Secret Love

Act V

FLORIMEL in man's habit.

Flor. 'Twill be rare now, if I can go through with it, to outdo this mad Celadon in all his tricks, and get both his mistresses from him; then I shall revenge myself upon all three, and save my own stake into the bargain; for I find I do love the rogue, in spite of all his infidelities. Yonder they are, and this way they must come. If clothes and a bon mien will take them, I shall do it.Save you, Monsieur Florimel! Faith, me thinks you are a very janty fellow, poudr et ajust, as well as the best of 'em. I can manage the little comb; set my hat, shake my garniture, toss about my empty noddle, walk with a courant slur, and at every step peck down my head: If I should be mistaken for some courtier now, pray where's the difference?

Enter, to her, CELADON, OLINDA, and SABINA.

Olin. Never mince the matter!

Sab. You have left your heart behind with Florimel; we know it.

Cel. You know you wrong me: when I am with Florimel, 'tis still your prisoner, it only draws a longer chain after it.

Flo. Is it e'en so! then farewell, poor Florimel! thy maidenhead is condemned to die with thee.

Cel. But let's leave this discourse; 'tis all digression, that does not speak of your beauties.

Flo. Now for me, in the name of impudence![Comes forward.] They are the greatest beauties, I confess, that ever I beheld

Cel. How now, what's the meaning of this young fellow?

Flo. And therefore I cannot wonder that this gentleman, who has the honour to be known to you, should admire you, since I, that am a stranger

Cel. And a very impudent one, as I take it, sir.

Flo. Am so extremely surprised, that I admire, love, am wounded, and am dying, all in a moment.

Cel. I have seen him somewhere, but where I know not:Pry'thee, my friend, leave us; dost thou think, we do not know our way in court?

Flo. I pretend not to instruct you in your way; you see I do not go before you; but you cannot possibly deny me the happiness to wait upon these ladies; me, who

Cel. Thee, who shalt be beaten most unmercifully, if thou dost follow them.

Flo. You will not draw in court, I hope?

Cel. Pox on him, let's walk away faster, and be rid of him.

Flo. O, take no care for me, sir! you shall not lose me; I'll rather mend my pace, than not wait on you.

Olin. I begin to like this fellow.

Cel. You make very bold here in my seraglio, and I shall find a time to tell you so, sir.

Flo. When you find a time to tell me on't, I shall find a time to answer you: But, pray, what do you find in yourself so extraordinary, that you should serve these ladies better than I? Let me know what 'tis you value yourself upon, and let them judge betwixt us.

Cel. I am somewhat more a man than you.

Flo. That is, you are so much older than I:Do you like a man ever the better for his age, ladies?

Sab. Well said, young-gentleman.

Cel. Pish, thee! a young raw creature; thou hast ne'er been under the barber's hands yet.

Flo. No, nor under the surgeon's neither, as you have been.

Cel. 'Slife, what would'st thou be at? I am madder than thou art.

Flo. The devil you are! I'll tope with you; I'll sing with you;

I'll dance with you;I'll swagger with you

Cel. I'll fight with you.

Flo. Out upon fighting; 'tis grown so common a fashion, that a modish man condemns it; a man of garniture and feather is above the dispensation of the sword.

Olin. Uds my life! here's the queen's music just going to us; you shall decide your quarrel by a dance.

Sab. Who stops the fiddles?

Cel. Base and treble, by your leaves, we arrest you at these ladies' suits.

Flo. Come on, sirs, play me a jig; you shall see how I'll baffle him.

Flo. Your judgment, ladies.

Olin. You, sir; you, sir: This is the rarest gentleman! I could live and die with him

Sab. Lord, how he sweats! please you, sir, to make use of my handkerchief?

Olin. You and I are merry, and just of an humour, sir; therefore we two should love one another.

Sab. And you and I are just of an age, sir; and therefore, methinks, we should not hate one another.

Cel. Then I perceive, ladies, I am a castaway, a reprobate, with you: Why, 'faith, this is hard luck now, that I should be no less than one whole hour in getting your affections, and now must lose 'em in a quarter of it.

Olin. No matter, let him rail; does the loss afflict you, sir?

Cel. No, in faith, does it not; for if you had not forsaken me, I had you: So the willows may flourish, for any branches I shall rob 'em of.

