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.
There, sir,

Take back your weapon and be gone! but no
Return of words. Reserve your thanks,
'Cause it belongs to her; and you may guess,
Without offence, that I am loth to hear
She doth oblige another more than me.
AMAD. This favour I would ne'er receive,
Were not I secretly resolv'd to merit it.

[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,
Since ev'ry virtue now grows dangerous?

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
Thy beauty, as astronomers on stars ;

Who, when their better use they could not know,
Believ'd that they were only made for show.
[Exeunt severally.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter ORAMONT, AMADORE, severally.

AMADORE. Amongst the numberless affairs of life,
Not one can I remember that so much
Concerns my happiness, as now to find
Thee Oramont.

ORA. Inspir'd, thou dost foretell a joy
From the resentment of thy soul: For sure
I am the first can give it to thy sense.
The Queen, with soft appliances of love,
Is sent for by her Royal lord.
Men hope
He will invite her to his bed.

AMAD. This is a joy indeed! The noble are
Inclin'd to gladness when the virtuous taste
The just reward of their deserts.

ORA. Methinks thou dost but temperately
Receive what thou shouldst hastily devour.
Know, by his kind command, sh'ath laid aside
The holy robes; and now appears as she
Already did possess what only expectation
Yet can boast to have.

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
With penitence, but blood.

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
Hath wrong'd her virtue with mistakes, but
That I find, it is with reason's help, too well
Assur'd of her defects.

AMAD. Thy reason is but circumstantial,
False as a coward's fear, which multiplies
Each danger, that he would not meet until
It grows into impossibilities. Thy sister I
Have seen, and know her to be pure, as first
Created light, new spreading buds, and flowers
Ne'er handled in their growth, are not
More innocently sweet. How fierce will then
My anger prove, when 'tis not only exercis'd
In a revenge for that foul heresy,

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
Seen her, all the power of human art cannot
Redeem thee from her charms. She hath
Bewitch'd thee to a doating love, and told thee
Tales as void of truth, as those which Syrens sing,
When list'ning seamen perish in the flood
For what they foolishly believ'd.

AMAD. Can I hear this?

Shall I maintain fond patience at such great
Expense of my vex'd spirits, carelessly
T'encourage other men to slander her,
Whose piety did redeem me from just bonds?
Advance thy sword.

[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
Of doing ill because I did procure
Thy liberty, am I oblig'd to take

A ceremonious gratitude for thy

Offence; forgiving all thy sister's wrongs,
And those low jealousies did force from me?
Prepare!

ORA. The furious winds are not

More senseless in a storm. What reputation will
Thy anger have, when it proceeds without
Dispute, not staying for the usual credit of
A cause I shall believe th'ast none, unless
Discourse and reason give 't authority.

AMAD. To tell thee what I saw, or what
Eumena said, were strait to lose the brave
Just cause of my revenge; for then
I know thou wouldst repent.

ORA. I will not fight!

AMAD. O fates! What poor unworthy enemies
Do you provide for me? coward! thy former
Sins shall unregarded pass, compar'd to this;
For now thou wilt commit strange sacriledge,
Steal from th' hearse of thy great ancestor
All his victorious wreaths, and blast 'em with
The venom of a word.
[Oramont draws.

ORA. The seals of friendship are broken now-
Let's not

Destroy our selves, like vain fantastic fools,
Thus in the public view, but follow till I lead
Thee near a grove; and, though too late, thou shalt
Be taught how soon thy anger's flame will die,
Fed by the false fire of Eumena's eye.

[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!
It seems the waiters' table's first broke loose.
ALER. Now, are they talking of religion?
SAL. No, we should hear 'em then; because,
Men at a loss are ever loud.

THOR. Th' are talking of our sudden change i'th'
Court,

Which he in the dapple grey beard observes
T'important use; for, I dare warrant ye,
He swears if this inversion hold, he will
Recover by th' assistance of an old
Record, at least another rabbit to
Their second course.

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
Can ne'er reprieve 'em by law.

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,