Tyr. Say'st thou so, sir?
I were ungrateful, then, should I see thee
Want power, that provides content for me. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter L. Anselmus, the deposed King's brother, with his friend Votarius.
Vot. Pray, sir, confine your thoughts and excuse me,
Methinks the depos'd king your brother's sorrow,
Should find you business enough.
Ans. How, Votarius!
Sorrow for him? weak ignorance talks not like thee.
Why, he was never happier.
Vot. Pray, prove that, sir.
Ans. He's lost the kingdom, but his mind's restor'd;
Which is the larger empire? prythee, tell me:
Dominions have their limits; the whole earth
Is but a prisoner, as[455] the sea her jailor,
That with a silver hoop locks in her body.
They're fellow-prisoners, though the sea looks bigger,
Because it is in office; and pride swells him.
But the unbounded kingdom of the mind
Is as unlimitable as heav'n, that glorious court of spirits.
Sir, if thou lov'st me, turn thine eye to me,
And look not after him that needs thee not:
My brother's well-attended; peace and pleasure
Are never from his sight; he has his mistress.
She brought those servants, and bestow'd them on him;
But who brings mine?
Vot. Had you not both long since
By a kind worthy lady, your chaste wife?
Ans. That's it that I take pains with thee to be sure of.
What true report can I send to my soul
Of that I know not? We must only think
Our ladies are good people, and so live with 'em:
A fine security for them! our own thoughts
Make the best fools of us: next to them, our wives.
But say she's all chaste, yet is that her goodness?
What labour is't for woman to keep constant,
That's never tried or tempted? Where's her fight?
The war's within her breast, her honest anger
Against the impudence of flesh and hell:
So let me know the lady of my rest,
Or I shall never sleep well; give not me
The thing that is thought good, but what's approv'd so.
So wise men choose. O, what a lazy virtue
Is chastity in a woman, if no sin
Should lay temptation to't! prythee, set to her,
And bring my peace along with thee.
Vot. You put to me
A business that will do my words more shame,
Than ever they got honour among women.
Lascivious courtings among sinful mistresses
Come ever seasonable, please best.
But let the boldest ruffian touch the ear
Of modest ladies with adulterous sounds,
Their very looks confound him, and force grace
Into that cheek, where impudence sets her seal;
That work is never undertook with courage,
That makes his master blush. However, sir,
What profit can return to you by knowing
That which you do already with more toil?
Must a man needs, in having a rich diamond.
Put it between a hammer and an anvil,
And not believing the true worth and value,
Break it in pieces to find out the goodness,
And in the finding lose it? Good sir, think on't—
Nor does it taste of wit to try their strengths
That are created sickly, nor of manhood.
We ought not to put blocks in women's ways,
For some too often fall upon plain ground.
Let me dissuade you, sir!