O' my conscience, an embassage from some of your kind mistresses, that would fain take their leaves, before you go to captivity.

Erg. Is't possible?

Phil. She desires you to see her, and believe that ambition cannot gain more upon her than your affection.

Erg. Take this ring, and this.

Phil. I dare not, sir.

Erg. I'll pay thy dowry then within this half-hour: I'll wait on her. [Exit Phillida.

Cle. From what part of the town came this fair day in a cloud, that makes you look so cheerfully?

Erg. Alas, gentlemen! I was born to know nothing of love but sighs and despairs. I can be servant to none that can have the election of two.

Cle. Unriddle, unriddle.

Erg. 'Twas the servant of Hermione that came to have me wait upon her lady.

Cle. Phormio, what do you think of this?

Phor. I won't think at all, for fear I judge amiss. The mazes of a woman are so intricate, no precept can secure us. Yet this I'm resolved on: she will not love you.

Cle. Why sent she for him, then?

Phil. If I should weep, as my lady does, for all the servants I have lost!

Ire. Thou wouldst weep in thy grave, Phillida; yet the worst is, thou wilt lose more within this seven years than thou hast got in ten; for men are changeable, sweet Phillida.

Phil. And our faces were not, 'twere no matter. They should make haste, or we should overtake them, or prevent them. A commodity of beauty, that would last forty years, would bear a good price, madam.

Ire. By Venus, would it, Phillida! as high as that of honour.

Phil. But is not my lady a strange woman to weep thus for one servant, when she has another in his place? For my part, I could never find such differences in men—to be sad when I had any.

Ire. And thy word may be taken as soon as any wench's in Greece, or there be slanderers in the world. But she affects constancy.

Phil. Some ill-favoured woman, that meant to preserve her last purchase, which her want of beauty forfeited, invented that name.

Ire. Thou'rt in the right, Phillida; this inconstancy is a monster without teeth, for it devours none, makes no son wear happy mourning, nor mother childless: and, for my part, I am of opinion that the gods give a blessing to it; for none live happier than those that have greatest abundance of it.

Phil. What is got by this whining constancy, but the loss of that beauty for one servant, which would procure us the vows, [the] sacrifice, and service of a thousand?

Ire. Enough of this; wert thou with Ergasto?

Phil. Yes, and told him that my lady sent for him: but to what intent did you make me lie?

Ire. Thou art so good-natured, that thou wilt pardon such a trifle for one reason; but I have two: the first is, I would fain speak with him; the other, knowing my cousin to be in an ill humour, if he press to see her, I hope she will give him such an answer, that he shall never dare to speak to her more.

Phil. These men have less reason than mice: they would know else how to shift places, and shelter themselves from a storm. If I were a man, and lost the happiness of seeing my mistress two days, I should lose the desire the third. [Aside.] Do you sigh, madam? You are in love too.

Ire. As far as goes to sighing, but no dying, for their breeches.

Phil. I'll be your compurgator for the handle of a fan; I know love has brought many into the world, but let out none. Has he pierced you, ha?

Ire. O no, my skin was always proof against his dart; but he once found me laughing, and so thrust it down to my heart.

Phil. Look to it, though 'tis but a little weapon, yet I have known it make greater swellings than the sting of a bee. Do you long for a man?

Ire. Yes, a husbandman, and let the gods after take care for my children.

Phil. You'll find enou' to do it: is the Moor still with my lady?

Ire. I left her with her.

Phil. 'Tis a shame such people should be suffered near the Court.

Ire. Why, prythee?

Phil. As 'tis, there be so many inquisitive rascals, that we have much ado to keep matters secret; but if in despite of our care they be divulged, we shall be defamed on the Exchanges.

Ire. Thou hast reason, but she is secret as the night she resembles.

Phil. Is she? I would fain ask her one question: but 'tis no matter: 'tis but taking physic at the worst.

Ire. If thou talk'st a little longer, I shall guess as much as she knows. But who's here?

Phor. Ne'er fright me with the lightning of her eyes; on me she may open or shut her eyes as she please, but my happiness is not at her disposing.

