Forbad the execution of my fate,
Vntill her ioyfull progresse was expir’d.
For her doth Summer liue, and linger here.
And again, at the end of the play (l. 1841):
Vnto Eliza, that most sacred Dame,
Whom none but Saints and Angels ought to name,
All my faire dayes remaining I bequeath,
To waite vpon her till she be returnd.
Autumne, I charge thee, when that I am dead,
Be prest and seruiceable at her beck,