in rage at what I've said,
Do you think I love you, or believe my life
Were to be valued more than your repose?
You seem to think it is not.

_Phi_. Possibly I may.

_Alcan_. The sin of what I have propos'd to you
You only seem to hate: Sir, is it so?
--If such religious thoughts about you dwell,
Why is it that you thus perplex your self?
Self-murder sure is much the greater sin.
_Erminia_ too you say has broke her Vows,
She that will swear and lye, will do the rest.
And of these evils, this I think the least;
And as for me, I never thought it sin.

_Phi_. And canst thou have so poor a thought of her?

_Alcan_. I hope you'll find her, Sir, as willing to't
As I am to suppose it; nay, believe't,
She'll look upon't as want of Love and Courage
Should you not now attempt it;
You know, Sir, there's no other remedy,
Take no denial, but the Game pursue,
For what she will refuse, she wishes you.

_Phi_. With such pretensions--she may angry grow.

_Alcan_. I never heard of any that were so,
For though the will to do't, and power they want,
They love to hear of what they cannot grant.

_Phi_. No more,
Is this your duty to your Prince, _Alcander_?
You were not wont to counsel thus amiss,
'Tis either Disrespect or some Design;
I could be wondrous angry with thee now,
But that my Grief has such possession here,
'Twill make no room for Rage.

_Alcan_. I cannot, Sir, repent of what I've said,
Since all the errors which I have committed
Are what my passion to your interest led me to,
But yet I beg your Highness would recal
That sense which would persuade you 'tis unjust.

_Phi_. Name it no more, and I'll forgive it thee.

_Alcan_. I can obey you, Sir.

_Phi_. What shall we do to night, I cannot sleep.

_Alcan_. I'm good at watching, and doing any thing.

_Phi_. We'll serenade the Ladies and the Bride.
--The first we may disturb, but she I fear
Keeps watch with me to night, though not like me.

_Enter a_ Page _of the_ Prince's.

_Phi_. How now, Boy,
Is the Musick ready which I spoke for?

_Page_. They wait your Highness's command.

_Phi_. Bid them prepare, I'm coming. [_Ex. Page_.
Soft touches may allay the Discords here,
And sweeten, though not lessen my Despair.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE V. _The Court Gallery_.

_Enter_ Pisaro _alone_.

_Pis_. Ha! who's that? a Lover, on my life,
This amorous malady reigns every where;
Nor can my Sister be an ign