Queen.  What does he mean, Asteria?  I do not understand him.

Ast.  Your majesty forgets, you banished him Your presence for this day. [To her softly.

Queen.  Ha! banished him! ’tis true indeed; But, as thou sayest, I had forgot it quite.

Ast.  That’s very strange, scarce half an hour ago.

Queen.  But love had drawn his pardon up so soon, That I forgot he e’er offended me.

Phil.  Pardon me, that I could not thank you sooner; Your sudden grace, like some swift flood poured in On narrow banks, o’erflowed my spirits.

Queen.  No:  ’tis for me to ask your pardon, Philocles,
For the great injury I did you,
In not remembering I was angry with you: 
But I’ll repair my fault,
And rouse my anger up against you yet.

Phil.  No, madam, my forgiveness was your act of grace, And I lay hold of it.

Queen.  Princes sometimes may pass Acts of oblivion, in their own wrong.

Phil.  ’Tis true, but not recal them.

Queen.  But, Philocles, since I have told you there is one
I love, I will go on, and let you know
What passed this day betwixt us; be our judge,
Whether my servant have dealt well with me.

Phil.  I beseech your majesty, excuse me: 
Any thing more of him may make me
Relapse too soon, and forfeit my late pardon.

Queen.  But you’ll be glad to know it.

Phil.  May I not hope, then, You have some quarrel to him?

Queen.  Yes, a great one. 
But first to justify myself: 
Know, Philocles, I have concealed my passion
With such care from him, that he knows not yet
I love, but only that I much esteem him.

Phil.  O stupid wretch, That, by a thousand tokens, could not guess it!

Queen.  He loves elsewhere, and that has blinded him.

Phil.  He’s blind indeed! 
So the dull beasts in the first paradise,
With levelled eyes, gazed each upon their kind;
There fixed their love, and ne’er looked up to view
That glorious creature man, their sovereign lord.

Queen.  Y’are too severe on little faults; but he
Has crimes, untold,
Which will, I fear, move you much more against him. 
He fell this day into a passion with me,
And boldly contradicted all I said.

Phil.  And stands his head upon his shoulders yet?  How long shall this most insolent—­

Queen.  Take heed you rail not; You know you are but on your good behaviour.

Phil.  Why then I will not call him traitor,
But only rude, audacious, and impertinent,
To use his sovereign so—­I beg your leave
To wish, you have at least imprisoned him.

Queen.  Some people may speak ill, and yet mean well: 
Remember you were not confined; and yet
Your fault was great.  In short, I love him,
And that excuses all; but be not jealous;
His rising shall not be your overthrow,
Nor will I ever marry him.