Sab. However, we have the advantage to have left you; not you us.

Cel. That's only a certain nimbleness in nature, you women have, to be first inconstant; but if you had not made the more haste, the wind was veering too upon my weathercock: The best on't is, Florimel is worth both of you.

Flo. 'Tis like she'll accept of their leavings.

Cel. She will accept on't, and she shall accept on't: I think I know more than you of her mind, sir.

Enter MELISSA.

Mel. Daughters, there's a poor collation within, that waits for you.

Flo. Will you walk, musty sir?

Cel. No, marry, sir, I will not; I have surfeited of that old woman's face already.

Flo. Begin some frolic, then; what will you do for her?

Cel. Faith, I am no dog, to show tricks for her; I cannot come aloft to an old woman.

Flo. Dare you kiss her?

Cel. I was never dared by any man. By your leave, old madam [He plucks off her ruff.

Mel. Help! help! do you discover my nakedness?

Cel. Peace, Tiffany! no harm! [He puts on the ruff.] Now, Sir, here's Florimel's health to you. [Kisses her.

Mel. Away, sir!A sweet young man as you are, to abuse the gift of nature so!

Cel. Good mother, do not commend me so; I am flesh and blood, and you do not know what you may pluck upon that reverend person of yours.Come on, follow your leader.

[Gives FLORIMEL the ruff; she puts it on.

Flo. Stand fair, mother

Cel. What, with your hat on? Lie thou there;and thou, too

[Plucks off her hat and peruke, and discovers FLORIMEL.

All. Florimel!

Flo. My kind mistresses, how sorry I am, I can do you no further service! I think I had best resign you to Celadon, to make amends for me.

Cel. Lord! what a misfortune it was, ladies, that the gentleman could not hold forth to you?

Olin. We have lost Celadon too.

Mel. Come away; this is past enduring. [Exeunt MEL. and OLIN.

Sab. Well, if ever I believe a man to be a man, for the sake of a peruke and feather again.

Flo. Come, Celadon, shall we make accounts even? Lord! what a hanging-look was there? indeed, if you had been recreant to your mistress, or had forsworn your love, that sinner's face had been but decent; but, for the virtuous, the innocent, the constant Celadon!

Cel. This is not very heroic in you now, to insult over a man in his misfortunes; but take heed, you have robb'd me of my two mistresses; I shall grow desperately constant, and all the tempest of my love will fall upon your head: I shall so pay you!

Flo. Who, you pay me! you are a bankrupt, cast beyond all possibility of recovery.

Cel. If I am a bankrupt, I'll be a very honest one; when I cannot pay my debts, at least I'll give you up the possession of my body.

Flo. No, I'll deal better with you; since you are unable to pay, I'll give in your bond.

Enter PHILOCLES with a commanders staff in his hand, attended.

Phil. Cousin, I am sorry I must take you from your company about an earnest business.

Flo. There needs no excuse, my lord; we had despatched our affairs, and were just parting.

Cel. Will you be going, sir? sweet sir,damn'd sir!I have but one word more to say to you.

Flo. As I am a man of honour, I'll wait on you some other time.

Cel. By these breeches,

Flo. Which, if I marry you, I am resolved to wear; put that into our bargain, and so adieu, sir.

[Exit FLO.

Phil. Hark you, cousin,[They whisper. You'll see it exactly executed; I rely upon you.

Cel. I shall not fail, my lord; may the conclusion of it prove happy to you. [Exit CEL.

PHILOCLES solus.

Wheree'er I cast about my wandering eyes,

Greatness lies ready in some shape to tempt me.

The royal furniture in every room,

The guards, and the huge waving crowds of people,

All waiting for a sight of that fair queen,

Who makes a present of her love to me:

Now tell me, Stoick!

If all these with a wish might be made thine,

Would'st thou not truck thy ragged virtue for 'em?

If glory was a bait, that angels swallow'd,

How then should souls allied to sense resist it?

Enter CANDIOPE.

Ah poor Candiope! I pity her,

But that is all.

Cand. O my dear Philocles!

A thousand blessings wait on thee!

The hope of being thine, I think, will put

Me past my meat and sleep with ecstasy,

So I shall keep the fasts of seraphims,

And wake for joy, like nightingales in May.

