University of Virginia Library

SCENA 1.

Hylas.
It was the cruell practise of my Fate,
That lifted me unto the height of blisse,
To make my fall the greater: for no sooner
Did I injoy the love of my Nerina,
But in a moment she was taken from me:
A love so dearely bought with sighs and teares,
So many yeares spent in the gaining her,
And lost in one poore minute: It is better
Alwaies to live a miserable life,
Then once to have bin happy: she is dead,
And I alive that cannot live without her:
Tis fit that I die too; but by what meanes?
By violence? No, that the Gods forbid.
A lingring greife, I neede not feare, will kill me,
When every day I shall repaire, as now,
Unto her tombe, and consecrate my teares,
And tearing sighs unto her blessed Ghost,
Some pittying God, when I'me disolv'd away
Upon her ashes, will congeale those teares,
That they may cloath her dust: whilst some kinde shepheard
Passing this way does write this on her grave.
See here Nerina, that from Hylas eyes
Fed her faire flame, now in their dew she lies.
Thus I will have it, so the words shall runne.