Alcip.  When she can love to a discovery,
It shows her Passion eminent and high;
—­But I am married—­to a Maid that hates me: 
What help for that, Pisaro? 
And thou hast something too to say of her,
What was’t? for now thou hast undone me quite.

Pis.  I have nought to say to her dishonour, Sir,
But something may be done may give you cause
To stand upon your Guard;
And if your Rage do not the mastery get,
I cannot doubt but what you’ll be happy yet.

Alcip.  Without Erminia that can hardly be,
And yet I find a certain shame within
That will not suffer me to see the Princess;
I have a kind of War within my Soul,
My Love against my Glory and my Honour;
And I could wish,—­alas, I know not what: 
Prithee instruct me.

Pis.  Sir, take a resolution to be calm,
And not like Men in love abandon Reason. 
—­You may observe the actions of these Lovers,
But be not passionate whate’er you find;
That headstrong Devil will undo us all;
If you’ll be happy, quit its company.

Alcip.  I fain would take thy counsel—­ [Pauses.

Pis.  Come, clear up, my Lord, and do not hang the head
Like Flowers in storms; the Sun will shine again. 
Set Galatea’s Charms before your Eyes,
Think of the Glory to divide a Kingdom;
And do not waste your noble Youth and Time
Upon a peevish Heart you cannot gain. 
This day you must to th’Camp, and in your absence
I’ll take upon me what I scorn’d last night,
The Office of a Spy—­
Believe me, Sir, for by the Gods I swear,
I never wish’d the glory of a Conquest
With half that zeal as to compose these differences.

Alcip.  I do believe thee, and will tell thee something That past between the Prince and I last night; And then thou wilt conclude me truly miserable.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Palace.

Enter Falatius, Labree, as passing by they meet Cleontius.

Cle.  Your Servant, my Lord.  —­So coldly, stay—­your reason, Sir.

[Fal. puts off his Hat a little, and passes on.

Fal.  How mean you, Sir?

Cle.  Do you not know me?

Fal.  Yes, I have seen you, and think you are Cleontius, A Servant of the Prince’s; wert i’th’ Campania too, If I mistake not.

Cle.  Can you recal me by no better instances?

Fal.  What need of any, pray?

Cle.  I am a Gentleman.

Fal.  Ha, Labree, what means he now? 
By Jove, I do not question it, Cleontius: 
What need this odd Punctilio? 
I call thee to no account.

Cle.  That’s more than I can say to you, Sir.

Fal.  I’ll excuse you for that.

Cle.  But shall not need, Sir; stay, I have a Sister.