_Claran._ When we know Whom she prefers, as she can choose but one, By our so long tri'd friendship we have vow'd The other shall desist. _Clea._ 'Tis yet your purpose, But how this resolution will hold In him that is refus'd, is not alone Doubtfull, but dangerous. _Enter_ Malfort. _Malf._ The rich heir is come Sir. _Cleand._ Madam _Olinda_? _Malf._ Yes Sir, and makes choice, After some little conference with my Lady, Of this room to give answer to her suitors. _Cle._ Already both look pale, between your hopes To win the prize, and your despair to lose What you contended for. _Lid._ No Sir, I am arm'd. _Clar._ I confident of my interest. _Cle._ I'le believe ye when you have endur'd the test. _Enter_ Calista, Olinda, _and_ Clarinda. _Malf._ Is not your garter Unty'd? you promis'd that I should grow higher In doing you service. _Clar._ Fall off or you lose me. [_Exit_ Malfort. _Cle._ Nay take your place, no _Paris_ now sits judge On the contending goddesses. You are The Deitie that must make curst or happy One of your languish[i]ng servants. _Ol._ I thus look with equal eyes on both; either deserves A fairer fortune than they can in reason Hope for from me; from _Lidian_ I expect, When I have made him mine, all pleasures that The sweetness of his manners, youth, and vertues Can give assurance of: but turning this way To brave _Clarange_, in his face appears A kind of Majesty which should command, Not sue for favour. If the fairest Lady Of _France_, set forth with natures best endowments Nay should I adde a Princess of the bloud, Did now lay claim to either for a husband, So vehement my affection is to both, My envie at her happiness would kill me. _Cle._ The strangest love I ever heard. _Cal._ You can enjoy but one. _Clar._ The more I say the merrier. _Oli._ Witness these tears I love both, as I know You burn with equal flames, and so affect me; Abundance makes me poor; such is the hard Condition of my fortune; be your own judges; If I should favour both, 'twill taint my honour, And that before my life I must prefer; If one I lean to, the other is disvalued; You are fierie both, and love will make you warmer. _Clar._ The warmer still the fitter. You are a fool Lady. _Oli._ To what may love, and the Devil jealousie spur you Is too apparent: my name's call'd in question: Your swords flie out, your angers range at large: Then what a murther of my modesty follows? _Clar._ Take heed of that by any means: O innocent, That will deny a blessing when 'tis offer'd, Would I were murther'd so, I would thank my modesty. _Cle._ What pause you on? _Oli._ It is at length resolv'd.