Orfa. Here's one rides two Miles about, while another leaps a Ditch and is in before him. Phi. Where note the indirect way's the nearest. Phi. And here's another puts on, and falls into a Quagmire, (that is) follows the Court 'till he has spent all (for your Court Quagmire is want of Mony) there a Man is fure to stick, and then not one helps him out, if they do not laugh at him. I Court. What think you of him, that hunts after my Rate, and never fees the Deer? 2 Court. Why he is like fome young Fellow, that follows The Court, and never fees the King. Orfa. To Spur a Horfe 'till he is tir'd, is Phi. To importune a Friend 'till he be weary of you. Orfa. For then, upon the firft occafion, y'are thrown off, As I was now. Phi. This is nothing to the catching of your Horse, Orfames. Orfa. Thou fay'ft true, I think he is no tranfmigrated Philofopher, and therefore not likely to be taken with Morals. Gentlemen, your help---- the next I hope will Be yours, and then 'twill be my turn[Exeunt. Enter again, Marryed, Therfames, Aglaura, and Prieft. Ther. Fear not, my Dear; if when Love's Diet Was bare Looks, and thefe ftoln too, He yet did thrive; what then Will he do now, when every Night will be Agl. Will he not furfeit, when he once fhall come More than our Bodies wou'd for quenching thirst. For For we are Envy's Mark, and Court Eyes carry far. Your Prayers and Silence, Sir--- [To the Prieft.] [Exeunt. Enter Ariafpes and Iolas. Ari. If it fucceed, I wear thee here, my Iolas- The Idol of his Soul? and was not she You now, my Lord, must raise his Jealoufie, Ari. Right; and I will urge How dangerous 'tis unto the present State, Iolas. What if the Malecontents that use To come unto him were discovered? Ari. By no means, for 'twere in vain to give Him difcontent (which too muft needs be done) If they within him gav't not nourishment. Iolas. Well, I'll away firft, for the Print's too big "And fools it into Faith, for every thing: The The name of Virtue doth the People pleafe, [Exit. Enter Semanthe, Orithie, Orfames, and Philan. Sem. Think you it is not then The little Jealoufies, my Lord, and Fears, Joy mixt with Doubt, and Doubt reviv'd with Hope, That Crowns all Love with Pleasure? these are loft When once we come to full Fruition; Like waking in the Morning, when all Night Our Fancy has been fed with fome new ftrange Delight. So wou'd our Paffions; both alike must be Ori. Will you then place the Happiness, but there, Where the dull Plow-man, and the Plow-man's Horse Can find it out? Shall Souls refin'd not know How to preferve alive a noble Flame, But let it Die, burn out to Appetite? Sem. Love's a Camelion, and would live on Air, Órfa. Why there's it now! a greater Epicure Orfa. A mighty Prince, And full of Curiofity Harts newly flain Serv'd up intire, and ftuck with little Arrows. Phi. Sometimes a Chick plumpt up With Broth, with Cream, and Claret mingled Pomegranate Kernels, ftrew'd on Leaves of Lillies. The gray Phi. You forget his cover'd Dishes Of Jene-ftrays, and Marmalade of Lips, Perfum'd by Breath fweet as the Beans firft Bloffoms. And what's the Drink to all this Meat, my Lord? We would allow him: Orfa. True! but therefore this is but his common Diet ; Only ferves When his chief Cooks, Liking and Opportunity, -Madam. Ori. My Lord, there is fo little hope we shou'd convert And if we fhou'd, fo little got by it, That we'll not lofe fo much upon't as Sleep. Your Lordship's Servants (you, Orfa. Nay,Ladies, we'll wait upon you to your Chambers. Phi. Prithee let's fpare the Compliment, we shall do no Orf. By this Hand I'll try. (good. They keep me fafting, and I must be praying. [Exeunt. Aglaura undreffing of her felf, Iolina. It was the longest Day, this Enter Therfames. Ther. Softly, as Death it felf comes on, When it does fteal away the fick Man's Breath, Have I trod the Way unto thefe Lodgings. That give us Happines, order it? Sending us ftill Fears to bound our Joys, Which clfe wou'd overflow and lose themselves. See where fhe fits, Like Day retir'd into another World. Dear mine! where all the Beauty Man admires Where Sense does feaft, and yet where sweet Defire That never knew, nor faw Satiety; Tell me, by what Appoaches muft I come Agl. Needs there any new ones, where the Breach Is made already? you are entred here Long fince, Sir, here, and I have given up all. Ther. All but the Fort; and in fuch Wars as these, "Till that be yielded up, there is no Peace, Nor Triumph to be made. Come! undo, undo, And from thefe envious Clouds flide quick Into Love's proper Sphere, thy Bed. The weary Traveller, whom the bufie Sun Hath vext all Day, and scorch'd almost to Tinder, Ne'er long'd for Night as I have long'd for this. What rude Hand is that? One knocks baftily Go Jolina, fee, but let none enter ---[Iolina goes to the Door |