OCR Text |
Show Leon. E m you not merit, as; you tafe Love gives Efteem, and then it gives Deleft. But iflbafely could forget m y V ow There would I live, retir'd from faithlefs Man. I'd lit all day within fome lonely lhaue, Or that clofe Arbour which your Hands have made: I'd fearch the Groves, and ev'ry Tree, to find . Where you had carv'd our Names upon the Rind Your Hook, your Scrip, all that was yours, Id keep, And lay 'em'bv me when I went to lleep. Thus would 1 live; and Maidens when 1 die Upon m y Herfe white True-love-knots fhould tie . And thus m y Tomb fhould be inferib d above, Here the fbrfakpt Virgin refts from Love. Leon. Think not that Time or Fate (hall e r divide Thofe Hearts, which Love and mutual Vows have ty d. But we muft part; farewel, m y Love. Palm, 1 Till when? Leon. Till the next Age of Hours we meet agen. Meantime we may W h e n near each otluer we in publick ftand, Contrive to catch a Look, or fteal a Hand: Fancy will every Touch, and Glance improve; And draw the moft fpirituous parts of Love. Our Souls fit clofe, and filetitly within ; And their o w n W e b from rheir o wn lntrals fpin. And when Eyes meet far off, our Senfe is fuch, That, Snider-like, we feel the terider'ft Touch. [Exeunt A C T I1L S C E N E I. Eetcr Rhodophil, meeting Doralice and Artemis. Rhodophil and Doralice embrace. Rho. \ jl Y own dear Heart! < c j V J Dor. M y own true Love 1 [She ftarts back, I had forgot m y felf to be fo kind; indeed I am very angry with you,- Dear; you are come home an Hour after you appointed: If you had ftaid a Minute longer, I was juft considering, whether I fhould ftab, hang, or drown my felL { Embracing him. Rho. Nothing but the King's Bufinefs could have hinder'd m e ; and I was fo vext, that I was juft laying down m y CommifGon, rather than fail m y Dear. {Kijfai ^r Hdf>d. s>rtc. W h y , this is Love as it fhould be, betwixt M a n and Wife : Such a-nother Couple would bring Marriage into Fafhion again. But is it always thus betwixt you ? Rho. Always thus! this is nothing I tell you there is not fuch a pair of Turtles in all Sicily, there is fuch an eternal Cooing and Kifhng betwixt us, that indeed it is fcandalous before civil Company. Dor. Well, if I had imagin'd, I ihould have been this fond Fool, I would never have marry'd the Man I lov'd : I marry'd to be happy; and have made my felf miferable, by over-loving. Nay, and now m y Cafe is defperate; for I have been marry'd above thefe two Years, and find m y felf every day worfe and worfe in Love: Nothing but Madnefs can be the end on't. Arte. Doat on, to the Extremity, and you are happy. Dor. Hedeferves fo infinitely much, that, the Truth is, there can be no doat-ing in the Matter; but to love well, I confefs, is a W o r k that pays it felf: 'tis telling Gold, and after taking it for ones pains. Rho. By that 1 fhould be a very covetous Perfon; for I a m ever pulling out m y Money, and putting it into m y Pocket again. Dor. O dear Rhodophil! Rho, 0 fweet Doralice ! p Embracing each other. Arte. 7*~r '-u" '"""" • r~ - • '••-•--•• • ••--•• .i-ir.a. ^ Marriage A-la-Mode. 4 8 > Arte. {Afide) Nay, I am refolv'd, I'll never interrupt Lovers: I'll leave »elii " P F U I 1 ^ 1 1 ! ' 0 1 1 1 ' [Steals away. Rho. What, «ifhe gone? I Looting up. Dor. Yes; and without taking leave; Rho. Then there's enough for this time. [Parting from her. Dor. Yes fure, the Scene's done, I take it. They walh^contrary ways on the Stage • h, with his Hands in his Po.ht, whiftling : flie, finging a dull melant holly Tune. Rho. Pox o' your dull Tune, a M an can't think for you. Dor. Pox o' your damn'd whiftling; you can neither be Company to me your felf, nor leave m e to the Freedom ot m y own Fan< Rho. Well, thou art the moft provoking Wife! Dor Well, thou art the dulleft Husband; thou art never to be provok'd. Rho. I was never thought dull, till I marry'd thee; and now thou haft made an old Knife of me, thou haft whetted me fo long, till 1 have no Edge left. Dor. I fee you are in the Husbands Fafhion; you referve all your good Humours for your Miftrefles, and keep your ill for your Wives. Rho. Prcthee leave me to m y own Cogitations; I am thinking over all m y Sins, to find for which ofthemitwasl marry'd thee. Dor. Whatever your Sin was, mine's the Punilhment. Rho. M y Comfort is, thou art not immortal ; and when that blefled, that divine Day comes, of thy Departure, I'm refolv'd I'll make one Holy-day more in the Almanack, for thy fake. Dor. Ay, you had need make a Holy-day for me, for I am fure you have made me a Martyr. Rho. Then, fetting m y victorious Foot u-on thy Head, in thc firft Hour of thy filence, (that is, the firft Hour thou art dead, for I defpair of it before) I will fwear by thy Ghoft, an Oath as terrible to me, as Styx is to the Gods, never more to be in danger of the Banes of Matrimony. Dor. And I am refolv'd to marry the very fame Day thou dy'ft, it it be but to fhow how little I'm concern'd for thee. , . Rho. Prethee, Doralicc, why do we quarrel thus a-days? ha? this is but a kind of Heathenitti life, and does not anfwer the ends of Marriage. If I have err'd, propound what reafonable Atonement may be made before we lleep, and I fhall not be refractory: But withal confider, I have been marry d thele three Years, and be not too tyranical. . Dor. W h a t fhould you talk of a Peace abed, when you can give no Security for performance of Articles ? Rho. Then, fince we muft live together, and both of us ftand upon our Terms, as to matter of dying firft, let us make our felves as merry as we can with our Misfortunes. . ;. -, .V:-',., W h y there's the Devil on't! If thou couldft make m y enjoying theeJ but a lit-tie lefs eafie, or a little more unlawful, thou fhouldlt fee what a Termagant Lover I would prove. I have take fuch Pains to enjoy thee, Doralice that I L v e fanciVl thee ail the fine W o m e n in the Town, to h d p . « ^ g . But now there's none left for me to think on, m v Imagination is quite jaded. Thou art ' a W i r a n d thou wilt be a Wife, and lean make thee another n o ^ e r . Dor. Well, fince thou art a Husband, and V.U be a Husband,:.™*fJA can find out another! 'Tis a pretty t W we W o m e n have on t , ^ be mad? Widows, while we are marry'd. Oar. Husbands « h j n i « « * £ » * J ° £» ni .in flnr we ire tiie fame, and tlie fame to them, when we nave more r^a.on W. Dear, n,y Dear pity me, 1 ^&^J%£&%V«2 moft fignal Affront at Court! 1 we,i 1 is A to noon «a *o > ^ cefs A,.;ahka, found her, convers d with> £ JI>d help (o Arte. |