_Luc_. I know I doo. _Lass_. Do all I bid thee then. _Luc_. Bid then as I may doo. _Lass_. I bid thee leave mee. _Luc_. That I cannot doo. _Lass_. My hate. _Luc_. My love. _Lass_. My torment. _Luc_. My delight. _Lass_. Why do I straine to wearie thee with words? Speech makes thee live; Ile then with silence kill thee, Henceforth be deafe to thy words and dumbe to thy minde. _Ench_. What rock hath bred this savage-minded man? That such true love in such rare beauty shines[65]! Long since I pittied her; pittie breeds love, And love commands th'assistance of my Art T'include them in the bounds of my command. Heere stay your wandering steps; chime[66] silver strings, Chime, hollow caves, and chime you whistling reedes, For musick is the sweetest chime for love. Spirits, bind him, and let me leave[67] my love. [SCENE 4.] _Enter A[l]berdure at one doore, and meetes with the Pesant at the other doore_. _Alb_. _Hyanthe_, ô sweet _Hyanthe_, have I met thee? How is thy beautie changed since our departure! A beard, _Hyanthe_? ô tis growne with griefe, But now this love shall tear thy griefe from thee. _Pes_. A pox on you! What are you? Swounds, I think I am haunted with spirits. _Alb_. Weepe not, _Hyanthe_; I will weepe for thee, Lend me thy eyes. No, villaine, thou art he That in the top of _Eruines_ hill Daunst with the Moone and eate up all the starres, Which made thee like _Hyanthe_ shine so faire; But, villaine, I will rip them out of thee. _Enter Motto and others_. _Pea_. Slid, holde your hands. _Alb_[68]. I come with thunder. _Pea_. Come and you dare. _Mott_. Holde, villaine; tis the young prince _Alberdure_. _Pea_. Let the young prince hold then; slid, I have no starres in my bellie, I; let him seeke his _Hyanthe_ where he will. _Alb_. O this way by the glimmering of the Sunne And the legieritie[69] of her sweete feete She scowted on, and I will follow her. I see her, like a goulden spangle, sit Upon the curled branch of yonder tree. Sit still, _Hyanthe_; I will flie to thee. _Exit_. _Mott_. Follow, follow, follow! _Exeunt all but Peas_. _Enter Flores and Hance_.[70] _Pea_. Together and be hanged. O heere comes more; pray God I have better lucke with these two. By your leave, sir, do you know one Maist. _Flores_, I pray? _Flo_. What wouldst thou have with him? _Pea_. Faith, Sir, I am directed to you by Lady Fortune with a peece of plate. I doe hope you will use plaine dealing, being a Jeweller. _Flo_. Where hadst thou this? _Pea_. In a very strange place, sir. _Han_. He stole it, sir, I warrant you. _Flo_. I never sawe a Jemme so precious, So wonderful in substance and in Art. Fellow, confesse preciselie where thou hadst it.