 | The Jealous Lovers |  |
SCEN. VIII.
Evadne, Ballio, Asotus.Evad.
Then from the world abjure thy self, Evadne,
And in thy quiet death secure the thoughts
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Could prompt me on to die, were not that death
Doubled in loosing him. Th' Elysian fields
Can be no paradise while he's not there:
The walks are dull without him.
Asot.
Such a qualm
O'th' sudden.
Ball.
Fie, turn'd coward? Resolution
Is the best sword in warre.
Asot.
Then I will on,
And boldly.—Yet—
Ball.
What? will you lose the day
E're you begin the battell?
Asot.
Truely, Tutour,
I have an ague takes me every day,
And now the cold fit's on me.
Ball.
Go home and blush,
Thou sonne of fear.
Asot.
Nay, then I'le venture on
Were she ten thousand strong. Hail heavenly Queen
Of beauty, most illustrious Cupids daughter
Was not so fair.
Ball.
His mother.
Asot.
'Tis no matter.
The silly damsell understands no Poetrie.
Daigne me thy lippe as blue as azure bright.
Ball.
As red as ruby bright.
Asot.
What's that to th' purpose?
Is not azure blue, as good as ruby red?
Evad.
It is not charitable mirth to mock
A wretched Ladies griefs. The gods are just,
And may requite you with a scorn as great,
As that you throw on me.
Asot.
Not kisse a Gentleman?
And my father worth thousands?—Resolution
Spurre me to brave atchievements.
Evad.
Such a rudenesse
Some Ladies by the valour of their servants
Could have redeem'd.—Ungentle god of love,
Write not me down among the happier names,
I onely live a martyr in thy flames.
Exit.
Asot.
This is such a masculine feminine gender!
Ball.
She is an Amazon both stout and tall.
Asot.
Yet I got this by strugling. If I fit you not,
(a diamound ring out of her eare.
Proud squeamish coynesse! Tutour, such an itch
Of kissing runnes all o're me. I'le to Phryne,
And fool away an houre or two in dalliance.
Ball.
Go, I must stay to wait on fair Techmessa,
Who is as jealous of young Pamphilus,
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Asot.
Surely, Tutour,
I must provide me a suit of jealousie:
It will be all the fashion.
| The Jealous Lovers | |