University of Virginia Library

Scen. VII.

To them Timophilus, Cleodemus, Callimachus, Philostratus, Prusias, without weapons.
Tim.
Most Noble Citizens, 'tis very kindly
Done of you, thus to visit your faire Virgin.

Eud.
Perhaps you think to complement us out
Of our revenge; where are your Swords? your Weapons?

Tim.
There, in that Chair.

Eud.
This meerly is a Plot.

Cle.
I would Misander did dissemble only!
Alas! the Passion is too true. I wrong it
When that I call it Passion: 'tis a Madness,
A Frensie rather. Would he lov'd us so
As he doth you, Eudemus, and your Daughter.

Eud.
I would he did; I'm sure hee'd wound you then.

Cle.
Heaven can witness, that was his mistake:
You must complain of Fortune, not of him.

Tim.
You would do very nobly to conclude
A Truce between both parts till he recover.
I'm sure it is not your desire to end
The business of a Field in a Bedchamber.

Pat.
We can't suspect that Treachery can have
A lodging in your Brest.

Pru.
To wipe off all
Such thoughts, I am most willing to become
Hostage my self.

Cal., Phi.
And we too if you please.

Pat.
If you'l consent, Eudemus, I my self,
With Scedasus, and Epigenes, will be th' Exchange.

Eud.
Being you'l have it so, I will.

Sced., Epig.
And we.

Cle.
May from these pledges spring such setled Peace
That we ne'r need these mutuall Offices
For its Assurance—

Pat.
And our strength hence grow
Weak to our selves, but potent to our Foe.

Misand. desists his contemplation as Leuc. awakens. They depart enterchangeably. Manent Mis. Euth. Leuc.
Mis.
I am return'd again; I was transported,
And drunk in Revelations from the sight
Of your diviner Front. Me thoughts I saw
Venus, impregnate at one beck of Jove,
Deliver'd of a wing'd and star-like Infant;
At whose blest Birth the Spheres sung high, and loud,
And each thing else rejoyc'd; only a Soul
There was, which striving to destroy the Child
Presented it a Mixture made of Tears,
And Sighs, and Passions, instead of Nectar.
For this condemn'd to take it all her self,
She drank it, and grew Mad: Being thus distracted,
The Father of the World, and Love (that was
The little Infant) did forthwith confine her
Unto the Prison of an humane Body;
And only left her this way to regain
Her former Seat, by using the Child well.

Euth.
Be your own Tutor then; Dyet that Child
With pure and simple Viandes; let no Passion
Trouble the Cup; or if some one slip in,
Purge and correct it, that it only give
A pleasing relish to the rest, and thence
Prove an Encitement only, no Disease.

Mis.
Alas! you talk of streams fresh from the chaste
Resplendent Gravell of the purer Fountain.
The waters that I taste have journi'd through
All Minerals, and have stoln somewhat from each;
Straying as far in Qualities from the Fountain
As they've in space.

Euth.
The Eye of Love, like that
O'th' Body, if distemper'd, is to be
Help'd by the Influx of some harmless Color.
If then your Soul see ill (for that 's Love's Eye)
Cure it, by looking on her healing Vertues.

Mis.
True, I must take those good Perfections
Only from her; I am my self as void
Of all, as Tables not yet lineate,
And only love to gain 'em.

Euth.
You love them
In a desire of supplement.

Mis.
Had Heav'n
Given me all th' Endowments of my Saint,
I should rejoice as much in mine own Beauties
As now I sigh for hers. To love her would
Be a superfluous thing, my self sufficing
My self, as once Narcissus did Narcissus.

Eut.
You seem to stray Sir from the Common Tenent
That Woman is but the defect of Man,
In that you make her thus his Complement.

Mis.
And rightly: 'Tis she gives him operation.
Her Beauty 'tis that's Valorous, Liberall, Just:
Our Vertues only are but other Names
Of her Perfections; some good thing of hers
Disguis'd i'th' shape of Action. Thus at first
The Servant hath not that great Light and Beauty
Of better thoughts, that his blest Fair one hath;
But by conversing, and Example, grows
Up to the same vigor and force of honour;
As the weak Taper that is kindled from
The fuller light, shews first a fainter Beam,
But by the eager growth of Flames, casts forth
A Lustre still encreasing, till both, being
At the same measur'd brightness, do combine,
And twist by intermingled Beams, uniting
Themselves into one Circular flux of Glories.

Leu.
Who hath inspir'd you thus? me thinks that mind
Which ere while like the place below the Moon
Had Thunders, Lightnings, Whirlwinds, and such other
Unruly Meteors, is now like the State
Of that above, where still one equall Calm,
One soft continued Quietness doth hush
All that wheels round about it, making things
Pass without Noise, and yet with Musick too.
Had you but ere while shewn such mildness, you
Had wounded my Soul then.

Mis.
Unworthy Wretch!
By your instructions yet that name may be
Chang'd to a Title equalling ev'n Heav'n.
Speak, and I'l listen as some holy Priest
To the high Dictates of his whispering God.

Leu.
Thus then, Love, whether he be found i'th' Fields
'Mong Beasts (where some think he was born, and as
He grew up practiz'd shooting upon them)
Or else 'mong Laws, and Men (where now his Temples,
His Altars, and his Statutes are) is alwaies
Each where a thing Divine, and ought as such
Be worship'd by all that pretend to good.
Love having this Divinity in us
Far above other Creatures, in that he
Hath chosen out Man's Countenance to place
Two sparks of it, whence Hearts are easily kindled,
Man ought to cherish this fire by good Reason,
And make it burn more cleer, substracting from it
All grosser stuff: I banish not the Senses
When I name Reason; for as we must please
The Mind and Soul, so we must feed the Sight,
And sometimes too the Touch; in that we are
Not Reason only, but Eye too, and Hand.

Mis.
I do acknowledge all as Oracle,
Let me adore those Lips that utter'd it.

Leuc.
This doth not yet give way to your Embrace,
Or Authorize your Kiss: think not of any
Such thing, lest like the impatient Orpheus, you
By looking back lose what yo' have gain'd from Death.
You are not yet arriv'd at that perfection
As to participate those Sweets; your Merits
Must grow up to them: to transgress their bounds
Would be to wrong your self; for disproportion'd
Felicity, is a Misery. First, conceive
And think, and Fancy honourably within,
And then take leave t' embrace, & Crown those thoughts.
For they that love a Lip or Hand, love grosly:
Affection compasseth, not enters them;
Having, as th' Earth, the Surface scorch'd by th'Sun,
Whiles that the Center rests cold and benum'd.
Beasts and Plants move to propagate their like;
Our Love must then step higher, and contend
To make our selves Immortall: which is done
When each by dying in himself doth come
To live in something made of both these Deaths,
As doth the Voice and Lute in a third Musik,
Or Musk and Amber in a third Perfume.
And this the Gods and we call perfect Love.

Mis.
One Voice is Heav'n's and yours: now I perceive
That as the Earth enlightned by the Sun
Sends forth those fumes which after darken him;
So our Hearts kindled by our Reason first
Cloud the serenity of that by strange
And grosser Appetites. But you have drawn
The Veyl away that was before Love's Eyes.
Which Veyl yet was not his, but ours, he being
Said to want Eyes, because we walk in Secret,
And unknown Paths. Great Diety of Affections,
Thou art first fair and good thy self, and then
Mak'st others to be so. O pardon us
Blasphemers then, who do the Blame transfer;
And say that thou art blind, because we Err.

Exeunt.