DOMITILLA

Why how now Secretary, Whither so fast. What preethe. The King. So it seems. Pray my Lord. In your opinion, what should move the King To invite himself our guest, and bring the Duke Along with him; he used not to retire From hunting with this ceremony. 'Tis confessed And honour to us, and I hope you'll pardon A woman's curiosity. I thank your Lordship; I may now believe The court's removing hither; yet this language Might do you service to some other Lady And I release it willingly; your compliments I know my Lord are much worse for wearing Mine shall attend your Lordship. Not with our hearts to serve they, and their goodness Will excuse other want. I must not charge my self With so much ignorance to answer, that I understand not what it means; I know The word, but never could apply the senc , Or find it in a passion more then ordinary. Yes Madam. You have cause to fear I hope you're troubled. Mine deer Madam. I cannot each Your meaning. You would have me live a Virgin; a less fortune Would serve me for a Nun. You're my mother, And have so far by your example taught me, I Shall not need the precepts of your virtue, And let no thought of me take from your cheerfulness To entertain the King; we owe him duty, And that charm won't hurt us. It shall be still my study. I hope they will not Devour us my good Lord. So my Lord; here was a gentleman You could not choose but meet him spoke your dialect; I have forgotten his name, but he was some Great Lord. Where? So, so; Have you done now my young poetic Lord. And to no end you have spent all this breath; Allow all this were wit, that some did think us The creatures they commend (and those whom love Hath cursed into Idolatry and verse May perhaps die so) we do know our selves That we are no such things. And laugh at your Chimaeras. If this be your court practice, let me dwell With truth and plain simplicity. I cannot Sir forget you are the King, And in a Wilderness could have no thought With the least prejudice upon your virtue. Although it be not held a welcome compliment To our Sex, my duty bids me not dispute; I am fifteen my mother says. 'Tis language With which you are pl s'd to mock your humble handmaid. He would deserve To loose his eyes indeed if he should aim A shaft at me. To which no other Flame can approach; then what shall light it to Obedience of your will and my good mother's. Sir, I do love. To what? Most royal Sir I know not, with What words to say, you honour me; how can One so unworthy as poor Domitilla Be entertained within your thoughts and care In this high nature. I have a mother Sir. Not I Sir. Royal Sir, this language Must needs prepare a welcome; I should think My heart unlike another woman's, not To obey a charm so powerful as your praise; But when you are considered as my King, Duty takes off the merit of my will And humble every thought beneath obedience . Pardon I b seech you Sir, Conceal it yet; what gentle spirit walks Upon my blood; I dare not look upon him My Hope's my fears; it is enough great Sir, That you leave one within your thought, you would Commend to Domitilla, one you love, And precious to your bosom; sure you blessed him With such a Character. My heart is a false Prophet; 'tis a fate Too good and great for Domitilla. Why may not this be meant by his own person? More wonders have been read in story; I Find thick but amorous tremblings in my heart; He's King; why not? love has done stranger things, And can led captive the proud heart of Kings. Is't not plaaine You are gracious, and but encourage more to honour you You have ears that will betray what beast you are. Whats that? You may be out of fear; you cannot read now Nor set your name to a warrant. If you be and enemy to all preferment, Your best way is to leave the world and turn A lay Fryer. Why he shall Make nothing on thee take my word, or if Thou hast a mind I'll pray him make thee less. With whom dost think. Why how now Secretary. Is this wit natural? I preethe tell me Bombo, And tell me truth, do not you think your self After all this a fool? I'll speak thou mayest be the Kings fool. Be not so passionate. What then? 'Tis your humility. So, so, fear not, Have a strong faith, and thou mayest die i'th country For all this; here's my mother; let your care Be now that none may interrupt us. With pardon Madam you seem full of thought. Mother you cannot Mention the King in any act of his That is not glorious and Like himself; He is the great example of a King, But richer in his soul then state. He has some meaning in't. We sh ' not stain his Court; his sister's but A Lady of more distinction of birth; Yet all that have been Princes, came not to Their state by a de nt; the Heralds know Some were not born to purple and to sceptres That have been Queens; virtue has raised some, And beauty has had many charms to rule The heart of Kings. I Betray my S life, When I said beauty had a power to charm A King; it might acquit me from suspicion Of any hope to apply them so ambitiously; Yowl grant it just to love the King. And he may where he please place his affection, And she Thats marked for so great honour should be mad To quarrel with her kind fate. To me; why mother is't not possible A Lady not much fairer then my self May be a Queen; great Princes have eyes Like other men, and I should sin against What heaven and nature have bestowed on me, Should my fate smile to think my face would be The bar to such preferment. I would Eene recommend him to the King again. As a servant He may be entertained, and were I Queen ene, Perhaps he should be favourite to both; And I would smile upon his services In imitation of the King while he Preserved his modest duty and his distance: 'Tis a truth, Nor is Montolto yet my favourite. Admit him. You came not from the King with any message, You have no other suit to me? Speak it. Men must not love till they be one & twenty, They will be mad before they come to age else. I'll ask you but one question my Lord, What would you give to be the King of Naples? 