Lav. Gentille, come hither: who's that Gentlewoman?
Gent. A child of mine, Sir, who observing custome,
Is going to the Monastery to her Prayers.
Lav. A fair one, a most sweet one; fitter far
To beautifie a Court, than make a Votarist.
Go on, fair Beauty, and in your Orizons
Remember me: will ye, fair sweet?
Casta. Most humbly. [Exeunt.
Lav. An admirable Beauty: how it fires me!
Enter a Spirit.
But she's too full of grace, and I too wicked.
I feel my wonted fit: Defend me, goodness.
Oh! it grows colder still, and stiffer on me,
My hair stands up, my sinews shake and shrink;
Help me good Heaven, and good thoughts dwell within me.
Oh get thee gone, thou evil evil spirit,
Haunt me no more, I charge thee.
Spir. Yes Lavall:
Thou art my vassal, and the slave to mischief,
I blast thee with new sin: pursue thy pleasure;
Casta is rare and sweet, a blowing Beauty;
Set thy desires a fire, and never quench 'em
Till thou enjoy'st her; make her all thy Heaven,
And all thy joy, for she is all true happiness:
Thou art powerful, use command; if that prevail not,
Force her: I'll be thy friend.
Lav. Oh help me, help me.
Spir. Her virtue, like a spell, sinks me to darkness. [Exit.