_Oli_. Faith, Madam, that's his way of making love.
_Am_. It will not take with me, I love a Man Can kneel, and swear, and cry, and look submiss, As if he meant indeed to die my Slave: Thy Brother looks--but too much like a Conqueror. [_Sighs_.
_Oli_. How, _Aminta_, can you sigh in earnest?
_Am_. Yes, _Olinda_, and you shall know its meaning; I love _Alcander_, and am not asham'd o'th' secret, But prithee do not tell him what I say.
--Oh, he's a man made up of those Perfections, Which I have often lik'd in several men; And wish'd united to compleat some one, Whom I might have the glory to o'ercome.
--His Mein and Person, but 'bove all his Humour, That surly Pride, though even to me addrest, Does strangely well become him.
_Oli_. May I believe this?
_Am_. Not if you mean to speak on't, But I shall soon enough betray my self.
_Enter_ Falatius _with a patch or two on his Face_.
_Falatius_, welcome from the Wars; I'm glad to see y'ave scap'd the dangers of them.
_Fal_. Not so well scap'd neither, Madam, but I Have left still a few testimonies of their Severity to me. [_Points to his face_.
_Oli_. That's not so well, believe me.
_Fal_. Nor so ill, since they be such as render us No less acceptable to your fair Eyes, Madam!
But had you seen me when I gain'd them, Ladies, In that heroick posture.
_Am_. What posture?
_Fal_. In that of fighting, Madam; You would have call'd to mind that antient story Of the stout Giants that wag'd War with Heaven; Just so I fought, and for as glorious prize, Your excellent Ladiship.
_Am_. For me, was it for me you ran this hazard then?
_Fal_. Madam, I hope you do not question that, Was it not all the faults you found with me, The reputation of my want of Courage, A thousand Furies are not like a Battle; And but for you, By _Jove_, I would not fight it o'er again For all the glory on't; and now do you doubt me?
Madam, your heart is strangely fortified That can resist th'efforts I have made against it, And bring to boot such marks of valour too.
_Enter to them_ Alcander, _who seeing them would turn back, but_ Olinda _stays him_.
_Oli_. Brother, come back.
_Fal_. Advance, advance, what, Man, afraid of me?
_Alcan_. How can she hold discourse with that Fantastick. [_Aside_.
_Fal_. Come forward, and be complaisant. [_Pulls him again_.
_Alcan_. That's most proper for your Wit, _Falatius_.
_Am_. Why so angry?
_Alcan_. Away, thou art deceiv'd.
_Am_. You've lost your sleep, which puts you out of humour.
_Alcan_. He's damn'd will lose a moment on't for you.
_Am_. Who is't that has displeas'd you?
_Alcan_. You have, and took my whole repose away, And more than that, which you ne'er can restore; I can do nothing as I did before.
When I would sleep, I cannot do't for you, My Eyes and Fancy do that form pursue; And when I sleep, you revel in my Dreams, And all my Life is nothing but extremes.
When I would tell my love, I seem most rude, For that informs me how I am subdu'd.
Gods, you're unjust to tyrannize o'er me, When thousands fitter for't than I go free.
[_Ex_.
_Fal_. Why, what the Devil has possest _Alcander_?
_Oli_. How like you this, _Aminta_?
_Am_. Better and better, he's a wondrous man.
[_Exeunt_ Am. _and_ Oli.
_Fal_. 'Tis the most unjanty humour that ever I saw; Ay, ay, he is my Rival, No marvel an he look'd so big upon me; He is damnable valiant, and as jealous as He is valiant; how shall I behave my Self to him, and these too idle humours of his I cannot yet determine; the comfort is, He knows I am a Coward whatever face I set upon it.
Well, I must either resolve never to provoke His Jealousy, or be able to rencounter his Other fury, his Valour; that were a good Resolve if I be not past all hope.
[_Ex_.
SCENE III.
_Enter_ Alcippus _and_ Erminia, _as in a Bed-Chamber_.
_Alcip_. But still methinks, _Erminia_, you are sad, A heaviness appears in those fair Eyes, As if your Soul were agitating something Contrary to the pleasure of this night.
_Er_. You ought in Justice, Sir, t'excuse me here, Prisoners when first committed are less gay, Than when they're us'd to Fetters every day, But yet in time they will more easy grow.
_Alcip_. You strangely bless me in but saying so.
_Er. Alcippus_, I've an humble suit to you.
_Alcip_. All that I have is so intirely thine, And such a Captive thou hast made my Will, Thou needst not be at the expence of wishing For what thou canst desire that I may grant; Why are thy Eyes declin'd?
_Er_. To satisfy a little modest scruple; I beg you would permit me, Sir--
_Alcip_. To lie alone to night, is it not so, _Erminia_?
_Er_. It is--
_Alcip_. That's too severe, yet I will grant it thee?