Volume Iii Part 90 (1/2)

SCENE I. _The Palace_.

_Enter_ Philander _and_ Galatea _inrag'd_.

_Phi_. 'Tis done, 'tis done, the fatal knot is ty'd, _Erminia_ to _Alcippus_ is a Bride; Methinks I see the Motions of her Eyes, And how her Virgin b.r.e.a.s.t.s do fall and rise: Her bashful Blush, her timorous Desire, Adding new Flame to his too vigorous Fire; Whilst he the charming Beauty must embrace, And shall I live to suffer this Disgrace?

Shall I stand tamely by, and he receive That Heaven of bliss, defenceless she can give?

No, Sister, no, renounce that Brother's name, Suffers his Patience to surmount his Flame; I'll reach the Victor's heart, and make him see, That Prize he has obtain'd belongs to me.

_Gal_. Ah, dear _Philander_, do not threaten so, Whilst him you wound, you kill a Sister too.

_Phi_. Though all the G.o.ds were rallied on his side, They should too feeble prove to guard his Pride.

Justice and Honour on my Sword shall sit, And my Revenge shall guide the lucky hit.

_Gal_. Consider but the danger and the crime, And, Sir, remember that his life is mine.

_Phi_. Peace, Sister, do not urge it as a sin, Of which the G.o.ds themselves have guilty been: The G.o.ds, my Sister, do approve Revenge By Thunder, which th'Almighty Ports unhinge, Such is their Lightning when poor Mortals fear, And Princes are the G.o.ds inhabit here; Revenge has charms that do as powerful prove As those of Beauty, and as sweet as Love, The force of Vengeance will not be withstood, Till it has bath'd and cool'd it self in Blood.

_Erminia_, sweet _Erminia_, thou art lost, And he yet lives that does the conquest boast.

_Gal_. Brother, that Captive you can ne'er retrieve More by the Victor's death, than if he live, For she in Honour cannot him prefer, Who shall become her Husband's Murderer; By safer ways you may that blessing gain, When venturing thus through Blood and Death prove vain.

_Phi_. With hopes already that are vain as Air, You've kept me from Revenge, but not Despair.

I had my self acquitted, as became _Erminia's_ wrong'd Adorer, and my Flame; My Rival I had kill'd, and set her free, Had not my Justice been disarm'd by thee.

--But for thy faithless Hope, I 'ad murder'd him, Even when the holy Priest was marrying them, And offer'd up the reeking Sacrifice To th'G.o.ds he kneel'd to, when he took my price; By all their Purity I would have don't.

But now I think I merit the Affront: He that his Vengeance idly does defer, His Safety more than his Success must fear: I, like that Coward, did prolong my Fate, But brave Revenge can never come too late.

_Gal_. Brother, if you can so inhuman prove To me your Sister, Reason, and to Love: I'll let you see that I have sentiments too, Can love and be reveng'd as well as you; That hour that shall a death to him impart, Shall send this Dagger to _Erminia's_ heart.

[_Shews a Dagger_.

_Phi_. Ah, Coward, how these words have made thee pale, And Fear above thy Courage does prevail: Ye G.o.ds, why did you such a way invent?

_Gal_. None else was left thy madness to prevent.

_Phi_. Ah, cruel Sister, I am tame become, And will reverse my happy Rival's doom: Yes, he shall live to triumph o'er my Tomb.

--But yet what thou hast said, I needs must blame, For if my resolutions prove the same, I now should kill thee, and my life renew; But were it brave or just to murder you?

At worst, I should an unkind Sister kill, Thou wouldst the sacred blood of Friends.h.i.+p spill.

I kill a Man that has undone my Fame, Ravish'd my Mistress, and contemn'd my Name, And, Sister, one who does not thee prefer: But thou no reason hast to injure her.

Such charms of Innocence her Eyes do dress, As would confound the cruel'st Murderess: And thou art soft, and canst no Horror see, Such Actions, Sister, you must leave to me.

_Gal_. The highest Love no Reason will admit, And Pa.s.sion is above my Friends.h.i.+p yet.

_Phi_. Then since I cannot hope to alter thee, Let me but beg that thou wouldst set me free; Free this poor Soul that such a coil does keep; 'Twill neither let me wake in Peace, nor sleep.

Comfort I find a stranger to my heart, Nor canst thou ought of that but thus impart; Thou shouldst with joy a death to him procure, Who by it leaves _Alcippus'_ life secure.