_Mor._ What did that greatness in a woman's mind? Ill lodged, and weak to act what it designed? Pleasure's your portion, and your slothful ease: When man's at leisure, study how to please, Soften his angry hours with servile care, And, when he calls, the ready feast prepare. From wars, and from affairs of state abstain; Women emasculate a monarch's reign; And murmuring crowds, who see them shine with gold, That pomp, as their own ravished spoils, behold. _Nour._ Rage choaks my words: 'Tis womanly to weep: [_Aside._ In my swollen breast my close revenge I'll keep; I'll watch his tenderest part, and there strike deep. [_Exit._ _Aur._ Your strange proceeding does my wonder move; Yet seems not to express a brother's love. Say, to what cause my rescued life I owe. _Mor._ If what you ask would please, you should not know. But since that knowledge, more than death, will grieve, Know, Indamora gained you this reprieve. _Aur._ And whence had she the power to work your change? _Mor._ The power of beauty is not new or strange. Should she command me more, I could obey; But her request was bounded with a day. Take that; and, if you spare my farther crime, Be kind, and grieve to death against your time. _Enter_ ARIMANT. Remove this prisoner to some safer place: He has, for Indamora's sake, found grace; And from my mother's rage must guarded be, Till you receive a new command from me. _Arim._ Thus love, and fortune, persecute me still, And make me slave to every rival's will. [_Aside._ _Aur._ How I disdain a life, which I must buy With your contempt, and her inconstancy! For a few hours my whole content I pay: You shall not force on me another day. [_Exit with_ ARI. _Enter_ MELESINDA. _Mel._ I have been seeking you this hour's long space, And feared to find you in another place; But since you're here, my jealousy grows less: You will be kind to my unworthiness. What shall I say? I love to that degree, Each glance another way is robbed from me. Absence, and prisons, I could bear again; But sink, and die, beneath your least disdain. _Mor._ Why do you give your mind this needless care, And for yourself, and me, new pains prepare? I ne'er approved this passion in excess: If you would show your love, distrust me less. I hate to be pursued from place to place; Meet, at each turn, a stale domestic face. The approach of jealousy love cannot bear; He's wild, and soon on wing, if watchful eyes come near. _Mel._ From your loved presence how can I depart? My eyes pursue the object of my heart. _Mor._ You talk as if it were our bridal night: Fondness is still the effect of new delight, And marriage but the pleasure of a day: The metal's base, the gilding worn away. _Mel._ I fear I'm guilty of some great offence, And that has bred this cold indifference. _Mor._ The greatest in the world to flesh and blood: You fondly love much longer than you should.