Cleo. You shou’d love Virtue as you ought to love it; Not give it over-measure—But are you sure he will accept it?
Hon. I am not certain, being not come so far; But I propos’d it, and no doubt he lik’d it.
Cleo. This cannot be his Malice; for he was ever noble,
[Hon. talks to the Queen.
But false or feign’d, I can endure no more on’t:
—By Heaven, this Stranger’s false! false as his Name!
—Semiris found him gazing on her Picture:
—’Tis so—he loves Olympia!
And when I ask the Name of her he lov’d,
I urg’d it with such softness in my Eyes,
That he in Pity of me swore ‘twas I:
—Now can I find how much my Soul’s possest
With Love, since ‘tis with Jealousy opprest.
[Goes out.
Qu. How do you like the Trial of Orsames, Which I intend to make?
Hon. You’ll oblige your People, and do a Mother’s Duty.
Qu. You know ‘twas not the Tyrant in my Nature, That from his Infancy has kept him ignorant Of what he was—but the Decrees of Heaven.
Hon. Madam, ‘tis true; and if the Gods be just, He must be King too, though his Reign be short: You cannot alter those Decrees of Heaven.
Qu. The Gods are Witness how these eighteen Years I have with much Regret conceal’d his Birth.
Hon. You know the last Defeat the Scythians gave us,
Th’ impatient People broke the Castle-gates,
And against all your Powers were ready to have crown’d him;
And shou’d we now be conquer’d, nothing less
Will still the mutinous Army: try him, Madam,
He may be fit for great Impressions,
Had he but good Examples to dispose him.
Qu. I’ll have it done to night. Heaven, if it be thy Will, inspire my Son With Virtue fit to wear his Father’s Crown. [Exeunt.