The Works of Mr. Thomas Otway, etc

Front matter

:Zpr/_„r THOMAS OT WAT. THE WORKS OF THOMAS OTWAY, CONSISTING OF HIS PLAYS, POEMS, AND LETTERS. WITH A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, ENLARGED FROM THAT WRITTEN BY DR. JOHNSON, IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. CONTAINING ALCIB1ADES. DON CARLOS, PRINCE OF SPAIN. TITUS AND BERENICE; WITH THE CHEATS OF SCAPIN. FRIENDSHIP IN FASHION. THE SOLDIER'S FORTUNE. Sontion : PRINTED FOR F. C. AND J. RITINGTON ; T. PAYNE ; WILKIE ND ROBINSON LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN ; C&DELL AND DAVIES J. MURRAY; J. MAWMAN; AND R. BALDWIN. 1812. C. Baldwin, Printer, Ntw Bridge-street, London. LIFE OF OTWAY. UF Thomas Otway, one of the first names in the English Drama, says Dr. Johnson, little is known, nor is there any part of that little which his bio grapher can take pleasure in relating. He was born at Trottin in Sussex, March 3, 1651 -2, the son of the Rev. Humphrey Otway, rec tor of Woolbeding.

From Winchester school, where he was educated, he was entered, in l66g, a com moner of Christ Church, but left the University without a degree, whether for want of money, or from impatience of academical restraint, or mere eager ness to mingle with the world, is not known. The anonymous writer of his life in a preceding edition of his works, reports that he removed from Oxford to St. John's College, Cambridge ; the probability of a which rests only on a copy of verses sent to him by Duke, the poet, who was his intimate friend. At Cambridge, however, he could not have remained long, if ever he paid more than a visit to it ; for he appeared on the stage in London, in 1672, in the character of the King in Mrs. Behn's " Forced Marriage," and found himself unable to gain any reputation on the stage.

If he ever went to Cam bridge, it must have been after this period, for Duke himself was not entered of Trinity College until 1675. Dr. Johnson has endeavoured to account for his failure on the stage with more precision than per haps was necessary, as the circumstance is far from being uncommon. This kind of inability, says that eminent critic, he shared with Shakspeare and Jon son, as he shared likewise some of their excellencies. It seems reasonable to expect that a great dramatic poet should without difficulty become a great actor ; that he who can feel, should express ; that he who can excite passion, should exhibit with great readiness its external modes : but since experience has fully proved, that of those powers, whatever be their affinity, one may be possessed in a great degree by him who has very little of the other; it must be allowed that they depend upon different faculties, or on different use of the same faculty ; that thc actor must have a pliancy of mien, a flexibility of countenance, and a variety of tones, which the poet may be easily supposed to want ; or that the attention of the poet and the player have been differently em ployed ; the one has been considering thought, and the other action ; one has watched the heart, and the other contemplated the face.

Prologue

. NEVER did rhymer greater hazard run 'Mongst us by your severity undone : Tho' we, alas I to oblige you have done most, And bought ye pleasures at your own sad cost : Yet all our best endeavours have been lost. So oft a statesman lab'ring to be good, His honesty's for treason understood : Whilst some false flats ring minion ofthe court Shall play the traitor, and be honour'd for't. To you, known judges of what's sense and zvit, Our author szvears he gladly zvill submit : But there's a sort of things infest the pit, That will be witty, spite of nature too, And, to be thought so, haunt and pester you. Hither sometimes those zeould-be-wits repair In quest of you ; zvhere if you not appear, Cries out Pughf Damn me, what do we do here? Strait up he starts, his garniture then puts In order, so he cocks, and out he struts To the coffee-house, where he about him looks ; Spies friend, cries Jack — I've been to night at the Duke's : They, silly rogues, are all undone, my dear, I gad! not one of sense that I saw there.

Thus to himself he'd reputation gather Of wit, and good acquaintance, but has neither. Wit has indeed a stranger been of late, 'Mongst its pretenders nought so strange as that. Both houses too too long a fast have known, That coarsest nonsense goes most glibly dozen. Thus tho' this trifler never zerote before, Yet faith he ventur'd on the common score : Since nonsense is so generally allozv'd, He hopes that his may pass amongst the crozvd. B DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. MEN. Agis, King of Sparta. Alcibiades, General of Athens, but fled thence in discontent, and made General of Sparta, betrothed to Timandra. Tissaphernes, the old General of Sparta. Patroclus, his son, friend to Alcibiades. Theramnes, the now Athenian General, in love with Timandra. Polyndus, a young noble of Athens, his friend. WOMEN.

