The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. II by Aphra Behn
A >>
Aphra Behn >> The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. II
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 | 9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30
_Amin_. But yet the generous Bounty of the Princess
Obliges here, no less than Duty there;
I know not how the Gods of War to move
To grant me Victor, or the vanquish'd prove;
My Heart to either is not well inclin'd,
Since--vanquish'd I am lost, conquering unkind.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE III. _A Grove_.
_Enter_ Thersander, Lysander.
_Ther_. Urge it no more, _Lysander_,'tis in vain,
My Liberty past all retrieve is lost;
But they're such glorious Fetters that confine me,
I wou'd not quit them to preserve that Life
Thou justly say'st I hazard by my Love.
_Lys_. The _Scythian_ Gods defend it!
_Ther_. The Gods inspire it, 'tis their Work alone;
--I know she is my Enemy, hates _Thersander_,
Has sent for all the neighbouring Kings for aid,
That hither Artabases and Ismenes
Have brought their Powers t' assist against my Crown.
But what of this? She loves me as _Clemanthis_,
Which will surmount her Hatred to the _Scythians_.
Oh, my _Lysander_! didst thou know her Charms,
Thou'dst also know 'tis not a mortal Force
That can secure the Heart: She's all divine!
All Beauty, Wit, and Softness! and she loves!
Already I have found the grateful Secret;
She scorns the little Customs of her Sex,
And her belief of being so much above me,
Permits her to encourage my Design;
She gives a Boldness to my bashful Flame,
And entertains me with much Liberty.
_Lys_. Were all this true, you're equally unhappy;
She must be only his that conquers you,
That wins your Crown, and lays it at her Feet.
_Ther_. Love ne'er considers the Event of things,
The Path before me's fair, and I'll pursue it;
Fearing no other Forces than her Eyes,
Bright as the Planets under which they're born.
_Lys_. And will you let her know you are in love?
_Ther_. If all my Sighs, if Eyes still fix'd on hers
With Languishment and Passion, will inform her,
I'll let her know my Flame, or perish in th' Attempt.
_Lys_. Dare you declare it as you now appear?
And can you hope, that under the Degree
Of what indeed you are, she will permit it?
And your Discovery is your certain ruin.
_Ther_. Thy Counsel, dear _Lysander_, comes too late,
She's in the Grove, where now I must attend her,
And see where she approaches--
_Enter_ Cleomena, Semiris.
_Cleo_. The Stranger, say you, grown of late so pensive!
--I must enquire the Cause--what if it shou'd be Love?
And that too not for me! hah, my _Semiris_!
That Thought has given me Pains I never felt;
--Gods! why comes he not? I grow impatient now;
--Say, didst thou bid him wait me in the Grove?
_Sem_. Madam, I spoke to him my self--
_Cleo_. And told him I wou'd speak with him?
_Sem_. As you commanded me, I said.
_Cleo_. It seems he values my Commands but little,
Who is so slow in his Obedience:
--Where found you him?
_Sem_. I'th' Antick Gallery, Madam.
_Cleo_. Gallery! what did he there? tell me exactly,
--I have no Picture there.
_Sem_. Madam, he was viewing that of _Olympia_, your fair Cousin,
But for the Excellency of the Work, not Beauty.
_Cleo_. Thou art deceiv'd; viewing her Picture, say you?
--Oh, thou hast touch'd a tender part, _Semiris_;
--But yonder's he that can allay my Rage [_Sees_ Thersander.
And calm me in that Love by every Look.
--_Clemanthis_, you absent your self too much
From those to whom your Presence is agreeable;
I hear that you are grown retir'd of late,
And visit shady Groves, walk thus--and sigh,
Like melancholy Lovers. Has the Court
(Who for your Entertainment has put on
More Gaiety than in an Age before)
Nothing that can divert you? Cease your Ceremony;
[_He bows low_.
I am your Friend, and if ought harbour there
Within that sullen Breast, impart it here--
And I'll contribute any thing to ease you.
--Come--boldly tell thy Griefs;
I have an Interest in thy noble Life.
--Perhaps, since you're arriv'd at Court, you've seen
Some Beauty that has made a Conquest o'er your Heart;
--Whoe'er she be, you cannot fear Success.
_Ther_. The Honours you have heap'd upon your Slave,
Have been sufficient
To have encourag'd any bold Attempt;
And here are Beauties would transform a God,
Much more a Soldier, into an amorous Shape.
