_Qu_. Ah, _Cleomena_! you value my Repose at too cheap a Rate, When you expose a Life so dear to me To so much Danger, as to fight _Thersander_.
_Cleo_. I am not the first Person of my Sex Has drawn a Sword upon an Enemy; Do you not say he is my Father's Murderer?
And does he not deprive me of that Crown, You say the Gods have destin'd me to wear?
_Qu_. 'Tis true, he's Son to him that kill'd thy Father; But bating that, he has committed nothing But what wou'd rather cause esteem than hate.
_Cleo_. Pardon me, Madam, if I am forc'd to say, My Sentiments cannot correspond with yours.
_Qu_. What think you of a Husband in this Prince?
_Cleo_. How, Madam, marry _Thersander_!
_Qu_. The King has generously offered it; My Council do approve it, and the Army Cannot contain their Joy for the blest News.
_Cleo_. Gods! let the Council and the Army perish, E'er I lose one single Moment of my Satisfaction; Is this the Hate which with my Milk you made me suck For all that Race? is this th' Effect of my fierce Education?
_Qu_. All things must be preferr'd to th' Publick Good, When join'd with my Commands.
_Cleo_. What you command, I dare not disobey: But, Madam, I beseech you do not claim That cruel Duty here.
_Qu_. You'll find it fit to change that peevish Humour, And I will leave you to consider of it.
[_Exit_.
_Cleo_. Gods! marry me, marry me to _Thersander_!
No, not whilst this--remains in my Possession; [_Pulls out a dagger_.
--I must confess it is a generous Offer; How came it in their Souls?
_Sem_. Madam, perhaps Love has inspir'd it.
_Cleo_. Hah, Love--that Miracle may be; When I reflect upon the Prince's words, When he had vanquish'd me--I do not doubt it; Then he confess'd he had a Passion for me; I wonder at the sudden Birth of it--
_Sem_. Madam, your Eyes make Captives at first sight.
_Cleo_. Oh my dear Eyes, how shall I love ye now, For wounding more than my dull Sword could do?
'Twas Anger and Revenge that gave ye Charms, Only to help the weakness of my Arms; And when my Woman's Courage feeble grew, My Heart did kindly send its Aids to you.
And thou, _Thersander_, surely canst not blame My Cruelty, who do allow thy Flame: Love on, love on; and if thou dost despise All other ways, I'll kill thee with my Eyes.
_She sits down, and writes_. _Enter_ a Page.
_Page_. Madam, there is without an Officer Who bad me tell your Highness that he waits.
_Cleo_. Admit him--and, Page, give you this Letter to the Queen.
_Sem_. Madam, it is _Vallentio_ whom you sent for.
_Enter_ Vallentio.
_Cleo_. _Vallentio_, I believe thee brave and honest.
_Val_. Madam, the last I dare affirm.
_Cleo_. Tell me, _Vallentio_, didst thou ever love?
_Val_. Madam, your Interest, my Arms, and a brave Enemy.
_Cleo_. But didst thou never feel a softer Passion?
_Val_. Madam, I own, though with a Blush I do so, I've felt the Power of two fair Eyes; And I have Wounds that yet would bleed afresh, Should but the cruel Murderess appear.
_Cleo_. Then thou art fit to hear a Secret from me; --But first, _Vallentio_ tell me who I am.
_Val_. My Princess, Madam, and my General; And one, who from your Power of Beauty holds No less Dominion o'er th' adoring World, Than from the Greatness you were born to.
_Cleo_. And you're contented I should be your Queen?
_Val_. Madam, I am--_Pimante_ has been prating. [_Aside_.
_Cleo_. The Army too are of your mind.
_Val_. I cannot answer for the Army, Madam.
_Cleo_. But--what think you of _Orsames_?
_Val_. Madam, I think he merits to be King In any other World but where you reign.
_Cleo_. And what if I would have him King of this?
_Val_. Why then he shall be King, if you would have it so.
_Cleo_. Yes, I would have it, by my self I would; This is the time to let the Monarch know The Glories he was born to; Nor can I die in Peace till he be crown'd. [_Aside_.
I'll have this Nation happy in a Prince, A Prince they long in silence have bemoan'd, Which every slight occasion breaks out loud, And soon will raise them up to a Rebellion, The common People's God on Holy-days.
--And this, _Vallentio_, I have often observ'd; And 'tis an Act too humble for my Soul, To court my self into security.
_Sem_. Madam, the Gods do disapprove his Reign, Which they not only say shall be but short, But Bloody and Tyrannick.
_Cleo_. I will expound that Oracle, Which Priests unridling make more intricate: They said that he should reign, and so he did, Which lasted not above a pair of Hours.
But I my self will be his Oracle now, And speak his kinder Fate, And I will have no other Priest but thee, [_To_ Vallentio.
Who shall unfold the Mystery in plain terms.
_Val_. Madam, the City and the Army are, by this Defeat, Enough inclin'd to hear that Reason.
_Cleo_. _Geron_ already has Instructions what to do, And you need none, wanting no Resolution.
_Val_. If I miscarry, Madam, I'll be condemn'd, Never to look my Foe i'th' Face again.
_Cleo_. Haste, and be prosperous--
[_Exit_. Val.