VALENS

Still plodding at your Book, shall we never find You otherwise; Pox of this sad muttering To your self; hang't up, it's a disease to Sweet alacrity, of all true jovial Minds to be abhorred, come.— Offers to take away the Book. Out upon't; drink me and whore; those are The virtues best, and best accepted among Gallants of this age. Pish; were't not for sparkling beauty, precious woman, Woman I say, that fair and winning creature, Whose never to be resisted delicate touch, Divides us into all the sweets of sense, Were't not for her, (glorious sweet faced woman,) Man makes no use of his Creation, What says our Roman phrase, Si non letaris vivens laetabere nanquam. Leave then this puling study and be ruled. Hang up Philosophy that Scene of sorrow, Come go with me to beauty's fair abided, There, if you'll make true trial of your strength, Let it be there employed; do but withstand The catching beauty's there, and spite of all Their powerful charms and incantations Come freely off, untainted with the Act. For ever I'll abjure to be seduced By the world's quainte enticements; betake me Wholly to Philosophy, and practice The same in life. Talk not but do't. Come Sir, we'll enter you. Silius you're snared; and we our wager won. Oh happy state. Thrice happy, I'de not change Earth for Jove's felicity. I'de do't, though Phaeton Like, The hight receipt should fire this Fabric. I that know none more worthy then my self Of true regard and worth; would be resolved What's he, that bears the valiant mind of man Dares for his mighty sovereign Mistress more Then Urctius Valens. That our bloods decide. Stand all so firm, this Seal express my rage. I'll study Art in love for recompense. It's a fit bound unto your boundless glory. Else, how should the means to his high ay e, Free from the plots of blood thus fairly greet Without least flaw in safety. Refresh to memory The Acts of blood that reigned in Scylla's days Brave Silius go on, and Prosper, and command me ever And all. For changes in each dance my brain shall work. Now, Does he claw Like a decayed Tradesman when To maintain the wagging of his chaps His wives Venerial Firkin must to Sale. It'll never take Unless you bring in the dapper dancer, With his la ta tat a teero tat a tant Ta ra rat a ta too rant tat a ta teero tat a too, Flinging away his legs, and screwing his face Into the fury of a thousand fools. Whose this? Mad-madam Lepida a sleep. Spoke Like thy self my metropolitan Cut throat of chastity. That deep carouse, makes Vectius Valens see. In my minds eye me thinks, A moving Army coming from Hostiam. Oh mighty horns. What? fly? And leave you here; first with this hand I'll tear my bowels out, and sacrifice My heart's last leave to life. None here but scorns To plead with humble baseness, low submission For miserable mercy. Fullness of joy, My lustful blood flows from me, man's never blessed, Till freed by death; locked from the world's unrest. Die So deeply swear That may loves thunder strike when we forsake Our vows. Prithee be not thus bitter unto they, Poor necessary evils they pleasure us.