Queen. This, Philocles, like strange perverseness shews, As if whate'er I said you would oppose; How come you thus concerned for this unknown?
Phil. I only judge his actions by my own.
Queen. I've heard too much, and you too much have said. O heavens, the secret of my soul's betrayed! He knows my love, I read it in his face, And blushes, conscious of his queen's disgrace. [Aside. Hence quickly, hence, or I shall die with shame. [To him.
Phil. Now I love both, and both with equal flame. Wretched I came, more wretched I retire: When two winds blow it, who can quench the fire? [Exit PHILOCLES.
Queen. O my Asteria! I know not whom to accuse; But either my own eyes, or you, have told My love to Philocles.
Ast. Is't possible that he should know it, madam?
Queen. Methinks, you ask that question guiltily. [Lays her hand on ASTERIA'S shoulder. Confess, for I will know, what was the subject Of your long discourse i'th' antichamber with him.
Ast. It was business to convince him, madam, How ill he did, being so much obliged, To join in your imprisonment.
Queen. Nay, now I am confirmed my thought was true; For you could give him no such reason Of his obligements, as my love.
Ast. Because I saw him much a malecontent,
I thought to win him to your interest, madam,
By telling him it was no want of kindness,
Made your refusal of Candiope.
And he, perhaps—