RAMIS

We have bodies, Silvestris, and humane bodies; which in their nature's being much more wretched then beasts, more miserably then beasts pur sue their own : And since it will ask longer la bour and study to subdue the powers of our blood, to the rule of the soul, then to satisfy them with the fruition of our loves, let us be constant in the world's errors, and seek our own torments. And I one that hates love. Let us not dispute whose mistress is most bade, since they be all cruel; nor which of our Fortune's be most froward, since they be all desperate. I will hang my Skut chin on this tree in honour of Ceres, and write this verse on the tree in hope of my success, Penelopen ipsam perstes, mode tempore vinces. Penelope will yield at last: continue and conquer. But why studiest thou? What wilt thou write for thy Lady to read? Stay, cruel Nisa, thou knowest not from whom thou fliest, and therefore fliest; I come not to offer vio lence, but that which is inviolable, my thoughts are as ho lie S thy vows, and I as constant in love as thou in cruel tie: lust follows not my love as shadows do bodies, but truth is woven into my love, as veins into bodies; let me touch this tender arm, and say my love is endless. It is without spot. Dost thou disdain Love and his laws? Time shall bring to pass, that Nisa shall confess there is love. Is it folly to love, which the gods account ho nourable, and men esteem holy? Both gods and men agree that love is a consu ming of the heart, and restoring a bitter death in a sweet life. Wouldst thou allot me death? Yield some hope. Not so long as Nisa is a woman. Why? All may. I will follow thee, and practice by denials to be patient, or by disdaining die, and so be happy. Cruel Nisa, born to slaughter men! Yea, and met withal, if your Fortune's be answer able to mine, for I find my M stris immovable, and the hope I have is to despair. I fear our Fortune's cannot thrive, for Erisicthon hath felled down the holy tree of Ceres, which will en crease in her choler, and in her Nymphs cruelty: let us see whither our Garlands be there which we hanged on that tree, and let us hang our selves upon another. Pardoned it is not, for Erisicthon perishes with famine, and is able to starve those that look on him. Here hang our Garlands, something is written, read mine. Revenge. This is the Temple of our great God, let us offer our sacrifice. These ever burning Lamps, are signs of my never to be quenched flames; this bleeding heart, in which yet sticks the head of the golden shaft, is the lively pic ture of inward torments: mine eyes shall bedew thine Altars with tears, and my sighs cover thy Temple with a dark smoke, pity poor Ramis. Thou Cupid, that givest the wound, knowest the heart, for as impossible it is to conceal our affections, as to resist thy force. Ceres maidens: mine most cruel, which she calls constancy. Too cruel. One says he hath no eyes, because he hits he knows not whom. All, that he hath no taste, because sweet and Sour is all one. All things that may procure love, gifts, words, oaths, sighs, and swoonings. That they were golden blasts, out of Leaden bellows. Mine being so hard as stone, would I have tur ned to stone, that being to lovers pit less, she may to all the world be senseless. With what sacrifice shall we show our selves thankful, or how may we requite this benefit? And to this we all willingly consent. Now what r steth, but revenge on them, that have practised malice on us, let mine be any thing, seeing she will not be only mine. This goes luckily, that Cupid hath promised to restore our Mistress's, and Ceres, that they shall accept our loves. Push, let us endure the bending of their fair brows, and the scorching of their sparkling eyes, so that we may possess at last the depth of their affections. Art thou so superstitious in love, that wast wont to be most careless? Let them curse all day, so I may have but one kiss at night. Nothing but what Ceres would find. Ceres may loose that, that Cupid would save, true lovers. Nothing can altar our affections which increase, while the means decrease, and wax stronger in being weakened. Whom do I see? Nisa? Happy Ramis. Mine most unspotted. Miserable Ramis, unhappy to love, to change the Lady, accursed, and now loose her, desperate! Nisa, the extremity of love is madness, and to be mad is to be senseless, upon that Rock did I resolve to end my life: fair Nisa, forgive him thy change, that for himself provided a harder chance. Oh my sweet Nisa, be what thou wilt, and let all thy imperfections be excused by me, so thou but say thou love me. Happy Ramis. Yes, we attend on Ceres. thou canst not see that which cannot with reason be imagined; for it the divine virtues of Love, had dispersed themselves through the powers of the world, so forcibly as to make them take by his influence, the forms and qualities impressed within them, no doubt they could not c see, but favour more of his Divinity.