_Draws off, a Chamber, discovers_ Erminia _in a dishabit, sitting;
to her_ Philander, _who falls at her feet, on his knees_.
_Er_. My Lord the Prince, what makes your Highness here?
_Phi. Erminia_, why do ask that needless question?
’.was Love, Love that’s unsatisfied, which brought me hither.
[_Kneels_.
_Er_. Rise, Sir, this posture would become me better.
_Phi_. Permit me, dear _Erminia_--to remain thus.
’.is only by these signs I can express
What my Confusion will not let me utter.
I know not what strange power thou bear’st about thee,
But at thy sight or touch my Sense forsakes me,
And that, withal I had design’d to say,
Turns to a strange disorder’d Rapture in me.
--Oh _Erminia_--
_Er_. How do you, Sir?
_Phi_. I am not well;
Too suddenly I pass from one extreme
To this of Joy, more insupportable:
But I shall re-assume my health anon,
And tell thee all my story.
_Er_. Dear Sir, retire into this inner room,
And there repose awhile:
Alas, I see disorder in your Face.
_Phi_. This confidence of me, is generous in thee.
[_They go into the Scene which draws over_.