by John Dryden
Dor. A very plain, and pithy declaration. I see, sir, you have been travelling in Spain or Italy, or some of the hot countries, where men come to the point immediately. But are you sure these are not words of course? For I would not give my poor heart an occasion of complaint against me, that I engaged it too rashly, and then could not bring it off.
Pala. Your heart may trust itself with me safely; I shall use it very civilly while it stays, and never turn it away, without fair warning to provide for itself.
Dor. First, then, I do receive your passion with as little consideration, on my part, as ever you gave it me, on yours. And now, see what a miserable wretch you have made yourself!
Pala. Who, I miserable? Thank you for that. Give me love enough, and life enough, and I defy Fortune.
Dor. Know, then, thou man of vain imagination, know, to thy utter confusion, that I am virtuous.
Pala. Such another word, and I give up the ghost.
Dor. Then, to strike you quite dead, know that I am married too.
Pala. Art thou married? O thou damnable virtuous woman!
Dor. Yes, married to a gentleman; young, handsome rich, valiant, and with all the good qualities that will make you despair, and hang yourself.
Pala. Well, in spite of all that, I’ll love you: Fortune has cut us out for one another; for I am to be married within these three days; married, past redemption to a young, fair, rich, and virtuous lady; and it shall go hard but I will love my wife as little, as, I perceive, you do your husband.
Dor. Remember, I invade no propriety: my servant you are, only ‘till you are married.
Pala. In the meantime, you are to forget you have a husband.
Dor. And you, that you are to have a wife.
Bel. [aside, to her Lady.] O madam, my lord’s just at the end of the walks! and, if you make not haste, will discover you.
Dor. Some other time, new servant, we’ll talk further of the premises; in the mean while, break not my first commandment, that is, not to follow me.
Pala. But where, then, shall I find you again?
Dor. At court. Yours, for two days, sir.
Pala. And nights, I beseech you, madam. [Exeunt Doralice and Beliz.
Pala. Well, I’ll say that for thee, thou art a very dexterous executioner; thou hast done my business at one stroke: yet I must marry another — and yet I must love this; and if it lead me into some little inconveniencies, as jealousies, and duels, and death, and so forth — yet, while sweet love is in the case, Fortune, do thy worst, and avaunt, mortality!
Enter Rhodophil, who seems speaking to one within.
Rho. Leave ‘em with my lieutenant, while I fetch new orders from the king. — How? Palamede!
[Sees Palamede.
Pala. Rhodophil!
Rho. Who thought to have seen you in Sicily?
Pala. Who thought to have found the court so far from Syracuse?
Rho. The king best knows the reason of the progress. But, answer me, I beseech you, what brought you home from travel?
Pala. The commands of an old rich father.
Rho. And the hopes of burying him?
Pala. Both together, as you see, have prevailed on my good nature. In few words, my old man has already married me; for he has agreed with another old man, as rich and as covetous as himself; the articles are drawn, and I have given my consent, for fear of being disinherited; and yet know not what kind of woman I am to marry.
Rho. Sure your father intends you some very ugly wife, and has a mind to keep you in ignorance till you have shot the gulf.
Pala. I know not that; but obey I will, and must.
Rho. Then I cannot chuse but grieve for all the good girls and courtezans of France and Italy. They have lost the most kind-hearted, doting, prodigal humble servant, in Europe.
Pala. All I could do, in these three years I staid behind you, was to comfort the poor creatures for the loss of you. But what’s the reason that, in all this time, a friend could never hear from you?
Rho. Alas, dear Palamede! I have had no joy to write, nor indeed to do any thing in the world to please me. The greatest misfortune imaginable is fallen upon me.
Pala. Pr’ythee, what’s the matter?
Rho. In one word, I am married: wretchedly married; and have been above these two years. Yes, faith, the devil has had power over me, in spite of my vows and resolutions to the contrary.
Pala. I find you have sold yourself for filthy lucre; she’s old, or ill conditioned.
Rho. No; none of these: I’m sure she’s young; and, for her humour, she laughs, sings, and dances eternally; and, which is more, we never quarrel about it, for I do the same.
Pala. You’re very unfortunate indeed: then the case is plain, she is not handsome.
Rho. A great beauty too, as people say.
Pala. As people say? why, you should know that best yourself.
Rho. Ask those, who have smelt to a strong perfume two years together, what’s the scent.
Pala. But here are good qualities enough for one woman.
Rho. Ay, too many, Palamede. If I could put them into three or four women, I should be content.
Pala. O, now I have found it! you dislike her for no other reason but because she’s your wife.
Rho. And is not that enough? All that I know of her perfections now, is only by memory. I remember indeed, that about two years ago I loved her passionately; but those golden days are gone, Palamede: Yet I loved her a whole half year, double the natural term of any mistress; and I think, in my conscience, I could have held out another quarter, but then the world began to laugh at me, and a certain shame, of being out of fashion, seized me. At last, we arrived at that point, that there was nothing left in us to make us new to one another. Yet still I set a good face upon the matter, and am infinite fond of her before company; but when we are alone, we walk like lions in a room; she one way, and I another. And we lie with our backs to each other, so far distant, as if the fashion of great beds was only invented to keep husband and wife sufficiently asunder.
