Dia. How little Love is understood by thee,
’.is Custom, and not Passion you pursue;
Because Enjoyment first was nam’d by me,
It does destroy what shou’d your Flame renew:
My easy yielding does your Fire abate,
And mine as much your tedious Courtship hate.
Tell Heaven—you will hereafter sacrifice,
—And see how that will please the Deities.
The ready Victim is the noblest way,
Your Zeal and Obligations too to pay.
Cel. I think the Gods wou’d hardly be ador’d,
If they their Blessings shou’d, unask’d, afford;
And I that Beauty can no more admire,
Who ere I sue, can yield to my Desire.
Dia. Dull Youth, farewel: For since ‘tis my Revenge that I pursue Less Beauty and more Man as well may do. [Offers to go.
Enter Friendlove disguised, as one from a Camp.
Cel. Madam, you must not go with this Mistake. [Holds her.
Friend. Celinda has inform’d me true—’tis she— Good morrow, Brother, what, so early at your Devotions?
Cel. O, my Brother’s come, and luckily relieves me. [Aside.
Friend. Your Orizons are made to a fair Saint.
—Pray, Sir, what Lady’s that?
—Or is it blasphemy to repeat her Name?
—By my bright Arms, she’s fair—With what a charming
Fierceness, she charges through my Body to my Heart.
—Death! how her glittering Eyes give Fire, and wound!
And have already pierc’d my very Soul!
—May I approach her, Brother?
Cel. Yes, if you dare, there’s danger in it though, She has Charms that will bewitch you: —I dare not stand their Mischief. [Exit.
Friend. Lady, I am a Soldier—yet in my gentlest Terms
I humbly beg to kiss your lovely Hands—
Death! there’s Magick in the Touch.
By Heaven, you carry an Artillery in every part.