--But, I confess, with shame, I brought no Heart
Along with me to Court, and after that
What acceptable Sacrifice can I offer?
This makes me shun the Pleasures of your Court,
And seek Retirements silent as my Griefs.
_Cleo_, It seems you were a Lover e'er I saw you,
And Absence from your Mistress makes you languish.
_Ther_. Ah, Madam, do not ask me many Questions,
Lest I offend where I should merit Pity;
The Boldness may arrive unto her Knowledge,
And then you'll lose the humblest of your Creatures,
Whilst as I am, I may among the Croud
Of daily Worshippers, pay my Devotions.
_Cleo_. Give me your Hand, we'll walk a little.
[_They go and sit dawn on a Bank_.
--How do you like this Grove?
_Ther_. As I do every place you're pleas'd to bless.
Heaven were not Heaven, were Gods not present there;
And where you are, 'tis Heaven every where.
_Cleo_. Look, Clemanthis--on yonder tuft of Trees,
Near which there is a little murmuring Spring,
From whence a Rivulet does take its rise,
And branches forth in Channels through the Garden;
--'Twas near a place like that--where first I saw _Clemanthis_.
[_Sighing_.
_Ther_. Madam, be pleas'd to add, 'twas also there
_Clemanthis_ left his Liberty at the Feet
Of Divine _Cleomena_;
And charg'd himself with those too glorious Chains,
Never to be dismist but with his Life.
[_She rising in anger, he kneels_.
_Cleo_. How, _Clemanthis_!
_Ther_. Ah! Madam, if I too presumptuous grow,
From your Commands, and all your Bounties to me,
You should forgive the Pride you do create,
And all its strange Effects;
Which if I have mistaken, let me die.
Only this Mercy grant me, to believe,
That if our Adorations please the Gods,
Mine cannot be offensive to my Princess,
Since they are equally Religious.
_Cleo_. Stranger--before I punish thy Presumption,
Inform me who it is that has offended?
Who giving me no other knowledge of him,
Than what his sword has done--dares raise his Eyes to me?
_Ther_. Madam, what you demand is just,
And I had rather die than disobey you;
But I am constrain'd by a Necessity
(Which when you know, you certainly will pardon)
For some time to conceal my Birth and Name.
_Cleo_. Till then you should have kept your Flame conceal'd,
'T had been less disobliging from a criminal one,
Whose Quality had justify'd his Boldness.
_Ther_. Ah! Madam, wou'd Heaven and you wou'd find
no other Difficulty
Than want of Quality to merit you!
_Cleo_. I must confess, _Clemanthis_, with a Blush,
That nothing of the rest displeases me.
_Ther_. Ah, Madam, how you bless me!
And now with Confidence I dare assure you,
That which should render me more worthy of you,
Shall be in me found more to your Advantage,
Than in those Princes who have taken on 'em
The Glory of your Service.
_Cleo_. As I am very reasonable, and do act
With more Sincerity than Artifice,
I'll now desire no more.
But have a care you use my Bounty well;
For I am now grown kind enough to think
That all you say is true.
_Ther_. Madam, banish me your Presence, as the Man
Of all the World unworthy to adore you,
If I present not to you in _Clemanthis_
A Man enough considerable to hope.
_Cleo_. But oh! Clemanthis, I forgot my Fate,
My Destiny depends upon my People;
Urg'd by the Queen, they've made a Resolution
To give me to that Prince who does most powerfully
Advance the Ruin of the King of _Scythia_.
_Ther_. Madam, I am not ignorant of the Conditions
That are impos'd on those who pretend to you;
I will not only serve you in this War
With more Success than any,
But set the Crown of _Scythia_ on your Head.
_Cleo_. That's bravely said.
_Ther_. Perhaps it seems extravagantly spoken,
In the Condition you behold me now;
But here I vow--I never will demand
[_Kneels_.
The Divine _Cleomena_ till I have crown'd her--
Yes, Madam, till I have crown'd her Queen of _Scythia_.
--Till then--give me but hope--enough, to live--
[Rises.
_Cleo_. That's to your Passion due; and when I know
Who 'tis I favour--I will more allow.
_Sem_. Madam, the Queen is here.
_Enter_ Queen, Honorius, Artabazes, Ismenes, _Guards,
Attendants, &c_.
