_Qu_. You’ll find it fit to change that peevish Humour, And I will leave you to consider of it. [_Exit_. _Cleo_. Gods! marry me, marry me to _Thersander_! No, not whilst this--remains in my Possession; [_Pulls out a dagger_. --I must confess it is a generous Offer; How came it in their Souls? _Sem_. Madam, perhaps Love has inspir’d it. _Cleo_. Hah, Love--that Miracle may be; When I reflect upon the Prince’s words, When he had vanquish’d me--I do not doubt it; Then he confess’d he had a Passion for me; I wonder at the sudden Birth of it-- _Sem_. Madam, your Eyes make Captives at first sight. _Cleo_. Oh my dear Eyes, how shall I love ye now, For wounding more than my dull Sword could do? ’.was Anger and Revenge that gave ye Charms, Only to help the weakness of my Arms; And when my Woman’s Courage feeble grew, My Heart did kindly send its Aids to you. And thou, _Thersander_, surely canst not blame My Cruelty, who do allow thy Flame: Love on, love on; and if thou dost despise All other ways, I’ll kill thee with my Eyes. _She sits down, and writes_. _Enter_ a Page. _Page_. Madam, there is without an Officer Who bad me tell your Highness that he waits. _Cleo_. Admit him--and, Page, give you this Letter to the Queen. _Sem_. Madam, it is _Vallentio_ whom you sent for. _Enter_ Vallentio. _Cleo_. _Vallentio_, I believe thee brave and honest. _Val_. Madam, the last I dare affirm. _Cleo_. Tell me, _Vallentio_, didst thou ever love? _Val_. Madam, your Interest, my Arms, and a brave Enemy. _Cleo_. But didst thou never feel a softer Passion? _Val_. Madam, I own, though with a Blush I do so, I’ve felt the Power of two fair Eyes; And I have Wounds that yet would bleed afresh, Should but the cruel Murderess appear. _Cleo_. Then thou art fit to hear a Secret from me; --But first, _Vallentio_ tell me who I am. _Val_. My Princess, Madam, and my General; And one, who from your Power of Beauty holds No less Dominion o’er th’ adoring World, Than from the Greatness you were born to. _Cleo_. And you’re contented I should be your Queen? _Val_. Madam, I am--_Pimante_ has been prating. [_Aside_. _Cleo_. The Army too are of your mind. _Val_. I cannot answer for the Army, Madam. _Cleo_. But--what think you of _Orsames_? _Val_. Madam, I think he merits to be King In any other World but where you reign. _Cleo_. And what if I would have him King of this? _Val_. Why then he shall be King, if you would have it so.