Enter Honor.
Hon. What intrusion's this?
Whom do you seek here.
Lov. 'Tis honor.
For. [He my] servant.
Lov. Fortune is come to visit us.
Hon. And has
Corrupted Love: Is this thy faith to her,
On whom we both waite, to betray her thus
To Fortunes triumph? take her giddy wheel,
And be no more companion to honor;
I blush to know thee, Who'll believe there can
Be truth in Love hereafter?
Lov. I have found
My eyes, and see my shame, and with it, this
Proud sorceress, from whom, and all her charmes,
I flye agen to Honor, be my guard,
Without thee I am lost, and cannot boast,
The merit of a name.
For. Despis'd? I shall
Remember this affront.
Dem. What Moral's this? [Exeunt.
Enter Honor with the Crown upon a mourning Cushion.
What melancholly object strikes a sudden
Chillness through all my veines; and turns me Ice?
It is the same I sent, the very same,
As the first pledge of her insuing greatness:
Why in this mourning livery, if she live
To whom I sent it? ha, What shape of sorrow?
Enter Polidora in mourning.
It is not Polidora, she was faire
Enough, and wanted not the setting off
With such a black: if thou beest Polidora,
Why mournes my love? it neither does become
Thy fortune, nor my joyes.
Pol. But it becomes
My griefs, this habit fits a funeral,
And it were sin, my Lord, not to lament
A friend new dead.
Dem. And I yet living? can
A sorrow enter but upon thy Garment,
Or discomplexion thy attire, whilst I
Enjoy a life for thee? Who can deserve,
Weigh'd with thy living comforts, but a piece
Of all this Ceremony? give him a name.
Pol. He was Arcadius.
Dem. Arcadius?
Pol. A Gentleman that lov'd me dearly once,
And does compel these poor, and fruitless drops,
Which willingly would fall upon his hearse,
To imbalme him twice.
Dem. And are you sure hee's dead?
Pol. As sure as you'r living, Sir, and yet
I did not close his eyes, but he is dead,
And I shall never see the same Arcadius:
He was a Man so rich in all that's good,
At least I thought him so, so perfect in
The rules of honor, whom alone to imitate
Were glory in a Prince, Nature her self,
Till his creation, wrought imperfectly,
As she had made but tryal of the rest,
To mould him excellent.
Dem. And is he dead?
Come, shame him not with praises, recollect
Thy scatter'd hopes, and let me tell my best,
And dearest Polidora, that he lives,
Still lives to honor thee.
Pol. Lives, Where?
Dem. Look here.
Am not I worth your knowledge?
Pol. And my duty,
You are Demetrius, King of Epire, Sir.
I could not easily mistake him so,
To whom I gave my heart.
Dem. Mine is not chang'd,
But still hath fed upon thy memory,
These honors, and additions of state
Are lent me for thy sake, be not so strange,
Let me not lose my entertainment, now
I am improv'd, and rais'd unto the height,
Beneath which, I did blush to ask thy love.
Pol. Give me your pardon, Sir, Arcadius,
At our last meeting, without argument,
To move him more than his affection to me,
Vow'd he did love me; love me [above all] Women,
And to confirm his heart, was truely mine,
He wish'd, I tremble to remember it,
When he forsook his Polidora's love,
That Heaven might kill his happiness on Earth:
Was not this nobly said? did not this promise
A truth to shame the Turtles?
Dem. And his heart
Is still the same, and I thy constant Lover.
Pol. Give me your leave, I pray, I would not say,
Arcadius was perjur'd, but the same day
Forgetting all his promises, and oathes,
While yet they hung upon his lips, forsook me,
D'ee not remember this too, gave his faith
From me, transported with the noise of greatness,
And would be married to a Kingdom.
Dem. But Heaven permitted not I should dispose
What was ordain'd for thee.
Pol. It was not virtue
In him, for sure he found no check, no sting
In his own bosome, but gave freely all
The reines to blind ambition.
Dem. I am wounded,
The thought of thee ith' throng of all my joyes,
Like poyson powr'd in Nectar, turnes me frantick:
Dear, if Arcadius have made a fault,
Let not Demetrius be punish'd for't,
He pleads that ever will be constant to thee.
Pol. Shall I believe Mans flatteries agen,
Lose my sweet rest, and peace of thought agen,
Be drawn by you, from the streight paths of virtue,
Into the maze of Love.
Dem. I see compassion in thy eye, that chides me,
If I have either soul, but what's contain'd
Within these words, or if one syllable
Of their full force, be not made good by me,
May all relenting thoughts in you take end,
And thy disdain be doubled, from thy pardon,
I'll count my Coronation; and that hour
Fix with a rubrick in my Calendar,
As an auspicious time, to entertain
Affairs of weight with Princes; think who now
Intreats thy mercy, come, thou sha't be kind,
And divide Titles with me.
Pol. Hear me, Sir,
I lov'd you once for virtue, and have not
A thought so much unguarded, as to be won
From my truth, and innocence with any
Motives of state to affect you,
Your bright temptation mourns while it stayes here;
Nor can the triumph of glory, which made you
Forget me, so court my opinion back,
Were you no King, I should be sooner drawn
Again to love you, but 'tis now too late,
A low obedience shall become me best:
May all the joyes I want
Still wait on you, if time hereafter tell you,
That sorrow for your fault hath struck me dead,
May one soft tear drop from your eye, in pitty
Bedew my hearse, and I shall sleep securely:
I have but one word more for goodness sake,
For your own honor, Sir, correct your passion,
To her you shall love next, and I forgive you. [Exit.
Dem. Her heart is frozen up, nor can warm prayers
Thaw it to any softness.
Phi. I'll fetch her, Sir, again.
Dem. Perswade her not.
Phi. You give your passion too much leave to triumph.
Seek in another what she denies.
Enter Macarius.
Mac. Where's the King? oh, Sir, you are undone,
A dangerous treason is a foot.
Dem. What Treason?
Mac. Cassander, and Eubulus have proclaim'd
Another King, whom they pretend to be
Leonatus your elder Brother, he that was,
But this morning prisoner in the Castle.
Dem. Ha?
Mac. The easie Epirotes
Gather in multitudes to advance his Title,
They have seised upon the Court, secure your person,
Whilst we raise power to curbe this Insurrection.
Ant. Lose no time then.
Dem. We will not Arme one Man,
Speak it agen, have I a brother living?
And must be no King.
Mac. What means your Grace?
Dem. This newes doth speak me happy, it exalts
My heart, and makes me capable of more
Than twenty Kingdoms.
Phi. Will you not, Sir, stand
Upon your guard?
Dem. I'll stand upon my honor,
Mercy relieves me.
Lisa. Will you lose the Kingdom?
Dem. The World's too poor to bribe me: leave
Me all, lest you extenuate my fame, and I
Be thought to have redeem'd it by your counsel,
You shall not share one scruple in the honor;
Titles may set a gloss upon our Name,
But Virtue onely is the soul of Fame.
Mac. He's strangely possest Gentlemen. [Exeunt Omnes.