'Tis modest: what if I cannot love under a Prince. No more of this; these praises Are made for children, and will make truth blush; They may fill up where nature is defective; And were I Queen of Naples I should punish Such flattery; but you are young and may Outgrow this vanity. I shall be ever so to you Octavio, Let this encourage you to think I love you In the first place, of those which are born Subject's; If you will answer my respects forbear To question further. And if my power may Prevail to do you favour with the King, Make your address. Me thinks I move upon a state already And yet 'tis not the glory of his title Affects my hope so much; his person's lovely, And both together make the charm; I do Expect his royal presence; how shall I Behave my looks when he declares himself, Admit not every Lord to trouble m ; I will take physic; but I'll be observed; You may frame some excuse to Ladies too That press their visit. The Duke. Princes must not be neglected; That name gives him access; say I attend. Your excellence is pleased to interpret fairly Of our intents. It can be no dishonour To take these from a Prince. The King with wings, I'll haste to meet him, You are bounty Sir it self, and bind A Virgins prayers. I Obey Not speak to me; he frowned too; sure I have not Displeased him; wherefore stays the Princess? Your grace does honour your unworthy servan ; And if I might beseech one favour more, 'Tis but to know what has displeased the King. Pardon Why does your grace put on those angry looks; I never did offend you in a thought. Madam. Hear me. I know not by what genius prompt worser Madam, To live or die, more happily, I have no Fear of your rage, which is so far from making Me sin against my love, it has enlarged My heart, which trembles not to be loves martyr; I can forgive your hand too, if you promise To tell the King how willing I die for him. He's not concerned In my affection; I have no thought Of any Prince alive, but your own brother; Such and example of loves folly have My stars decreed me; yet if pride and duty May in one Actium meet and be good friends, Both shall assist my last breath which shall offer Humbly the King, and his affairs to heaven This he will pardon, shall he know it done By me more fit to die then live for him. It is the King you speak of; pray be careful You speak all goodness of him, he deserves it, And will when I am dead. I dare not say the King dissembles with me; That were a fault beyond my love; but sure Something he said that made my heart believe He did not mean me for another; and Montalto, whose reward I must be thought, Is now confined, and under his displeasure. And if he should despise me as 'tis justice, Will heaven be angry if I love him still; Or will the King call it a treason in me? If he do, I can willingly die for't, And with may last words pray he may live happy; But why am I this trouble to your grace? My story is not worth one of your minutes; Dear Madam pardon me, and teach me how To make my time more happy, spent in something That may concern your highness; you do love too. Why does he visit me? Madam indeed You may believe I love him not. I shall against my own desires obey you. Your graces pardon, if my haste to attend The King and his commands made me appear Rude when I left your excellence. I know not how I may Stand guilty in your thoughts by keeping a Rich Caskanet. But with a blush I must remember too I did not thank you; there was want of time Or manners; I must leave it to your mercy, And would by any duty to your grace Expiate my error. Bless your grace from such a meaning. I never had The confidence to look upon a wound; And such a bleeding object as your heart Would fright my senses. You cannot Sir, you dare not. You dare not be so wicked I am am sure When you remember, what you are, a Prince. Or if you could dispense with so much passion To love me, and durst give me, what I tremble To think you promise, that, that very act In which you most advance affection to me, Would make me think you love me not. How should I think his courtship worth my trust, And meet him with a real change of hearts, Who in his very first attempt of love, Would blast my honour, and betray me to A shame, black as the tongue of infamy. And more; For you in this Would tempt me to and act, by which I should Not only wound my self to death of honour, But make me guilty of another's blood, And kill and innocent Lady, whose least tear Is worth a thousand lives of perjured men That make a scorn of virtue. Have you forgotten the Princess Sir? In that name yowl find your self again Lost in a missed of passion; o think The fame's and Hope's of two rich countries are Engaged upon your faith; your highness pardon, I find some blushes chide my too much boldness, And by a nearer view now of your goodness, I see my error to believe you meant Other then tri ll of me, or could fallen To any thought beneath your birth and honour. If the Princess, which I must not think, give your heart back again, And that you could quit all your ties with honour, My thoughts are all resigned to the Kings will; He must dispose of me, by my own vow, Without his free conlent never to marry. Are you the King of Naples. Are you Sir in earnest? I dare Not understand this language can the King Be impious; how was my opinion cozened Sin hath deformed his very shape; his voice Hath now no harmony. Pardon I beseech you; I have found my error. I did consent Too soon to my captivity, Though modesty would not allow me strength To tell you so; but you have Sir, by what My found thoughts never did expect, relieved me, to make me know my self; and now preserving That duty which I owe you as my King, I call love back again, and can look on Your lustest with a becoming scorn. Yes, and were Naples, Room, and all the wealth Of Italy laid down, the great temptation, Thus I would spurn their glories. Sir give Me leave to go while I have power to pray for you, Where was I lost? is there no friend to goodness; Have I contracted such a leprous form That I have lost all men's defence and charity. Let not your displeasure Great Sir fallen upon him; revenge what you Call disobedience here. My Lord you now deserve I should Be whom with the hazard of the Kings Anger, and your own life you have defended; There is a spring of honour here, and too it that presence of the King, his Court and Heaven, dare now give my heart; nor is't without My duty to a promise.