Phil. Wake, Philocles, wake from thy dream of glory,

'Tis all but shadow to Candiope:

Canst thou betray a love so innocent? [Aside.

Cand. What makes you melancholick? I doubt,

I have displeased you.

Phil. No, my love, I am not displeased with you,

But with myself, when I consider,

How little I deserve you.

Cand. Say not so, my Philocles; a love so true as yours,

That would have left a court, and a queen's favour,

To live in a poor hermitage with me,

Phil. Ha! she has stung me to the quick!

As if she knew the falsehood I intended:

But, I thank heaven, it has recall'd my virtue;

[Aside.

Oh! my dear, I love you, and you only; [To her.

Go in, I have some business for a while;

But I think minutes ages till we meet.

Cand. I knew you had; but yet I could not chuse,

But come and look upon you. [Exit CANDIOPE.

Phil. What barbarous man would wrong so sweet a virtue!

Enter the Queen in black, with ASTERIA.

Madam, the states are straight to meet; but why

In these dark ornaments will you be seen?

Queen. They fit the fortune of a captive queen.

Phil. Deep shades are thus to heighten colours set;

So stars in night, and diamonds shine in jet.

Queen. True friends should so in dark afflictions shine,

But I have no great cause to boast of mine.

Phil. You may have too much prejudice for some,

And think them false, before their trials come.

But, madam, what determine you to do?

Queen. I came not here to be advised by you:

But charge you, by that power which once you owned,

And which is still my right, even when unthroned,

That whatsoe'er the states resolve of me,

You never more think of Candiope.

Phil. Not think of her! ah, how should I obey!

Her tyrant eyes have forced my heart away.

Queen. By force retake it from those tyrant eyes,

I'll grant you out my letters of reprise.

Phil. She has too well prevented that design,

By giving me her heart, in change for mine.

Queen. Thus foolish Indians gold for glass forego;

'Twas to your loss you prized your heart so low.

I set its value when you were advanced,

And as my favours grew, its rate enhanced.

Phil. The rate of subjects' hearts by yours must go,

And love in yours has set the value low.

Queen. I stand corrected, and myself reprove;

You teach me to repent my low-placed love:

Help me this passion from my heart to tear!

Now rail on him, and I will sit and hear.

Phil. Madam, like you, I have repented too,

And dare not rail on one, I do not know.

Queen. This, Philocles, like strange perverseness shews,

As if whate'er I said you would oppose;

How come you thus concerned for this unknown?

Phil. I only judge his actions by my own.

Queen. I've heard too much, and you too much have said.

O heavens, the secret of my soul's betrayed!

He knows my love, I read it in his face,

And blushes, conscious of his queen's disgrace.

[Aside.

Hence quickly, hence, or I shall die with shame.

[To him.

Phil. Now I love both, and both with equal flame.

Wretched I came, more wretched I retire:

When two winds blow it, who can quench the fire?

[Exit PHILOCLES.

Queen. O my Asteria! I know not whom to accuse;

But either my own eyes, or you, have told

My love to Philocles.

Ast. Is't possible that he should know it, madam?

Queen. Methinks, you ask that question guiltily.

[Lays her hand on ASTERIA'S shoulder.

Confess, for I will know, what was the subject

Of your long discourse i'th' antichamber with him.

Ast. It was business to convince him, madam,

How ill he did, being so much obliged,

To join in your imprisonment.

Queen. Nay, now I am confirmed my thought was true;

For you could give him no such reason

Of his obligements, as my love.

Ast. Because I saw him much a malecontent,

I thought to win him to your interest, madam,

By telling him it was no want of kindness,

Made your refusal of Candiope.

And he, perhaps

Queen. What of him now?

Ast. As men are apt, interpreted my words,

To all the advantage he could wrest the sense,

As if I meant you loved him.

Queen. Have I deposited within thy breast

The dearest treasure of my life, my glory,

And hast thou thus betrayed me!

But why do I accuse thy female weakness,

And not my own, for trusting thee!

Unhappy queen, Philocles knows thy fondness,

And needs must think it done by thy command.

Ast. Dear madam, think not so.

Queen. Peace, peace, thou should'st for ever hold thy tongue:

For it has spoke too much for all thy life. [To her.

Then Philocles has told Candiope,

And courts her kindness with his scorn of me.

O whither am I fallen!

