Clar. 'Tis true; but yet
Your rigor to command him from your presence,
Argu'd but small compassion; the Groves
Witness his grievous sufferings, your fair name
Upon the rinde of every gentle Poplar,
And amorous Myrtle, (trees to Venus sacred)
With adoration carv'd, and knee[l']d unto,
This you (unseen of him) both saw and heard
Without compassion, and what receiv'd he
For his true sorrows? but the heavy knowledge,
That 'twas your peremptory will and pleasure,
(How e're my Lord liv'd in him) he should quit
Your sight and house for ever.
Cal. I confess I gave him a strong potion to work
Upon his hot bloud, and I hope 'twill cure him:
Yet I could wish the cause had concern'd others,
I might have met his sorrows with more pity;
At least have lent some counsel to his miseries,
Though now for honours sake, I must forget him,
And never know the name more of Lisander:
Yet in my justice I am bound to grant him,
(Laying his love aside) most truely noble.
But mention him no more, this instant hour
My Brother Lidian, new return'd from travel,
And his brave friend Clarange, long since rivals
For fair and rich Olinda, are to hear
Her absolute determination, whom
She pleases to elect: see all things ready
To entertain 'em: and on my displeasure
No more words of Lisander.
Clar. She endures to hear him nam'd by no tongue but her own:
How e're she carries it, I know she loves him. [Exit.
Cal. Hard nature: hard condition of poor women!
That where we are most su'd to, we must flye most.
The trees grow up, and mix together freely,
The Oak's not envious of the sailing Cedar,
The lustie Vine not jealous of the Ivie
Because she clips the Elm; the flowers shoot up,
And wantonly kiss one another hourly,
This blossome glorying in the others beauty,
And yet they smell as sweet, and look as lovely:
But we are ty'd to grow alone. O honour,
Thou hard Law to our lives, chain to our freedoms
He that invented thee had many curses;
How is my soul divided! O Cleander,
My best deserving husband! O Lisander,
The truest lover that e're sacrific'd
To Cupid against Hymen! O mine honour;
A Tyrant, yet to be obey'd! and 'tis
But justice we should thy strict Laws endure,
Since our obedience to thee keeps us pure. [Exit.
Enter Cle[a]nder, Lidian, and Clarange.
Clean. How insupportable the difference
Of dear friends is, the sorrow that I feel
For my Lisanders absence, one that stamps
A reverend print on friendship, does assure me.
You are rivals for a Lady, a fair Lady,
And in the acquisition of her favours,
Hazard the cutting of that Gordian knot
From your first childhood to this present hour,
By all the tyes of love and amity fasten'd.
I am blest in a wife (Heaven make me thankfull)
Inferiour to none (sans pride I speak it)
Yet if I were a free-man, and could purchase
At any rate the certainty to enjoy
Lisanders conversation while I liv'd,
Forgive me my Calista, and the Sex,
I never would seek change.
Lid. My Lord and Brother,
I dare not blame your choice, Lisanders worth
Being a Mistris to be ever courted;
Nor shall our equal suit to fair Olinda
Weaken, but adde strength to our true affection,
With zeal so long continued.
Claran. When we know
Whom she prefers, as she can choose but one,
By our so long tri'd friendship we have vow'd
The other shall desist.
Clea. 'Tis yet your purpose,
But how this resolution will hold
In him that is refus'd, is not alone
Doubtfull, but dangerous.