 | Love's Dominion |  |
SCENE II.
Euphanes in desperate Action of throwing himself on his Iavelin, withheld by Polydor.Pol.
You wo'n't be mad?
Eup.
I will be nothing but
For Love, and for Love I will be any thing.
Pray unhand me—shall Bellinda, the
Divine Bellinda, who is to Beauty what
Beauty is to others, all Grace and Ornament,
Shall she be banish'd hence to day? and shall
Euphanes live to see't?
Pol.
And shall Euphanes,
The gallant, and the brave Euphanes die
Only to prevent death? how low
And poorly wou'd it shew?—and that's the worst
That can come on't,—but I hope better still;
3
Done greater miracles than this, to make one young,
And fair, to love.
Eup.
“Who has onely miracles
“For Hopes, has Hopes but nigh Despair.
Pol.
Yet Time's
A mighty Qualifier of Fortune's harms,
And he who headlong throws himself into
Despair, precipitates his life, whilst he
Circumvents death, who lets himself down into 't by
degrees;—But pray consider, has she not promis'd
you, If any in Cypres she loves, it shall be you? and
Is this no hope?
Eup.
Just as much
As 'mong the numerous and unhappy throng
Of excluded Lovers, to stand next the door,
First expos'd t'affronts, and most concern'd
In the disgrace.
Pol.
Nay, if you give your self
Despair, there's none can give you Hope; at worst
If Euphanes loves Bellinda, as he says,
What hinders him following her whersoe'r she goes?
“Bootlesly and idlely does he complain
“Of Winter, who but following of the Sun
“Might still enjoy the Spring.
Eup.
But following an
Eclipsed Sun, what should he gain by it,
4
His Eys, and to his Heart black
Melancholy thoughts?
Pol.
Well Euphanes, as the Experient prove,
There are strange turns, strange mysteries in Love,
Who oft (as by experience we find)
Changes the most obstinate, obdurate mind:
For know, the Temple of Love is not compos'd,
As by th'grots ignorant vulgar 'tis suppos'd,
O'th' dull materials, Of dead senseless stones,
But he has more sensible and living ones,
The hearts of every one which he do's fit,
And apt at pleasure for composing it,
Of which some Nature makes so fit to love,
They with small difficulty Lovers prove:
Others so stuborn and unapt again,
They love not, but with mighty toil and pain;
And those who finally so useless prove
Th'are wholy unfit for th'fabrique of Love,
As in Bellinda, ('t may be) you'll see to day,
Offended Love do's cast 'um quite away—
But far be th'omen from my words, for though
't be more yet to be wish'd than hop'd, it is
Impossible she should not feel Love who
Do's make so many feel it, nor have no fire
In her herself, who kindles it in so many breasts—
But see Philona here makes me behold you as
A thing of pity.
Go haplesse youth, and sacrifise to Love,
Whose Deity you must have highly offended sure
Inflicts on you so heavy punishment,
To love one who neglects you, and neglect
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Eup.
Stay, you will
Not go I hope?
Pol.
Excuse me, i'th quarrels of Lovers
'tis dangerous interposing.
Eup.
I'll warrant you.
Love shoots not his darts so fast and vehemently
From either of our encountring eys
You need fear being shot.
Pol.
How ever I'll not trust you,
For in these pretty skirmishes
None knows
When you are friends or foes:
For now ther's falling out,
Now truce, Now war,
And then
Amity and peace agen.
So if you be foes, I'll not hinder your making friends;
If friends, Love keep you so.
| Love's Dominion | |