THYR. May they prove happy in each other's love, And nothing please, but what each other do; For so liv'd Thyrsis and his Sylvia: Whilst Sylvia was, and Thyrsis was her love. Whatever Thyrsis pip'd, pleas'd Sylvia; Thyrsis admir'd whatever Sylvia sung, And both their joys were equal or but one. Well, I can now remember (and it is Some comfort to remember what I moan) That, when our loves began, how first I gaz'd On her, and she was pleas'd that I should look, Till greedily I had devour'd the hook. Love gave me courage then to speak my thoughts, And gave her pity to receive my words, They link'd our hearts together: from that time, Whene'er she saw me strike the furious boar, Though then my case she ru'd, and sigh'd full oft, Yet was she pleas'd to see my victory, And I receiv'd my vigour from her eye. Then would she make me chaplets of the best And choicest flowers, to adorn my head: Which when I wore, methought I did then grasp The empire of the world. But what of that? The more I then enjoy'd of heavenly bliss, The more my present grief and passion is. MON. Well, Thyrsis, since my words do but renew The story of your grief, I'll leave to use Persuasions to you; for 'tis time, I see, And not my words, must cure your malady. [_Exit._ THYR. That time must put a period to my life, Or else it never will unto my grief: Come, boy, and under this same hanging bough The note, which thou attemper'st to my words, Sing, and be happier than thy master, boy. 1. BOY. _Shall I, because my love is gone,_ _Accuse those golden darts,_ _Which to a blessed union_ _Struck our two loving hearts,_ _Since fortune, and not love, hath caus'd my moan?_ 2. _No, her pure image I shall prize,_ _Imprinted in my breast,_ _More than the fairest mistress' eyes,_ _That ever swain possessed,_ _Which in eternal bonds my fancy ties._ 3. _Come then, you sharpest griefs, and try_ _If you can pierce my heart,_ _But use, if you would have me die,_ _The best you can of art,_ _To wound a breast so arm'd with constancy._ THYR. Enough: I'll sigh the rest out. Go, my boy, Be careful of thy tender lambs, whilst I Seek out some hidden place to pine and die. SCENA II. HYLAS, MIRTILLUS. Believe, Mirtillus, never any love Was bought with other price than love alone, Since nothing is more precious than itself: It being the purest abstract of that fire Which wise Prometheus first indu'd us with; And he must love that would be lov'd again.