 | The Jealous Lovers |  |
SCEN. IX.
Ballio, Asotus, Chærilus, Simo, Hyperbolus, Thrasimachus, Tyndarus, Evadne.Tyn.
Blesse me eyes!
My troubled fancie fools me. I am lost
In a distracted dream. It is not she.
Awake thee Tyndarus: what strange sleeps are these!
Me thinks I am in hell, and yet behold
A glorious Angel there. Or have these devils
Broke into Paradise! for the place is such,
She blesses with her presence.—Meere contradictions,
Chimæras, of a restlesse brain.
Evad.
Diana,
And whatsoever Goddesse else protects
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To what a wildernesse have my wandring steps
Betray'd me! sure this cannot be a place
To meet my Tyndarus in.
Tyn.
'Tis Evadne,
'Tis the fair-foul Evadne. Now my sword,
That hadst a good edge to defend this woman,
Go send her soul into another mansion
Black as it self. It is too foul a tenant
For this fair palace. Stay yet, too forward steel,
Take her incircled in her stallions arms,
And kill two sinnes together.—Let 'um be
At hell to beare the punishment of lust
E're it be fully acted.
Evad.
What strange fancies
My maiden fears present me! Why, I know not:
But this suspicion seldome bodeth good.
Thras.
A handsome Bona Roba, and my prize.
Hyper.
I do deny't, she's my monopoly.
Chær.
Perchance she may one of the Muses be,
And then claim I a share for Poetrie.
Evad.
If ever silly lambe thus stray'd before
Into a flock of wolves; or harmlesse dove
Not onely made the prey, but the contention
Of ravenous eagles; such poore soul am I.
Thras.
Give me a busse, my girle.
Evad.
If there be here
A Gentleman in whom there lives a spark
Of vertue not yet out; I do beseech him,
By all the ashes of his ancestours,
And by the constant love he beares his mistresse,
To rescue innocence and virginity
From these base monsters. I for him will pay
A thousand prayers a morning, all as pure
And free from earthly thought, as e're found passage
Through the strict gate of heav'n.
Tyn.
That's a task for me.
Away fowl ravishers, I will teach my sword
Justice to punish you. Such a troup of Harpyes
To force a Ladies honour! I will quench
With your own bloud the rage of that hot lust
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Asot.
Flie, Phryne, flie, for dangers do surround.
Sim.
This is a pleasure that I care not for.
Exeunt.
| The Jealous Lovers | |