ut that is all.--

_Cand_. O my dear Philocles!
A thousand blessings wait on thee!
The hope of being thine, I think, will put
Me past my meat and sleep with ecstasy,
So I shall keep the fasts of seraphims,
And wake for joy, like nightingales in May.

_Phil_. Wake, Philocles, wake from thy dream of
glory,
'Tis all but shadow to Candiope:
Canst thou betray a love so innocent? [_Aside_.

_Cand_. What makes you melancholick? I doubt,
I have displeased you.

_Phil_. No, my love, I am not displeased with you,
But with myself, when I consider,
How little I deserve you.

_Cand_. Say not so, my Philocles; a love so true as yours,
That would have left a court, and a queen's favour,
To live in a poor hermitage with me,--

_Phil_. Ha! she has stung me to the quick!
As if she knew the falsehood I intended:
But, I thank heaven, it has recall'd my virtue;
[_Aside_.
Oh! my dear, I love you, and you only; [_To her_.
Go in, I have some business for a while;
But I think minutes ages till we meet.

_Cand_. I knew you had; but yet I could not chuse,
But come and look upon you. [_Exit_ CANDIOPE.

_Phil_. What barbarous man would wrong so sweet a virtue!

_Enter the Queen in black, with_ ASTERIA.

Madam, the states are straight to meet; but why
In these dark ornaments will you be seen?

_Queen_. They fit the fortune of a captive queen.

_Phil_. Deep shades are thus to heighten colours set;
So stars in night, and diamonds shine in jet.

_Queen_. True friends should so in dark afflictions shine,
But I have no great cause to boast of mine.

_Phil_. You may have too much prejudice for some,
And think them false, before their trials come.
But, madam, what determine you to do?

_Queen_. I came not here to be advised by you:
But charge you, by that power which once you owned,
And which is still my right, even when unthroned,
That whatsoe'er the states resolve of me,
You never more think of Candiope.

_Phil_. Not think of her! ah, how should I obey!
Her tyrant eyes have forced my heart away.

_Queen_. By force retake it from those tyrant eyes,
I'll grant you out my letters of reprise.

_Phil_. She has too well prevented that design,
By giving me her heart, in change for mine.

_Queen_. Thus foolish Indians gold for glass forego;
'Twas to your loss you prized your heart so low.
I set its value when you were advanced,
And as my favours grew, its rate enhanced.

_Phil_. The rate of subjects' hearts by yours must go