SCENE VI.

A Bed-chamber.

Discovers Erminia, Philander sitting on the Bed, to them Isillia, a Sword and Hat on the Table.

Isil. Ah,
Madam,
Alcippus.

Er. Alcippus, where?

Isil. I left him in a quarrel with Alcander,
And hear him coming up.

Er. For Heaven’s sake, Sir, submit to be conceal’d.

Phi. Not for the world, Erminia,
My Innocence shall be my guard and thine.

Er. Upon my knees I’ll beg you’ll be conceal’d, [A noise. He comes;
Philander, for my safety go.

Phi. I never did obey with more regret.

[He hides himself behind the Bed, and in haste leaves his Sword and Hat on the Table;
Alcippus comes in.

Alcip. How now, Erminia? How comes it you are up so late?

Er. I found my self not much inclin’d to sleep; I hope ’tis no offence. Why do you look so wildly round about you?

Alcip. Methinks, Erminia, you are much confus’d.

Er. Alas, you cannot blame me;
Isillia tells me you were much inrag’d Against a Lover she was entertaining.

Alcip. A Lover — was that a time for Courtship? Such Actions,
Madam, will reflect on you.

   [Isillia goes to take the Hat and Sword and slide
    into her lap, which he sees, calls to her
.

 — What have you there,
Isillia?
Come back, and let me see what ’tis.
                      [He takes them from her.
 — Ha — a Sword and Hat — Erminia, whose be these?

Er. Why do you ask —

Alcip. To be inform’d, is that so great a wonder?

Er. They be my Father’s, Sir—

Alcip. Was that well said, Erminia? — speak again.

Er. What is’t you would know?

Alcip. The truth, Erminia, ’twould become you best.
Do you think I take these things to be your Father’s?
No, treacherous Woman, I have seen this Sword,
                                        [Draws the Sword.
Worn by a Man more vigorous than thy Father,
It had not else been here.
 — Where have you hid this mighty Man of valour?
Have you exhausted so his stock of Courage,
He has not any left t’appear withal?

Phi. Yes, base Alcippus, I have still that Courage,
Th’effects of which thou hast beheld with wonder;
And now being fortified by Innocence,
Thou’t find sufficient to chastise thy boldness:
Restore my Sword, and prove the truth of this.

Alcip. I’ve hardly so much Calmness left to answer thee,
And tell thee,
Prince, thou art deceiv’d in me.
 — I know ’tis just I should restore thy Sword,
But thou hast show’d the basest of thy play,
And I’ll return th’uncivil Treachery;
You merit Death for this base Injury.
But you’re my Prince, and that I own you so,
Is all remains in me of Sense or Justice;
The rest is Rage, which if thou gett’st not hence
Will eat up that small morsel too of Reason,
And leave me nothing to preserve thy life with.

Phi. Gods, am I tame, and hear the Traytor brave me? [Offers to run into him. I have resentment left, though nothing else.

Alcip. Stand off, by all that’s good, I’ll kill thee else.
                                 [Er. puts her self between.

Er. Ah, hold, Sir, hold, the Prince has no defence,
And you are more than arm’d; [To Alcip.
What honour is’t to let him murder you? [To the Prince.
 — Nor would your Fame be lessen’d by retreat.

Phi. Alas, I dare not leave thee here with him.

Er. Trust me, Sir, I can make him calm again.

Alcip. She counsels well, and I advise you take it.

Phi. I will, but not for fear of thee or Death,
But from th’assurance that her Power’s sufficient
To allay this unbecoming Fury in thee,
And bring thee to repentance.

   [He gives him his Sword;
Philander goes out,
    Alcippus locks the door after him.

Er. Alcippus, what do you mean?

Alcip. To know where ’twas you learn’d this Impudence? Which you’re too cunning in,
Not to have been a stale practitioner.

Er. Alas, what will you do?

Alcip. Preserve thy Soul, if thou hast any sense Of future Joys, after this vile damn’d Action.

Er. Ah, what have I done?

Alcip. That which if I should let thee live, Erminia,
Would never suffer thee to look abroad again.
 — Thou’st made thy self and me —
Oh, I dare not name the Monsters. —
But I’ll destroy them while the Gods look down,
And smile upon my Justice.

[He strangles her with a Garter, which he snatches from his Leg, or smothers her with a pillow.

Er. Hold, hold, and hear my Vows of Innocence.

Alcip. Let me be damn’d as thou art, if I do;
            [Throws her on a Bed, he sits down in a Chair.
 — So now, my Heart, I have redeem’d thee nobly,
Sit down and pause a while —
But why so still and tame, is one poor Murder
Enough to satisfy thy storm of Passion?
If it were just, it ought not here to end;
 — If not — I’ve done too much —

[One knocks, he rises after a little pause, and opens the door; enter Page.

Page. My Lord,
Pisaro

Alcip. Pisaro, — Oh, that Name has wakened me, A Name till now had never Terror in’t! — I will not speak with him.

Page. My Lord, he’s here. [Page goes out.

Enter Pisaro.

Pis. Not speak with me! nay then I fear the worst.

Alcip. Not for the world,
Pisaro

[Hides his face with his hand,
Pis. sees Erminia.

Pis. Thy guilt is here too plain, I need not read it in thy blushing face,
She’s dead and pale: Ah, sweet Erminia!

Alcip. If she be dead, the fitter she’s for me,
She’ll now be coy no more, nor cry I cannot love,
And frown and blush, when I but kiss her hand:
Now I shall read no terror in her Eyes,
And what is better yet, shall ne’er be jealous.

Pis. Why didst thou make such haste to be undone?
Had I detain’d thee but an hour longer,
Thou’dst been the only happy of thy Sex.
 — I knew thou didst dissemble when we parted,
And therefore durst not trust thee with thy Passions:
I only staid to gather from my Sister
What news I might concerning your affairs,
Which I with joy came to impart to you,
But most unfortunately came too late:
Why didst thou yield obedience to that Devil,
Which urg’d thee to destroy this Innocent?

Alcip. Pisaro, do not err;
I found the Prince and she alone together,
He all disorder’d like a Ravisher,
Loose and unbutton’d for the amorous play;
O that she had another Life to lose!

Pis. You wrong her most inhumanly, you do;
Her Blood, yet sensible of the injury,
Flows to her face to upbraid thy Cruelty.
 — Where dost thou mean, bad Man, to hide thy head?
Vengeance and Justice will pursue thee close,
And hardly leave thee time for Penitence.
 — What will the Princess say to this return
You’ve made to all the offers she has sent
This Night by Prince Philander?

Alcip. Oh, when you name the Princess and Philander,
Such different Passions do at once possess me,
As sink my over-laden Soul to Hell.
 — Alas, why do I live? ’tis losing time;
For what is Death, a pain that’s sooner ended
Than what I felt from every frown of hers?
 — It was but now that lovely thing had Life,
Could speak and weep, and had a thousand Charms,
That had oblig’d a Murder, and Madness’t self
To’ve been her tame Adorers.
Yet now should even her best belov’d, the Prince,
With all his Youth, his Beauties and Desires,
Fall at her Feet, and tell his tale of Love,
She hardly would return his amorous Smiles,
Or pay his meeting Kisses back again;
Is not that fine,
Pisaro?

Pis. Sir, ’tis no time to talk in, come with me,
For here’s no safety for a Murderer.

Alcip. I will not go, alas I seek no Safety.

Pis. I will not now dispute that vain reply,
But force you to security.

[Pisaro draws him out, the Scene closes.