Phi.  Ah, Coward, how these words have made thee pale,
And Fear above thy Courage does prevail: 
Ye Gods, 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 Friendship 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 Passion is above my Friendship 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.

Gal.  Dear Brother, you out-run your Patience still,
We’ll neither die our selves, nor others kill;
Something I’ll do that shall thy joys restore,
And bring thee back that health thou had’st before;
—­We’re now expected at the Banquet, where
I’d have thy Eyes more Love than Anger wear: 
This night be cheerful, and on me depend,
On me, that am thy Sister, and thy Friend: 
A little raise Alcippus’ Jealousy
And let the rest be carried on by me;
Nor would it be amiss should you provide
A Serenade to entertain the Bride: 
’Twill give him Fears that may perhaps disprove
The fond opinion of his happy Love.

Phi.  Though Hope be faithless, yet I cannot chuse, Coming from thee, but credit the abuse.

Gal.  Philander, do not your Hope’s power distrust, ’Tis time enough to die, when that’s unjust.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Court Gallery.

Enter Aminta as passing over the Stage, is stayed by Olinda.

Oli.  Why so hasty, Aminta?

Am.  The time requires it, Olinda.

Oli.  But I have an humble suit to you.

Am.  You shall command me any thing.

Oli.  Pray Heaven you keep your word.

Am.  That sad tone of thine, Olinda, has almost Made me repent of my promise; but come, what is’t?