Pala. The truth is, your disease is very desperate; but, though you cannot be cured you may be patched up a little: you must get you a mistress, Rhodophil. That, indeed, is living upon cordials; but, as fast as one fails, you must supply it with another. You’re like a gamester who has lost his estate; yet, in doing that, you have learned the advantages of play, and can arrive to live upon’t.
Rho. Truth is, I have been thinking on’t, and have just resolved to take your counsel; and, faith, considering the damned disadvantages of a married man, I have provided well enough, for a poor humble sinner, that is not ambitious of great matters.
Pala. What is she, for a woman?
Rho. One of the stars of Syracuse, I assure you: Young enough, fair enough; and, but for one quality, just such a woman as I could wish.
Pala. O friend, this is not an age to be critical in beauty. When we had good store of handsome women, and but few chapmen, you might have been more curious in your choice; but now the price is enhanced upon us, and all mankind set up for mistresses, so that poor little creatures, without beauty, birth, or breeding, but only impudence, go off at unreasonable rates: And a man, in these hard times, snaps at them, as he does at broad gold; never examines the weight, but takes light or heavy, as he can get it.
Rho. But my mistress has one fault, that’s almost unpardonable; for, being a town-lady, without any relation to the court, yet she thinks herself undone if she be not seen there three or four times a day with the princess Amalthea. And, for the king, she haunts and watches him so narrowly in a morning, that she prevents even the chemists, who beset his chamber, to turn their mercury into his gold.
Pala. Yet, hitherto, methinks, you are no very unhappy man.
Rho. With all this, she’s the greatest gossip in nature; for, besides the court, she’s the most eternal visitor of the town; and yet manages her time so well, that she seems ubiquitary. For my part, I can compare her to nothing but the sun; for, like him, she take
s no rest, nor ever sets in one place, but to rise in another.
Pala. I confess, she had need be handsome, with these qualities.
Rho. No lady can be so curious of a new fashion, as she is of a new French word: she’s the very mint of the nation; and as fast as any bullion comes out of France, coins it immediately into our language.
Pala. And her name is —
Rho. No naming; that’s not like a cavalier: Find her, if you can, by my description; and I am not so ill a painter that I need write the name beneath the picture.
Pala. Well, then, how far have you proceeded in your love?
Rho. ’Tis yet in the bud, and what fruit it may bear I cannot tell; for this insufferable humour, of haunting the court, is so predominant, that she has hitherto broken all her assignations with me, for fear of missing her visits there.
Pala. That’s the hardest part of your adventure. But, for aught I see, fortune has used us both alike: I have a strange kind of mistress too in court, besides her I am to marry.
Rho. You have made haste to be in love, then; for, if I am not mistaken, you are but this day arrived.
Pala. That’s all one: I have seen the lady already, who has charmed me; seen her in these walks, courted her, and received, for the first time, an answer that does not put me into despair.
To them Argaleon, Amalthea, and Artemis.
I’ll tell you more at leisure my adventures. The walks fill apace, I see. Stay, is not that the young lord Argaleon, the king’s favourite?
Rho. Yes, and as proud as ever, as ambitious, and as revengeful.
Pala. How keeps he the king’s favour with these qualities?
Rho. Argaleon’s father helped him to the crown: besides, he gilds over all his vices to the king, and, standing in the dark to him, sees all his inclinations, interests, and humours, which he so times and soothes, that, in effect, he reigns.
Pala. His sister Amalthea, who, I guess, stands by him, seems not to be of his temper.
Rho. O, she’s all goodness and generosity.
Arga. Rhodophil, the king expects you earnestly.
Rho. ’Tis done, my lord, what he commanded: I only waited his return from hunting. Shall I attend your lordship to him?
Arga. No; I go first another way. [Exit hastily.
Pala. He seems in haste, and discomposed.
Amal. [to Rhod. after a short whisper.] Your friend? then he must needs be of much merit.
Rho. When he has kissed the king’s hand, I know he’ll beg the honour to kiss yours. Come, Palamede.
[Exeunt Rhodo. and Pala. bowing to Amal.
Arte. Madam, you tell me most surprising news.
Amal. The fear of it, you see,
Has discomposed my brother; but to me,
All, that can bring my country good, is welcome.
Arte. It seems incredible, that this old king,
Whom all the world thought childless,
Should come to search the farthest parts of Sicily,
In hope to find an heir.
Amal. To lessen your astonishment, I will
Unfold some private passages of state,
Of which you are yet ignorant: Know, first,
That this Polydamus, who reigns, unjustly
Gained the crown.
Arte. Somewhat of this I have confusedly heard.
Amal. I’ll tell you all in brief: Theagenes,
Our last great king,
Had, by his queen, one only son, an infant
Of three years old, called, after him, Theagenes.
The general, this Polydamus, then married;
The public feasts for which were scarcely past,
When a rebellion in the heart of Sicily
Called out the king to arms.
Arte. Polydamus
Had then a just excuse to stay behind.
