SONG.

Hold back thy hours, dark Night, till we have done :

The day will come too soon; Young maids will curse thee, if thou steal'st away, And leav'st their losses open to the day: Stay, stay, and hide

The blushes of the bride. Stay, gentle Night, and with thy darkness cover The kisses of her lover.

Stay, and confound her tears, and her shrill cryings,

Her weak denials, vows, and often dyings;
Stay, and hide all,

But help not, tho' she call.

Nept. Great queen of us and heaven, hear
what I bring

To make this hour a full one,
If not o'ermeasure.

Cinth. Speak, sea's king.

When they will dance upon the rising wave, Nept. The tunes my Amphitrite joys to have, And court me as she sails. My tritons, play Music to lead a storm; I'll lead the way.

SONG.

[Measure.

To bed, to bed; come Hymen, lead the bride,
And lay her by her husband's side:

Bring in the virgins every one,
That grieve to lie alone;

That they may kiss while they may say, a maid;
To-morrow, 'twill be other, kiss'd, and said.
Hesperus be long a shining,

Whilst these lovers are a-twining. Eol. Ho! Neptune!

Nept. Eolus!

Eol. The seas go high,

Boreas hath rais'd a storm: Go and apply
Thy trident; else, I prophesy, ere day
Many a tall ship will be cast away.
Descend with all thy gods, and all their power,
To strike a calm.

Cinth. A thanks to every one, and to gratulate
So great a service, done at my desire,
Ye shall have many floods, fuller and higher
Than you have wished for; no ebb shall dare
To let the day see, where your dwellings are.
Now back unto your government in haste,
Lest your proud charge should swell above the

Let him go on and flame! I hope to see
Another wild-fire in his axletree;
And all fall drenched. But I forgot; speak, queen.
The day grows on; I must no more be seen.

Cinth. Heave up thy drowsy head again, and see
A greater light, a greater majesty,
Between our sect and us! Whip up thy team!
The day-break's here, and yon sun-flaring beam
Shot from the south. Say, which way wilt thou go?
Night. I'll vanish into mists.

Enter EVADNE, ASPATIA, DULA, and other la

dies.

Ecad. DULA, 'Would, thou could'st instil Some of thy mirth into Aspatia!

Nothing but sad thoughts in her breast do dwell: Methinks, a mean betwixt you would do well.

Dula. She is in love: Hang me, if I were so, But I could run my country. I love, too, To do those things that people in love do.

Asp. It were a timeless smile should prove my check:

It were a fitter hour for me to laugh,
When at the altar the religious priest
Were pacifying the offended
powers
With sacrifice, than now. This should have been
My night and all your hands have been employed
In giving me a spotless offering

To young Amintor's bed, as we are now

For you. Pardon, Evadne; 'would, my worth
Were great as yours, or that the king, or he,
Or both, thought so! Perhaps, he found me worth-
less :

But, till he did so, in these ears of mine,
These credulous cars, he poured the sweetest words
That art or love could frame. If he were false,
Pardon it, Heaven! And if I did want
Virtue, you safely may forgive that too;
For I have lost none, that I had from you.

Evad. Nay, leave this sad talk, madam.
Asp. 'Would, I could! then should I leave the

cause.

Evad. See, if you have not spoiled all Dula's mirth.

Asp. Thou thinkest thy heart hard; but if thou be'st caught,

Remember me; thou shalt perceive a fire
Shot suddenly into thee.

Dula. That's not so good; let them shoot any thing but fire, I fear them not.

Asp. Well, wench, thou may'st be taken.
Evad. Ladies, good night: I'll do the rest myself.
Dula. Nay, let your lord do some.

Asp. Lay a garland on my hearse,

Of the dismal yew.

Exad. That's one of your sad songs, madam.
Asp. Believe me, 'tis a very pretty one.
Fead. How is it, madam?

SONG.

Asp. Lay a garland on my hearse,
Of the dismal yew;
Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say, I died true:

My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth!

Evad. Fie on it, madam! the words are se strange, they are able to make one dream of hobgoblins. 'I could never have the power?' Sing that, Dula.

Dula. I could never have the pow'r

To love one above an hour,

But my heart would prompt mine eye
On some other man to fly:

Venus, fix thou mine eyes fast,

Or, if not, give me all that I shall see at last.

