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Asp. Go, and be happy in your lady's love. Amin. Come, this is but the coyriess of a bride. May all the wrongs, that you have done to me, Evad. The coyness of a bride? Be utterly forgotten in my death!
Amin. How prettily that frown becomes thee. I'll trouble you no more; yet I will take
Evad. Do you like it so? A parting kiss, and will not be denied.
Amin. Thou canst not dress thy face in such a You'll come, my lord, and see the virgins weep,
look, When I am laid in earth, though you yourself But I shall like it. Can know no pity. Thus I wind myself
Evod. What look likes you best? Into this willow garland, and am prouder,
Amin. Why do you ask? That I was once your love, though now refused, Evad. That I may shew you one less pleasing Than to have had another true to me.
to you. So with my prayers I leave you, and must try Amin. How's that? Some yet unpractised way to grieve and die. [Erit. Evad. That I may show you one less pleasing
Dula. Come, ladies, will you go?
Amin. I prithee, put thy jests in milder looks. Amin. Much happiness unto you all!
It shows as thou wert angry. [Ereunt ladies.
Evad. So, perhaps, I did that lady wrong: Methinks, I feel
I am indeed. Her grief shoot suddenly through all my veins. Amin. Why, who has done thee wrong? Mine eyes run : This is strange at such a time. Name me the man, and by thyself I swear, It was the king first moved me to't; but he Thy yet un-conquer'd self, I will revenge thee. Has not my will in keeping. Why do I
Eved. Now I shall try thy truth. If thou dost Perplex myself thus ? Something whispers me, · Go not to bed.' My guilt is not so great Thou weighest not any thing compared with me: As my own conscience, too sensible,
Life, honour, joys eternal, all delights Would make me think: I only brake a promise, This world can yield, or hopeful people feign, And 'twas the king that forced me. Timorous flesh, or in the life to come, are light as air Why shak’st thou so ? Away, my idle fcars ! To a true lover, when his lady frowns,
And bids him do this. Wilt thou kill this man? Enter EVADNE.
Swear, my Amintor, and I'll kiss the sin Yonder she is, the lustre of whose eye
Of from thy lips. Can blot away the sad remembrance
Amin. I will not swear, swect love, Of all these things. Oh, my Evadne, spare
Till I do know the cause. That tender body; let it not take cold.
Evad. I would, thou would'st. The vapours of the night will not fall here; Why, it is thou, that wrong'st me; I hate thee; To bed, my love. Hymen will punish us Thou should'st have killed thyself. For being slack performers of his rites.
Amin. If I should know that, I should quickly Cam'st thou to call me?
kill Evad. No.
The man, you hated. Amin. Come, come, my love,
Evad. Know it then, and do it. And let us loose ourselves to one another.
Amin. Oh, no; what look soe'er thou shalt put on Why art thou up so long?
To try my faith, I shall not think thee false : Évad. I am not well.
I cannot find one blemish in thy face, Amin. To bed then; let me wind thee in these Where falsehood should abide. Leave, and to bed. arms,
This cannot be Till I have banished sickness.
Thy natural temper. Shall I call thy maids ? Erad. Good my lord,
Either thy healthful sleep hath left thee long, I cannot sleep.
Or else some fever rages in thy blood. Amin. Evadne, we will watch;
Evad. Neither, Amintor: Think you I am mad, I mean no sleeping.
Because I speak the truth? Evad. I'll not go to bed.
Amin. Will you not lie with me to-night? Amin. I prithee, do.
Evad. To-night! you talk as if I would hereafter. Evad. I will not for the world.
Amin. Hereafter! yes, I do. Amin. Why, my dear love?
Evad. You are deceived. Evad. Why? I have sworn I will not. Put off amazement, and with patience mark Amin. Sworn!
What I shall utter; for the oracle Evad. Ay.
Knows nothing truer : 'tis not for a night, Amin. How! sworn, Evadne?
Or two, that I forbear thy bed, but for over. Etad. Yes, sworn, Amintor;
Amin. I dream! Awake, Amintor! And will swear again, if you will wish to hear me. Evnd. You hear right.
Amin. To whom have you sworn this? I sooner will find out the beds of snakes, Etad. If I should name him, the matter were And with my youthful blood warm their cold fesh, not grcat.
