_Fal_. Your pardon, sweet _Alcander_, I protest I am Not in so gay an humour.
_Alcan_. Farewell, I had forgot my self.
[_Exit_.
_Fal_. Stark mad, by _Jove_--yet it may be not, for _Alcander_ has many unaccountable humours.
Well, if this be agreeable to _Aminta_, she's e'en as mad As he, and 'twere great pity to part them.
_Enter_ Pisaro, Aminta, _and_ Olinda.
_Am_. Well, have you kill'd him?
_Fal_. Some wiser than some, Madam.
--My Lord--what, alive?-- [_Sees_ Pisaro, _runs to him, and embraces him_.
_Pis_. Worth two dead men, you see.
_Fal_. That's more than I could have said within This half hour. _Alcander's_ very _Orlando_, by _Jove_, and gone To seek out one that's madder yet than himself That will kill him.
_Am_. Oh, dear _Falatius_, run and fetch him back.
_Fal_. Madam, I have so lately 'scap'd a scouring, That I wish you would take it for a mark Of my Passion to disobey you; For he is in a damn'd humour.
_Am_. He's out of it by this, I warrant you; But do not tell him that _Pisaro_ lives.
_Fal_. That's as I shall find occasion.
[_Exit_ Fal.
_Pis. Alcander_ is a worthy Youth and brave, I wish you would esteem him so; 'Tis true, there's now some difference between us, Our Interests are dispos'd to several ways, But Time and Management will join us all: I'll leave you; but prithee make it thy business To get my Pardon for last night's rudeness.
_Am_. I shall not fail.
[_Exit_ Pis.
_Re-enter_ Falatius, _with_ Alcander _melancholy_.
_Fal_. Here, Madam, here he is.
_Am_. Tell me, _Alcander_, why you treat me thus?
You say you love me, if I could believe you.
_Alcan_. Believe a Man! away, you have no wit, I'll say as much to every pretty Woman.
_Am_. But I have given you no cause to wrong me.
_Alcan_. That was my Fate, not Fault, I knew him not: But yet to make up my offence to you, I offer you my life; for I'm undone, If any faults of mine should make you sad.
_Am_. Here, take your Sword again, my Brother's well.
[_She gives him his Sword again_.
_Fal_. Yes, by _Jove_, as I am: you had been finely serv'd, If I had kill'd you now.
_Am_. What, sorry for the news? ha, ha, ha.
_Alcan_. No, sorry y'are a Woman, a mere Woman.
_Am_. Why, did you ever take me for a Man? ha, ha.
_Alcan_. Thy Soul, I thought, was all so; but I see You have your weakness, can dissemble too; --I would have sworn that Sorrow in your face Had been a real one: Nay, you can die in jest, you can, false Woman: I hate thy Sex for this.
_Fal_. By Jove, there is no truth in them, that's flat.
[_She looks sad_.
_Alcan_. Why that repentant look? what new design?
Come, now a tear or two to second that, And I am soft again, a very Ass.
--But yet that Look would call a Saint from th'Altar, And make him quite forget his Ceremony, Or take thee for his Deity: --But yet thou hast a very Hell within, Which those bewitching Eyes draw Souls into.
_Fal_. Here's he that fits you, Ladies.
_Am_. Nay, now y'are too unjust, and I will leave you.
_Alcan_. Ah, do not go, I know not by what Magick, [_Holds her_.
But as you move, my Soul yields that way too.
_Fal_. The truth on't is, she has a strong magnetick Power, that I find.
_Alcan_. But I would have none find it but my self, No Soul but mine shall sympathize with hers.
_Fal_. Nay, that you cannot help.
_Alcan_. Yes, but I can, and take it from thee, if I thought it did so.
_Oli_. No quarrels here, I pray.
_Fal_. Madam, I owe a Reverence to the Place.
_Alcan_. I'll scarce allow thee that; Madam, I'll leave you to your Lover.
_Am_. I hate thee but for saying so.
_Alcan_. Quit him then.
_Am_. So I can and thee too. [_Offers to go out_.
_Alcan_. The Devil take me if you escape me so. [_Goes after her_.
_Fal_. And I'll not be out-done in importunity.
[_Goes after_.