Alcip.  But, Madam, what d’you mean by this reserve? 
To what intent does all this Coldness serve? 
Is there no pity to my Sufferings due? 
And will you still my Languishments renew? 
Come, come, recal what you have rashly said;
And own to morrow that thou art no Maid: 
Thy Blushes do betray thy willingness,
And in thy lovely Eyes I read success.

Er.  A double tie obliges me to be
Strict to my Vows, my Love and Amity;
For my own sake the first I’ll ne’er decline,
And I would gladly keep the last for thine.

Alcip.  Madam, you strangely do improve my pain, To give me hopes you must recal again.

Er.  Alcippus, you this language will forbear,
When you shall know how powerful you are;
For whilst you here endeavour to subdue,
The best of Women languishes for you.

Alcip.  Erminia, do not mock my misery,
For though you cannot love, yet pity me;
That you allow my Passion no return,
Is weight enough, you need not add your Scorn,
In this your Cruelty is too severe.

Er.  Alcippus, you mistake me every where.

Alcip.  To whom, Erminia, do I owe this Fate?

Er.  To morrow all her story I’ll relate.  Till then the promise I the Princess made, I beg you would permit might be obey’d.

Alcip.  You, Madam, with so many charms assail,
You need not question but you shall prevail;
Thy power’s not lessen’d in thy being mine,
But much augmented in my being thine,
The glory of my chains may raise me more,
But I am still that Slave I was before.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV.  Philander’s Bed-chamber.

    Enter Philander and Alcander. [The Prince half undrest.

Phi.  What’s a Clock, Alcander?

Alcan.  ’Tis midnight, Sir, will you not go to bed?

Phi.  To bed, Friend; what to do?

Alcan.  To sleep, Sir, as you were wont to do.

Phi.  Sleep, and Erminia have abandon’d me; I’ll never sleep again.

Alcan.  This is an humour, Sir, you must forsake.

Phi.  Never, never, oh Alcander.  Dost know where my Erminia lies to night?

Alcan.  I guess, Sir.

Phi.  Where?  Nay, prithee speak, Indeed I shall not be offended at it.

Alcan.  I know not why you should, Sir; She’s where she ought, abed with young Alcippus.

Phi.  Thou speak’st thy real Thoughts.

Alcan.  Why should your Highness doubt it?

Phi.  By Heaven, there is no faith in Woman-kind; Alcander, dost thou know an honest Woman?

Alcan.  Many, Sir.

Phi.  I do not think it, ’tis impossible; Erminia, if it could have been, were she, But she has broke her Vows, which I held sacred, And plays the wanton in another’s arms.