Letting thein curl themselves about my limbs,
Than sleep one night with thee. This is not Amin. I sleep, and am too temperate! Come to feigned,
bed! Nor sounds it like the coyness of a bride. Or by those hairs, which, if thou hadst a soul
Amin. Is flesh so earthly to endure all this? Like to thy locks, were threads for kings to wear
About their arms-
Amin. I will drag thee to my bed, and make thy
Undo this wicked oath, or on thy flesh
Every ill-sounding word, or threatening look,
Thou shewest to me, will be revenged at full.
Amin. It will not, sure, Evadne?
Evad. Do not you
To sleep with thee, because I have put on
And thou shalt find the hot and rising blood
Unapt for such a vow. No; in this heart
There dwells as much desire as ever yet
Was known to woman.
To think this beauty, to what land soever
It shall be called, shall stoop to any
second. Is your doubt over now?
I do enjoy the best, and in that height Amin. I know too inuch. 'Would I had doubt- Have sworn to stand or die: You guess the man. ed still!
Amin. No; let me know the man, that wrongs Was ever such a marriage night as this !
That I may cut his body into motes,
Amin. Do not wrong me so.
That it were death to touch, I have a soul
Amin. The king!
Evad. What will you do now?
Evad. What did he make this match for, dull
' The king,' there lies a terror. What frail man
Amin. What a strange thing am I !
Evad. A miserable one; one, that myself.
Am sorry for.
Amin. Why, shew it then in this:
Thou hast an easy temper, fit for stamp.
Ant. Nor I.
wise : To rid a lingering wretch.
At least, be more than I was; and be sure Evad. I must have one
You credit any thing the light gives light to, To fill thy room again, if thou wert dead;
Before a man. Rather believe the sea Else, by this night, I would: I pity thee. Weeps for the ruined merchant, when he roars; Amin. These strange and sudden injuries have Rather, the wind courts but the preşnant sails, fallen
When the strong cordage crachs; rather, the sun So thick upon me, that I lose all sense
Comes but to kiss the fruit in wealthy autumn, Of what they are. Methinks, I am not wronged; When all falls blasted. If you needs must love, Nor is it aught, if from the censuring world (Forced by ill fate) take to your maiden bosoins I can but hide it. Reputation !
Two dead-cold aspicks, and of them make lovers: Thou art a word, no more.—But thou hast shewn They cannot flatter, nor forswear; one kiss An impudence so high, that to the world Makes a long peace for all. But man, I fear thou wilt betray or shame thyself. Oh, that beast man! Come, let's be sad, my girls!
Evad. To cover shame, I took thee; never fear That down-cast of thine eye, Olympias, That I would blaze myself.
Shews a fine sorrow. Mark, Antiphila; Amin. Nor let the king
Just such another was the nymph (Enone, Know, I conceive he wrongs me; then mine honour When Paris brought home II elen. Now, a tear; Will thrust me into action, though my flesh And then thou art a piece expressing fully Could bear with patience. And it is some case The Carthage queen, when, from a cold sea-rock, To me in these extremes, that I knew this, Full with her sorrow, she tied fast her eyes Before I touched thee; else, had all the sins To the fair Trojan ships; and, having lost them, Of mankind stood betwixt me and the king, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear. Antiphila, I had gone through them to his heart and thine. What would this wench do, if she were Aspatia? I have lost one desire: 'Tis not his crown Here she would stand, till some more pitying god Shall buy me to thy bed now, I resolve,
Turned her to marble! It is enough, my wench! He has dishonoured thee. Give me thy hand; Shew me the piece of needlework you wrought. Be careful of thy credit, and sin closc;
Ant. Of Ariadne, madam? 'Tis all I wish. Upon thy chamber floor
Asp. Yes, that piece. I'll rest to-night, that morning visitors
This should be Theseus; he has a cozening face : May think we did as married people use.
You meant him for a man? And, prithee, smile upon me when they come, Ant. He was so, madani. And seem to toy, as if thou hadst been pleased Asp. Why, then, 'tis well enough. Never look With what we did.
back; Evad. Fear not; I will do this.
You have a full wind, and a false heart, Theseus? Amin. Come, let us practise; and, as wantonly Does not the story say, his keel was split, As ever loving bride and bridegroom met, Or his masts spent, or some kind rock or other Let's laugh and enter here.
