Love is not full of pity, as men say,
But deaf and cruel where he means to prey.300
And now she wish'd this night were never done,
And sigh'd to think upon th' approaching sun;
For much it griev'd her that the bright day-light
Should know the pleasure of this blessèd night,
And them, like Mars and Erycine, display[38]
Both in each other's arms chain'd as they lay.
Again, she knew not how to frame her look,
Or speak to him, who in a moment took