Isa. Desire, thou quenchless flame that burn’st our souls,
Cease to torment me;
The dew of pleasure shall put out thy fire, 20
And quite consume thee with satiety.
Lust shall be cool’d with lust, wherein I’ll prove
The life of love is only saved by love.
Enter Anna.
Anna. Madam, he’s coming.
Isa. Thou blessed Mercury,
Prepare a banquet fit to please the gods;
Let sphere-like[254] music breathe delicious tones
Into our mortal ears; perfume the house
With odoriferous scents, sweeter than myrrh,
Or all the spices in Panchaia.
His sight and touching we will recreate, 30
That his five senses shall be fivefold happy.
His breath like roses casts out sweet perfume;
Time now with pleasure shall itself consume.
Enter Gniaca in his hunting weeds.
How like Adonis in his hunting weeds,
Looks this same goddess-tempter!
And art thou come? This kiss entrance thy[255] soul!
Gods, I do not envy you; for, know this,
Way’s[256] here on earth complete, excels your bliss:
I’ll not change this night’s pleasure with you all.
Gni. Thou creature made by love, composed of pleasure, 40
That makest true use of thy creation,
In thee both wit and beauty’s resident;
Delightful pleasure, unpeer’d excellence.
This is the fate fix’d fast unto thy birth,
That thou alone shouldst be man’s heaven on earth.
If I alone may but enjoy thy love,
I’ll not change earthly joy to be heaven’s Jove:
For though that women-haters now are common,
They all shall know earth’s joy consists in woman.
Isa. My love was dotage till I lovèd thee, 50
For thy soul truly tastes our petulance;
Condition’s[257] lover, Cupid’s Intelligencer,
That makes man[258] understand what pleasure is:
These are fit tributes unto thy knowledge;
For women’s beauty o’er men bear that rule,
Our power commands the rich, the wise, the fool.
Though scorn grows big in man, in growth and stature,
Yet women are the rarest works of[259] nature.