To love thee racks my soul with torment drear,
Thus step by step already am I come,
Drawn in these different ways to my last doom.
ERASTRO.
Elicio, mark! how gladly would I pour
At Galatea's feet all that she hath left
To me in life, if but she would restore
The heart and soul whereof I am bereft.
My herd I would bestow, and furthermore
My Spot and Hawk, if she would but the theft