Deidamia, Queen of Sparta, in love with Alcibiades. Timandra, a noble Athenian lady, betrothed to Alcibiades. Draxilla, sister to Alcibiades, and her friend. Ardella, Lady of Honour to the Queen of Sparta. Priests and Priestesses of Hymen, Spirits, Guards, Messengers, Villains, Ladies, £$c. ALCIBIADES. ACT I. SCENE I. A Palace. Enter Timandra and Draxilla. Shouts without, T\\er_\ini\Q?>\ Theramnes ! Theramnes ! Enter a Servant. Tim. What mean these shouts f Serv. Oh all your hopes are crost, The gallant Alcibiades is lost. Tim. Hah ! Serv. When last night the youth of Athens late Rose up the orgia to celebrate, The Bacchanals, all hot and drunk with wine, He led to the almighty Thund'rer's shrine, And there his image seated on a throne They violently took, and tumbled down : This opportunity Theramnes got To supplant him, and his own ends promote : For by the senate he was doom'd to bleed, And that his rival should in all succeed.

But he, the threatning danger to evade, Is to the Spartan camp for refuge fled : And now, by order from the senate, all With shouts proclaim Theramnes general. [Act I. 6 ALCIBIADES. Tim. But is he fled? Has he so meanly done, To leave me to be wretched here alone ? Is this thy plighted faith, is this thy truth ! Oh too unkind, false, and unconstant youth ! [Exit Serv. Drax. Madam, believe not but my brother's just, You wrong his honour by this mean distrust ; Think you that distance can his love rebate ? Tim. Thy young experience never felt the weight Of lovers' fears; if just, he'll easily Excuse that love, that breeds this jealousy. Drax. But, madam, for these doubts no grounds you have. Tim. Alas ! go ask of madmen why they rave. What more could fate do to augment my woe ? I love, am mad, and know not what I do.

I, who before had nothing in my eyes But love and glory growing to delight ; Like chymists waiting for their labours' prize, My hopes are dash'd and ruin'd in their height. Drax. Alas, we but with weak intelligence Read Heaven's decrees; they're writ in mystic sense. For were they open laid to mortal eyes, Men would be gods, or they no deities. Perhaps the wiser Pow'rs thought fit this way To give your growing happiness allay ; Lest should it in its high perfection come, Your soul for the reception might want room. Tim. Thy reasons, kind Draxilla, weakly move What woman e'er complain'd of too much love ? No, had I naked to the world been left, Of honour and its gaudy plumes bereft, Yet all these I with gladness could resign, So Alcibiades had still been mine : But he remov'd, what can they give alone ?

What is the casket when the jewel's gone ? Drax. Madam, if he be gone, 'tis to obtain A nobler lustre, and return again : Think you his great soul could with patience see His rifled honours heap'd on's enemy ; And not his rage have grown to that excess, As must have ruin'd all your happiness ; But he withdrew, and like a zealous hermit did forego Those little toys, to gain a heav'n in you. Tim. That zeal must needs be very weak and faint, That lets the votary forsake his saint ; No, he is happy in some other flame, And from his breast has blotted out my name : So that there nothing more remains for me But a kind death, or a long misery. But death alone's th' unhappy lover's ease, That seals up to us an eternal peace ; By that our souls to endless pleasures move, And we enjoy an everlasting love.

Yet ere I die, as die I feel I must, To Alcibiades I would be just; Fain would I let him know how I resign All in him, that his past vows had made mine ? Then to its seat in peace my soul should fly, And calmly at my lover's feet I'd die. Draxilla* for thy friend, what couldst thou do ? Drax. Madam, I could do any thing for you ; I know not what you'd ask me I'd deny, Except that cruel thing, to see you die. Tim. Some safe disguises for us then provide, From watchful eyes our sudden flight to hide ; Hence to the Spartan camp I'll forthwith move, Borne on the wings of jealousy and love : For I'm resolv'd to know the worst of fate ; I would be blest ; can be unfortunate ; Since 'tis the only thing of Heav'n I crave, To meet a faithful lover, or a grave. [Act I. ALCIBIADES. 8 Theramnes at the door.