But I must rouse myself, and give a stop

To all these ills by headlong passion caused.

In hearts resolved weak love is put to flight,

And only conquers, when we dare not fight.

But we indulge our harms, and, while he gains

An entrance, please ourselves into our pains.

Enter LYSIMANTES.

Ast. Prince Lysimantes, madam.

Queen. Come near, you poor deluded criminal;

See how ambition cheats you:

You thought to find a prisoner here,

But you behold a queen.

Lys. And may you long be so! 'tis true, this act

May cause some wonder in your majesty.

Queen. None, cousin, none; I ever thought you

Ambitious, proud, designing.

Lys. Yet all my pride, designs, and my ambition,

Were taught me by a master,

With whom you are not unacquainted, madam.

Queen. Explain yourself; dark purposes, like yours,

Need an interpretation.

Lys. 'Tis love, I mean.

Queen. Have my low fortunes given thee

This insolence, to name it to thy queen?

Lys. Yet you have heard, love named without offence.

As much below you as you think my passion,

I can look down on yours.

Queen. Does he know it too!

This is the extremest malice of my stars! [Aside.

Lys. You see that princes' faults,

(Howe'er they think them safe from public view)

Fly out thro the dark crannies of their closets:

We know what the sun does,

Even when we see him not, in t'other world.

Queen. My actions, cousin, never feared the light.

Lys. Produce him, then, your darling of the dark.

For such an one you have.

Queen. I know no such.

Lys. You know, but will not own him.

Queen. Rebels ne'er want pretence to blacken kings,

And this, it seems, is yours: Do you produce him,

Or ne'er hereafter sully my renown

With this aspersion:Sure he dare not name him.

[Aside.

Lys. I am too tender of your frame; or else

Nor are things brought to that extremity:

Provided you accept my passion,

I'll gladly yield to think I was deceived.

Queen. Keep in your error still; I will not buy

Your good opinion at so dear a rate,

And my own misery, by being yours.

Lys. Do not provoke my patience by such scorns.

For fear I break through all, and name him to you.

Queen. Hope not to fright me with your mighty looks;

Know, I dare stem that tempest in your brow,

And dash it back upon you.

Lys. Spite of prudence it will out:'Tis Philocles!

Now judge, when I was made a property

To cheat myself, by making him your prisoner,

Whether I had not right to take up arms?

Queen. Poor envious wretch!

Was this the venom that swelled up thy breast?

My grace to Philocles mis-deemed my love!

Lys. Tis true, the gentleman is innocent;

He ne'er sinned up so high, not in his wishes;

You know he loves elsewhere.

Queen. You mean your sister.

Lys. I wish some Sibyl now would tell me,

Why you refused her to him.

Queen. Perhaps I did not think him worthy of her.

Lys. Did you not think him too worthy, madam?

This is too thin a veil to hide your passion;

To prove you love him not, yet give her him,

And I'll engage my honour to lay down my arms.

Queen. He is arrived where I would wish

[Aside.

Call in the company, and you shall see what I will do.

Lys. Who waits without there? [Exit LYS.

Queen. Now hold, my heart, for this one act of honour,

And I will never ask more courage of thee:

Once more I have the means to reinstate myself into my glory.

I feel my love to Philocles within me

Shrink, and pull back my heart from this hard trial.

But it must be, when glory says it must:

As children, wading from some river's bank,

First try the water with their tender feet;

Then, shuddering up with cold, step back again,

And straight a little further venture on,

Till, at the last, they plunge into the deep,

And pass, at once, what they were doubting long:

I'll make the experiment; it shall be done in haste,

Because I'll put it past my power to undo.

Enter at one door LYSIMANTES, at the other PHILOCLES, CELADON, CANDIOPE, FLORIMEL, FLAVIA, OLINDA, SABINA, the three deputies, and soldiers.

Lys. In arms! is all well, Philocles?

Phil. No, but it shall be.

Queen. He comes, and with him

The fever of my love returns to shake me.

I see love is not banished from my soul;

He is still there, but is chained up by glory.

Ast. You've made a noble conquest, madam.

Queen. Come hither Philocles: I am first to tell you,

I and my cousin are agreed; he has

Engaged to lay down arms.

Phil. 'Tis well for him he has; for all his party,

By my command, already are surprised,

While I was talking with your majesty.

