University of Virginia Library

Scen. 3.

Phil.
I prithee
If thou hast strength Lariscus tell him what
Sad chance hath rob'd our hearts of all delight
For I shall faint ith' repetition.

Lar.
Your comfort comes too late Cleobulus.

Cleob.
Too late! why pray?

Phil.
I prithee speak the sad news in his eare,
I dare not hear the sound: what thing is man?
How like a leafe toss'd by the winde? he knows
No certaine way. O love thou art concern'd
To bear a part in our revenge, and if
Thou bee'st a God, ayde two oppressed lovers
Against the lustfull Fiends have ravish'd all
Our joyes and wealth away!

Cleob.
You fright me Sir,
By Satyres snatcht away? and could you not
Pursue 'em?

Lar.
They had first surpris'd our weapons
With which they kept us back, whil'st two of their
Black crew flew from us with the prey,
Oh had you heard the cry of the wrong'd virgins!—

Phil.
Nay heaven did hear it too
But had no thunder ready, not one shaft
Of vengeance to throw upon the Ravishers.
Justice is dead, or in a sleep, and we
Poore mortalls pray and are not pittied.

Cleob.
Do yee know what then became of your two Mistresses?

Phil.
I know faire Arismena cannot live
After her bodies staine.

Cleob.
There came late to me
A grave learned Gentleman, that has
Great knowledge in the secret art of Magick,
I will intreat his skill in this afaire,
He'l tell us all the event: I'le to him my selfe,
Stay here a while.

Exit.
Lar.
Though I expect there can
Be nothing but more cause of sorrow for us,
Let's hear what he can say, or shew.

Phil.
He may
Direct us too, to order our revenge,
But I suspect no Art can tell us where
The poore things are.