Er. Nay, Sir, you promis’d me you wou’d not blame My early Love, if ‘twere a noble Flame.
Org. Than this a more unhappy could not be; Destroy it, or expect to hear of me. [Offers to go out.
Er. Alas, I know ‘twould anger you, when known. [She stays him.
Org. Erminia, you are wondrous daring grown. Where got you courage to admit his Love, Before the King or I did it approve?
Er. I borrow’d Courage from my Innocence, And my own Virtue, Sir, was my defence. Philander never spoke but from a Soul, That all dishonest Passions can controul; With Flames as chaste as Vestals that did burn, From whence I borrow’d mine, to make return.
Org. Your Love from Folly, not from Virtue grew; You never could believe he’d marry you.
Er. Upon my life no other thing he spoke, But those from dictates of his Honour took.
Org. Though by his fondness led he were content
To marry thee, the King would ne’er consent.
Cease then this fruitless Passion, and incline
Your Will and Reason to agree with mine,
Alcippus I dispos’d you to before,
And now I am inclin’d to it much more.
Some days I had design’d t’have given thee
To have prepar’d for this solemnity;
But now my second thoughts believe it fit,
You should this night to my desires submit.
Er. This night! Ah, Sir, what is’t you mean to do?
Org. Preserve my Credit, and thy Honour too.