Flo. Which, if I marry you, I am resolved to wear; put that into our bargain, and so adieu, sir.
[Exit FLO.
Phil. Hark you, cousin,—[They whisper. You'll see it exactly executed; I rely upon you.
Cel. I shall not fail, my lord; may the conclusion of it prove happy to you. [Exit CEL.
PHILOCLES solus.
Wheree'er I cast about my wandering eyes,
Greatness lies ready in some shape to tempt me.
The royal furniture in every room,
The guards, and the huge waving crowds of people,
All waiting for a sight of that fair queen,
Who makes a present of her love to me:
Now tell me, Stoick!
If all these with a wish might be made thine,
Would'st thou not truck thy ragged virtue for 'em?
If glory was a bait, that angels swallow'd,
How then should souls allied to sense resist it?
Enter CANDIOPE.
Ah poor Candiope! I pity her,
But that is all.—
Cand. O my dear Philocles!
A thousand blessings wait on thee!
The hope of being thine, I think, will put
Me past my meat and sleep with ecstasy,
So I shall keep the fasts of seraphims,
And wake for joy, like nightingales in May.
Phil. Wake, Philocles, wake from thy dream of
glory,
'Tis all but shadow to Candiope:
Canst thou betray a love so innocent? [Aside.