By Stolden banks in happy solitude;
When thou and I, shepherd and shepherdess
So oft by turns, as often still have wish'd,5
That we as eas'ly could have chang'd our sex,
As clothes. But, alas! all those innocent joys,
Like glorious mornings, are retir'd into
Dark sullen clouds, before we knew to value
What we had.
Alm. [to himself]. Fame and victory are light10
Huswifes, that throw themselves into the arms,
Not of the valiant, but the fortunate.
To be ta'en thus!
Iph. Almerin!
Alm. Nipp'd i' th' bud
Of honour!
Iph. My lord!
Alm. Foil'd! and by the man
That does pretend unto Francelia!15
Iph. What is't you do, my Almerin? sit still,
And quarrel with the winds, because there is
A shipwreck, tow'rds, and never think of saving
The bark?
Alm. The bark? What should we do with that,
When the rich freight is lost, my name in arms?20
Iph. Who knows
What prizes are behind, if you attend
And wait a second voyage?
Alm. Never, never!
There are no second voyages in this;
The wounds of honour do admit no cure.25
Iph. Those slight ones which misfortune gives must needs,
Else why should mortals value it at all?
For who would toil to treasure up a wealth,
Which weak inconstancy did keep, or might
Dispose of?
Enter Melidor
Iph. Oh, my lord, what news?
Mel. As ill30
As your own fears could give you:
The council has decreed him sudden death;
And all the ways to mercy are block'd up.
Alm. My Iphigene!
