w I should be undone,
Since I have given him all I had to give;
And who that looks on him can blame my Faith?

_Luc._ Indeed he surpasses _Damon_ far;
But I'ad forgot my self, you are the Prince's Wife;
He said you should be kneel'd to, and ador'd,
And never look'd on but on Holy-days:
That many Maids should wait upon your call,
And strow fine Flowers for you to tread upon.
Musick and Love should daily fill your Ears,
And all your other Senses should be ravish'd
With wonders of each kind great as your Beauty.

_Clo._ _Lucia_, methinks you have learnt to speak fine things.

_Luc._ I have a thousand more I've heard him say;
Oh, I could listen a whole Night to hear him talk:
But hark, I hear a Noise, the House is up,
And must not find us here.

_Clo._ Lock up this Box of Jewels for me.

_Luc._ Oh rare! what, did these come to night?

_Clo._ Yes, yes, away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Grove.

Enter _Curtius_ and _Pietro_.

_Cur._ I wonder the Prince stays so long;
I do not like these Night-works;
Were I not confident of _Cloris's_ Virtue,
--Which shall no more be tempted.
I hear some coming, and hope 'tis he--
_Pietro_, are the Horses ready? [Exit _Pietro_.

Enter _Frederick_.

_Cur._ Sir, you are welcome from _Cloris's_ Arms.

_Fred._ With much ado, I am got loose from those fair
Fetters, but not from those of her Beauty;
By these she still inflames me,
In spite of all my humours of Inconstancy;
So soft and young, so fair and innocent,
So full of Air, and yet of Languishment;
So much of Nature in her Heart and Eyes,
So timorous and so kind without disguise:
Such untaught Sweets in every part do move,
As 'gainst my Reason does compel my Love;
Such artless smiles, look so unorder'd too,
Gains more than all the charms of Courts can do;
From Head to Foot, a spotless Statue seems,
As Art, not Nature, had compos'd her Limbs;
So white, and so unblemish'd, oh _Curtius_!
I'm ravisht beyond Sense when I but think on't;
How much more must my Surprize be,
When I behold these Wonders.

_Cur._ And have you seen her, Sir, in all this Beauty?
Oh Hell! [Aside.

_Fred._ _Curtius_, I will not hide my Soul from thee;
I have seen all the marvels of that Maid.

_Cur._ My Soul, learn now the Art of being disguis'd; [Aside.
--'Tis much, my Lord, that one
Bred in such simple Innocence,
Should le