University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Chorvs, Mysti, Polydor.
Pol.
O welcom, welcom, and in this general dismay,
Tell us, since Love so gentle was of old,
As w'ar by Antient Sages told,
Whence is it, that to day
He so tyrannical and cruel proves?

Mysti.
That's Fortunes fault, & none of Love's,—for know,
Love and Death o'th' way once meeting,
Having pass'd a friendly greeting,
Sleep their weary ey-lids closing,
Lay them down themselves reposing;
When this Fortune did befall um,
Which after did so much apall 'um:
Love whom divers cares molested,
Could not sleep, but whilst Death rested,
All in hast away he posts him,
But his hast full dearly costs him;
For it chanc'd that going to sleeping,
Both had given their darts in keeping
Unto Night, who, Errors mother,
Blindly knowing not th'one from th'other,
Gave Love Death's, and ne'r perceiv'd it,
Whilst as blindly Love receiv'd it;
Since which time, their darts confounding,
Love now kils, instead of wounding,
Death our hearts with sweetness filling,
Gently wounds, instead of killing.

Pol.
Next, pray tell us with what fire
Our brests are charg'd, that our desire
And hearts so vehemently shou'd move
Towards the Object of our Love?

Mysti.
That speculation is more high,
And deeper the Philosophie;
Know, that from the Impulsion
Of self-divided things does come,
Which separated, are in pain
To re-unite and joyn again,
As branches we asunder bend,
Forcibly again tow'rds one another tend;
For Nature did both sexes knit
At first in one Hermaphrodit,
Till finding by conjunction so near,
Both but more dull, and more unactive were
To edge their Appetite agen
She sever'd and dis-joyned them,
Whence does proceed that gentle pain,
And longing appetite to conjoyn again.