QUEEN. No creature better; for his skill in play Is equal with our knowledge. Good my lord, Send him to my privy-chamber presently.
EPIRE. I will, and send affliction after him; And see where he comes. My lord, your presence hath Saved me much labour and a little care, I was in quest for your fair company: The queen, my lord, entreats you earnestly You will attend her in her privy-chamber.
EPIRE. Only to waste some time at cards with her, The lazy hours stick heavy on her thoughts, Which she would lose with some forgetfulness.
PHIL. Faith, and play ne'er relish'd worse Within my thoughts. I know not how, but leaden[217] heaviness Draws me to be in love with melancholy.
EPIRE. The fitter for you with more light sports To chase that blood-consumer from your breast, Who with a honey-poison doth devour, And kill the very life of livelihood.
PHIL. 'Tis true, and therefore shall your counsel tutor me; Where is her majesty?
EPIRE. Gone To her privy-chamber, where she doth expect you.
EPIRE. Do, and I will attend thee to thy grave, Poor shallow lord, by much too virtuous. Ho! who's within there?
EPIRE. Go tell his majesty that I must speak with him.
_Enter aloft to cards the_ QUEEN _and_ PHILOCLES.
QUEEN. Come, my lord, take your place, here are cards, and here are my crowns.
PHIL. And here are mine; at what game will your majesty play?
PHIL. A royal game, and worthy of the name, And meetest even for saints to exercise. Sure, it was of a woman's first invention.
QUEEN. It is not saint, but cent, taken from hundreds.
PHIL. True, for 'mongst millions hardly is found one saint.
QUEEN. Indeed you may allow a double game; But come, lift for the dealing; it is my chance to deal.
PHIL. An action most-most proper to your sex.
CYP. How now, my waking dragon, thou whose eyes Do never fall or close through Lethean sleep: What, is there a Hercules that dare to touch Or enter the Hesperian rosaries?[219]
EPIRE. Speak softly, gentle lord; behold, behold, The silly birds are tangled in your snare, And have no way to 'scape your punishment. See, how her eyes do court him, and his looks Pay to her love a double interest. Fie, fie! they are to blame.
PHIL. Your highness' servant, but misfortune's slave.
PHIL. Nothing in show, yet somewhat in account; Madam, I am blank.