Ther. Stay, kind Polyndus, here, Whilst I go pay my just devotion there : [Stepping to Tim See, fairest queen of love and beauty, here Your faithfullest and humblest worshipper, Who comes to offer up a sacrifice To those eternal glories of your eyes ; It is a heart as spotless and sincere, As the chaste vows of holy vestals are ; Accept, divine one, and pronounce my doom. Tim. Are you, my lord, to mock my sorrows come ? Ther. No, (guided by my love) I humbly came To pay my duty, and present my flame. Tim. What flame or duty can you owe to me ? Ther. Next what the holy to the deity, When they for blessings at the altars move ; 'Tis adoration, madam, join'd with love. Tim. Love ! I thought that had been ere this o'erblown ; .I'm sure it had small hopes to live upon. Ther. That love, which only tedious hopes sustain, Is a dull, easy, and ignoble pain : Mine's an enliv'ning and transporting fire, Whose flames increase, and still are piercing higher.

Tim. Yes, as from piles some wilder flames essay To mount, but baffled part in fumes away ; So all that love, you now so strongly boast, Sever'd from hope, in a weak vapour's lost. But you too urgent in your suit appear. Ther. Oh what's too urgent for a joy so dear ! Tim. Since then you constancy so firmly vow, Worthy Theramnes,here I do so too. [Gives her hand. Ther. Thus when the storms of love are over-past, We gain the wish'd-for port of bliss at last. I ne'er could doubt [Kisses her hand. Tim. Then know I ne'er can cease From my vow'd love to Alcibiades. Ther. I'm lost, and all those joys I saw so near, Vanish, and leave me wand'ring in despair : Thus, madam, barb'rous cruelty you've shown, Raising me up only to throw me down. Tim. Not to deceive you, I, Theramnes, know How much I am oblig'd to your love and you.

Since you such ample kindness did express, In favour of my Alcibiades ; How poorly did you envy the esteem I for his matchless virtues had, and him ! When finding him abandon'd by the state, You to advance your int'rest, did create New feuds, As if my love were balanc'd by his fate : No, he had nobler charms my breast to move, Unblemish'd honour, and a spotless love ; Which tho' perhaps now know another flame, Yet I have love and passion for their name. Ther. Am I then of all hopes of bliss debarr'd ? Oh too soft charms sway'd by a heart too hard ! Tim. You're something discompos'd, sir, I perceive, And 'tis but modesty to take my leave. Ther. Oh stay, and pity a poor lover's fate ! Tim. If pity, sir, is all you ask, take that. Ther. Heavens, can she at those chains she gave me scoff! Tim.

You at your pleasure, sir, may shake 'em off. [Exeunt Tim. and Drax. Enter Polyndus. Pol. How fares my noblest friend ? Ther. As those who are Tott'ring upon the brinks of dire despair ; Help and retrieve me with thy assisting hand, Love thrusts me forward, and I cannot stand. ALCIBIADES. [Act I. 10 Pol. Then, sir, turn back, and face your driving foe. Ther. Alas ! what can a fetter'd captive do ? The more I strive, the faster I am bound, As ign'rant swimmers are with struggling drown'd. Pol. Timandra surely can't in honour less, Than crown your love with prosperous success ; When she believes (as certainly she must) That Alcibiades is prov'd unjust. Ther. Alas, she loves him with much greater flame, And pays devotion to his very name ; Distance adds to their loves a violence, And their souls hold from far intelligence.

Thus my mistaking policy out-runs My fate ; and I'm by my own plots undone. Pol. Why do you let your soul be so oppress ? 'Tis patience best befits a gallant breast. Ther. Patience! What's that? the mistress of tame fools ; That can in nothing else employ their souls : No ; since, Timandra, thou canst disapprove My just flame for an absent rival's love, I'll find that rival out, and snatch his breath, Tho' ev'ry step I tread encounter death. Pol. Now, sir, you're brave Already you've disarm'd Timandra's charms, Methinks I see you rev'ling in her arms ! Let's then o'the wings of love and honour fly To the field, and meet th' insulting enemy ; Where thro' the paths of death and blood we'll go To meet your rival, and his country's foe : There the remembrance of Timandra's charms Shall add fresh courage to your conqu'ring arms.

