So. To gods’ and[337] good men’s shame.
Sy. Help, Vangue, my strong blood boils.
So. O[338] yet save thine own fame.
Sy. All appetite is deaf; I will, I must.
Achilles’ armour could not bar[339] out lust.
So. Hold thy strong arm, and hear me. Syphax, know
I am thy servant now: I needs must love thee,
For (O, my sex, forgive!) I must confess
We not affect protesting feebleness, 30
Entreats, faint blushings, timorous modesty;
We think our lover is but little man,
Who is so full of woman. Know, fair Prince,
Love’s strongest arm’s not rude; for we still prove,
Without some fury there’s no ardent love.
We love our love’s impatience of delay;
Our noble[340] sex was only born t’obey,
To him that dares command.
Sy. Why, this is well;
Th’ excuse is good: wipe thy fair eyes, our Queen,
Make proud thy head; now feel more friendly strength
Of thy lord’s arm: come, touch my rougher skin 41
With thy soft lip. Zanthia, dress our bed.
Forget old loves, and clip him that through blood
And hell acquires his wish; think not but kiss,
The flourish fore love’s fight and[341] Venus’ bliss.
So. Great dreadful lord, by thy affection,
Grant me one boon. Know I have made a vow—
Sy. Vow! what vow? speak.
So. Nay, if you take offence,
Let my soul suffer first, and yet——