EUME. Have you not said, I ne'er should be denied? KING. Y'are wondrous fond of men that do you wrong: Is this deriv'd from pity, or from love? EUME. There is no pity, sir, if it be meant For benefit and use, but hath Some little relish in't of love. KING. Thou never wert too kind till now. Take back your weapon and be gone! but no [Erit Amadore. KING. Eumena, you are merciful to all Beneath your self. O! that I were no King, If thy affection only can descend. EUME. Why should old weary Time run on, make The world continue that deserves to cease, Can you be jealous of my mercy, sir? and KING. Farewell, neglectful maid! how long have I Endur'd those narrow payments of thy love, For mine, bestow'd with such excess, and in A dull surmise thou couldst not love at all? But I, alas! was ignorant of thee, As men have ever been of things Most excellent, making such judgement on Who, when their better use they could not know, ACT IV. SCENE I. Enter ORAMONT, AMADORE, severally. AMADORE. Amongst the numberless affairs of life, ORA. Inspir'd, thou dost foretell a joy AMAD. This is a joy indeed! The noble are ORA. Methinks thou dost but temperately AMAD. Thou hast declar'd enough to make me think The destinies have careful been of her, Though not of thee, unlucky friend. Thy jealousies Betray'd me to such false ignoble doubts, As must undo us both; for the abuse Of ladies' honours never can be satisfied ORA. What means my friend? AMAD. To chastise thee for those unmanly and Too curious fears, that so have sullied the Most fair complexion of thy sister's fame. ORA. Thou hast but nam'd her, Amadore, And I already feel a deadly weight upon My heart, not 'cause I think my forward faith AMAD. Thy reason is but circumstantial, With which thou didst infect my soul, but 'Cause it took all quiet peace from hers. ORA. With what prophetic care I fain would have Preserv'd thee from her eyes. Now thou hast AMAD. Can I hear this? Shall I maintain fond patience at such great [Draws. ORA. Stay, Amadore! I knew not that she Gave thee liberty, but that thou gavest me Mine my memory doth now confess with so Much gratitude I cannot be provoked T'attempt thy life. AMAD. Heavens! Why did you make me kind If to do good draws on the consequence A ceremonious gratitude for thy Offence; forgiving all thy sister's wrongs, ORA. The furious winds are not More senseless in a storm. What reputation will AMAD. To tell thee what I saw, or what ORA. I will not fight! AMAD. O fates! What poor unworthy enemies ORA. The seals of friendship are broken now- Destroy our selves, like vain fantastic fools, [Exeunt. Enter ALERAN, SALADINE, THORELLO. ALER. This is the Queen's privy chamber, sure! I wonder 'tis so empty, when so great Disorders are at hand; each faction met In several crowds. THOR. 'Tis strange! As, after ev'ry raging storm, Merchants and mariners flock to th' Exchange, To hear what mischief's done at sea; so now, Methinks, the politic, and those that would Be thought such-men old in offices, and those Whose infant hopes are newly crying out, 'Cause their reversions have not pass'd the seals; Nay, and lovers of either sex, should all meet Here, to scatter and to gather news. Enter OLD COURTIERS, picking their teeth, and striking off crumbs from their skirts. SAL. Behold the formal Antiquaries! THOR. Th' are talking of our sudden change i'th' Which he in the dapple grey beard observes SAL. Pox! he can never do't. That record has been sufficiently studied. ALER. Y'are in the right! Besides, by a decree Of the same date, they have lost the dried sweet meats Due from his Highness' table, and 'tis thought Enter GARTHA and one LADY, who curtsey to THORELLO, very low; then bow to the others, they to them. THOR. That's Gartha, Eumena's woman, |