Volume Ii Part 6 (2/2)

Not so many Worlds as there be Stars Twinkling upon the embroider'd Firmament!

The King!

He loves my Wife _Florella_, shou'd he die-- I know none else durst love her.

_Qu_. And that's the Reason you wou'd send him hence.

_Abd_. I must confess, I wou'd not bear a wrong: But do not take me for a Villain, Madam; He is my King, and may do what he pleases.

_Qu_. 'Tis well, Sir.

_Abd_. Again that Frown, it renders thee more charming Than any other Dress thou could'st put on.

_Qu_. Away, you do not love me.

_Abd_. Now mayst thou hate me, if this be not pretty.

_Qu_. Oh, you can flatter finely--

_Abd_. Not I, by Heaven: Oh, that this Head were circled in a Crown, And I were King, by Fortune, as by Birth!

And that I was, till by thy Husband's Power I was divested in my Infancy-- Then you shou'd see, I do not flatter ye.

But I, instead of that, must see my Crown Bandy'd from Head to Head, and tamely see it: And in this wretched state I live, 'tis true; But with what Joy, you, if you lov'd, might guess.

_Qu_. We need no Crowns; Love best contented is In shady Groves, and humble Cottages, Where when 'twould sport, it safely may retreat, Free from the Noise and Danger of the Great; Where Victors are ambitious of no Bays, But what their Nymphs bestow on Holy-days; Nor Envy can the amorous Shepherd move, Unless against a Rival in his Love.

_Abd_. Love and Ambition are the same to me, In either I'll no Rivals brook.

_Qu_. Nor I: And when the King you urge me to remove, It may be from Ambition, not from Love.

_Abd_. Those Scruples did not in your Bosom dwell, When you a King did in a Husband kill.

_Qu_. How, Sir, dare you upbraid me with that Sin, To which your Perjuries first drew me in?

_Abd_. You interrupt my Sense; I only meant A Sacrifice to Love so well begun Shou'd not Devotion want to finish it; And if that stop to all our Joys were gone, The envying World wou'd to our Power submit: But Kings are sacred, and the G.o.ds alone Their Crimes must judge, and punish too, or none-- Yet he alone destroys his Happiness.

_Qu_. There's yet one more--

_Abd_. One more! give me his Name, And I will turn it to a Magick Spell, To bind him ever fast.

_Qu. Florella_.

_Abd. Florella_! Oh, I cou'd gnaw my Chains

That humble me so low as to adore her:

[_Aside_.

But the fond Blaze must out--while I erect

A n.o.bler Fire more fit for my Ambition.

--_Florella_ dies--a Victim to your Will.

I will not let you lose one single Wish, For a poor Life, or two; Tho I must see my Glories made a Prey, And not demand 'em from the Ravisher; Nor yet complain--because he is my King: But _Philip's_ Brow no sacred Ointment deifies, If he do wrong, stands fair for the Revenger.

<script>