MARCUS

Me thinks, it is a shame to Room and us, That have been counted famous through the world, For matchless victories, and feats of arms, That such a petty Island should repulse So huge and army of the Roman strength, Able to sack the spacious walls of Troy, To level Babels pride even with the ground: And I'll, that in respect of Caesars power, Is Like the Centre, to the ample heavens; A point, unto a large circumference; Small atomes, to the body of the Sun. Sure, this Welshman works by Magic spells, Or, 'tis impossible, if he be a man, Composed of flesh and blood, sinews and nerves, He should outdare so puissant and host. From Room. I have not seen a beauty more divine, A gate more Like to Juno's, Queen of heaven. I cannot tell; but if there be a Cupid, Arrows and flames, that from the sacred fires Of love and passion, that found men inspires With desperate thoughts, kindles our vain desires: Then in this breast their local place must be. O Love, how powerful is thy Deity, That binds the understanding, blinds the eye! Yet here's and object for the eye so rare, Deceit can never beguile, it is so fair. This chase I'll keep, and either win the game, Or loose the golden Fleece unto my shame. Exit. Thy speeches are Like oil unto a flame. I must enjoy thee. If thou wilt yield to me, I'll be thy friend for ever: but if denied, By force I will attempt, what by fair means I cannot compass. Beside, thou art my captive, And standest a suitor for thy liberty. Night, that does basely keep the door of sin, And hide gross murders and adulteries, With all the mortal sins the world commits, From the clear eyesight of the morning Sun: Thou, that never changest colour for a sin, Worse then Apostasy, stand Centinel this hour, And with thy Negroes face vail my intent, Put out thy golden candles with thy fogs, And let original darkness, that is fled With Chaos to the Centre, guard my steps. How hushed is all things! and the world appears Like to a Churchyard full of dead. Death's picture, Sleep, looks, as if passing bells Went for each vital spirit, and appears, As if our souls had took their general flight, And cheated Nature of her motion. Then on, unto thy practice: none can descry Thy black intent, but night and her black eye. Behold the local residence of love, Even in the Rosy tincture of her cheek. I am all fire, and must needs be quenched, Or the whole house of nature will be burned. Fair Voada, awake: 'tis I, awake. He awakes her. What Fury hath deprived me of my joy, And crossed my blood, even in the heat of lust? What, is she gone? O all you sacred powers, Remit this sin, unacted, but by thought: And by those heavenly patroness of chaste minds, Virtue, Like to my soul, shall wholly be Diffused through every member. Thus powers above Do, with unknown means, scourge unlawful love. Exit. I understand you not. Yes, Prince. And thus the Roman General says, If within ten days space thou wilt resign Thy Kingdom to the heir, Lord Codigune, From whom thou dost detain it wrongfully, Thou shalt have peace; but if thou dost deny, Stern war by force, shall force it presently. Proud Welshman, redeliver up that Bird, Whose silver wings thou flutterest in the air; The Veruels that she wears, belong to Room, And Room shall have, or I'll pawn my blood.