Euph. To shew the passive fortitude the best;
Vertue's a solid Rock, whereat being aym'd
The keenest darts of envy, yet unhurt
Her Marble Heroes stand, built of such Bases,
Whilst they recoyle, and wound the Shooters faces.
Enter Queen and Ladies.
Con. My Lord, the Queen.
Quee. Gentle Euphanes, how,
How do'st thou honest Lord? oh how I joy
To see what I have made, like a choyce Workman,
That having fram'd a Master-piece, doth reap
An universal commendation.
Princes are Gods in this. I'll build thee yet
(The good foundation so pleases me)
A story or two higher; let dogs bark,
They are fools that hold them dignified by blood,
They should be only made great that are good.
Euph. Oraculous Madam.
Quee. Sirrah, I was thinking
If I should marry thee, what merry tales
Our neighbour Islands would make of us;
But let that pass, you have a Mistriss
That would forbid our Banes: troth I have wish'd
A thousand times that I had been a man,
Than I might sit a day with thee alone,
And talk,
But as I am I must not; there's no skill
In being good, but in not being thought ill.
Sirrah, who's that?
Euph. So't please your Majesty
Conon, the friend I su'd for.
Quee. 'Tis dispatch'd.
Con. Gracious Madam.
I owe the gods and you my life.
Quee. I thank you,
I thank you heartily; and I do think you
A very honest man, he says you are:
But now I'll chide thee; what's the cause my Son,
For my eye's every where, and I have heard,
So insolently do's thee Contumelies
Past sufferance (I am told) yet you complain not,
As if my justice were so partial
As not to right the meanest: credit me,
I'll call him to a strict account, and fright,
By his example, all that dare curb me
In any thing that's just: I sent you for him.