PHYSANDER

What am I? My imperfect sense is yet Unapprehensive, and the intellect My mother hath inspired, does not instruct me To know my self. Receive my thanks great power. I yet am mazed, And wander in a labyrinth of thoughts, That throng confusedly together, striving Who should first issue, Till their multitude Chokes up the passage. O you powers that made me To be a King, and to have sovereignty Annexed unto my difference, send me quickly The glorious guide that may remove this darkn sse. Would! what are these? By whom? Our parents, the four Elements. Your names? And what's all this? What's yours? What art skilled in? And what's your name? And what can you do? Come, this agrees not with a servants duty. You must subscribe to order. Phlegm shall be My substitute to moderate these jarrings. And if hereafter any one transgress But in the least dissension that disturbs The quiet of my state, he shall correct it; Nor spare himself. For in a government the offence is greatest in the instrument That hath the power to punish; and in laws The authors trespass makes the foulest cause. Recorders. What admiration works upon my sense! I hea e and see such objects as would make Creation doubtful whither she were perfect Without these parts. Into what strange delights I'm hurried on the sudden? would! After y sacrifice of vows and thanks Let me embrace with reverence, O my life And better soul: joy hath possession taken Of all my faculties, and gives a welcome To these delights. Come my kind servants, let your active limbs Move to delight us, while the spheres agree To guide your measures with their harmony. I am disturbed within; a new desire Whet's appetite of pleasure in some change, Such as may touch the sense without a scruple Of wedlock's breach. Hence with these laws of consci ence That would set limits to what's infinite. Two kisses more will cloy me nought can relish But variation. I applaud thy counsel, And am prepared to act it. Whisper that still; each accent's musical. The me e conceit of it makes me immortal. Henc ; converse is hateful. I'll not tie Desire to such embraces. I'll enjoy A mistress and sportive; that can vary All shapes of dallyance, and present delight Each minute in a several fashion. Guide me, I'll follow. I'm bravely sitted; these are fitting ornaments. Come my best prompter, with endeavours wings Let's cut the air, and strain our motion, till we attain this bower of Sensuality. And let the repetition of her praise Sweeten my painful longings. My desire Fee'ls many throes of travail; Till delivered Of it's sweet issue. What's the best? The air me thinks begins upon a sudden To be perfumed, as if Arabian winds Scattered their spices loosely on the ace Of some rich eam that, fruitful with aromates. Music breathes forth the soul of harmony. Music. How eagerly my senses catch these objects! But what are these? What their names, And offices? Pray sir your name? And what's yours? Now yours? Me thinks I am transformed into a happiness Cannot be figure worser. It before enjoying The expectation can beget such bliss, What will possession? I am inflamed. My appetite begins To burn with hight desires; and if protraction Delay their satisfying, they'll consume Themselves and me. Elysium sure is here, and that eternity I lately dreamt of. You in throne me Lady In happiness, above the difference Of that may b that can boast. You make me perfect: And every touch of this delicious hand, Changed k , lip immortalise me. You are the only object Mine eyes would gaze at. Your words are only music. But this touch is softer. You avish me with Io es beyond expression. the art barren of those pleasures I here enjoy. He hear no more: nor can I be so credulous Having possession, to expect such fables. Here I am fixed. How on a sudden my delights are clouded? As when a surfeit makes the pleasant dish That caused it more dist stefull then offence Of any bitter potion. My dulled senses Relish no objects. Colours do not take My filmed eyes. Mine ears are deaf to sounds, Though by a Changed rus of those lovely maids Which oue begotten on fair Mu m sy Sung to Apollo's harp. Sickness begins To make this m n ion. Fevers burn it, And shake the weak foundation: then a cold Chills it again, as if a thousand Winter's Contracted into one scattered their snow With Northern blasts, and froze the very centre. Palseys disjoint the fabric: loosen all The house-supporters, and at length they fallen. Help me good servants. Hold I command ye: How dare ye insult Upon my weakness thus? O I am wounded. Perfidious villains, was this treachery Your duties act? What fury prompted ye To such inhuman violence? Will no hand Of art or heaven supply me with a balm! Then I must die, and bury all my glories Ever they are fully gazed at. Why did nature Produce me for her darling; and not arm My passive body with a proof against thunder? O thou in whose embraces I have slept And dreamt of heaven, when my waking sense Possessed delights in thee, I seemed to ride Commanding pleasure as if she had been My captive, and her spoils enriched the triumph; Help now to save me: or with wonted kisses Make me to loose the sense of this great pain My bleeding wounds inflict. Let me expire Within thy bosom, and I shall forget That death hath any horror. Not know me Lady! how am I transformed! The sand of many minutes hath not fallen From times grey glass, since you vouchsafed to call me Lord of your self and pleasures. Who's that can laugh at miss y? That wound is deeper Then all the est Calling to mind my ills, That left a chased with e for the lose embraces Oh n ualitie, a painted whore, with beasts. Worser ath hold thy ashy hand, Till conciled to my Bellanima, Then st I e and spare not. That's my good Genius. The horrors of a thousand nights made black With pitchy tempests, and the Moons defect, When he's affrighted