King. Come, Sir, let this ungrateful Theme alone, which is better disputed in the Field.
Queen. Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding betwixt my Lord and you? ’Twas to that end I first desired this Truce, my self proposing to be [Mediator], to which my Lord Cavernio shall agree, could you but condescend—I know you are noble: And I have heard you say our tender Sex could never plead in vain.
Bac. Alas! I dare not trust your pleading, Madam: a few soft Words from such a charming Mouth [would make me lay the Conqueror] at your Feet, as a Sacrifice for all the Ills he has done you.
Queen. How strangely am I pleas’d to hear him talk. Aside.
King. Semernia, see, the Dancers do appear;
Sir, will you take your Seat? To Bacon.
He leads the Queen to a Seat, they sit and talk.
Bac. Curse on his Sports that interrupted me, my very Soul was hovering at my Lip, ready to have discover’d all its Secrets. But oh! I dread to tell her of my pain, and when I wou’d an awful trembling seizes me, and she can only from my dying Eyes read all the Sentiments of my captive Heart. Sits down, the rest wait.
Enter Indians that dance [Anticks]: after the Dance the King seems in discourse with Bacon, the Queen rises and comes forth.
Queen. The more I gaze upon this English Stranger, the more Confusion struggles in my Soul: Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this Gallant Man (when Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) has told a thousand Tales of dying Maids; and ever when he spoke, my panting Heart, with a prophetick Fear in Sighs reply’d, I shall fall a Victim to his Eyes.