Amal. His temper was too warlike to accept it.
He left his bride, and the new joys of marriage,
And followed to the field. In short, they fought,
The rebels were o’ercome; but in the fight
The too bold king received a mortal wound.
When he perceived his end approaching near,
He called the general, to whose care he left
His widow queen, and orphan son; then died.
Arte. Then false Polydamus betrayed his trust?
Amal. He did; and, with my father’s help, — for which
Heaven pardon him! — so gained their soldiers’ hearts,
That, in a few days, he was saluted king:
And when his crimes had impudence enough
To bear the eye of day,
He marched his army back to Syracuse.
But see how heaven can punish wicked men,
In granting their desires: The news was brought him,
That day he was to enter it, that Eubulus,
Whom his dead master had left governor,
Was fled, and with him bore away the queen,
And royal orphan; but, what more amazed him,
His wife, now big with child, and much detesting
Her husband’s practices, had willingly
Accompanied their flight.
Arte. How I admire her virtue!
Amal. What became
Of her, and them, since that, was never known;
Only, some few days since, a famous robber
Was taken with some jewels of vast price,
Which, when they were delivered to the king,
He knew had been his wife’s; with these, a letter,
Much torn and sullied, but which yet he knew
To be her writing.
Arte. Sure, from hence he learned
He had a son?
Amal. It was not left so plain:
The paper only said, she died in child-bed;
But when it should have mentioned son or daughter,
Just there it was torn off.
Arte. Madam, the king.
To them Polydamus, Argaleon, Guard and Attendants.
Arga. The robber, though thrice racked, confessed no more.
But that he took those jewels near this place.
Poly. But yet the circumstances strongly argue,
That those, for whom I search, are not far off.
Arga. I cannot easily believe it.
Arte. No,
You would not have it so. [Aside.
Poly. Those, I employed, have in the neighbouring hamlet,
Amongst the fishers’ cabins, made discovery
Of some young persons, whose uncommon beauty,
And graceful carriage, make it seem suspicious
They are not what they seem: I therefore sent
The captain of my guards, this morning early,
With orders to secure and bring them to me.
Enter Rhodophil and Palamede.
O, here he is. — Have you performed my will?
Rho. Sir, those, whom you commanded me to bring,
Are waiting in the walks.
Poly. Conduct them hither.
Rho. First, give me leave
To beg your notice of this gentleman.
Poly. He seems to merit it. His name and quality?
Rho. Palamede, son to lord Cleodemus of Palermo,
And new returned from travel. [Palamede approaches, and kneels to kiss the Kings hand.
Poly. You are welcome.
I knew your father well, he was both brave
And honest; we two once were fellow soldiers
In the last civil wars.
Pala. I bring the same unquestion’d honesty
And zeal to serve your majesty; the courage
You were pleased to praise in him,
Your royal prudence, and your people’s love,
Will never give me leave to try, like him,
In civil wars; I hope it may in foreign.
Poly. Attend the court, and it shall be my care
To find out some employment, worthy you.
Go, Rho
dophil, and bring in those without. [Exeunt Rho. and Pala.
Rhodophil returns again immediately, and with him enter Hermogenes, Leonidas, and Palmyra.
Behold two miracles! [Looking earnestly on Leon. and Palmyra.
Of different sexes, but of equal form:
So matchless both, that my divided soul
Can scarcely ask the gods a son or daughter,
For fear of losing one. If from your hands,
You powers, I shall this day receive a daughter,
Argaleon, she is yours; but, if a son,
Then Amalthea’s love shall make him happy.
Arga. Grant, heaven, this admirable nymph may prove
That issue, which he seeks!
Amal. Venus Urania, if thou art a goddess,
Grant that sweet youth may prove the prince of Sicily!
Poly. Tell me, old man, and tell me true, from whence [To Herm.
Had you that youth and maid?
Her. From whence you had
Your sceptre, sir: I had them from the gods.
Poly. The gods then have not such another gift.
Say who their parents were.
Her. My wife, and I.
Arga. It is not likely, a virgin, of so excellent a beauty,
Should come from such a stock.
Amal. Much less, that such a youth, so sweet, so graceful,
Should be produced from peasants.
Her. Why, nature is the same in villages,
And much more fit to form a noble issue,
Where it is least corrupted.
Poly. He talks too like a man that knew the world,
To have been long a peasant. But the rack
Will teach him other language. Hence with him! [As the Guards are carrying him away, his peruke falls off.
Sure I have seen that face before. Hermogenes!
’Tis he, ’tis he, who fled away with Eubulus,
And with my dear Eudoxia.
Her. Yes, sir, I am Hermogenes;
And if to have been loyal be a crime,
I stand prepared to suffer.
Poly. If thou would’st live, speak quickly,
What is become of my Eudoxia?
Where is the queen and young Theagenes?
Where Eubulus? and which of these is mine? [Pointing to Leon. and Palm.
Her. Eudoxia is dead, so is the queen,
The infant king, her son, and Eubulus.
Poly. Traitor, ’tis false: Produce them, or —
Her. Once more
I tell you, they are dead; but leave to threaten,