LAMIA.

I was not quite myself—(not what I am)—
Yet something of the woman stayed within me,
To weep she was not dead.

LYCIUS.

Is this no fable?

LAMIA.

O most distrustful Lycius! Hear me call

On Heaven, anew, for vouchers to these facts.

[It thunders.

There! Could'st thou question that? Sweet skies I thank ye!

Now, Lycius, doubt me if you may or can;

And leave me if you will. I can but turn
The wretched creature that I was, again,

Crushed by our equal hate. Once more, farewell.

LYCIUS.

Farewell, but not till death. O gentlest, dearest,
Forgive my doubts. I have but paused till now
To ask if so much bliss could be no dream.

Now I am sure

Thus I embrace it with my whole glad heart
For ever and for ever; I could weep.

Thy tale hath shown me such a matchless love,
It makes the elder chronicles grow dim.

I always thought

I wandered all uncared for on my way,

Betide me good or ill-nor caused more tears
Than hung upon my sword. Yet I was hung

With dews, rich pearly dews-shed from such spheres
As sprinkle them in amber. Thanks, bounteous stars.
Henceforth you shall but rain your beams upon me
To bless my brightened days.

LAMIA.

O sweet! sweet! sweet!

To hear you parley thus and gaze upon you!
Lycius, dear Lycius!

But tell me, dearest, will you never—never
Think lightly of myself, nor scorn a love
Too frankly set before you! because 'twas given
Unasked, though you should never give again :
Because it was a gift and not a purchase-
A boon, and not a debt; not love for love,
Where one half's due for gratitude.

LYCIUS.

Thrice gracious seems thy gift!

LAMIA.

Oh, no! Oh, no!

I should have made you wait, and beg, and kneel,
And swear as though I could but half believe you;
I have not even stayed to prove your patience
By crosses and feigned slights-given you no time
For any bribing gifts or costly shows.

I know you will despise me.

LYCIUS.

Never, never,

So long as I have sight within these balls,
Which only now I've learned to thank the gods for.

LAMIA.

'Tis prettily sworn; and frankly I'll believe you! Now shall we on our way? I have a house (Till now no home) within the walls of Corinth : Will you not master it as well as me?

LYCIUS.

My home is in your heart; but where you dwell,
There is my dwelling-place. But let me bear you, sweet!

LAMIA.

No, I can walk, if you will charm the way
With such discourse; it makes my heart so light,
I seem to have wings within; or, if I tire,

APOLLONIUS is discovered discoursing with various young Gallants, namely, MERCUTIUS, CURIO, &c.

Hush, sirs!

APOLLONIUS.

You raise a tingling blush about my ears,
That drink such ribaldry and wanton jests-

For shame!--for shame!

You misapply good gifts the gods have granted!

MERCUTIUS.

The gods have made us tongues-brains, too, I hope—
And time will bring us beards. You sages think
Minerva's owl dwells only in such bushes.

CURIO.

Ha ha!-Why we'll have wigs upon our chins-
Long grizzled ones-and snarl about the streets,

Hugged up in pride and spleen like any mantle,

And be philosophers!

APOLLONIUS.

You will do wisely.

CURIO.

Ay-I hope-why not?

Though age has heaped no winter on our pates.
Is wisdom such a frail and spoiling thing

It must be packed in ice?

GALLO.

Or sopped in vinegar?

APOLLONIUS.

We would you were more gray—

MERCUTIUS.

Why, would you have us gray before our time?
Oh, Life's poor capital is too soon spent
Without discounting it. Pray do not grudge us
Our share ;—a little wine-a little love-
A little youth!—a little, little folly,

Since wisdom has the gross. When they are past,
We'll preach with you, and call 'em vanities.

APOLLONIUS.

No!-leave that to your mummies. Sure your act
Will purchase you an embalming. Let me see!-
Here's one hath spent his fortune on a harlot,
And if he kept to one it was a merit !—
The next has rid the world of so much wine-
Why that's a benefit. And you, Sir Plume,
Have turned your Tailor to a Senator;

You've made no man the worse-(for manner's sake;

My speech exempts yourself). You've all done well; If not, your dying shall be placed to your credit.

CURIO.

You show us bravely-could you ever praise one?

APOLLONIUS.

One? and no more! why then I answer, yes-
Or rather, no; for I could never praise him.
He's as beyond my praise as your complexion—
I wish you'd take a pattern!-

CURIO.

Of whose back, sir?

APOLLONIUS.

Ay, there you must begin and try to match
The very shadow of his virtuous worth,
Before you're half a man.

MERCUTIUS.

Who is this model?

An ape-an Afric ape-what he and Plato
Conspire to call a Man.

APOLLONIUS.

Then you're a man already; but no model,
So I must set my own example up;

To show you Virtue, Temperance, and Wisdom,
And in a youth too!-

Not in a withered graybeard like myself,

In whom some virtues are mere worn-out vices,
And wisdom but a due and tardy fruit.

He, like the orange, bears both fruit and flower
Upon his odorous bough-the fair and ripe !—