Met with his vessel ? Evad. I am content,
Ant. Not as I remember. Amin. Down all the swellings of my troubled Asp. It should have been so. Could the gods heart!
know this, When we walk thus entwined, let all eyes see, And not, of all their number, raise a storm? If ever lovers better did agree. [Ercunt. But they are all as ill! This false smile was
Well expressed; just such another caught me! Enter AspaTIA, ANTIPHILA, and OLYMFIAS.
You shall not go on so, Antiphila : Asp. Away, you are not sad; force it no further. In this place work a quicksand, Good gods, how well you look! Such a full colour And over it a shallow smiling water, Young bashful brides put on. Sure, you are new And his ship ploughing it; and then a Fear: married !
Do that Fear to the life, wench. Ant. Yes, madam, to your grief.
Ant. It will wrong the story. Asp. Alas, poor wenches !
Asp. It will make the story, wronged by wanton Go learn to love first; learn to lose yourselves;
poets, Learn to be flattered, and believe, and bless Live long, and be believed. But where's the lady? The double tongue, that did it. Make a faith Ant. There, madam. Out of the miracles of ancient lovers,
Asp. Fie! you have missed it here, Antipluila ; Such as spake truth, and died in it; and, like me, You are much mistaken, wench: Believe all faithful, and be miserable.
These colours are not dull and pale enough Did you ne'er love yet, wenches? Speak, Olympias: To shew a soul so full of misery
As this sad lady's was. Do it by me;
What, at your ease? Is this a time to sit still? Do it again, by me, the lost Aspatia,
Up, you young lazy rogues, up, or I'll swinge you! And
you shall find all true, but the wild island. Olym. Nay, good my lord. Suppose I stand upon the sea-beach now,
Cal. You'll lie down shortly. Get you in, and Mine arms thus, and mine hair blown with the work! wind,
What, are you grown so resty you want heats? Wild as that desart; and let all about me We shall have some of the court-boys beat you Tell, that I am forsaken. Do my face
shortly. (If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow)
Ant. My lord, we do no more than we are Thus, thus, Antiphila : Strive to make me look
charged. Like sorrow's monument! And the trees about me, It is the lady's pleasure we be thus in grief : Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks She is forsaken. Groan with continual surges; and, behind me,
Cal. There's a rogue too; Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches! A young dissembling slave! Well, get you in! A miserable life of this poor picture!
I'll have a bout with that boy. 'Tis high time Olym. Dear madam!
Now to be valiant: I confess my youth Asp. I have done. Sit down; and let us Was never prone that way. What, made an ass? Upon that point fix all our eyes; that point there. A court-stale? Well, I will be valiant, Make a dull silence, till you feel a sudden sadness And beat some dozen of these whelps; I will! Give us new souls.
And there's another of them, a trim cheating sol
dier; Enter CALIANAX.
I'll maul that rascal; he has out-braved me twice; Cal. The king may do this, and he may not do it: But now, I thank the gods, I am valiant. My child is wronged, disgraced. Well, how now, Go, get you in! I'll take a course with all. [E.reunt.
Enter Cleon, Strato, and Diphilus.
Enter MELANTIUS. Cle. OUI ster is not up yet.
Mel. Good day, Amintor! for, to me, the name Diph. Knock at the door.
Of brother is too distant: We are friends,
And that is nearer.
Let me behold thee. Is it possible?
Mel. What sudden gaze is this? Amin. Who's there? my brother! I'm no readier Amin. 'Tis wondrous strange! yet.
Mel. Why does thine eye desire so strict a Your sister is but now up.
view Diph. You look as you had lost your eyes to- of that, it knows so well? There's nothing here, night:
That is not thine.
Amin. I wonder much, Melantius,
To see those noble looks, that make me think Diph. You have done better, then.
How virtuous thou art: And, on the sudden, Amin.We ventured for a boy: When he is twelve, / 'Tis strange to ine thou shouldst have worth and He shall command against the foes of Rhodes.
honour; Shall we be merry?
Or not be base, and false, and treacherous, Stra. You cannot; you want sleep.
And every ill. ButAmin. 'Tis true. But she,
Mel. Stay, stay, my friend; As if she had drank Lethe, or had made
I fear this sound will not become our loves. Even with Heaven, did fetch so still a sleep, No more; embrace me. So sweet and sound
Amin. Oh, mistake me not: Diph. What's that?
