Phil. Your goodness still prevents my wishes.—
Yet I have one request,
Might it not pass almost for madness, and
Extreme ambition in me—
Queen. You know you have a favourable judge; It lies in you not to ask any thing I cannot grant.
Phil. Madam, perhaps, you think me too faulty: But love alone inspires me with ambition, Tho' but to look on fair Candiope were an excuse for both.
Queen. Keep your ambition, and let love alone:
That I can cloy, but this I cannot cure.
I have some reasons (invincible to me) which must forbid
Your marriage with Candiope.
Phil. I knew I was not worthy.
Queen. Not for that, Philocles; you deserve all things,
And, to shew I think it, my admiral, I hear, is dead;
His vacant place (the best in all my kingdom,)
I here confer on you.
Phil. Rather take back all you had giv'n before,
Than not give this;
For believe, madam, nothing is so near
My soul, as the possession of Candiope.
Queen. Since that belief would be to your disadvantage, I will not entertain it.
Phil. Why, madam, can you be thus cruel to me?
To give me all things, which I did not ask,
And yet deny that only thing, I beg:
And so beg, that I find I cannot live
Without the hope of it.
Queen. Hope greater things; But hope not this. Haste to o'ercome your love; It is but putting a short-liv'd passion to a violent death.