Classic Poem

ACT . IV. S CEN. II.

To her Philondas and Paestanus as having stoln from the Army .

— Heav'n's of the Plot! No fitter men. Jove bless me!
My Lord Philondas , and my Lord Paestanus !
This your appearance to me's like the first
Appearance to a new admitted Priest,
And I am quite as doubtfull now as he,
Not knowing whether 't be my fancy, or
The God, that makes the Vision. Phil .
Dear Eumela ,
Thou know'st we do appear to Ladies still
In very flesh and bloud. Though we may talk
Of spirituall Love, my Lord, and I, you know,
Could ne'r creep in at Key-holes yet; I'm sure
We pay for th' opening of the doors, Eumela . Eum .
My Lord you make Paestanus blush. Paest .
I hope
I am not so ill bred Eumela . Eum .
Troth
The Camp hath spoyl'd you both. The Cretan Ladies
They say are far beyond our Cyprus Dames. Phi .
Yes to cleave Logs, and carry Burthens. Eum .
But
I mean for Beauty. Phil .
In whose Eyes, Eumela ?
In the Town-Buls? Eum .
They say the Gods have chang'd
Shapes, to come down, and visit 'em. Paest .
'Twas that
They might be like 'em then. Phi .
For Jove could never
Be a fit Husband for 'em, till he had
Got horns, and hoots. Eum .
Saw you no Children there? Paest .
What then Eumela ? ha'n't you read of Creatures
That have Conceiv'd by th' Air? — — Phi .
Don't think of any
Such thing as man? The Wind and Sun Eumela ,
Get all the Children there; that makes 'em bluster,
And rage so furiously when they are old. Paest .
Come, we lose time; where is Malthora prethee? Phi .
Answer him not; by Venus , these young Husbands
Are as impatient as a hungry Courtier,
Or a rich Heir come newly to his Means;
Do you hear me ask for Florina yet? Eum .
'Tis not in fashion, Sir, to love your Lady — — Phi .
At least you ought not to profess it. Paest .
I
Dare swear, though none professeth less, yet none
Loves more than you my Lord. Phi .
'Tis i'th' dark then;
Day-light and Love are two things. But, Eumela ,
What do they do for Men now we are absent?
Do they take Physick, or else Pray? Eum .
My Lord,
Their Griefs are in your places. Phi .
Have their sighs
Got Limbs, and Bodies? Can their sadness give 'em
Comfort at Midnight? Eum .
They possess it with
A kind of sweetness, are so tender of it,
That should they part with it, they'd think they had
A second loss. Paest .
How can they pass away
Their time with that? Eum .
Why 'tis as necessary
To them as Friend, or Confident. Paest .
But tell me
How does Malthora bear it? Eum .
Sir, she finds
That solitude in her self, that others do
Look for in Desarts. Paest .
Come my Lord, let's go
And help 'em to sigh for us. Eum .
They're to come
Hither my Lord: pray stand behind these hangings
Till I discover the whole Scene; In quickly.
Here, here they come.