Siege, The: Or, Love's Convert, A Tragi-Comedy - Act 4. Scene 8

ACT . IV. S CEN. VIII.

Callimachus to her.

Pyl . O! I may languish here for ought you know.
You are a proper Servant: I do fear
You but pretend Me onely, meane my Wealth,
I'm neer my Death, you think, something may fall,
And 'tis not good to be much out o'th' way.
You visit, and not wooe.
Call . I know this is
That sneaking, fawning Prusias tells you so.
I'm truer than his haire, or teeth, or nose.
My meaning's honester than his, although
My words don't smell so well.
Pyl . You true? to what?
To your variety? your shift of Mistresses,
When you have none of Shirts? I hope you will
Confesse y' have conquer'd Beauties, more than Towns.
Call. Prusias again upon my life. I doe
Confesse, that like the wandring foot o'th' Compasse,
I have been somewhat Mortall in that sort,
But like the constant one hereafter will
Keep to the Center, onely move at home.
My Rings shall all b' engrav'd with holy Posies,
As, Constant untill Death — — Endlesse as this — —
So is my love — — Not Hands but Hearts — — all which
I'll practice in my life and conversation.
Nay this wild Centaure on my sword here, shall
Be turn'd into a Turtle, and th' Inscription
( Conquest and Maidenheads ) shall be blotted out
To give way to that tame word, Chastity .
Pyl . For all my jesting I not doubted you:
I know you are as ready to performe,
As I am to command.
Cal . Would you could see
The Heart of your Callimachus : you'd wonder
To view your self full seated in the midst,
And domineering over all my Bowels.
Performe what you command? I'l fight against
Heaven it self, and yet no Gyant neither,
No live Collossus as I take it.
Pyl. Here.
Within this Scrowl's prescrib'd what I would have you
Do for my sake; a way will prove your faith.
And when 'tis prov'd call Pyle yours.
Cal. — — Remember — —
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