Act 2 — SCENE II. The Court Gallery.

Enter Aminta as passing over the Stage, is stayed by Olinda.

Oli. Why so hasty, Aminta?

Am. The time requires it, Olinda.

Oli. But I have an humble suit to you.

Am. You shall command me any thing.

Oli. Pray Heaven you keep your word.

Am. That sad tone of thine, Olinda, has almost Made me repent of my promise; but come, what is’t?

Oli. My Brother, Madam.

Am. Now fie upon thee, is that all thy business? [Offers to go off.

Oli. Stay, Madam, he dies for you.

Am. He cannot do’t for any Woman living; But well—it seems he speaks of Love to you; To me he does appear a very Statue.

Oli. He nought but sighs and calls upon your name, And vows you are the cruell’st Maid that breathes.

Am. Thou can’st not be in earnest sure.

Oli. I’ll swear I am, and so is he.

Am. Nay, thou hast a hard task on’t, to make Vows to all the Women he makes love to; Indeed I pity thee; ha, ha, ha.

Oli. You should not laugh at those you have undone.

Aminta sings.

Hang Love, for I will never pine For any Man alive; Nor shall this jolly Heart of mine The thoughts of it receive; I will not purchase Slavery At such a dangerous rate; But glory in my Liberty, And laugh at Love and Fate.

Oli. You’ll kill him by this cruelty.

Am. What is’t thou call’st so? For I have hitherto given no denials, Nor has he given me cause; I have seen him wildly gaze upon me often, And sometimes blush and smile, but seldom that; And now and then found fault with my replies, And wonder’d where the Devil lay that wit, Which he believ’d no Judge of it could find.

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.