But if Fate the success so order shall, That by your rival's sword you chance to fall : I then (as honour justly will command) Inspir'd by friendship and Timandra's name, Will bravely stem him, and with this bold hand Revenge or fall a victim to your flame. Ther. Oh noble generous youth ! whose tender years Such gallant courage and such honour wear ! How can my aims but in my wishes end, [Embraces him. That have so worthy and so brave a friend ? Come, my Polyndus Pol. On my friend I'll wait, Thro' all the labyrinths of Jove and fate. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Tent of a Pavilion Royal; the King and Queen of Sparta, Alcibiades, Tissaphernes, Patroclus, Guards, Ladies, 8$c. King. Now must proud Athens lay her triumphs down, And pay her glory's tribute to my crown : No more shall stupid Greece her fetters wear, Nor make disadvantageous peace for fear ; But she herself must in subjection come, And humbly at my feet expect her doom.

Tis. Yes, sir; all glories must, when yours break forth, Go out, and lose their beauty, and their worth ; And like false angels vanish and be gone, Dreading those shapes they durst before put on. Patro. Athens, the world's great mistress, will not be Courted with low and vulgar gallantry ; Her glory aims at higher characters, Than heavy gown.men clad in formal furs : ALCIBIADES. [Act I 12 Who wins her, deeds 'bove common fate must do; And so she's only mistress fit for you. King. Yes ! And I only will enjoy her too. But, noble generous youth, thou hast alone [To Alcibiades. Things worthy the Athenian honour done : Thou like a tow' ring eagle soar'd'st above That lower orb in which they faintly move ; A flight too high for their dull souls to use, Which prompted them that honour to abuse ; Thinking their baseness they might palliate With the dark cloud of policy and state.

But let them that black mystery pursue, By worth and honour empires greatest grow ; Which when abus'd, their glory does suppress, As revers'd prospects make the objects less. Alci. Yours, sir, like heaven's great soul, is general; Dispensing its kind influence on all. This makes success and victory repair, To move with you as in their proper sphere ; As fragrant dews leave the corrupter earth, Exhal'd by the sun, from whom they have their birth. King. The truth of that we by your laurels know, Conquest your arms, triumph still waits your brow ; By your success th' Athenian greatness rose, Your courage scatter'd their insulting foes ; And from that height to which by you they're grown, 'Tis your success alone must throw them down. Thus have we made you gen' ral of our force ; And all those honours you were robb'd of there We'll make our study to redouble here.

Tis. And I (if that my malice tell me true) As diligently shall his plagues pursue. [Aside. Alci. Of all my courage or my sword shall do, I the success must to your virtue owe, The honour and the justice of your cause So glorious are, fate must from them take laws ; So you o'er Athens this advantage have, You fortune rule, to whom she's but a slave. King. Enjoy, my Tissaphernes, now thy ease, And plant fresh laurels in the shades of peace. The glories thou hast won so num'rous are, They seem as many as thy age can bear. But if thy spacious soul thou canst confine Within this narrow mansion of mine, Be this the utmost of thy wishes bound, Possess his grateful heart, whose head thou'st crown'd. Tis. Heav'n knows my age does feel no sharper sting, Than to want power to serve so good a king. But since time tells me that my glass is run, Setting me backward where I first begun ; Since no way else they can their duty show, I'll only employ my hands to Heaven for you : And what my sword can't, may devotion do.

King. How truly he a glorious monarch is, That's crown'd with blessings so sublime as these! How can I but in all things happy be, Propt by such courage and such piety ? To me with gods similitude is giv'n ; 'Tis power and virtue that supports their heaven. Our royal standard to the city bear, T'alarm it to obedience, or to war. To-morrow must decide th' Athenian fate, This day to joy and ease we'll consecrate. [Exeunt all but Tis Tis. Ungrateful king! thy shallow aims pursue; But, my brisk upstart favourite, have at you. Was it for this my active youth I spent In war? and knew no dwelling but a tent! Have I for this thro' invious mountains past ? Demolish'd cities, and laid kingdoms waste ? Still in his cause unweary'd courage shown ? And almost hid his head in crowns I won ? » Upon my breast receiv'd so many scars, They seem a war describ'd in characters ?

