Des. She's gone;—
A star shot from her eye, and light'ned through
My blood. I must provide for thunder and
Thy revenge, De Flame, as horrid as thought can
Shape it.
Enter Cleara.
Cle. Sir!
Des. Proud love, I'll meet thee with burning sighs
And bleeding turtles at thy shrine. [Aside.
Cle. This is too bold a hazard for your health,
Which yet sits wan and troubled on your cheek.
Des. Madam!
Cle. Indeed, I'll chide ye. [Aside.
Des. O, cry ye mercy!
Some retired meditations.
Cle. I shall observe 'em;
Let me but leave you with the joy to know
I stand not in the hazard of that frown.
Des. We'll kiss next time.