Phao. Do, Madam; for I think nothing in the world so good as Yew.
Sapho. Farewell, for this time.
Sapho questions her low-placed Affection.
Sapho. Into the nest of an Alcyon no bird can enter but the Alcyon: and into the heart of so great a Lady can any creep but a great Lord?
Cupid. Sapho cured of her love by the pity of Venus.
Cupid. But what will you do for Phao?
Sapho. I will wish him fortunate. This will I do for Phao, because I once loved Phao: for never shall it be said, that Sapho loved to hate: or that out of love she could not be as courteous, as she was in love passionate.
Phao’s final resolution.
Phao. O Sapho, thou hast Cupid in thy arms, I in my heart; thou kissest him for sport, I must curse him for spite; yet will I not curse him, Sapho, whom thou kissest. This shall be my resolution, wherever I wander, to be as I were ever kneeling before Sapho; my loyalty unspotted, though unrewarded. With as little malice will I go to my grave, as I did lie withal in my cradle. My life shall be spent in sighing and wishing; the one for my bad fortune, the other for Sapho’s good.
C. L.