_Guil._ Pray let me begin and practise a little now, An't please you, for fear I should not be saucy enough, When we arrive at Court.
_Clo._ I'll warrant you you'll soon learn there.
_Guil._ Oh Lord, _Philibert!_ _Philibert!_ I see a Man a coming Most deadly fine, let's run away.
_Clo._ Thus thou hast serv'd me all this night, There's not a Bush we come at, but thou start'st thus.
_Guil._ 'Tis true you are a Lover, and may stay the danger on't; But I'll make sure for one.
_Clo._ It is the Prince, oh Gods! what makes he here?
With Looks disorder'd too; this Place is fit for Death and sad Despair; the melancholy Spring a sleepy murmur makes, A proper Consort for departing Souls, When mix'd with dying Groans, and the thick Boughs Compose a dismal Roof; Dark as the gloomy Shades of Death or Graves.
--He comes this way, I'll hide my self awhile. [Goes behind a Bush.
Enter _Frederick_.
_Fred._ But yet not this, nor my despight to _Laura_, Shall make me out of love with Life, Whilst I have youthful Fires about my Heart: --Yet I must fight with _Curtius_, And so chastise the Pride of that fond Maid, Whose saucy Virtue durst controul my Flame.
--And yet I love her not as I do _Cloris_; But fain I would have overcome that Chastity, Of which the foolish Beauty boasts so.
_Clo._ _Curtius_, I thank thee, now I do believe thee.
_Guilliam_, if thou seest any fighting anon, [The Prince walks.
Be sure you run out and call some body.
_Guil._ You need not bid me run away, when I once See them go to that.
Enter _Curtius_.
_Cur._ Sir, I am come as you commanded me.
_Fred._ When you consider what you've lately done, You will not wonder why I sent for you; And when I mean to fight, I do not use to parly: Come draw.
_Cur._ Shew me my Enemy, and then if I am slow--
_Fred._ I am he, needst thou one more powerful?
_Cur._ You, Sir! what have I done to make you so?
_Fred._ If yet thou want'st a further proof of it, Know I'll dispute my Claim to _Laura_.
_Cur._ That must not be with me, Sir; God forbid that I should raise my Arm against my Prince.
--If _Laura_ have so little Faith and Virtue, To render up that Right belongs to me, With all my heart I yield her To any but to you: And, Sir, for your own sake you must not have her.
_Fred._ Your Reason?
_Cur._ Sir, you're already married.
_Fred._ Thou lyest, and seek'st excuses for thy Cowardice.
_Cur._ I wish you would recal that hasty Injury; Yet this I'll bear from you, who know 'tis false.
_Fred._ Will nothing move thee?
_Cur._ You would believe so, Sir, if I should tell you, That besides all this, I have a juster Cause.
_Fred._ Juster than that of _Laura_? call it up, then, And let it save thee from a further shame.
_Cur._ Yes, so I will, 'tis that of _Cloris_, Who needs my aids much more; Do you remember such a Virgin, Sir?
For so she was till she knew _Frederick_, The sweetest Innocent that ever Nature made.
_Fred._ Not thy own Honour, nor thy Love to _Laura_, Would make thee draw, and now at _Cloris'_ Name Thou art incens'd, thy Eyes all red with Rage: --Oh, thou hast rouz'd my Soul!
Nor would I justify my Wrongs to her, Unless it were to satisfy my Jealousy, Which thou hast rais'd in me by this concern.
--Draw, or I'll kill thee.
_Cur._ Stay, Sir, and hear me out.
_Fred._ I will not stay, now I reflect on all Thy former kindness to her--
_Cur._ I will not fight, but I'll defend my self. [They fight.
_Fred._ We are betray'd.
_Cur._ Yes, Sir, and you are wounded.
[_Guil._ runs bawling out, they are both wounded.
_Clo._ Oh Heaven defend the Prince! [She peeps.
_Fred._ I hear some coming, go, be gone, And save thy self by flight.
[_Frederick_ stands leaning on his Sword.
_Cur._ Sir, give me leave to stay, my flight will look like Guilt.
_Fred._ By no means, _Curtius_, thou wilt be taken here, And thou shalt never charge me with that Crime of betraying Thee: when we meet next, we'll end it.
_Cur._ I must obey you then. [Exit.
Enter _Cloris_.
_Clo._ Sir, has the Villain hurt you? [She supports him.
--Pray Heaven my Sorrows do not betray me now; For since he's false, I fain would die conceal'd. [Aside.
--Shew me your Wound, and I will tie it up.
Alas, you bleed extremely.--
_Fred._ Kind Youth, thy Succours are in vain, though welcome; For though I bleed, I am not wounded much.
_Clo._ No? why did you let him pass unpunish'd then, Who would have hurt you more?
Enter _Guilliam_ with _Galliard_.
_Gal._ Where was't?