La G. He dines abroad, my lord.
Duke. Colonel, this day you shall bestow on me:
I owe the Duchess Claudilla a visit;
Make ready straight; we'll spend a dinner-time
There, and the afternoon at tennis. [Exeunt.
A Song.
That done, Claudilla and De Flame discovered sitting in a rich couch; at each end a lady waiting.
De F. This does but find our melancholy out,
And cast it in a minute's trance; when one
Soft accent from Claudilla's voice leaves nought
That's earth about me. My soul's in her Elysium,
And every sense immortal, dilated into joys:
Heaven becomes attentive, and the soft winds
Put on their perfum'd wings to hover near those lips.
That blush does show the sparkles of some incensed thought!
My poor expressions rob ye; but I appeal
To this white hand for pardon.
Claud. Sir, my thoughts are all acknowledgments of that delight
I hear and see you with, what dress soe'er you please
To send your courtship in to try 'em;
We have outliv'd those arts and common charms,
And need not seek our hearts in scatter'd flames;
As those, whose lesson yet is at the hand or eye;
Our hearts have read Love's deep divinity
And all his amorous volumes over; we must write
Stories of our love, my lord.
De F. And chaste ones, madam:
How glorious the frontispiece would show
With great Claudilla's name, tried in a true
Love's knot to her De Flame's! Though the
Great distance of your shining attributes both
Of blood and virtue, consider'd in the poverty of mine,
Would draw squint eyes and envy to my stars;
But speak your name great as the example of your
Goodness, and make it worth the imitation
Of all noble minds, that shall but read your love
And sweetness, which (most excellent of your sex)
Condescended unto me, who else had
Languish'd in a heap of ashes.
Claud. My lord, you have found an easy way into
My heart, and won me from myself, ere I
Could call my thoughts [forth] to resistance;
Such strength brought your deserts! But now
I hope, nay, can be confident (best sir), they are
Treasured in a breast, whose virtues will
Preserve them with themselves.
De F. O madam!
Claud. It may be, some discourse that, when first
I entertain'd your love, I had not yet given
The world and my dead husband's earth a full
Accompt of sorrow, or paid his memory
A year's just rent of tears: but I appeal
To my own heart; and you, my lord, can say——