And I were King, by Fortune, as by Birth!
And that I was, till by thy Husband's Power
I was divested in my Infancy--
Then you shou'd see, I do not flatter ye.
But I, instead of that, must see my Crown
Bandy'd from Head to Head, and tamely see it:
And in this wretched state I live, 'tis true;
But with what Joy, you, if you lov'd, might guess.

_Qu_. We need no Crowns; Love best contented is
In shady Groves, and humble Cottages,
Where when 'twould sport, it safely may retreat,
Free from the Noise and Danger of the Great;
Where Victors are ambitious of no Bays,
But what their Nymphs bestow on Holy-days;
Nor Envy can the amorous Shepherd move,
Unless against a Rival in his Love.

_Abd_. Love and Ambition are the same to me,
In either I'll no Rivals brook.

_Qu_. Nor I:
And when the King you urge me to remove,
It may be from Ambition, not from Love.

_Abd_. Those Scruples did not in your Bosom dwell,
When you a King did in a Husband kill.

_Qu_. How, Sir, dare you upbraid me with that Sin,
To which your Perjuries first drew me in?