Qu. And that’s the Reason you wou’d send him hence.
Abd. I must confess, I wou’d not bear a wrong: But do not take me for a Villain, Madam; He is my King, and may do what he pleases.
Qu. ‘Tis well, Sir.
Abd. Again that Frown, it renders thee more charming Than any other Dress thou could’st put on.
Qu. Away, you do not love me.
Abd. Now mayst thou hate me, if this be not pretty.
Qu. Oh, you can flatter finely—
Abd. Not I, by Heaven:
Oh, that this Head were circled in a Crown,
And I were King, by Fortune, as by Birth!
And that I was, till by thy Husband’s Power
I was divested in my Infancy—
Then you shou’d see, I do not flatter ye.
But I, instead of that, must see my Crown
Bandy’d from Head to Head, and tamely see it:
And in this wretched state I live, ‘tis true;
But with what Joy, you, if you lov’d, might guess.
Qu. We need no Crowns; Love best contented is
In shady Groves, and humble Cottages,
Where when ‘twould sport, it safely may retreat,
Free from the Noise and Danger of the Great;
Where Victors are ambitious of no Bays,
But what their Nymphs bestow on Holy-days;
Nor Envy can the amorous Shepherd move,
Unless against a Rival in his Love.
Abd. Love and Ambition are the same to me, In either I’ll no Rivals brook.