As if that faultless Face could make no Sin,
But Heaven by looking on it must forgive.
These are strange Compliments! Torrismond calls his Queen Rebel to her head, when he was both her General and her Lover. This is powerful Rhetorick to Court a Queen with! Enough one would think to have made the Affair desperate. But he has a Remedy at hand. The Poets Nostrum of Profaness cures all. He does as good as tell Her, she may Sin as much as she has a mind to. Her Face is a Protection to her Conscience. For Heaven is under a necessity to forgive a Handsom Woman. To say all this ought to be pass'd over in Torrismond on the score of his Passion, is to make the Excuse more scandalous than the Fault, if possible. Such Raptures are fit only for Bedlam, or a place which I shan't name. Love Triumphant will furnish another Rant not altogether inconsiderable. Here Celadea a Maiden Lady when she was afraid her Spark would be married to another, calls out presently for a Chaos. She is for pulling the World about her ears, tumbling all the Elements together, and expostulates with Heaven for making Humane Nature otherwise than it should have been.
Great Nature break thy chain that links together
The Fabrick of this Globe, and make a Chaos,
Like that within my Soul.——p. 52.[329]
Now to my fancy, if she had call'd for a Chair instead of a Chaos, trip'd off, and kept her folly to her self, the Woman had been much wiser. And since we have shown our Skill in vaulting on the High Ropes, a little Tumbling on the Stage, may not do amiss for variety.
Now then for a jest or two. Don Gomez shall begin:Spanish Fryar. p. 36.[330] And here he'le give us a Gingle upon the double meaning of a word.
I think, says Dominick the Fryar, it was my good Angel that sent me hither so opportunely. Gomez suspects him brib'd for no creditable business and answers.
Gom. Ay, whose good Angels sent you hither, that you know best, Father.