Amal. "Tis as physicians show the desperate ill, To endear their art, by mitigating pains They cannot wholly cure: When you despair Of all you wish, some part of it, because Unhoped for, may be grateful; and some other Leon. What other?

Amal. Some other may

My shame again has seized me, and I can go [Aside. No farther.

Leon. These often failing sighs and interruptions Make me imagine you have grief like mine: Have you ne'er loved?

Amal. I never!-Tis in vain:

I must despair in silence.

[Aside.

Leon. You come, as I suspected then. to mock, At least observe, my griefs: Take it not ill, That I must leave you.

[Is going. Amal. You must not go with these unjust opi

nions.

Command my life and fortunes: you are wise;
Think, and think well, what I can do to serve you.
Leon. I have but one thing in my thoughts and
wishes:

If, by your means, I can obtain the sight
Of my adored Palmyra; or, what's harder,
One minute's time, to tell her, I die hers-

[She starts back.

I see I am not to expect it from you;
Nor could, indeed, with reason.

Amal. Name any other thing! Is Amalthea
So despicable, she can serve your wishes.

In this alone?

Leon. If I should ask of heaven,

I have no other suit.

Amal. To show you, then, I can deny you nothing,

Though 'tis more hard to me than any other,
Yet I will do it for you.

Leon. Name quickly, name the means! speak, my good angel!

Amal. Be not so much o'erjoyed; for, if you are, I'll rather die than do't. This night the court Will be in masquerade;

You shall attend on me; in that disguise
You may both see and speak to her,

If you dare venture it.

Leon. Yes; were a god her guardian,

And bore in each hand thunder, I would venture. Amal. Farewell, then; two hours hence I will ex

pect you:

My heart's so full, that I can stay no longer.

[Exit. Leon. Already it grows dusky: I'll prepare With haste for my disguise. But who are these?

Enter HERMOGENES and EUBULUS.

Her. Tis he; we need not fear to speak to him. Eub. Leonidas?

Leon. Sure I have known that voice.

Her. You have some reason, sir: 'tis Eubulus, Who bred you with the princess; and, departing, Bequeathed you to my care.

Leon. My foster-father! let my knees express My joys for your return!

Eub. Rise, sir; you must not kneel.
Leon. E'er since you left me,

I have been wandering in a maze of fate,
Led by false fires of a fantastic glory,
And the vain lustre of imagined crowns.

[Kneeling.

But, ah! why would you leave me? or how could you Absent yourself so long?

Eub. I'll give you a most just account of both: And something more I have to tell you, which

I know must cause your wonder; but this place,
Though almost hid in darkness, is not safe.
Already I discern some coming towards us
[Torches appear.

With lights, who may discover me. Hermogenes,
Your lodgings are hard by, and much more private.
Her. There you may freely speak.

Leon. Let us make haste;

For some affairs, and of no small importance,
Call me another way.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter PALAMEDE and RHODOPHIL, with Vizor Masques in their Hands, and Torches before them.

Pala. We shall have noble sport to-night, Rhodophil; this masquerading is a most glorious inven

tion.

Rho. I believe it was invented first by some jealous lover, to discover the haunts of his jilting mistress; or, perhaps, by some distressed servant, to gain an opportunity with a jealous man's wife.

Pala. No, it must be the invention of a woman, it has so much of subtilty and love in it.

Rho. I am sure 'tis extremely pleasant; for to go unknown, is the next degree to going invisible.

Pala. What with our antic habits and feigned voices,-Do you know me? and—I know you,-methinks we move and talk just like so many overgrown puppets.

Rho. Masquerade is only vizor-mask improved; a heightening of the same fashion.

Pala. No, masquerade is vizor-mask in debauch, and I like it the better for't: for, with a vizor-mask, we fool ourselves into courtship, for the sake of an eye that glanced; or a hand that stole itself out of the glove sometimes, to give us a sample of the

skin: But in masquerade there is nothing to be known, she's all terra incognita; and the bold discoverer leaps ashore, and takes his lot among the wild Indians and savages, without the vile consideration of safety to his person, or of beauty, or wholesomeness in his mistress.

Enter BELIZA.

Rho. Beliza, what make you here?

Bel. Sir, my lady sent me after you, to let you know, she finds herself a little indisposed; so that she cannot be at court, but is retired to rest in her own apartment, where she shall want the happiness of your dear embraces to night.

Rho. A very fine phrase, Beliza, to let me know my wife desires to lie alone.

Pala. I doubt, Rhodophil, you take the pains sometimes to instruct your wife's woman in these elegancies.

Rho. Tell my dear lady, that since I must be so unhappy as not to wait on her to-night, I will lament bitterly for her absence. Tis true I shall be at court, but I will take no divertisement there; and when I return to my solitary bed, if I am so forgetful of my passion as to sleep, I will dream of her; and betwixt sleep and waking, put out my foot towards her side, for midnight consolation; and, not finding her, I will sigh, and imagine myself a most desolate widower.

Bel. I shall do your commands, sir, [Exit. Rho. [Aside.] She's sick as aptly for my purpose, as if she had contrived it so. Well, if ever woman was a help-mate for man, my spouse is so; for within this hour I received a note from Melantha, that she would meet me this evening in masquerade, in boys' habit, to rejoice with me before she

entered into fetters; for I find she loves me better than Palamede, only because he's to be her husband. There's something of antipathy in the word marriage to the nature of love: marriage is the mere ladle of affection, that cools.it when tis never so fiercely boiling over.

Pala. Dear Rhodophil, I must needs beg your pardon; there is an occasion fallen out which I had forgot: I cannot be at court to-night.

Rho. Dear Palamede, I am sorry we shall not have one course together at the herd; but I find your game lies single: Good fortune to you with your mistress.

[Exit.

Pala. He has wished me good fortune with his wife; there's no sin in this then, there's fair leave given. Well, I must go visit the sick; I cannot resist the temptations of my charity. O what a difference will she find betwixt a dull resty husband, and a quick vigorous lover! He sets out like a carrier's horse, plodding on, because he knows he must, with the bells of matrimony chiming so melancholy about his neck, in pain till he's at his journey's end; and, despairing to get thither, he is fain to fortify imagination with the thoughts of another woman: I take heat after heat, like a well-breathed courser, and-But hark, what noise is that? Swords! [Clashing of swords within.] Nay, then, have with [Exit PALA.

you.

Re-enter PALAMEDE, with RHODOPHIL; and DORALICE in man's habit.

Rho. Friend, your relief was very timely, otherwise I had been oppressed.

Pala. What was the quarrel?

Rho. What I did was in rescue of this youth.
Pala. What cause could he give them?

Dor. The cause was nothing but only the com