 | Love's Labyrinth |  |
Scæn. 4.
Enter King Damocles melancholy, 2 Lords.Kin.
How wretched am I grown, I hate my self,
And care not now for my own company:
I loath thee light, and fain would hide my self
From mine own eyes; I'm wearie of my life.—
Where shall I hide my self, that there I may
Deceive th'approaches of discov'ring day?
I'll seek some gloomy cave, where I may lie,
Entomb'd alive in shades of secrecie.
Exit.
1 Lo.
His thoughts are much perplex't, & black despair,
May push him on unto some desp'rate act,
If not prevented by our vigilance.
2 Lo.
This is th'effect of rash resolves, when hast
And passion hurry men to do those things
Reason would wish undone, at least delay'd.
Our wills spur'd on by rage, ne're stop, till we
(Blinded with anger) headlong throw our selves
From dangers præcipice, into a gulf
Of black despairing thoughts; and then too late
Repentance lends us so much light as may
Shew us our madness, and our miserie.
1 Lo.
Ill actions never go unpunished;
They are their own tormentors, and do prove
38
2 Lo.
When reason is depos'd, & passion reigns,
Nothing but lawless actions do appear:
When passion hath usurp't the helm,
And steers a wild uncertain course, not by
The card and compass of advice, the ship
Will never make good voyage, but be tost
Upon the waves, and all her lading lost.
He by his wilful rage hath cast away
Himself, and floats upon the waves of ruine:
Let's try if we can waft him safe to shore,
Lend him our helping hands, lest he do sink
Into that deep and black gulf of despair.
1 Lo.
Let's after him, and try what we can do,
In saving him, we save our Kingdom too.
Exeunt.
| Love's Labyrinth | |