Bel. Fye, fye, how fond is this!
What reason for this surfeit of remorse?
How many that have done ill and proceed,
Women that take degrees in wantonness,
Commence, and rise in rudiments of Lust,
That feel no scruple of this tenderness?
Mer. Pish.
Bel. Nor are you matchless in mishap, even I
Do bear an equal part of misery;
That love, belov'd, a man the Crown of men,
Whom I have friended, and how raised 'tis better
That all do know and speak it than my self:
When he sail'd low I might have made him mine,
Now at his full gale, it is questionable
If ever I o're-take him.
Ag. Wherefore sits
My Phebe shawdowed in a sable cloud?
Those pearly drops which thou let's fall like beades,
Numbring on them thy vestal Orisons
Alas are spent in vain: I love thee still,
In mids't of all these showres thou sweetlier sent'st,
Like a green Meadow on an April day,
In which the Sun and west-wind play together,
Striving to catch and drink the balmy drops.
Enter Euphanes and Servant.
Ser. The Lord Ephanes Madam. [Exit Mer.
Ag. Poor Merione,
She loathes the light, and men. [Exit.
Euph. The virtuous gods preserve my Mistriss.
Bel. O my most honor'd Lord, those times are chang'd.
Euph. Let times and men change, could Heaven change, Euphanes
Should never change, to be devoted ever
To fair Beliza, should my load of honors,
Or any Grace which you were Author of
Detract mine honor, and diminish Grace?
The gods forbid: you here behold your servant,
Your Creature, gentle Lady, whose sound sleeps
You purchas'd for him: whose food you paid for,
Whose garments were your charge, whose first preferment
You founded: then, what since the gracious Queen
Hath, or can rear, is upon your free Land,
And you are Mistris of.