And must the harvest of my toil and blood Upon a fawning rebel be bestow'd ? Who having false to his own country been, Comes here to play his treasons o'er again ? Must he at last tumble my trophies down, And revel in the glories I have won ? Whilst from my honours they me disengage, With a dull compliment to feeble age. What ails this hardy hand, that yet it should Tremble at death, or start at reeking blood ? Methinks this dagger I as firmly hold, [Draws a dagger. And with a strength as resolute and bold, As he who kindly would its point impart A present to an envy'd favourite's heart ; And I, fond youth, will try to work thy fall, Tho' with my own I crown thy funeral. Envy and malice from your mansions flee, Resign your horror and your snakes to me : For I'll act mischiefs yet to you unknown ; Nay, you shall all be saints when I come down. [Exit ACT II.

SCENE I. A Grove adjoining to the Spartan Camp. Enter Timandra and Draxilla. Tim. What uncouth roads afflicted lovers pass ! How strange, prepost'rous steps their sorrows trace Oh, Alcibiades, if thou art just, Forgive th' excess of love that bred distrust. SceneI.] ALCIBIADES. 15 Driven by that, disguis'd I hither came, Yet here and ev'ry where my grief's the same. But kind Draxilla's friendship can dispel The thickest clouds that on sad bosoms dwell : That does alleviate my griefs, and give My weary'd soul a soft and kind reprieve ; Which ever to forget would be as hard, And as impossible, as to reward. Drax. The serving you my happiness secures, I'm only something by my being yours ; Since equally with yours, my hopes were crost, When in your lover I a brother lost ; Then like an orphan, destitute and bare Of all, but misery and sad despair, Your kindness gave my yielding spirits rest, And rais'd me to a dwelling in your breast : Then ought I not, in all, my soul resign, To ease her griefs that kindly pity'd mine ?

Tim. In that I did what honour urg'd me to. Drax. And honour tells me gratitude is due. Tim. But how grows gratitude to that degree, To be afflicted thus and weep for me ? Drax. Alas ! that is the least that I could do ; To our worst enemies our tears we owe. Friendship to such a noble height should rise, As their devotion does in sacrifice, Who think they show a zeal remiss and small, Except themselves as nobler victims fall. With as great courage could I for you die, And my triumphant soul to heaven should fly; There I again my friendship would renew, And lay up chiefest joys in store for you. Tim. What vast and boundless flights does friend ship take ! Beyond what search can see, or fancy track ? 'Tis the improvement of the part divine, When souls in their seraphic transports join ; [Act II. 16 ALCIBIADES.

In souls united, so we friendship see, As many glories make a deity. Enter Alcibiades from the back part of the Scenes. Drax. Madam, yonder he comes who must retrieve Your drooping hopes, and your faint joys revive. Tim. My Alcibiades ! how I begin To think my misplac'd jealousy did sin ! Go meet him, seem all troubled and in tears, And with the tale I taught thee wound his ears : Mean while I will withdraw myself this way, Nor would my swelling passions let me stay. [Goes to the door. Alci. What airy visions o'er my eyes there move, Like the good genius of an absent love ! Where-e'er I turn me, I methink espy Timandra's image softly gliding by. Such fond ambition Love his slaves does teach, To make them fancy what they cannot reach. For oh, divine one ! How sickly joys honour and greatness grant, When thee, the glory of my soul, I want !

Drax. My lord ! Alci. —■ me, ye Pow'rs ! Draxilla here, And weeping too ! Oh my prophetic fear ! What is't your coming here would seem to tell ? Relate, oh, quickly, is my princess well ? Drax. Oh sir! in that unhappy fatal night, When to the Spartan camp you took your flight, When by the cruel senate you were drove Both to forsake your country and your love ; Timandra, and myself, as we were sat In her apartment, grieving for your fate ; No sooner, with sad jealousies opprest, Her wearied soul in sleep sought after rest, But grief new scenes of misery brought in, And play'd in dreams its horrors o'er again : Sometimes her tender arms she'd forward stretch, Then fiercely at the empty air would catch : Weary 'd with grief, she then would milder be, And in a hollow sigh send out, ah me ! At last she rose, and 'bout the chamber walk'd ; Sometimes she started, then stood still and talk'd : Anon repeat some short and pithy pray'r ; Again grow wild> and tear her precious hair : Till having so wrought sorrow to that height, That her soul grew too tender for the weight ; Ere I my courage could collect, to go And give a hindrance to the fatal blow, She with her dagger stabb'd herself, and said, Thus died Timandra, that unhappy maid.