with the howlings of C otonean Wolves, and groans of dying Mandrakes Gathered for charm the S hritch owls fatal dirge And Ghosts disturbed by fury S from their p ace. Are all within me. Can Bellanima Forgive the injuries that I have done her? She's milder then thou Love, or pities self. Let me be banished ever to converse With Monsters in a desert it's a punishment Too little. Let me be confined to dwell On the North pole, where a continual Winter May bleak me to a statue; or inhabit The Acherusian fenns, whose noisome air May choke my nostrils with their poisonous fumes, Yet linger death unto a thousand ages. She cannot Heal my affliction; mercies self denies A time and means, and only black despair Whispers th'approach of death. Might I yet live to practice my resolve Of reformation, sooner should the day Leave to distinguish night; the Sun should choke His breathless horses in the western main, And rise no more, the grey morn ushering in His light approach, then my relapse from thee, And goodness cause new miseries. Direct me, Yet heavenly ministers; inform my knowledge In the strict course that may preserve me happy, While yet my sighs suck in unwilling air, That swells my wasted lunges. Though not in life, In death I'll be Bellanima's. I feel quick sense return, and every Organ Is active to perform its proper office: I am not hurt. What miracle hath Heaven Wrought on me? Let me digest my joys; I only now Begin to live: the former was not perfect. My heart's too narrow to contain the joys This reconciliation fills it with. Chain me again to misery, and make me Wretched beyond despair when next I fallen. Let this my resolution be enrolled Amongst eternal acts not to be canceled. Then man is happy, and his bliss is full When he's directed by his better soul. Exeunt. I shall not needs your diligence. Your treachery (although forgiven) hath made me Watchful upon you. I have got now A careful guide to manage my affairs. Retire. I do embrace thy fellowship Prudence, thou virtue of the mind, by which We do consult of all that's good or evil Conducing to felicity. Direct My thoughts and actions by the rule of reason. Teach me contempt of all inferior vanities. Pride in a marble portal guilded over; Assyrian carpets chairs of ivory; The luxury of a stupendious house; Garments perfumed; gems valued not for use But needless ornament; a sumptuous table, And all the baits of sense. A vulgar eye Sees not the danger which beneath them lie. Temperance, to thee I owe my after life; Thou that commandest over pleasures, hating some, When thou dispens'st with others; still directing All to a found mean: under thy low roof I'll eat and sleep, while grave Philosophy Instructs my soul in Justice. What is she? That is reward To vrt we, and to vice it's punishment. The thought of it hath horror in't. I fell From height of goodness in forsaking thee, And must be punished. Why is it delayed? Inflict it straight; protraction makes it greater. Distract me not with comforts. If justice hath no other instrument. I must and will be just unto my self. When I have felt a torment that does equal the offence for which I suffer it, it'll confirm me, Bellanima is satisfied. Can Fortitude Be without Justice? Justice without Fortitude Is perfect in it self. When I am just, Valour is useful. Dis wade me not Bellanima, I cannot Think the dimensions of thy goodness such, That it may be extended to remit So great and ill without it's satisfaction. Then will I challenge thy forgiveness endue When I have suffered punishment; I dare not Owe all unto thy gentleness. It's taught m here; justice instructs me in't. Y to when I feel the lashes of their snakes Hells judges do employ: when vultures gnaw My growing liver, and the restless wheel Hu ryes my racked limbs, (for these torments are Less then my fault deserves,) I'll laugh at all, And with a scorn provoke the executioners till they are tired; and while they take in breath, Contrive some yet heard of. Fortitude Shall teach me to bear all, (their end being justice) With more delight, then when I did enjoy Pleasures with Sensuality. I will encounter With a whole host of death's, though each were armed In all artillery that ever conquered Mortality; meet thunder if but warned That it is coming, and be fixed unmoved Embrace the subtle fire, though one step Might guard me in a grove of Magic Baize Walled with Hien S skins. The apprehension Of horror shall not fright me, though presented In the most hideous shape conceit can paint. What apparition's this? or are you Furies Sent to torment me? Speak, and satisfy My growing fears, which Like and earthquake, when Penned air dilates it self with violence Do shake my trembling heart. It's not denied, no needs it other witness; I bear it in my Conscience. Yet reverend judge, Sorrow for ills passed does restore frail man To his first innocence. What mine hath been, My earth bed wet with nightly tears can witness, And sighs, have made the trembling air retire, Unwilling to be lodged in a sad breast Already filled with zeal. If a perseverance Sprung from a constant resolution, And joined unto this sorrow may prevail To the expiation of my former gilded, I hope forgiveness. As fates decrees Enrolled in steel. Nor will I be secure In any confidence of mine own strength: For such security is oft the mother Of negligence, and that occasion Of unremedied ru e. From instructions Found here, we will consult our after-safeties. And in all courses of my following life, I will be guided by my heavenly wife. Now your name? All these are humours, and must be my servants. What a vast bounty have the heavens given me? But I must labour to preserve them regular, And not exceeding their proportions Blood skipping about, justles Choler. Of substance or of quality, for then They will be Master's. Disagreeing! This kiss is more then Nectar.