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Scene 4.
Amarillis.Oh Mirtillo! oh my dearest soule
Could'st thou but see into her hart whom thou
Call'st cruell Amarillis, then wouldst thou say
Thou hadst that pittie which thy hart desires.
Oh mindes too much infortunate in loue!
What bootes it thee my hart to be belou'd?
What bootes it me to haue so deare a Loue?
Why should the cruell fates so disvnite
Whō loue conioines? and why should traiterous loue
Conioyne them whom the destenies do part?
Oh happie sauadge beasts whom nature giues
No lawes in loue, saue verie loue it selfe.
Inhumane humane lawe, that punish'st
This loue with death, if't be so sweet to sin,
And not to sin so necessary bee,
Or law too hard that nature doth offend.
But tush she loues too litle that feares death,
Would gods death were the worst that's dut to sin.
Deare chastitie, th'inviolable powre
Of soules well-borne that hast my amorous will
Retein'd in chaines of holy rigour still:
To thee I consecrate my harmlesse sacrifize.
And thou my soule (Mirtillo) pardon me,
That cruell am where I should piteous bee.
Pardon her that in lookes and onely words
Doth seeme thy foe, but in my heart thy friend.
If thou wouldst be reueng'd, what greater paine
Wouldst thou inflict, then this my cruel griefe?
Thou art my heart, and shalt be spite of heauen
And earth, when thou dost plaine & sigh, and weep,
Thy teares become my bloud, thy sighes my breath:
And all thy paines they are not onely thine,
For I then feele, and they are turned mine.
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