+Des.+ 'Tis but the busy voice that, like the nightmare, Rides men, and can find strange shapes and prodigies I'th' clouds. I must confess, Cleara has the Engagement of all her virtues and a brother's on me. When it concerns me nearer, it must not be a secret To your highness, to whom all that's deriv'd To my poor life and fortune is a just debt. +Duke.+ You know the way unto a friend--if you can think I have power enough to make me so. +Des.+ Sir, I was only showed to the world to be talk'd on: Fortune (I thank her) has given me many knacks To play with in her mood, but taken 'em away again scurvily, To tell me I was not born to any real purpose; And I wish nothing she can give me. +Duke.+ She will acknowledge her mistake, and put On her smiles to court your merits. La Gitterne, is the king come from's sport? [_+La Gitterne+ waits._ +La G.+ He dines abroad, my lord. +Duke.+ Colonel, this day you shall bestow on me: I owe the Duchess Claudilla a visit; Make ready straight; we'll spend a dinner-time There, and the afternoon at tennis. [_Exeunt._ +A Song.+ _That done, +Claudilla+ and +De Flame+ discovered sitting in a rich couch; at each end a lady waiting._ +De F.+ This does but find our melancholy out, And cast it in a minute's trance; when one Soft accent from Claudilla's voice leaves nought That's earth about me. My soul's in her Elysium, And every sense immortal, dilated into joys: Heaven becomes attentive, and the soft winds Put on their perfum'd wings to hover near those lips. That blush does show the sparkles of some incensed thought! My poor expressions rob ye; but I appeal To this white hand for pardon. +Claud.+ Sir, my thoughts are all acknowledgments of that delight I hear and see you with, what dress soe'er you please To send your courtship in to try 'em; We have outliv'd those arts and common charms, And need not seek our hearts in scatter'd flames; As those, whose lesson yet is at the hand or eye; Our hearts have read Love's deep divinity And all his amorous volumes over; we must write Stories of our love, my lord. +De F.+ And chaste ones, madam: How glorious the frontispiece would show With great Claudilla's name, tried in a true Love's knot to her De Flame's! Though the Great distance of your shining attributes both Of blood and virtue, consider'd in the poverty of mine, Would draw squint eyes and envy to my stars; But speak your name great as the example of your Goodness, and make it worth the imitation Of all noble minds, that shall but read your love And sweetness, which (most excellent of your sex) Condescended unto me, who else had Languish'd in a heap of ashes.