Cleo. The Army too are of your mind.
Val. I cannot answer for the Army, Madam.
Cleo. But—what think you of Orsames?
Val. Madam, I think he merits to be King In any other World but where you reign.
Cleo. And what if I would have him King of this?
Val. Why then he shall be King, if you would have it so.
Cleo. Yes, I would have it, by my self I would;
This is the time to let the Monarch know
The Glories he was born to;
Nor can I die in Peace till he be crown’d. [Aside.
I’ll have this Nation happy in a Prince,
A Prince they long in silence have bemoan’d,
Which every slight occasion breaks out loud,
And soon will raise them up to a Rebellion,
The common People’s God on Holy-days.
—And this, Vallentio, I have often observ’d;
And ‘tis an Act too humble for my Soul,
To court my self into security.
Sem. Madam, the Gods do disapprove his Reign, Which they not only say shall be but short, But Bloody and Tyrannick.
Cleo. I will expound that Oracle,
Which Priests unridling make more intricate:
They said that he should reign, and so he did,
Which lasted not above a pair of Hours.
But I my self will be his Oracle now,
And speak his kinder Fate,
And I will have no other Priest but thee, [To Vallentio.
Who shall unfold the Mystery in plain terms.
Val. Madam, the City and the Army are, by this Defeat, Enough inclin’d to hear that Reason.