_Queen_. I am glad to see you all in Readiness;
To morrow I intend to be i'th' Camp,
--And _Cleomena_ is your General;
Since 'tis her Cause we fight, it is but just
She share the Danger of it with the Glory.
_Arta_. We all approve it, Madam, and are proud
Fair _Cleomena_ shall a Witness be
Of what we do to serve her,
And see the easy Conquest we shall make
Upon the Persons of her Enemies.
_Hon_. I know not, Sir, what you may do,
But we have found it not so easy.
_Arta_. Oh, there's no doubt, but we'll depopulate _Scythia_,
And lead its King, with the vain Prince his Son,
Loaden with Irons, to adorn your Triumphs.
_Ther_. Madam, I must confess your Force is great,
And the Assistance of these Men considerable;
Yet I advise your Majesty to prepare
For the Defeat of the great King of _Scythia_,
As to a Business much more difficult
Than they present it to you: for I know
The Forces of that Nation are not less.
[_Looks with scorn on them_.
--Consider too, that King was never conquer'd,
Though these believe to do't with so much ease.
I oft have seen _Thersander_, that young Prince,
Upon whose Sword Fortune her self depends,
--And I can tell--he's not so easily chain'd,
As, _Artabazes_, you imagine him.
_Arta_. What, do you think to fright us with the Praises
You give our Enemies?
--I have heard of that King, and of _Thersander_ too;
But never heard of so much Terror in 'em,
Should make us apprehend an ill Success;
--And you, _Clemanthis_, do not know us well,
To think we'll tremble for the Prince of _Scythia_,
Though many such as you should take his part.
_Ther_. How, many such as I!
[_Gomes up to his Breast_.
Gods! with your selves no other Enemies
To join with that young Prince;
To conquer him and many such as I,
Requires a Number of such Kings as you.
_Ism_. It is too much, _Clemanthis_; were you well
Affected to the Service of the Queen,
You would not thus commend her Enemies.
_Ther_. Madam, I humbly beg your Pardon,
I have fail'd in the Respect I owe you,
By what I've said in favour of your Enemies,
Whom, whilst you think so easily o'ercome,
You will neglect that Power should make you Victor.
_Qu_. 'Tis Virtue, Sir, that makes you give what's due,
Though to the Advantage of those Men you hate--
--I must not have you take ought ill from him. [_To the_ King.
But as you've all unanimously join'd
To assist us in this War, so all embrace,
[Ther. _salutes 'em coldly_.
Be one and ever Friends.
Brother, I leave the Conduct of this hopeful Army [_To_ Hon.
To your unquestion'd Care; and if you can,
Oblige this noble Stranger for ever in our Service.
_Cleo_. Uncle, I'll to the Camp with you;
And you, _Clemanthis_, must be near me still.
[Ther. _bows. All go out but_ Ther. Hon. Lysan.
_Hon. Clemanthis_, you are troubled.
_Ther_. I was a little ruffled, but 'tis gone.
_Hon_. You shou'd not blame them, Sir, for envying you,
A Man so young, and such a Name in War.
_Ther_. That, Sir, is only your Esteem of it.
_Hon_. No, dear _Clemanthis_, that I may declare
To all the World and thee, how much I prize it,
Without consulting of your Quality,
I'll make you absolute Master of my Fortune.
_Ther_. Heav'ns! whence this Generosity? [_Aside_.
_Hon_. I have a Daughter, Sir, an only Child,
Whom all the World esteems a virtuous one,
And for whose Love Princes have su'd in vain,
I now with Joy will render you in Marriage.
_Ther_. I am undone! [_Aside_.
It is a Princess, Sir, I must admire,
But never durst behold her with Eyes of Love,
A Maid so much above me.
_Hon_. I am a Man, whose martial Disposition
Renders me too unartful in my Language;
I cannot study Fineness in my Words,
But with Sincerity declare my Heart,
And do propose this Marriage with _Olympia_,
For your Advantage and the publick Interest,
Besides my own Content.
_Ther_. Have you consider'd, Sir, I am below her?
_Hon_. No more of that; go visit my _Olympia_,
She is prepared to give you Entertainment.
[_Ex_. Hon.
_Ther_. Marry _Olympia_!
No, cou'd he with Olympia give the World,
I could not love, nor marry her.
--Oh, my Lysander! what evasion now?
--Didst hear the noble Offer of the General?
_Lys_. I did, great Sir, and what will you return?
