Fry. Yes, and a devout one too; I heard him preach.
Clar. That lessens my belief,
For though I grant my Lidian a Scholar,
As far as fits a Gentleman, he hath studied
Humanity, and in that he is a Master;
Civility of manners, Courtship, Arms;
But never aim'd at (as I could perceive)
The deep points of Divinity.
Fry. That confirms his
Devotion to be real, no way tainted
With ostentation, or hyp[ocr]isie,
The cankers of Religion; his Sermon
So full of gravity, and with such sweetness
Deliver'd, that it drew the admiration
Of all the hearers on him; his own Letters
To you, which witness he will leave the World,
And these to fair Olinda, his late Mistriss,
In which he hath with all the moving language
That ever express'd Rhetorick, solicited
The Lady to forget him, and make you
Blessed in her embraces, may remove
All scrupulous doubts.
Clar. It strikes a sadness in me.
I know not what to think of 't.
Fry. Ere he entred
His solitary Cell, he pen'd a Ditty,
His long, and last farewel to Love and Women,
So feelingly, that I confess however
It stands not with my order to be taken
With such poetical Raptures; I was mov'd,
And strangely with it.
Clar. Have you the Copy?
Fry. Yes, Sir;
My Novice too can sing it, if you please
To give him hearing.
Clar. And it will come timely,
For I am full of melancholy thoughts,
Against which I have heard with reason Musick
To be the speediest cure, 'pray you apply it.
A Song by the Novice.
Adieu fond love, farewel you wanton powers,
I am free again;
Thou dull Disease of bloud, and idle hours;
Bewitching pain,
Flye to the Fools that sigh away their time,
My nobler love to Heaven doth climb,
And there behold Beauty still young,
That Time can ne'r corrupt, nor Death destroy;
Immortal sweetness by fair Angels sung,
And honour'd by Eternity and Joy:
There lives my love, thither my hopes aspire,
Fond love declines, this heavenly [love] grows higher.