Mir. And can you be so
Cruel, thankless, to destroy his youth
That say'd your honor, gave you double life?
Your own, and your fair Infants? that when fortune
(The blind foe to all beauty, that is good,)
Bandied you from one hazard to another,
Was even heavens Messenger, by providence
Call'd to the Temple, to receive you there,
Into these Arms, to give ease to your throwes,
As if't had thunder'd; take thy due Miranda,
For she was thine; Gomera's jealousie
Struck death unto thy heart; to him be dead,
And live to me, that gave thee second life:
Let me but now enjoy thee: Oh regard
The torturing fires of my affections.
Ori. Oh master them, Miranda, as I mine;
Who follows his desires, such tyrants serves
As will oppress him insupportably.
My flames, Miranda, rise as high as thine,
For I did love thee 'fore my marriage,
Yet would I now consent, or could I think
Thou wert in earnest, (which by all the souls
That have (for chastity) been sanctified
I cannot) in a moment I do know
Thou'ldst call fair temperance up to rule thy blood,
Thy eye was ever chaste, thy countenance too honest,
And all thy wooings was like Maidens talk;
Who yieldeth unto pleasures, and to lust
Is a poor captive, that in Golden Fetters
(And pretious (as he thinks) but holding gyves)
Frets out his life.
Mir. Find such another woman,
And take her for his labour, any man:
Ori. I was not worthy of thee, at my best,
Heaven knew I was not, I had had thee else;
Much less now gentle Sir; Miranda's deeds
Have been as white as Oriana's fame,
From the beginning to this point of time,
And shall we now begin to stain both thus?
Think on the legend which we two shall breed
Continuing as we are, for chastest dames
And boldest Soldiers to peruse and read,
I and read thorough, free from any act
To cause the modest cast the book away,
And the most honour'd Captain fold it up.
Mir. Fairest; let go my hand: my pulse beats thick,
And my mov'd blood, rides high in every vain,
Lord of thy self now, Soldier, and ever:
I would not for Aleppo, this frail Bark,
This bark of flesh, no better steers-man had
Than has Mountferrat's: may you kiss me, Lady?
Ori. No; though't be no essential injury,
It is a circumstance due to my Lord,
To none else: and my dearest friend, if hands
Playing together, kindle heat in you,
What may the game at Lips provoke unto?
Mir. Oh what a tongue is here! whil'st she doth teach
My heart to hate my fond unlawful love,
She talks me more in love, with love to her,
My fires she quencheth with her arguments,
But as she breathes 'em, they blow fresher fires.
Sit further: now my flame cools; Husband, Wife,
There is some holy mystery in those names
That sure the unmarried cannot understand.
Ori. Now thou art strait, and dost enamour me,
So far beyond a carnal earthly love;
My very soul doats on thee, and my spirits
Do embrace thine, my mind doth thy mind kiss,
And in this pure conjunction we enjoy
A heavenlier pleasure than if bodies met:
This, this is perfect love, the other short,
Yet languishing fruition, every Swain
And sweating Groom may clasp, but ours refin'd
Two in ten ages cannot reach unto;
Nor is our spiritual love, a barren joy,
For mark what blessed issue we'll beget,
Dearer than children to posterity,
A great example to mens continence,
And womens chastity, that is a child
More fair and comfortable, than any heir.
Mir. If all wives were but such, lust would not find
One corner to inhabit, sin would be
So strange, remission superfluous:
But one petition, I have done.
Ori. What (Sweet)?