Cle. If thou provest a lover, my next song is begun.

Phor. I will not deny but I may love her, if she please. But if she be not pleased with my love, if it continue two hours, I'll give her leave to tie me to her monkey.

Cle. Look, Ergasto has found two of the ladies, and has set his face to begin to them.

Phor. In verse or prose?

Cle. We shall hear, if we draw nearer. A good evening, ladies!

Ire. We thank you, my lords; but if we were superstitious, your company were no good omen.

Phor. Why, I beseech you?

Ire. Nay, I am no expositor; you come, my lord, to see my cousin Hermione.

Erg. I do, madam, and should be proud to hear I live in her memory.

Ire. Can you doubt it? I'll assure you you do; she's never troubled with anything, but you presently are called into the comparison with it; her teeth cannot ache, but she swears it is almost as great a vexation as your love: if any die, out of her pity to save the tears of a few mourners, she wishes it were you.

Erg. If I heard her desire it, she should quickly have her wish.

Ire. She would be glad on't, o' my conscience, though the scruple, of having you do anything for her sake would trouble her a little; yet I can teach you to make advantage of all this.

Phor. What advantage, my delicate sweet lady?

Ire. A very great one; for, first, I believe he desires nothing more than to be assured she esteems him for her servant.

Phor. Right; but does this usage show it?

Ire. Most evidently; for, being thus severe to none else, 'tis manifest she confesseth a power over him, and pays his services with this coin of scorn and contempt, and having her stamp upon't, he is bound to accept it.

Cle. What think you of this, Phormio?

Phor. A most excellent girl! would she were poor.

Cle. Why poor?

Phor. She would live rarely by her——

Cle. What?

Phor. Wit! I would be a good customer.

Ire. 'Twould please you to hear with what arguments she justifies this cruelty, and swears it is not revenge enough for spoiling her good nature.

Erg. I spoil her good nature?

Phor. Nay, let her go on; I'll hearken an age.

Ire. Yes, you, by suff'ring her undeserved scorn, have bred such a delight and habit of it in her, that she can hardly forbear it when she strives to be complaisant to her best friends; and, to say truth, we are all endangered by such as you, when we see that frowns procure us knees, and kind usage scarce gets us two good-morrows.

Phor. If ever there were a Sybil at sixteen, this lady is one. By this day, you have a high place in my heart.

Ire. In your heart!

Phor. Nay, despise it not, you'll find good company there.

Ire. But I love to be alone.

Phor. And I would fain meet you when you are so. Will you give me leave to speak with your scholar? [Hermione and Acanthe above.

Ire. If you be his friend, teach him to be wise.

Phor. For your sake, I will do all I can. Ergasto, wilt thou be happy? Marry this lady! Wilt thou be revenged on thy proud mistress? Marry her! Wilt thou be sure to father wise children? Do as I bid thee.

Erg. I will deal truly with thee: she has taken my heart out of Hermione's keeping.

Phor. Be thankful, and bestow it upon her in recompense; she will accept it, doubt not; she has taken such pains to redeem it. Look how she casts her eyes upon thee! She's thine own for ever, and has been long.

Erg. I am desperately in love.

Phor. Marry, and get out of it; there may be some little straining at the first offer of the present; but if she send not for it before you get home, I'll ne'er trust my eyes more.

Erg. I'll attempt it, let what will follow.

Phor. Be confident, and prosper.

Erg. Madam, what would you expect from him you had redeemed from captivity?

Ire. The disposing of his liberty.

Erg. 'Tis just; but this may be no great favour to the slave, if his misery be only altered, not lessened.

Phor. You are little curious! Why do you not ask who this concerns? Well, I'll tell you; you have redeemed Ergasto, and he kneels to know your commands.

Moor. You may believe her, madam, she loves him; now you may revenge her, persuading you to leave Eugenio, by smiling on Ergasto; 'twill advance your cousin's ends too, if you do as I'll advise you, whilst we descend.

Ire. 'Tis festival to-day, my lords, and so I admit this mirth. But to-morrow, I will tell you, I am no more inclined to love than my cousin Hermione.

