Do you not glory
in your Conquest more,
To take some great
man Prisoner, than to kill him?
And shall a Lady
find less mercy from you,
That yields her
self your Captive, and for her Ransome,
Will give the
Jewel of her life, her heart,
Which she hath
lockt from all men but thy self?
For shame (Antinous)
throw this dulness off;
Art thou a man
no where but in the field?
277]
Hyparcha:
He must hear Drums,
and Trumpets ere he sleeps,
And at this instant
dreams he’s in his Armour;
These iron-hearted
Souldiers are so cold,
Till they be beaten
to a Womans Arms,
And then they
love ’em better than their own;
No Fort can hold
them out.
Antinous:
What pity it is
(Madam) that your self,
Who are all Excellence,
should become so wretched,
To think on such
a Wretch as Grief hath made me!
Seldome despairing
men look up to Heaven,
Although it still
speak to ’em in its Glories;
For when sad thoughts
perplex the mind of man,
There is a Plummet
in the heart that weighs,
And pulls us (living)
to the dust we came from;
Did you but see
the miseries you pursue,
(As I the happiness
that I avoid
That doubles my
afflictions) you would flye
Unto some Wilderness,
or to your Grave,
And there find
better Comforts than in me,
For Love and Cares
can never dwell together.
Erota:
They should,
If thou hadst
but my Love and I thy Cares.
Antinous:
What wild Beast
in the Desart but would be
Taught by this
Tongue to leave his Cruelty,
Though all the
beauties of the face were vail’d!
But I am savager
than any Beast,
And shall be so
till Decius does arrive,
Whom with so much
submission I have sent
Under my hand,
that if he do not bring
His Benediction
back, he must to me
Be much more cruel
than I to you.
Erota:
Is’t but your Fathers pardon you desire?
Antinous:
With his love, and then nothing next that, like yours.
[Enter Decius]
Erota:
Decius is come.
Antinous:
O welcome Friend;
if I apprehend not
Too much of joy,
there’s comfort in thy looks.
Erota:
There is indeed; I prithee Decius speak it.
Decius:
How! prithee Decius! this Woman’s strangely alter’d. 278]
Antinous:
Why dost not speak
(good friend) and tell me how
The reverend Blessing
of my life receiv’d
My humble lines;
wept he for joy?
Decius: