CELESTINE

Then pleasure is a thief, a fit, a fever: God keep thy honour safe, my blood from harm. A constant wife. Virgins never change their life, She that is wived a maid, is Maid and wife. Thrice happy then. 'Tis overtaken. Women are overtaken when they meet; It were good, If every Maiden blush, had such a blood. I thank the good Sir Vaughan, I will come. Then, o my father must I go? Oh my husband Shall I then go? Oh my self, will I go? I will, but give me leave, To say I may not, nor I ought not, say not Still, I must go, let me entreat I may not. Then keep that word To swear by, Oh let me be constant still. If breaking constancy thou breakest them both. I may be constant still, and yet not true. Must I then go 'tis easy to say no, Must is the King hims life, and I must go; Shall I then go? that word is thine; I shall, Is thy command: I go because I shall; Will I then go? I ask my self; o ill, King, says I must; you, I shall; I, I will. Why didst thou swear? And oath? why, what's and oath? 'tis but the smoke, Of flame & blood; the blister of the spirit, Which rizeth from the Steam of rage, the bubble That shoots up to the tongue, and scalds the voice, ( or oaths are burning words) thou worst but one, 'Tis frozen long ago: if one be numbered, What Countrymen are they? where do they dwell That speak nought else but oaths? Nor I to answer him. I, I am death's echo. Welcome, o poison physic against lust, Thou wholesome medicine to a constant blood; Thou rare Apothe carry that canst keep, My chastity preserved, within this box; Of tempting dust, this painted earthen pot, That stands upon the all of the white soul, To set the shop out Like a flatterer, To draw the customers of Sin: come, come, Thou art no poison, but a diet-drink, To moderate my blood: White-innocent Wine, Art thou made guilty of my death? o no, For thou thy self art poisoned, take me hence, For Innocence, shall murder Innocence. 'Tis done already, the Spiritual Court, Is breaking up; all Offices discharged, My soul removes from this weak standing house, Of frail mortality: Dear Father, bless Me now and ever: Dearer Man farewell, I jointly take my leave of thee and life, Go, tell the King thou hast a constant wife. Not to be thy wife, But first I plead my duty, and salute The world again. Better lead Apes then men. Men, were Maids cowards, they not come so never, My Lord the Measure's done, I pleale my duty. As thus, by violence detained, They may be constant still, that are constrained. Let lose thy oath so shall we still be even. Must I betray my Chastit ? So long Clean from the treason of rebelling lust; Oh husband! Oh my ather! if poor , Must not live chased, then let me cham lie die. We shall have sport to see them; come bright beauty's, The Sun stoops low, and whispers in our ears, To hasten on our Mask, let's crown this night, With choice composed wreathes of sweet delight.