Pleasures of your Court,
And seek Retirements silent as my Griefs.
Cleo, It seems you were a Lover e’er I saw you, And Absence from your Mistress makes you languish.
Ther. Ah, Madam, do not ask me many Questions,
Lest I offend where I should merit Pity;
The Boldness may arrive unto her Knowledge,
And then you’ll lose the humblest of your Creatures,
Whilst as I am, I may among the Croud
Of daily Worshippers, pay my Devotions.
Cleo. Give me your Hand, we’ll walk a little. [They go and sit dawn on a Bank. —How do you like this Grove?
Ther. As I do every place you’re pleas’d to bless. Heaven were not Heaven, were Gods not present there; And where you are, ‘tis Heaven every where.
Cleo. Look, Clemanthis—on yonder tuft of Trees, Near which there is a little murmuring Spring, From whence a Rivulet does take its rise, And branches forth in Channels through the Garden; —’Twas near a place like that—where first I saw Clemanthis. [Sighing.
Ther. Madam, be pleas’d to add, ‘twas also there Clemanthis left his Liberty at the Feet Of Divine Cleomena; And charg’d himself with those too glorious Chains, Never to be dismist but with his Life. [She rising in anger, he kneels.