_Mine own, as I am yours, whose heart, I know, No less than mine, for lingering help of woe Doth long too long: love, tendering your case And mine, hath taught recure of both our pain. My chamber-floor doth hide a cave, where was An old vault's mouth: the other in the plain Doth rise southward, a furlong from the wall. Descend you there. This shall suffice. And so I yield myself, mine honour, life, and all, To you. Use you the same, as there may grow Your bliss and mine, mine earl, and that the same Free may abide from danger of defame. Farewell; and fare so well, as that your joy, Which only can, may comfort mine annoy. Yours more than her own,_ GISMUND. O blissful chance my sorrows to assuage! Wonder of nature, marvel of our age! Comes this from Gismund? did she thus enfold This letter in the cane? may it be so? It were too sweet a joy; I am deceiv'd. Why shall I doubt, did she not give it me? Therewith she smil'd, she joy'd, she raught[65] the cane, And with her own sweet hand she gave it me: And as we danc'd, she dallied with the cane, And sweetly whisper'd I should be her king, And with this cane, the sceptre of our rule, Command the sweets of her surprised heart. Therewith she raught from her alluring locks This golden tress, the favour of her grace, And with her own sweet hand she gave it me: O peerless queen, my joy, my heart's decree! And, thou fair letter, how shall I welcome thee? Both hand and pen, wherewith thou written wert, Blest may ye be, such solace that impart! And blessed be this cane, and he that taught Thee to descry the hidden entry thus: Not only through a dark and dreadful vault, But fire and sword, and through whatever be, Mistress of my desires, I come to thee. [GISCARD _departeth in haste unto the palace_. CHORUS 1. Right mighty is thy power, O cruel Love, High Jove himself cannot resist thy bow; Thou sent'st him down, e'en from the heavens above, In sundry shapes here to the earth below: Then how shall mortal men escape thy dart, The fervent flame and burning of thy fire; Since that thy might is such, and since thou art Both of the seas and land the lord and sire? CHORUS 2. But why doth she that sprang from Jove's high head, And Phoebus's sister sheen, despise thy power, Ne fear thy bow? Why have they always led A maiden life, and kept untouch'd the flower? Why doth Aegistus love, and to obtain His wicked will, conspire his uncle's death? Or why doth Phaedra burn, from whom is slain Theseus' chaste son, or Helen, false of faith? "For love assaults not but the idle heart, And such as live in pleasure and delight; He turneth oft their gladsome joys to smart, Their play to plaint, their sport into despite."