_Ther_. If I refuse, I must offend the Man
To whom of all the World I am most oblig'd,
And one who knowing me but by my Services,
Offers me what _Thersander_ might accept.
_Lys_. It's fit you should consult the Princess, Sir,
What 'tis you ought to do.
_Ther_. I'll take thy Counsel--and wait upon _Olympia_:
--Yes, I will go visit her, though but to prove
No Torment can be like dissembled Love.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE IV. _A Chamber_.
_Enter Queen, Cleomena, Honorius.
_Qu_. Is't possible, my Brother, you can have
So great a Passion for the publick good,
As willingly to sacrifice your Child to its Repose,
And make her Arms the soft and easy Chains
To link this gallant Stranger to our Interest?
_Hon_. His Virtue I prefer above a Crown.
_Cleo_. You shou'd love Virtue as you ought to love it;
Not give it over-measure--But are you sure he will accept it?
_Hon_. I am not certain, being not come so far;
But I propos'd it, and no doubt he lik'd it.
_Cleo_. This cannot be his Malice; for he was ever noble,
[Hon. _talks to the_ Queen.
But false or feign'd, I can endure no more on't:
--By Heaven, this Stranger's false! false as his Name!
--_Semiris_ found him gazing on her Picture:
--'Tis so--he loves _Olympia_!
And when I ask the Name of her he lov'd,
I urg'd it with such softness in my Eyes,
That he in Pity of me swore 'twas I:
--Now can I find how much my Soul's possest
With Love, since 'tis with Jealousy opprest.
[_Goes out_.
_Qu_. How do you like the Trial of _Orsames_,
Which I intend to make?
_Hon_. You'll oblige your People, and do a Mother's Duty.
_Qu_. You know 'twas not the Tyrant in my Nature,
That from his Infancy has kept him ignorant
Of what he was--but the Decrees of Heaven.
_Hon_. Madam, 'tis true; and if the Gods be just,
He must be King too, though his Reign be short:
You cannot alter those Decrees of Heaven.
_Qu_. The Gods are Witness how these eighteen Years
I have with much Regret conceal'd his Birth.
_Hon_. You know the last Defeat the _Scythians_ gave us,
Th' impatient People broke the Castle-gates,
And against all your Powers were ready to have crown'd him;
And shou'd we now be conquer'd, nothing less
Will still the mutinous Army: try him, Madam,
He may be fit for great Impressions,
Had he but good Examples to dispose him.
_Qu_. I'll have it done to night.
Heaven, if it be thy Will, inspire my Son
With Virtue fit to wear his Father's Crown.
[_Exeunt_.
_Scene draws off, discovers_ Thersander _seemingly courting_
Olympia. _Enter_ Cleomena; _sees them, starts, gazes
on them, then goes out unseen. The Scene closes and
changes to her Apartment.--She enters in a Rage_--
_Cleo_. Perfidious Man! am I abandon'd then? [_Rage_.
Abandon'd for _Olympia_! my Slave--
And yet I lov'd him more than I did Heaven-- [_Soft_.
And shall he quit me thus?
Without being punish'd for this Infidelity?
--No, let me be a shame to all my Sex then
--Oh, _Clemanthis_! to whom I fondly gave my Liberty,
When first I saw thee sleeping in the Wood.
--But I grow soft, a Passion too unfit
For so much Anger as my Soul's possess'd with;
'Twas but even now he lov'd me with such Ardor,
And he who promis'd me the Crown of _Scythia_,
Dar'st thou become unjust, ungrateful Stranger!
Who having rais'd thy Eyes to _Cleomena_,
Would sacrifice her to another Mistress?
--This Heart, which ought not to've been given away,
But by the Services and Blood of Kings,
How hast thou lost it on a false Unknown,
Without being paid for it one single Sigh!--
_Enter_ Thersander; _she draws a Dagger; offers to kill
him, but cannot_.
Traitor--hast thou the impudence to appear before me,
Or dost thou come to meet thy just Reward?
[_Offers to stab him_.
--There's something in his Looks that does preserve him,
Or I'm not truly brave, and dare not kill him.
--Go, treacherous Unknown, whom I've preferr'd
Before so many Princes, who in vain
Sue for this credulous Heart which thou'st betray'd.
_Ther_. Ah! Madam, can you be thus cruel to me,
And not inform me how I have offended?
