The Laws of Candy Part 18

Erota:

So thou maist; There's greater action in it than in clamour, A look (if it be gracious) will begin the War, A word conclude it; then prove no Coward, Since thou hast such a friendly enemy, That teaches thee to conquer.

Antinous:

You do amaze me, Madam, I have no skill, no practice in this War, And whether you be serious, or please To make your sport on a dejected man, I cannot rightly guess; but be it as it will, It is a like unhappiness to me: My discontents bear those conditions in them, And lay me out so wretched, no designs (However truly promising a good) Can make me relish ought but a sweet-bitter Voluntary Exile.

Erota:

Why an Exile?

What comfort can there be in those Companions Which sad thoughts bring along with?

[Enter _Hyparcha_]

Hyparcha:

Madam.

[Musick.

Erota:

Whence comes this well tun'd sound?

Hyparcha:

I know not, Madam.

Erota:

Listen Wench; What ever friendly hands they are that send it,

[Song.

Let 'em play on; they are Masters of their faculty: Doth it please you, Sir?

Antinous:

According to the time.

Erota:

Go to 'em, Wench, And tell 'em, we shall thank 'em; for they have kept As good time to our disposition, as to their instruments; Unless _Antinous_ shall say he loves, There never can be sweeter accents utter'd.

[Enter _Philander_.]

Philander:

Let then the heart that did employ those hands, Receive some small share of your thanks with them, 'Tis happiness enough that you did like it; 273] A fortune unto me, that I should send it In such a lucky minute; but to obtain So gracious welcome did exceed my hopes.

Erota:

Good Prince, I thank you for't.

Philander:

O Madam, pour not (too fast) joys on me, But sprinkle 'em so gently I may stand 'em; It is enough at first, you have laid aside Those cruel angry looks out of your eyes, With which (as with your lovely) you did strike All your Beholders in an Ecstasie.

Erota:

_Philander_, you have long profest to love me.

Philander:

Have I but profest it, Madam?

Erota:

Nay, but hear me?

Philander:

More attentively than to an Oracle.

Erota:

And I will speak more truly, if more can be; Nor shall my language be wrapt up in Riddles, But plain as truth it self; I love this Gentleman, Whose grief has made him so uncapable Of Love, he will not hear, at least not understand it.

I, that have lookt with scornful eyes on thee, And other Princes, mighty in their states, And in their friends as fortunate, have now pray'd, In a pet.i.tionary kind almost, This man, this well-deserving man, (that I must say) To look upon this beauty, yet you see He casts his eyes rather upon the ground, Than he will turn 'em this way; _Philander_, You look pale; I'll talk no more.

Philander:

Pray go forward; I would be your Martyr, To dye thus, were immortally to live.

Erota:

Will you go to him then, and speak for me?

You have loved longer, but not ferventer, Know how to speak, for you have done it like An Orator, even for your self; then how will you for me Whom you profess to love above your self.

Philander:

The Curses of Dissemblers follow me Unto my Grave, and if I do not so.

Erota:

You may (as all men do) speak boldlier, better In their friends cause still, than in your own; But speak your utmost, yet you cannot feign, 274] I will stand by, and blush to witness it.

Tell him, since I beheld him, I have lost The happiness of this life, food, and rest; A quiet bosome, and the state I went with.

Tell him how he has humbled the proud, And made the living but a dead _Erota_.

Tell him withal, that she is better pleas'd With thinking on him, than enjoying these.