Ors. A Maid! and may you be approacht with Knees and Prayers [Kneels.
Olym. I am your Slave, you must not kneel to me— Takes him up.
Ors. How soon my Glory’s vanisht!
Till now I did believe I was some God,
And had my Power and my Divinity
Within my Will; but by this awful Fear,
I find thou art the greater Deity:
—Pray tell me, fairest, are you not a Woman?
Olym. I am a Woman, and a Virgin, Sir.
Ors. I did believe that thou wert something more,
For I have seen a Woman, and ne’er knew
So much Disorder in my Soul before:
—For every Look of thine gives me a Pain,
And draws my Heart out of its wonted Seat.
Olym. Alas, Sir, have I hurt you?
Ors. Extremely hurt me, thou hast a secret Power,
And canst at distance wound,
Which none but Heaven and you cou’d ever do.
—But ‘twas my Fault; had I not gaz’d on thee,
I had been still a King, and full of Health.
—Here—receive this Crown, ‘tis now unfit for me,
Since thou hast greater Power—whilst it sits here—
[He takes off his Crown, and puts it on her.
It looks like Stars fall’n from their proper Sphere:
—So, now they’re fixt again.
Qu. Pimante, speak to him to take it back.
Pim. He kills me with his Looks. —Sir, when you part with this, you’ll be despis’d; Your Glory, and your Thunder, all will vanish.
Ors. I yet have something that shall make thee fear, I’m still a King, though I must bow to her; Take him away to Death immediately—