Evad. So, leave me now.

Dula. Nay, we must see you laid.

Asp. Madam, good night. May all the marriage joys

That longing maids imagine in their beds,
Prove so unto you. May no discontent
Grow 'twixt your love and you! But, if there do,
Enquire of nie, and I will guide your moan;
Teach you an artificial way to grieve,
To keep your sorrow waking. Love your lord
No worse than I; but, if you love so well,
Alas, you may displease him; so did I.
This is the last time you shall look on me.
Ladies, farewell. As soon as I am dead,
Come all, and watch one night about my hearse;
Bring each a mournful story, and a tear,
To offer at it, when I go to earth.
With flattering ivy clasp my coffin round;
Write on my brow my fortune; let my bier
Be borne by virgins, that shall sing, by course,
The truth of maids, and perjuries of men.
Evad. Alas, I pity thee.
Omnes. Madam, good night.

[Exit Evad.

1 Lady. Come, we'll let in the bridegroom. Dula. Where's lord? my Enter AMINTOR.

1 Lady. Here, take this light.

Asp. Go, and be happy in your lady's love.
May all the wrongs, that you have done to me,
Be utterly forgotten in my death!
I'll trouble you no more; yet I will take
A parting kiss, and will not be denied.
You'll come, my lord, and see the virgins weep,
When I am laid in earth, though you yourself
Can know no pity. Thus I wind myself
Into this willow garland, and am prouder,
That I was once your love, though now refused,
Than to have had another true to me.

So with my prayers I leave you, and must try
Some yet unpractised way to grieve and die. [Exit.
Dula. Come, ladies, will you go?
Omnes. Good night, my lord.
Amin. Much happiness unto you all!
[Exeunt ladies.
I did that lady wrong: Methinks, I feel
Her grief shoot suddenly through all my veins.
Mine eyes run: This is strange at such a time.
It was the king first moved me to't; but he
Has not my will in keeping. Why do I
Perplex myself thus? Something whispers me,
'Go not to bed.' My guilt is not so great
As my own conscience, too sensible,
Would make me think: I only brake a promise,
And 'twas the king that forced me. Timorous flesh,
Why shak'st thou so? Away, my idle fears!
Enter EVADNE.

Yonder she is, the lustre of whose eye
Can blot away the sad remembrance
Of all these things. Oh, my Evadne, spare
That tender body; let it not take cold.
The vapours of the night will not fall here;
To bed, my love. Hymen will punish us
For being slack performers of his rites.
Cam'st thou to call me?

Evad. No.

Amin. Come, come, my love,

And let us loose ourselves to one another.

Why art thou up so long?

Evad. I am not well.

love me,

Thou weighest not any thing compared with me:
Life, honour, joys eternal, all delights
This world can yield, or hopeful people feign,
Or in the life to come, are light as air
To a true lover, when his lady frowns,

And bids him do this. Wilt thou kill this man?
Swear, my Amintor, and I'll kiss the sin
Off from thy lips.

Amin. I will not swear, sweet love,
Till I do know the cause.

Evad. I would, thou would'st.

Why, it is thou, that wrong'st me; I hate thee; Thou should'st have killed thyself.

Amin. If I should know that, I should quickly kill

This cannot be

Thy natural temper. Shall I call thy maids?
Either thy healthful sleep hath left thee long,
Or else some fever rages in thy blood.

Evad. Neither, Amintor: Think you I am mad, Because I speak the truth?

Amin. Will you not lie with me to-night? Evad. To-night! you talk as if I would hereafter. Amin. Hereafter! yes, I do.

Evad. You are deceived.

Put off amazement, and-with patience mark
What I shall utter; for the oracle
Knows nothing truer : 'tis not for a night,
Or two, that I forbear thy bed, but for ever.
Amin. I dream! Awake, Amintor!
Evad. You hear right.

I sooner will find out the beds of snakes,
And with my youthful blood warm their cold flesh,
Letting them curl themselves about my limbs,

Than sleep one night with thee. This is not feigned,

Nor sounds it like the coyness of a bride.

