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_Ger_. On Earth it is: your Power too is as great; Your Frowns destroy, and when you smile you bless; At every Nod the whole Creation bows, And lay their grateful Tributes at your Feet; Their Lives are yours, and when you deign to take 'em, There's not a Mortal dares defend himself: But that you may the more resemble Heaven, You should be merciful and bountiful.
_Ors_. I do believe I am the King thou speak'st of.
_Ger_. Behold this Crown--this sacred Thing is yours.
[_Kneels and gives him the Scepter and Crown; he puts it on, and walks about_.
_Ors_. It is a glorious Object-- And fit for none but me--
_Olymp_. Madam, methinks the King is the finest Man That e'er I saw--shall he not still be King?
_Qu_. I hope he will deserve it.
_Ors_. So, now methinks I move like Heaven itself, All circled round with Stars, --Hah! what's this that kneels?
[_The_ Queen _kneels, he s.n.a.t.c.hes her up_.
_Ger_. The Queen your Mother, Sir.--
_Ors_. By my great self it is another Woman, Which I have burnt with a desire of seeing.
--Be gone, and leave us here alone together; I've something to impart to this fair Thing, Must not be understood by you.
_Qu_. Why, Sir, what is it you can impart to me, Which those about you must not understand?
_Ors_. A new Philosophy inspir'd by Nature, And much above whatever Geron taught.
--Come and augment my Knowledge.
_Qu_. Why me, Sir, more than any one about you?
_Ors_. Thou art all soft and sweet like springing Flowers, And gentle as the undisturbed Air.
_Qu_. But I am your Mother.
_Ors_. No matter; thou'rt a Woman, art thou not?
And being so, the Mother cannot awe me.
_Ger_. Sir, 'tis the Person gave you Life and Being.
_Ors_. That gave me Life! oh, how I love thee for't!
Come--and I'll pay thee back such kind Returns--
_Ger_. Most Royal Sir, this Woman was Not made by Heaven--for you.
_Ors_. Away with your Philosophy; but now you said-- I was a King, a mighty G.o.d on Earth, And by that Power I may do any thing.
_Ger_. But Kings are just as well as powerful, Sir.
_Ors_. I am so to my self, do not oppose me.
_Ger_. Sir, this one is not meant, not form'd for you.
_Ors_. Am I a G.o.d, and can be disobey'd?
Remove that Contradiction from my sight, And let him live no longer: ha, more Women!
[Exit Geron.
_Enter_ Olympia _and other Women_.
Oh Nature, how thou'st furnish'd me with Store!
And finer far than this-- [_Gazes on_ Olympia.
--But what is that whose Eyes give Laws to all, And like the Sun, eclipse the lesser Lights?
_Qu_. Speak to him, _Olympia_.
_Ors_. Who tells me what she is?
_Olym_. Oh, how I tremble!--Sir, I am a Maid.
_Ors_. A Maid! and may you be approacht with Knees and Prayers [_Kneels_.
_Olym_. I am your Slave, you must not kneel to me-- Takes him up.
_Ors_. How soon my Glory's vanisht!
Till now I did believe I was some G.o.d, And had my Power and my Divinity Within my Will; but by this awful Fear, I find thou art the greater Deity: --Pray tell me, fairest, are you not a Woman?
_Olym_. I am a Woman, and a Virgin, Sir.
_Ors_. I did believe that thou wert something more, For I have seen a Woman, and ne'er knew So much Disorder in my Soul before: --For every Look of thine gives me a Pain, And draws my Heart out of its wonted Seat.
_Olym_. Alas, Sir, have I hurt you?
_Ors_. Extremely hurt me, thou hast a secret Power, And canst at distance wound, Which none but Heaven and you cou'd ever do.
--But 'twas my Fault; had I not gaz'd on thee, I had been still a King, and full of Health.
--Here--receive this Crown, 'tis now unfit for me, Since thou hast greater Power--whilst it sits here-- [_He takes off his Crown, and puts it on her_.
It looks like Stars fall'n from their proper Sphere: --So, now they're fixt again.
_Qu. Pimante_, speak to him to take it back.
_Pim_. He kills me with his Looks.
--Sir, when you part with this, you'll be despis'd; Your Glory, and your Thunder, all will vanish.
_Ors_. I yet have something that shall make thee fear, I'm still a King, though I must bow to her; Take him away to Death immediately--
_Pim_. Any where to be out of your Sight-- A King, quotha? [_Exit_.
_Ors_. Come, my fair Virgin, this shall be my Altar, And I will place thee here, my Deity.
_Qu_. Great Sir, that Throne is only fit for you.