Cel. Yes, 'faith, I have done him that courtesy;

I brought his followers, under pretence of guarding

it, to a strait place, where they are all coupt up

without use of their arms, and may be pelted to

death by the small infantry o'er the town.

Queen. 'Twas more than I expected, or could hope;

Yet still I thought your meaning honest.

Phil. My fault was rashness, but 'twas full of zeal:

Nor had I e'er been led to that attempt,

Had I not seen, it would be done without me:

But by compliance I preserved the power,

Which I have since made use of for your service.

Queen. And which I purpose so to recompence

Lys. With her crown, she means: I knew 'twould come to it.

[Aside.

Phil. O heavens, she'll own her love!

Then I must lose Candiope for ever,

And, floating in a vast abyss of glory,

Seek and not find myself!

Queen. Take your Candiope; and be as happy

As love can make you both:How pleased I am,

That I can force my tongue

To speak words, so far distant from my heart!

[Aside.

Cand. My happiness is more than I can utter!

Lys. Methinks I could do violence on myself, for taking arms

Against a queen, so good, so bountiful:

Give me leave, madam, in my ecstasy

Of joy, to give you thanks for Philocles:

You have preserved my friend, and now he owes not

His fortunes only to your favour; but,

What's more, his life, and, more than that, his love.

I am convinced, she never loved him now;

Since by her free consent, all force removed,

She gives him to my sister.

Flavia was an impostor, and deceived me. [Aside.

Phil. As for me, madam, I can only say,

That I beg respite for my thanks; for, on a sudden,

The benefit's so great, it overwhelms me.

Ast. Mark but the faintness of the acknowledgement.

[To the Queen, aside.

Queen to Ast.] I have observed it with you, and am pleased,

He seems not satisfied; for I still wish

That he may love me.

Phil. I see Asteria deluded me,

With flattering hopes of the queen's love.

Only to draw me off from Lysimantes:

But I will think no more on't.

I'm going to possess Candiope,

And I am ravished with the joy on't!ha!

Not ravished neither.

For what can be more charming than that queen!

Behold how night sits lovely on her eye-brows,

While day breaks from her eyes! then a crown too:

Lost, lost, for ever lost; and now 'tis gone,

Tis beautiful.[Aside.

Ant. How he eyes you still! [To the queen.

Phil. Sure I had one of the fallen angels' dreams;

All heaven within this hour was mine! [Aside.

Cand. What is it, that disturbs you, dear?

Phil. Only the greatness of my joy:

I've ta'en too strong a cordial, love,

And cannot yet digest it.

Queen. Tis done!

[Clapping her hand on ASTERIA,

But this pang more, and then a glorious birth.

The tumults of this day, my loyal subjects,

Have settled in my heart a resolution,

Happy for you, and glorious too for me.

First, for my cousin; tho', attempting on my person,

He has incurred the danger of the laws,

I will not punish him.

Lys. You bind me ever to my loyalty.

Queen. Then that I may oblige you more to it,

I here declare you rightful successor,

And heir immediate to my crown:

This, gentlemen[To the deputies.

I hope will still my subjects' discontents,

When they behold succession firmly settled.

Dep. Heaven preserve your majesty!

Queen. As for myself, I have resolved

Still to continue as I am, unmarried:

The cares, observances, and all the duties

Which I should pay an husband, I will place

Upon my people; and our mutual love

Shall make a blessing more than conjugal,

And this the states shall ratify.

Lys. Heaven bear me witness, that I take no joy

In the succession of a crown,

Which must descend to me so sad a way.

Queen. Cousin, no more; my resolution's past

Which fate shall never alter.

Phil. Then I am once more happy;

For, since none must possess her, I am pleased

With my own choice, and will desire no more:

For multiplying wishes is a curse.

That keeps the mind still painfully awake.

Queen. Celadon.

Your care and loyalty have this day obliged me;

But how to be acknowledging, I know not,

Unless you give the means.

Cel. I was in hope your majesty had forgot me; therefore, if you please, madam, I'll only beg a pardon for having taken up arms once to-day against you; for I have a foolish kind of conscience, which I wish many of your subjects had, that will not let me ask a recompence for my loyalty, when I know I have been a rebel.

Queen. Your modesty shall not serve the turn; ask something.