Alci. Ye gods ! is't thus your justice you dispense, To lay the reward of guilt on innocence ? What tho' these sacrilegious hands have thrown Your images, those pageant glories, down ! Must you revenge on her I lov'd transfer ? You might have plagu'd me, so you'd pity'd her. But thus I'll send my soul, where it may tell She lov'd too rashly, but not lov'd too well : [Offers to fall on his sword, but is hindered by Draxilla. Oh sister ! do not hinder me my death ; Sighs are the only use I've left of breath : One blow will put an end to grief and me. Enter Timandra. Tim. That, sir, you must not do, nor must I see. [Alcibiades starts. Why fly you back ? Nay, if you shun me now, I shall grow apt to think my fears too true. vol. I. C ALCIBIADES. [act ii. 18 Alci. Oh heavens ! does then my dear Timandra live!

The joy's too mighty for me to receive ; This was the greatest bliss Heaven had to give. How rashly did my impious rage profane Your goodness ! Oh but wash away that stain, Then I with victims will your altars load, And have a sacrifice for ev'ry god : Till by those holy fires this black offence Be purg'd, and purify'd to innocence. But, dearest, how could you so cruel be, To let such bliss be dress'd in misery ? To tell me you were dead ! How could you think but th' horror of that breath Must damp my soul, and chill me into death ? Tim. Alas ! my fears could find out no relief, But thus t'assault you in the garb of grief; This trial of your faith my joy secures, As thunder ushers in refreshing show'rs. Alci. Let us no longer then to doubts give way, But haste to the consummation of our joy ; So, with our bright united flames, dispel Those anxious mists that on our bosoms dwell, Being of no other jealousy possest, But which shall kindest prove, and love the best.

Tim. And when our faithful, happy hearts shall be Firmer united by that sacred tie, How in an endless road of bliss we'll move, Steering our motions by our perfect love ! There we with pleasure will recount each woe, Which we have pass'd, and others undergo. There we'll reflect on the various hopes and fears, The mournful sighs and the impatient tears Of distress'd lovers, whilst we'll kindly thence, Thro' a strange mystical intelligence, Give them redresses by our influence. Till so, by ours Their full grown joys receive a happy birth, As planets in their kind conjunctions bless the earth. Alci. Then, my Timandra, to our bliss let's fly, There's but one minute more to ecstacy. [Exeunt. Enter Queen and Ardella. Queen. Oh my Ardella, whither shall I turn ? I'm all o'er flame, in ev'ry part I burn.

Ardel. Your majesty Queen. — Fool, majesty ! what's that ? Th' ill-natur'd pageant mockery of fate ; When her ungrateful sportive power she'd show, Raising us high To bar us of the benefits below. But I'll her servile policy despise, And make her stoop to Love's great victories. Th' almighty Power of heaven came down from thence, To taste the sweets of am'rous excellence : Why then should princes, that are gods below, Think that a sin which heaven is proud to do ? Ardel. But, madam, is it not a cruel thing Tabuse a loving husband, and kind king? Queen. Dull girl, thou know'st not what a hus» band is ; Alas, they never reach the height of bliss, But ignorantly with Love's magic play, Till they raise spirits they want power to lay. In that brave Alcibiades there swarm So many graces, he's all over charm ; Such killing airs in each part of him move, His brows dart majesty, and his eyes love : Oh my Ardella, I am lost in thought !

I fain would have thee yet 'tis false, I'd not. Ardel. Madam, your royal pleasure but relate, I'll be as faithful, and as firm as fate. c [act ii. 20 ALCIBIADES. Queen. Art thou then skilful in Love's subtle arts, Cunningly to lay ambuscades for hearts ? Canst thou express a melting kind desire, And give a feeling draught of Love's soft fire ? Ardel. Madam, so subtly I'll his heart betray, As one who, by some great magician's pow'r, Is hurry 'd thro' the regions in an hour, And for return again can find no way. Queen. My better angel ! fly then swift as time, Or thought ; thou gain'st a queen in gaining him. But use such secrecy as stoll'n loves should have, Be dark as the hush'd silence of the grave. Ardel. Madam, distrust not but that I shall do, Both what is to your love and honour due.