_Cleo_. Be gone, I say, if thou would'st save a Life,
Which those that dare do evil fear to lose.
_Ther_. Those Eyes thus order'd are far worse than Death.
End what you have so well begun,
And kill me;
Yet from another's Hand
The Blow would he less cruel.
_Cleo_. Oh, Impudence!
Still he wou'd cheat my Rage, as he has abus'd my Love;
But, Monster, though thou art below my Hand,
I'm yet a Princess, and I can command.
By Heaven, I'll try how much Rage can invent.
_Semiris_, call _Qlympia_ to me strait;
She shall in Triumph with me stand and smile,
To see thee by some Vassal bleed.
_Ther_. There needs no other witness of my Death.
But her I have offended;
To you alone I offer up my Life: for dying,
I've something to relate may justify your Rage,
Though not deserve your Pity.
_Cleo_. Hell!
Now I'm confirm'd, he fears that she should see
Him die, lest it should cost her but a Tear;
--Why should I want the Strength?
--But Oh, I cannot.
[_Offers to present the Dagger_.
But canst thou live, false Man, and see me frown?
_Ther_. No, Madam, I can die--thus--
[_Offers to fall on his Sword_.
_Cleo_. Stay--
Thou shalt not so much Glory gain:
No, live, and prove wretched enough to know
How very poorly thou hast lost my Heart.
[_Ex. raving_.
[Ther. _gazes after her_.
_Ther_. Must I then live?--I will obey--farewel,
The fairest and unkindest of thy Sex;
If e'er it be thy chance to meet with one
That loves more than _Thersander_, if thou canst
Treat him worse than thou hast done me--
For oh! how miserable is the Wretch, whose Prayer
Repuls'd, like me, lives only to despair.
[_Exit_.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
_The Curtain is let down--being drawn up, discovers_ Orsames
_seated on a Throne asleep, drest in Royal Robes, the Crown
and Sctpter lying by on a Table_. Geron _near the Throne.
On either side of the Stage, Courtiers ready drest, and multitude
of Lights. Above is discovered the_ Queen, Olympia,
_and Women_, Pimante, Artabazes, Ismenes; _Soft Musick
plays;--whilst he wakes by degrees, and gazes round
about him, and on himself with Wonder_.
_Ors_.--Gods! what am I?
--Or, is there any other God but I?
_Ger_. Yes, my great Lord;
But you're a King, a mighty Monarch, Sir.
_Ors_. I understand thee, 'tis some God thou mean'st.
_Ger_. On Earth it is: your Power too is as great;
Your Frowns destroy, and when you smile you bless;
At every Nod the whole Creation bows,
And lay their grateful Tributes at your Feet;
Their Lives are yours, and when you deign to take 'em,
There's not a Mortal dares defend himself:
But that you may the more resemble Heaven,
You should be merciful and bountiful.
_Ors_. I do believe I am the King thou speak'st of.
_Ger_. Behold this Crown--this sacred Thing is yours.
[_Kneels and gives him the Scepter and Crown; he puts
it on, and walks about_.
_Ors_. It is a glorious Object--
And fit for none but me--
_Olymp_. Madam, methinks the King is the finest Man
That e'er I saw--shall he not still be King?
_Qu_. I hope he will deserve it.
_Ors_. So, now methinks I move like Heaven itself,
All circled round with Stars,
--Hah! what's this that kneels?
[_The_ Queen _kneels, he snatches her up_.
_Ger_. The Queen your Mother, Sir.--
_Ors_. By my great self it is another Woman,
Which I have burnt with a desire of seeing.
--Be gone, and leave us here alone together;
I've something to impart to this fair Thing,
Must not be understood by you.
_Qu_. Why, Sir, what is it you can impart to me,
Which those about you must not understand?
_Ors_. A new Philosophy inspir'd by Nature,
And much above whatever Geron taught.
--Come and augment my Knowledge.
_Qu_. Why me, Sir, more than any one about you?
_Ors_. Thou art all soft and sweet like springing Flowers,
And gentle as the undisturbed Air.
_Qu_. But I am your Mother.
_Ors_. No matter; thou'rt a Woman, art thou not?
And being so, the Mother cannot awe me.
_Ger_. Sir, 'tis the Person gave you Life and Being.
_Ors_. That gave me Life! oh, how I love thee for't!