Cel. Then I beg, madam, you will command Florimel never to be friends with me.

Flo. Ask again; I grant that without the queen:

But why are you afraid on't?

Cel. Because I am sure, as soon as ever you are, you'll marry me.

Flo. Do you fear it?

Cel. No, 'twill come with a fear.

Flo. If you do, I will not stick with you for an oath.

Cel. I require no oath till we come to church: and then after the priest, I hope; for I find it will be my destiny to marry thee.

Flo. If ever I say a word after the black gentleman for thee, Celadon

Cel. Then, I hope, you'll give me leave to bestow a faithful heart elsewhere.

Flo. Ay, but if you would have one, you must bespeak it, for I am sure you have none ready made.

Cel. What say you, shall I marry Flavia?

Flo. No, she'll be too cunning for you.

Cel. What say you to Olinda, then? she's tall, and fair, and bonny.

Flo. And foolish, and apish, and fickle.

Cel. But Sabina there's pretty, and young, and loving, and innocent.

Flo. And dwarfish, and childish, and fond, and flippant: If you marry her sister, you will get may-poles; and if you marry her, you will get fairies to dance about them.

Cel. Nay, then, the case is clear, Florimel; if you take 'em all from me, 'tis because you reserve me for yourself.

Flo. But this marriage is such a bugbear to me! much might be if we could invent but any way to make it easy.

Cel. Some foolish people have made it uneasy, by drawing the knot faster than they need; but we that are wiser will loosen it a little.

Flo. 'Tis true, indeed, there's some difference betwixt a girdle and a halter.

Cel. As for the first year, according to the laudable custom of new-married people, we shall follow one another up into chambers, and down into gardens, and think we shall never have enough of one another. So far 'tis pleasant enough, I hope.

Flo. But after that, when we begin to live like husband and wife, and never come near one anotherwhat then, sir?

Cel. Why, then, our only happiness must be to have one mind, and one will, Florimel.

Flo. One mind, if thou wilt, but pr'ythee let us have two wills; for I find one will be little enough for me alone. But how, if those wills should meet and clash, Celadon?

Cel. I warrant thee for that; husbands and wives keep their wills far enough asunder for ever meeting. One thing let us be sure to agree on, that is, never to be jealous.

Flo. No; but e'en love one another as long as we can; and confess the truth when we can love no longer.

Cel. When I have been at play, you shall never ask me what money I have lost.

Flo. When I have been abroad, you shall never enquire who treated me.

Cel. Item, I will have the liberty to sleep all night, without your interrupting my repose for any evil design whatsoever.

Flo. Item, Then you shall bid me goodnight before you sleep.

Cel. Provided always, that whatever liberties we take with other people, we continue very honest to one another.

Flo. As far as will consist with a pleasant life.

Cel. Lastly, whereas the names of husband and wife hold forth nothing, but clashing and cloying, and dulness and faintness, in their signification; they shall be abolished for ever betwixt us.

Flo. And instead of those, we will be married by the more agreeable names of mistress and gallant.

Cel. None of my privileges to be infringed by thee, Florimel, under the penalty of a month of fasting nights.

Flo. None of my privileges to be infringed by thee, Celadon, under the penalty of cuckoldom.

Cel. Well, if it be my fortune to be made a cuckold, I had rather thou should'st make me one, than any one in Sicily; and, for my comfort, I shall have thee oftener than any of thy servants.

Flo. Look ye now, is not such a marriage as good as wenching, Celadon?

Cel. This is very good; but not so good, Florimel.

Queen. Now set we forward to the assembly.You promise, cousin, your consent?

Lys. But most unwillingly.

Queen. Philocles, I must beg your voice too.

Phil. Most joyfully I give it.

Lys. Madam, but one word more;

Since you are so resolved,

That you may see, bold as my passion was,

'Twas only for your person, not your crown;

I swear no second love

Shall violate the flame I had for you,

But, in strict imitation of your oath,

I vow a single life.

Queen. Now, my Asteria, my joys are full;

[To ASTERIA.

The powers above, that see

The innocent love I bear to Philocles,

Have given its due reward; for by this means

The right of Lysimantes will devolve

Upon Candiope: and I shall have

This great content, to think, when I am dead,

My crown may fall on Philocles's head.

[Exeunt.