Erg. But you can suffer yourself to be beloved?

Ire. I think I can.

Phor. He'll ask no more, but leave the rest to his respects and services.

Ire. But you consider not whom you may offend in this mirth.

Erg. I'll ne'er consider whom I offend in loving you: I wish her beauty centupled, that my first obligation to you might be leaving her. By this fair hand, I'll never name any but you for mistress.

Ire. I may believe you when time and your actions shall tell it me as well as your words.

Phor. You wrong your beauty to expect an assurance from time. Ordinary faces require it to perfect the impressions they make; yours strikes like lightning in an instant. If he did not adore you till now, you must attribute it to some fascination; but, his judgment cleared, he will be forced to continue the adoration he has begun.

Phor. Who's that?

Erg. The Moor you heard of.

Phor. I have a strange capricio of love entered me: I must court that shade.

Her. How now, my lord! Courting another mistress! I see I must lock up my winds, or you will seek the nearest harbour.

Erg. Excluded by your rigour, madam, I was entreating your fair cousin to present my vows.

Her. Was it no more?

Erg. No more! you cannot doubt it, madam. Turn in your eyes upon your beauties and perfections, and they will tell you how impossible it is to lose the empire they have gained upon our hearts and wills. Fortune and want of merit may make me lose the hope of your fair graces, but never so much traitor as to pay homage to any other beauty, or change the resolution I have fixed to be your servant only.

Her. I thank you, sir; my sex will be my pardon if I return not equal thanks. We think, if any manumit, before we license them to part, they do usurp a power is ours by nature. The posture I found you in was more than ordinary courtship gives.

Erg. You might condemn it, had not you been the cause on't. I ne'er think of your name but with a reverence great as I pay the gods; and they allow us bending to their images when we transfer our vows. The fair Irene is worthy all have not the hope of you; but whilst you give me leave to cherish that ambition, I must not own so great an injury as to admit the proffered love of those who are so distant from your merit.

Her. 'Twas unkindly done to undermine me.

Erg. In her presence I will confirm this to you.

Her. You shall oblige me, since she has wronged me; Irene, hark you.

Phor. In the name of darkness, d'ye think I am not in earnest, that you coy it thus?

Moor. Forbear; uncivil lord. [She goes from him.

Cle. Dost thou not see that all the fire is out of the coal? If thou wouldst have it burn, lay thy lips to the spark that's left, and blow it into flame.

Phor. What wouldst thou have me do?

Cle. Kiss her.

Phor. Not for five hundred crowns.

Cle. Wouldst lie with her, and not kiss her?

Phor. Yes, and can give reasons for't, besides experience; and when this act is known—this resolute encounter, rich widows of threescore will not doubt my prowess.

Erg. A precipice, as being ashamed to live any longer.

Phor. A halter you shall as soon! Come, come, I'll intercede, and be your surety. Look, she stays to pardon you; down on your knees.

Phor. O my sweet lady! be merciful, like the gods you resemble. They have as often pardon in their hands as thunder; and the truth is, if they will not forgive this fault of inconstancy, they must live alone, or at least without men. This was the last gasp of his dying friendship to her; and now he is entirely yours.

Ire. He has not wronged me.

Phor. Fie! say not so; that's as great an injury as not pardoning him: he has, and shall come naked to receive his punishment. See, he dares not look for comfort; let him take it in at his ears.

Ire. Pray content yourself with the time you have made me lose, and let me go.

Phor. Never, till you pardon him.

Ire. I will do anything for my release; if he has offended me, let him learn hereafter to speak truer than he swears; and in time he may get credit.

Phor. 'Tis enough.

Erg. Is she gone?

Phor. Yes.

Erg. How did she look?

Phor. Faith, ashamed; she loved you so well, and sorry she had no reason to love you better.

Erg. 'Tis an excellent lady.

Phor. If I could make jointures, I would not take this pains for your honour. Cleon, whither slip you?

Cle. After Phillida.

Phor. And what success?

Cle. Pox on't! these waiting-women will not deal, unless they have earnest in their hands, and I was unprovided.

Phor. Away, unthrift![361] [Exeunt.