HIRILDAS

Love should be blind. Give me her Name. I prithee speak her. By Love, who is't? hath she no mortal Name? Oh Love, as deaf, as thou art blind! Good Eulinus Call home thy soul, and tell thy Mistress name. What: Landora the Trinobanticke Lady? How grow your Hope's, what mettle is her breast? Why then, let scorn succeed thy love, and bravely Conquer thy self, If thou wilt conquer her: Stomachs, with kindness cloyed, Disdain must stir. Oh you cross darts of Cupid! this very Lady, This Lady-wasp woes me, as thou dost her, With glances, jewels, bracelets of her hair, Lascivious banquets, and most eloquent eyes: All which my heart misse-consters as immodest, It being pointed for another Pole. But hence learn courage, Coosse; why stand you dumb? Women are women, and may be overcome. Stay, stay. For now I mean with gentler breath. To waft you to your happy landing place. Seeing this Crocodile pursues me flying, Flies you pursuing: we'll catch her by a trick: With promise feigned, I'le' point a Cupid's stage, But in the night, and secret, and disguizd: Where thou, which art my self, shalt act my partly; In Venus games, all Cozening goes for Art. The kind Cordella, Loving, and Beloved: Only some jar of late about a Favour Made me inveigh gainst women. Come, away, Our plots desire the night, not babbling day. Well, so: your tongue's your own, though drunk or angry. Speak not a word upon your life: Be dumb. I'll winch up thy estate. Be Harpocrates. Thy Fortune's shall be double-guilt. Be midnight. And excellent instrument to be the Bawd To his deer Lady. — But Rollano, hark: What words, what looks did give my letter welcome? Nay, now thy silence is antedated. Speak. I give thee leave, I say. Speak, Be not foolish. You told her my Conditions, and my Oath Of silence, and that only you be used. And that this night— You guard the Door— But I never mean to come. No. Thou shalt be true, and She remain deceived. I'll lie, and yet I will not lie. My Friend Eulinus in my shape, shall climb her Bed. This is the point. You'll promise all your aid. Coosse, I commend you to the Cyprian Queen; Whilst I attend Diana in the Forest, My kinsman Mandubrace, and I must try Our Greyhouds speed after a lightfoot hare. Exit Hirild. But she enjoys not your love, cause unknown. Prithee let's hear: I know thou art turned Poet. Night having drawn the Curtain, down I lie By one, for worse Saturnius left the sky. Slumbering at last: For love can hardly sleep: Straightways I dreamed: For love does Reuelles keep. A Damsel fair, and fashioned for delight, (Our day-borne objects do return at night) With flowery chaplet, and read velvet gown, Which from her breast was fastened along down With rich enameled locks, all which one key, Whose bright gold about her silver neck did play, Could open and divorce. A veil most fair, (Such whitnesse only Paphian doves do wear) With false light did her beauteous Front improve; From this Arch Cupid shot his darts of Love. With gentle strain she took me by the hand, (Touches in love do more than tongue's command) Then leads me with and amorous smile along: He's easily led, whom beauty draws, more strong Than Cable-ropes. And Altar we descry, Where Incense-frank, and Amber fumes did fly, In little rolling curls: A reverend Priest, With snowy beard waving upon his breast, There kneeling did his eyes in sorrow steep: Whose passionate cry made me, though ignorant, weep. Phlegons hight breath no sooner licks up Due, Than joy had dried those tears: For lo I view A circular room, all built with marble clear, The title, Nature's Storehouse. Most strange here It seemed: I know not how we came, nor whence, Nor any passage saw to get from thence. But O the rich delight, and glorious fire Which dazzled me: No heart can more desire. Her first my guide oped her spice-breathing door, Ask what thou wilt, this is the Ark of store, No vows are here repulsed, she said. But I Surprised with extreme joy and ecstasy, By chance a Scorpion's tail behind her spied: Pity, such beauty such a monster hide. Trembling, yet silent, doubtful what to crave: Lo, with a stink and fearful screech this brave And glorious Dame does vanish, and a dart, Which still I quake at, struck me to the heart. But waking I revived, and found in bed, Such Sovereign Balm, would cure old Peleus dead. Would, would. Your tedious dream hath made me drowsy. But hark, we must attend the Funeral pomp. You lie, it fairly hit. Do your worst, vain braggart. O, I am slain. I, falling Stars. — And let me speak. Why: Landora loves not you, but me in you.