Come--and I'll pay thee back such kind Returns--
_Ger_. Most Royal Sir, this Woman was
Not made by Heaven--for you.
_Ors_. Away with your Philosophy; but now you said--
I was a King, a mighty God on Earth,
And by that Power I may do any thing.
_Ger_. But Kings are just as well as powerful, Sir.
_Ors_. I am so to my self, do not oppose me.
_Ger_. Sir, this one is not meant, not form'd for you.
_Ors_. Am I a God, and can be disobey'd?
Remove that Contradiction from my sight,
And let him live no longer: ha, more Women!
[Exit Geron.
_Enter_ Olympia _and other Women_.
Oh Nature, how thou'st furnish'd me with Store!
And finer far than this--
[_Gazes on_ Olympia.
--But what is that whose Eyes give Laws to all,
And like the Sun, eclipse the lesser Lights?
_Qu_. Speak to him, _Olympia_.
_Ors_. Who tells me what she is?
_Olym_. Oh, how I tremble!--Sir, I am a Maid.
_Ors_. A Maid! and may you be approacht with Knees and Prayers
[_Kneels_.
_Olym_. I am your Slave, you must not kneel to me--
Takes him up.
_Ors_. How soon my Glory's vanisht!
Till now I did believe I was some God,
And had my Power and my Divinity
Within my Will; but by this awful Fear,
I find thou art the greater Deity:
--Pray tell me, fairest, are you not a Woman?
_Olym_. I am a Woman, and a Virgin, Sir.
_Ors_. I did believe that thou wert something more,
For I have seen a Woman, and ne'er knew
So much Disorder in my Soul before:
--For every Look of thine gives me a Pain,
And draws my Heart out of its wonted Seat.
_Olym_. Alas, Sir, have I hurt you?
_Ors_. Extremely hurt me, thou hast a secret Power,
And canst at distance wound,
Which none but Heaven and you cou'd ever do.
--But 'twas my Fault; had I not gaz'd on thee,
I had been still a King, and full of Health.
--Here--receive this Crown, 'tis now unfit for me,
Since thou hast greater Power--whilst it sits here--
[_He takes off his Crown, and puts it on her_.
It looks like Stars fall'n from their proper Sphere:
--So, now they're fixt again.
_Qu. Pimante_, speak to him to take it back.
_Pim_. He kills me with his Looks.
--Sir, when you part with this, you'll be despis'd;
Your Glory, and your Thunder, all will vanish.
_Ors_. I yet have something that shall make thee fear,
I'm still a King, though I must bow to her;
Take him away to Death immediately--
_Pim_. Any where to be out of your Sight--
A King, quotha? [_Exit_.
_Ors_. Come, my fair Virgin, this shall be my Altar,
And I will place thee here, my Deity.
_Qu_. Great Sir, that Throne is only fit for you.
_Ors_. I say again, I'll have it fit for two:
Thou art a Woman, thank the Gods for that:
--Ascend, my lovely Virgin, and adorn it;
Ascend, and be immortal as my self.
_Art_. That Throne she was not born to.
_Ors_. Into the Sea with that bold Counsellor,
And let him there dispute with Winds and Waves. [_Art. ex_.
_Being seated on a Throne, enter several in Masquerades,
and dance_.
--Cou'd I be sensible of any Pleasure,
But what I take in thee, this had surpriz'd me.
_Olym_. A Banquet, Sir, attends you.
_Ors_. Dispose me as you please, my lovely Virgin;
For I've resign'd my Being to your Will,
And have no more of what I call my own,
Than Sense of Joys and Pains, which you create.
[_They rise, and sit down at a Banquet. He gazes on her_.
_Olym_. Will you not please to eat?
_Ors_. It is too gross a Pleasure for a King.
Sure, if they eat, 'tis some celestial Food,
As I do by gazing on thy Eyes--
Ah, lovely Maid--
_Olym_. Why do you sigh, Sir?
_Ors_. For something which I want; yet having thee,
What more can Heaven bestow to gratify
My Soul and Sense withal?
_Olym_. Sir, taste this Wine;
Perhaps 'twill alter that deceiv'd Opinion,
And let you know the Error of your Passion;
'Twill cause at least some Alteration in you.
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 | 9 |
10 |
11 |
12 |
13 |
14 |
15 |
16 |
17 |
18 |
19 |
20 |
21 |
22 |
23 |
24 |
25 |
26 |
27 |
28 |
29 |
30