Amin. Is flesh so earthly to endure all this?
Are these the joys of marriage? Hymen, keep
This story (that will make succeeding youth
Neglect thy ceremonies) from all ears;
Let it not rise up, for thy shame and mine,
To after-ages: We will scorn thy laws,

If thou no better bless them. Touch the heart
Of her, that thou hast sent me, or the world
Shall know: There's not an altar, that will smoke
In praise of thee; we will adopt us sons;
Then virtue shall inherit, and not blood.
I do rage in vain;

She can but jest. O, pardon me, my love!
So dear the thoughts are that I hold of thee,
That I must break forth. Satisfy my fear;
It is a pain, beyond the hand of death,
To be in doubt: Confirm it with an oath,
If this be true.

Evad. Do you invent the form:
Let there be in it all the binding words
Devils and conjurers can put together,
And I will take it. I have sworn before,
And here, by all things holy, do again,
Never to be acquainted with thy bed.
Is your doubt over now?

Amin. I sleep, and am too temperate! Come to bed!

Or by those hairs, which, if thou hadst a soul Like to thy locks, were threads for kings to wear About their arms

Evad. Why, so, perhaps, they are.

Amin. I will drag thee to my bed, and make thy

tongue

Undo this wicked oath, or on thy flesh
I'll print a thousand wounds to let out life!
Evad. I fear thee not. Do what thou darest to
me!

Every ill-sounding word, or threatening look,
Thou shewest to me, will be revenged at full.
Amin. It will not, sure, Evadne?
Evad. Do not you hazard that.
Amin. Have you your champions?

Evad. Alas, Amintor, thinkest thou I forbear
To sleep with thee, because I have put on
A maiden's strictness? Look upon these cheeks,
And thou shalt find the hot and rising blood
Unapt for such a vow. No; in this heart
There dwells as much desire as ever yet
Was known to woman.

But it was the folly of thy youth

To think this beauty, to what land soever
It shall be called, shall stoop to any second.
I do enjoy the best, and in that height

ed still!

Was ever such a marriage night as this!
Ye powers above, if you did ever mean

Man should be used thus, you have thought a way
How he may bear himself, and save his honour."
Instruct me in it; for to my dull eyes

There is no mean, no moderate course to run:
I must live scorned, or be a murderer.
Is there a third? Why is this night so calm?
Why does not heaven speak in thunder to us,
And drown her voice?

Evad. This rage will do no good.

Amin. Evadne, hear me: Thou hast ta'en an oath, But such a rash one, that, to keep it, were Worse than to swear it: Call it back to thee; Such vows as those never ascend to heaven; A tear or two will wash it quite away. Have mercy on my youth, my hopeful youth, If thou be pitiful; for, without boast, This land was proud of me. What lady was there, That men called fair and virtuous in this isle, That would have shunned my love? It is in thee To make me hold this worth. Oh! we vain men, That trust out all our reputation, To rest upon the weak and yielding hand Of feeble woman! But thou art not stone; Thy flesh is soft, and in thine eyes doth dwell The spirit of love; thy heart cannot be hard. Come, lead me, from the bottom of despair, To all the joys thou hast; I know, thou wilt; And make me careful, lest the sudden change O'ercome my spirits.

Evad. When I call back this oath, The pains of hell environ me!

Amin. No; let me know the man, that wrongs

me so,

That I may cut his body into motes,
And scatter it before the northern wind.
Evad. You dare not strike him.

Amin. Do not wrong me so.

Yes, if his body were a poisonous plant,
That it were death to touch, I have a soul
Will throw me on him.

Evad. Why, it is the king.
Amin. The king!

Evad. What will you do now?
Amin. It is not the king!

Evad. What did he make this match for, dulf
Amintor?

Amin. Oh, thou hast named a word, that wipes

away

All thoughts revengeful! In that sacred name, 'The king,' there lies a terror. What frail man Dares lift his hand against it? Let the gods Speak to him, when they please; till when, let us Suffer, and wait.

Evad. Why should you fill yourself so full of
heat,

And haste so to my bed? I am no virgin.
Amin. What devil put it in thy fancy, then,
To marry me?

Evad. Alas, I must have one

To father children, and to bear the name
Of husband to me, that my sin may be
More honourable.

Amin. What a strange thing am I !
Evad. A miserable one; one, that myself
Am sorry for.