Cup. One may be handsome, Sir,
And yet not pain'd, nor proud.
Pas. There you lie Cupid,
As bad as Mercury: there is no handsomness,
But has a wash of Pride and Luxury,
And you go there too Cupid. Away dissembler,
Thou tak'st the deeds part, which befools us all;
Thy Arrow heads shoot out sinners: hence away,
And after thee I'll send a powerful charm,
Shall banish thee for ever.
Cup. Never, never,
I am too sure thine own. [Exit.
Pas. Sings.
Hence all you vain Delights,
As short as are the nights,
Wherein you spend your folly,
There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see't,
But only melancholly,
Oh sweetest melancholly.
Welcome folded Arms, and fixed Eyes,
A sigh that piercing mortifies,
A look that's fastened to the ground,
A tongue chain'd up without a sound.
Fountain heads, and pathless Groves,
Places which pale passion loves:
Moon-light walks, when all the Fowls
Are warmly hous'd, save Bats and Owls;
A mid-night Bell, a parting groan,
These are the sounds we feed upon;
Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley,
Nothing's so dainty sweet, as lovely melancholly. [Exit.
Enter at another door Lapet, the Cupid's Brothers watching his coming.
1 Bro. So, so, the Woodcock's ginn'd;
Keep this door fast brother.
2 Bro. I'll warrant this.
1 Bro. I'll goe incense him instantly;
I know the way to't.