Phil. Dearer than my soul.
Mar. Would I could love you!
Phil. Madam, so you may.
Mar. As yet I cannot: therefore let me go.
Phil. O, do not leave me, grant me but one request,
And here I vow by that divinest power,
The salt-sea's glorious issue, whose bright sphere
Rules my sick heart, and knows my chaste intent,
That if you please to impose on me that task
Which neither man nor monster can achieve,
Which even angels have a dread to touch,
Deeds which outstretch all possibility,
'Sfoot, more than can be thought—and I'll effect,
Or else I'll perish in th' accomplishment.
Mar. Let your request fit virgin-modesty,
And you obey your vow, I am content
To give your thoughts contented happiness.
Phil. 'Tis but a kiss I ask, a minute's joy.
Mar. Now Cupid help thee; is thy grief for this?
Keep thy strong vow, and freely take a kiss. [He kisses her.
Phil. I have obtain'd my heaven, and in this touch
I feel the breath of all deliciousness:
Then freely give the sentence of my work,
Muster up all the engines of your wit,
Teach Juno rules beyond maliciousness;
Whate'er it be, I'll die but I'll perform it.
Mar. Thou shalt not kill thyself, nor fight with monsters,
Nor bring the great Turk's beard[172] to show thy zeal:
Thy life thou shalt not hazard for my love,
Nor will I tie thee to an endless task:
But even with ease and gentle-tangled knots,
Thou shalt entwine thy clue of miseries.