Enter Sophia.
How much your grace honors your humble servant.
Sop. I hope my brother's well.
Pol. I hope so too, Madam.
Sop. Do you but hope? he came to be your guest.
Pol. We are all his, whilst he is pleas'd to honor
This poor roof with his royal presence, Madam.
Sop. I came to ask your pardon Polidora.
Pol. You never, Madam, trespass'd upon me,
Wrong not your goodness.
Sop. I can be but penitent,
Unless you point me out some other way
To satisfie.
Pol. Dear Madam, do not mock me.
Sop. [There [is] no injury like that to love,
I find it now in my own sufferings:
But though I would have rob'd thee of Arcadius
Heaven knew a way to reconcile your hearts,
And [punish[d] me in those joys you have found:
I read the story of my loss of honor,
Yet can rejoyce, and heartily, that you
Have met your own agen.
Pol. Whom do you mean?
Sop. My brother.
Pol. He is found to himself and honor,
He is my King, and though I must acknowledge
He was the glory of my thoughts, and I
Lov'd him, as you did, Madam, with desire
To be made his, reason, and duty since,
Form'd me to other knowledge, and I now
Look on him without any wish of more
Than to be call'd his subject.
Sop. Has he made
Himself less capable by being King?
Pol. Of what?
Sop. Of your affection.
Pol. With your pardon, Madam.
Love in that sense you mean, left Polidora
When he forsook Arcadius, I disclaim
All ties between us, more than what a name
Of King must challenge from my obedience.
Sop. This does confirm my jealousie, my heart,
For my sake, Madam, has he lost his value?
Pol. Let me beseech your grace, I may have leave
To answer in some other cause, or person:
This argument but opens a sad wound
To make it bleed afresh; we may change this
Discourse: I would elect some subject, whose
Praises may more delight your ear than this
Can mine; let's talk of young Lisimachus.
Sop. Ha? my presaging fears.
Pol. How does your grace?
Sop. Well, you were talking of Lisimachus,
Pray give me your opinion of him.
Pol. Mine?
It will be much short of his worth: I think him
A gentleman so perfect in all goodness,
That if there be one in the world deserves
The best of women, heaven created him,
To make her happy.
Sop. You have, in a little, Madam,
Exprest a volume of mankind, a miracle;
But all have not the same degree of faith,
He is but young.
Pol. What Mistriss would desire
Her servant old? he has both Spring to please
Her eye and Summer to return a harvest.
Sop. He is black.
[P[o]l.] He sets a beauty off more rich,
And she that's fair will love him; faint complexions
Betray effeminate minds, and love of change:
Two beauties in a bed, compound few men;
He's not so fair to counterfeit a woman,
Nor yet so black, but blushes may betray
His modesty.
Sop. His proportion exceeds not.
Pol. That praises him, and a well compacted frame
Speaks temper, and sweet flow of elements:
Vast buildings are more oft for shew than use:
I would not have my eyes put to the travel
Of many acres, e'r I could examine
A man from head to foot; he has no great,
But he may boast, an elegant composition.
Sop. I'll hear no more, you have so far out-done
My injuries to you, that I call back
My penitence, and must tell Polidora,
This revenge ill becomes her. Am I thought
So lost in soul to hear, and forgive this?
In what shade do I live? or shall I think
I have not, at the lowest, enough merit,
Setting aside my birth, to poize with yours:
Forgive my modest thoughts, if I rise up
[In] my own defence, and tell this unjust Lady
So great a winter hath not frozen yet
My cheek, but [there [is] something nature planted,
That carries as much bloom, and spring upon't,
As yours. What flame is in your eye, but may
Find competition here? (forgive agen
My Virgin [honor,) what] is in your lip
To tice the enamour'd soul, to dwell with more
Ambition, than the yet unwither'd blush
That speaks the innocence of mine?
Enter Demetrius.
Oh brother?
Dem. I'll talk with you anon, my Polidora,
Allow thy patience till my breath recover,
Which now comes laden with the richest news
Thy ear was ever blest with.
Sop. Both your looks,
And voice express some welcome accident.
Dem. Guess what in wish could make me fortunate
And heaven hath dropt that on Demetrius.
Sop. What means this extasie?
Dem. 'Twere sin to busie
Thy thoughts upon't, I'll tell thee that I could
Retein some part; 'tis too wide a joy
To be exprest so soon, and yet it falls
In a few syllables, thou wot scarce believe me,
I am no King.
Sop. How's that!
Pol. Good Heaven forbid.
Dem. Forbid? Heaven has reliev'd me with a mercy
I knew not how to ask, I have, they say,
An elder brother living, crown'd already,
I only keep my name Demetrius,
Without desire of more addition,
Than to return thy servant.
Pol. You amaze me,
Can you rejoyce to be deposed:
Dem. It but
Translates me to a fairer and better Kingdom
In Polidora.
Pol. Me?
Dem. Did you not say,
Were I no King, you could be drawn to love
Me agen, that was consented to in Heaven:
A Kingdom first betraid my ambitious soul
To forget thee, that, and the flattering glories,
How willingly Demetrius [does] resign,
The Angels know: thus naked without Titles
I throw me on thy charity, and shall
Boast greater Empire to be thine agen, than
To wear the triumphs of the world upon me.
Enter Macarius.
Mac. Be not so careless of your self, the people
Gather in multitudes to your protection
Offering their lives and fortunes, if they may
But see you Sir, and hear you speak to 'em,
Accept their duties, and in time prevent
Your ruin.
Sop. Be not desperate, 'tis counsel.
Dem. You trouble me with noise, speak Polidora.
Pol. For your own sake preserve your self,
My fears distract my reason.
Enter Antigonus.
Ant. Lord Lisimachus,
With something that concerns your safety, is
Fled hither, and desires a present hearing.
Mac. His soul is honest, be not, Sir, a mad man,
And for a Lady, give up all our freedoms. [Exit.
Pol. I'll say any thing here, Lisimachus.
Sop. Dear brother hear him.
Enter Lisimachus.
Lis. Sir, I come to yield
My self your prisoner, if my father have
Rais'd an Impostor to supplant your Title
Which I suspect, and inwardly do bleed for,
I shall not only, by the tender of
My self, declare my innocence, but either,
By my unworthy life, secure your person,
Or by what death you shall impose, reward
The unexpected Treason.
Sop. Brave young man,
Did you not hear him Brother?
Lis. I am not minded.
Pol. Be witness Madam, I resign my heart
It never was anothers, you declare
Too great a satisfaction, I hope
This will destroy your jealousie,
Remember now your danger.
Dem. I despise it,
What fate dares injure me?
Lis. Yet hear me Sir.
Sop. Forgive me Polidora, you are happy,
My hopes are remov'd farther, I had thought
Lisimachus had meant you for his Mistriss,
'Tis misery to feed, and not know where
To place my jealousie.