ALEXIS

Laurinda, (The name which but to speak I would not wish For life or breath.) Let not thy powerful beauty Torment us longer: Tell us which of us You valve most. Or if he cannot so, as sure he cannot, Yet he will rather choose to die then live Once to oppose your liking. How, me Laurinda? That word does relish immortality. Still more perplexed: what do you think I am? Which I? Thus you scorn my love. Damon, desist thy suit or lose thy life; Thou heardest Laurinda wish she were my wife. I am her head: That word does seem t'impart She means my marriage. But, Damon, I next to her heart do stand: I am her hope, in that you plainly see The end of her intents does aim at me. I am her flame. The flames the hotter, therefore her desire Most aims at me. She promised now I should enjoy her Bed. I see she still conceals it, and with speeches Perplexed and doubtful masks her secret thoughts. I go that way a hunting, And will call for her. And would she might prevail! All happiness to Damon be Except Laurinda. Thus we in love and courtesy contend. I much wonder, Dorylas, Amyntas can be sad, having such follies To provoke mirth. But I am never at home; Thou and I, Damon, Are absent from our selves. That may end One of our Misery's, and the others life! Now you are Like cruel To both, and play the tyrant equally, On him you hate as much as him you love. Oh those words to me Are Poison. And what am I? Most blessed I! this Garland once did twine About her head that now embraces mine. But me she gave That which was hers. I think it's greater kindness to receive. I will dispute no more. And determine of our fears. Come Damon, by this argument let us prove, Which 'tis of us Laurinda best does love. How early, Damon, do lovers rise? He that of us shall have Laurinda, Damon, Will not be up so soon: would! would you Damon? I much wonder the Sun so soon can rise! No summer, Damon. And he does rise From her to gaze on fair Laurinda's eyes. On whom depends our only happiness. Yes, the first we meet. Devotion's not so early up as love. That modest rose He grafted there. The virgins now come from the Temple. That name breathes life & soul to poor Alexis. As many joys crown mine With happiness. No other blessing hath preserved me. I'll instruct you, Take here the paper, pen and ink. You are to pass your censure, Being the first Nymph that we have met this morning, Which of us two must have the fair Laurinda. Write your award; our mutual oaths do bind us Not to deny't. Damon you wrong us both. How can it? you know, Damon, I have not been one minute from your presence. Neither, Nor I nor you could sleep one wink this night, The expectation of this morning trial Did keep us both awake. To lovers they are none, we break those bonds As easily as threads of silk: A bracelet Made of your maidens hair's a stronger chain Then twenty cobweb oaths, which while we break Venus but laughs: it must be your persuasion That works him to it. And when we left they He was incensed. Now I expect to hear my blessed doom. Oh, I am ruined in the height of hope. How Like the herb Solstitial is a lover, Now born, now dead again, he buds, sprouts forth, Flourishes, ripens, withers in a minute. Now my Laurinda, now (oh happy now!) All lets that stood between my joy and me Are gone and fled. Season? why, can love Be ever out of season? Lau. And such shall our affection still be seen. Loves, harvest shall; (Lovers you know) his harvest ought to be All the year long. A while in loves and age. It's but cold love that's temperate in desire. And I, but how unwilling Cupid knows! Dorylas, I have had the bravest sport. By Cupid th'art i'th right. The other the sure remedy of his death! These your ambiguous terms have now too oft Deluded us. Found Damon, she accepted love from ̄ thee, But what is more, she gave her love to me; In giving that to me, she proves my right. True, Damon, and perchance may ruin both Cruel breath! Beside this is the Sacred Vale, 'tis death To stain the hallowed grass but with one drop Of humane blood. And which is more, it's against her commands. We'll have her answer make a certain end. Come Damon, lets together seek relief. By those fair eyes, whose light Comfort my soul; Unless you deign at length to end our strife, On one another's spear. Or we'll resolve. what should this mean? The moral? To me she gave the honey, that must be The sweetest, and the sweetest sweet is she. But plain the honey speaks, no other guest But I, shall taste in her a lovers feast. And honey shows a wedding; that must knead A cake for Hymen ere we go to bed. Take you the wax; the honey is for me, There is no honey in the world but she. Most happy Dorylas! I 'le the while go fetch Laurinda, she shall force you stand Unto her trial. Come my Laurinda, through how many chances, Suspicions, errors, sorrows, doubts, and fears Love leads us to our pleasures; many storms Have we sailed through my Sweet, but who could fear A tempest, that had hope to harbour here. Pretty fool! lets now no more defer our nuptial (joys. In hunting, Dorylas: a brace of Grayhounds coursed a stag With equal swiftness till the wearied deer, Stood bay at both alike: the fearful dogs Durst neither fasten. My sweet affliction. Damon thou hast thy answer. Thus she gave life to me to tak't away: And by your argument, yours you did but give Love is the Garland. Come Damon! There's no help left but in a Pelian spear! Come Damon, you this night with me shall rest. We should have but short days.