The loyal subject, or, The faithful general a play acted at the Theatre-Royal by Her Majesties servants / the authors, Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Fletcher ; with a preface.

Scene 2.

Enter Petesca, and Gentlewoman.

Pet.

Lord, what a Coile has here been with these Soldiers? They are cruel Fellows.

Wo.

And yet methought we found 'em Handsome enough; I'll tell thee true, Petesca, I look'd for other manner of Dealings from 'em, And had prepar'd my self; but where's my Lady?

Pet.

In her old Dumps within; monstrous melancholy; Sure she was mad of this Wench.

Wo.

If she had been a Man, She would have been a great deal madder, I am glad she is shifted.

Pet.

'Twas a wicked thing for me to betray her, And yet I must confess she stood in our Lights.

Enter Alinda:

What young thing's this?

Al.

Good morrow beauteous Gentlewomen: Pray you is the Princess stirring yet?

Wo.

He has her Face.

Pet.

Her very Tongue, and Tone too; her Youth upon him.

Al.

I guess you to be the Princess's Women.

Pet.

Yes, we are, Sir.

Al.

Pray is there not a Gentlewoman waiting on her Grace, You call Alinda?

Pet.

The Devil sure in her shape.

Wo.

I have heard her tell my Lady of a Brother, An only Brother that she had: in Travel —

Pet.

'Mass, I remember that: this may be he too: I would this thing would serve her.

Enter Olimpia.

Wo.

So would I, Wench, We should love him better sure: Sir, here's the Princess, She best can satisfie you.

Al.

How I love that Presence! O blessed Eyes, how nobly shines your Comforts!

Ol.

What Gentleman is that?

Wo.

We know not, Madam: He ask'd us for your Grace: and as we guess it, He is Alinda's Brother.

Ol.

Ha! let me mark him: My Grief has almost blinded me: her Brother! By Venus, he has all her Sweetness upon him: Two silver drops of Dew were never liker.

Al.

Gracious Lady —

Ol.

That pleasant Pipe he has too.

Al.

Being my Happiness to pass by this way, And having, as I understand by Letters, A Sister in your vertuous Service, Madam —

Ol.

O now my Heart, my Heart akes.

Al.

All the Comfort My poor Youth has, all that my Hopes have built me, I thought it my first Duty, my best Service Here to arrive first, humbly to thank your Grace For my poor Sister, humbly to thank your Nobleness, That bounteous Goodness in you.

Ol.

'Tis he certainly.

Al.

That Spring of Favour to her: with my Life, Madam, If any such most happy Means might meet me, To shew my Thankfulness.

Ol.

What have I done, Fool?

Al.

She came a Stranger to your Grace, no Courtier; Nor of that curious Breed befits your Service; Yet one, I dare assure my Soul, that lov'd you Before she saw you; doated on your Vertues; Before she knew those fair Eyes long'd to read 'em. You only had her Prayers, you her Wishes; And that one Hope to be yours once, preserv'd her,

Ol.

I have done wickedly.

Al.

A little Beauty, Such as a Cottage breeds, she brought along with her; And yet our Country-eyes esteem'd it much too: But for her beauteous Mind, forget, great Lady, I am her Brother, and let me speak a Stranger: Since she was able to beget a Thought, 'twas honest, The daily Study how to fit your Services, Truly to tread that vertuous Path you walk in, So fir'd her honest Soul, we thought her Sainted; I presume she is still the same: I would fain see her; For, Madam, 'tis no little Love I owe her.

Ol.

Sir, such a Maid there was, I had —

Al.

There was, Madam?

Ol.

O my poor Wench: Eyes, I will ever curse you For your Credulity, Alinda.

Al.

That's her Name, Madam,

Ol.

Give me a little leave, Sir, to lament her.

Al.

Is she dead, Lady?

Ol.

Dead, Sir, to my Service. She is gone, pray ask me no farther.

Al.

I obey, Madam: Gone? now must I lament too: said you gone, Madam?

Ol.

Gone, gone for ever.

Al.

That's a cruel Saying: Her Honour too?

Ol.

Prithee look angry on me, And if thou ever lovedst her, spit upon me; Do something like a Brother, like a Friend, And do not only say thou lov'st her —

Al.

You amaze me.

Ol.

I ruin'd her, I wrong'd her, I abus'd her; Poor innocent Soul, I flung her; sweet Alinda, Thou vertuous Maid, my Soul now calls thee vertuous. Why do ye not rail now at me?

Al.

For what, Lady?

Ol.

Call me base treacherous Woman.

Al.

Heaven defend me.

Ol.

Rashly I thought her false, and put her from me, Rashly, and madly I betray'd her Modesty, Put her to wander, Heaven knows where; nay, more, Sir, Stuck a black Brand upon her.

Al.

'Twas not well, Lady.

Ol.

'Twas damnable; she loving me so dearly, Never poor Wench lov'd so: Sir, believe me, 'Twas the most dutious Wench, the best Companion; When I was pleas'd, the happiest, and the gladdest, The modestest sweet Nature dwelt within her: I saw all this, I knew all this, I lov'd it, I doated on it too, and yet I kill'd it: O what have I forsaken? what have I lost?

Al.

Madam, I'll take my leave, since she is wandring, 'Tis fit I know no rest.

Ol.

Will you go too, Sir? I have not wrong'd you yet, if you dare trust me, For yet I love Alinda there, I honour her, I love to look upon those Eyes that speak her, To read that Face again, Modesty keep me, Alinda, in that shape: but why should you trust me, 'Twas I betray'd your Sister, I undid her; And believe me, gentle Youth, 'tis I weep for her: Appoint what Penance you please: but stay then, And see me perform it: ask what Honour this Place Is able to heap on you, or what Wealth: If following me will please you, my Care of you,

Which for your Sister's sake, for your own Goodness —

Al.

Not all the Honour-Earth has, now she's gone, Lady, Not all the Favour; yet if I sought Preferment, Under your bounteous Grace I would only take it. Peace rest upon you: one sad Tear every Day For poor Alinda's sake, 'tis fit you pay.

Exit.

Ol.

A thousand, noble Youth; and when I sleep, Even in my silver Slumbers still I'll weep.

Exit.