I know thee to be full of all those deeds, Amin. Your sister frets
That we frail men call good; but, by the course This morning; and does turn her eyes upon me, Of nature, thou shouldst be as quickly changed As people on their headsman. She does chafe As are the winds; dissembling as the sea, And kiss, and chafe again, and clap my cheeks: That now wears brows as sinooth as virgins' be, She's in another world.
Tempting the merchant to invade his face,
And in an hour calls his billows up,
To utter my sick thoughts !
[ Aside. If these be the effects,
Mel. But why, my friend, should I be so by na Amin. Yes, sir. ture?
King. Tell me, then; you will trust me, AminAmin. I've wed thy sister, who hath virtuous tor, thoughts
To chuse a wife for you again?
King. Why? like you this so ill?
For this I bow my knee in thanks to you, Diph. What should I be then, by the course of And unto Heaven will pay my grateful tribute nature,
Hourly; and do hope we shall draw out They having both robbed me of so much virtue? | A long contented lífe together here,
Sira. Oh, call the bride, my lord Amintor, And die both, full of grey hairs, in one day: That we may see her blush, and turn her eyes down. For which the thanks are yours. But if the powers, Amin. Evadne!
That rule us, please to call her first away, Evad. [within.) My lord!
Without pride spoke, this world holds not a wife, Amin. Tome forth, my love!
Worthy to take her room. Your brothers do attend to wish you joy.
King. I do not like this. Etud. I am not ready yet.
All forbear the room, but you, Amintor, Amin. Enough, enough.
And your lady. I have some speech with you, Evad. They will mock me.
That may concern your after living well. Amin. Faith, thou shalt come in.
Amin. He will not tell me, that he lies with her? Enter EVADNE.
If he do, something heavenly stay my heart, Mel. Good-morrow, sister! He that understands For I shall be apt to thrust this arm of mine Whom you have wed, need not to wish you joy;
To acts unlawful ! You have enough. Take heed
King. You will suffer me to talk You be not proud.—Amintor!
With her, Amintor, and not have a jealous pang ? Anin. Ha!
Amin. Sir, I dare trust my wife with whom she Mel. Thou art sad.
dares Amin. Who, I? I thank you for that. Shall To talk, and not be jealous. Diphilus, thou, and I, sing a catch?
King. How do
like Mel. How !
Amintor? Amin. Prithee, let us.
Evad. As I did, sir. Mel. Nay, that's too much the other way.
King. How is that? Amin. I am so lightened with my happiness!
Evad. As one that, to fulfil your will and pleaHow dost thou, love? kiss me.
sure, Ered. I cannot love you, you tell tales of me.
I have given leave to call me wife and love. Anin. Nothing but what becomes us. Gentlemen,
King. I see there is no lasting faith in sin; 'Would you had all such wives, and all the world, They, that break word with Heaven, will break That I might be no wonder! You are all sad :
again What, do you envy me? I walk, methinks,
With all the world, and so dost thou with me. On water, and ne'er sink, I am so light.
Evad. How, sir? Mel. Tis well you are so.
King. This subtle woman's ignorance Amnin. Well? How can I be other, when she will not excuse you: thou hast taken oaths, looks thus.
So great, methought, they did not well become Is there no music there ? let's dance.
A woman's mouth, that thou would'st ne'er enjoy Mlel. Why, this is strange, Amintor !
A man but me. Amin. I do not know myself;
Evad. I never did swear so; you do me wrong. Yet I could wish my joy were less.
King. Day and night have heard it. Diph. I'll marry too, if it will make one thus. Evad. I swore, indeed, that I would never love Erad. Amintor, hark.
A man of lower place; but, if your fortune Amin. What says iny love? I must obey.
Should throw you from this height, I bade you trust Erad. You do it scurvily, it will be perceived. I would forsake you, and would bend to him,
throne: I love with Cleo. My lord, the king is here.
Not with my eyes. But, if I ever yet
Touched any other, leprosy light here
Upon my face; which for your royalty Stra. And his brother.
I would not stain ! King. Good morrow, all!
King: Why, thou dissemblest, and it is in me Amintor, joy on joy fall thick upon thee ! To punish thee. And, madam, you are altered since I saw you; Évad. Why, it is in me, then, I must salute you; you are now another's. Not to love you, which will more afflict your body, Amintor, wert thou truly honest, 'till
Than your punishment can mine. Thou wert married?
That won your