MIR. No, I love her As I do others, with whom I compare her. But you, that love with such intemperance, Make of your love a glass, wherein you see Each thing much greater than indeed it is: My love's too cold, you say; but I am sure Yours is too hot for any to endure: A mean, perhaps, 'twixt these I might approve. HYL. You might, if there were any mean in love. MIR. But whilst we talk thus, see, the flame has caught you; Your beauteous flame, Nerina, is at hand, Dorinda with her: dare you stay th' encounter? HYL. No, let's withdraw, and watch her, where she goes. SCENA III. NERINA, DORINDA. Dorinda, I have miss'd the chase to-day, Such is my chance, and he that lodg'd the deer Told me it was the fairest in these woods. DOR. The gods do love you, sure, that thus have left Your thoughts so free for sport; mine are not so. NER. Thou art in love, I warrant, art thou not? DOR. That angry god pursues me in his fury, And forces me to love where I am scorn'd. Hapless Dorinda, why should he despise thee? Many a swain and many a rural god Have sought thy favours, and have sought in vain: Now thou art justly punish'd with disdain. NER. Trust me, sweetheart, I cannot choose but wonder, To think that one of such a comely grace-- I do not flatter you--could sue to any For love, who are much fitter to be lov'd: Scorn him as much as he does thee; for men Love us no more! when we love them again. DOR. Ah, good Nerina, you have spoken truth: It may warn other nymphs by my example, How they profess their loves to any man: I am past cure, for[248] he that wounded me Has left me quite disarm'd, and robb'd me of All those defensive arts which men will say Are natural and proper to our sex. I cannot change a face or weep one tear, Or laugh against my will, so violently My fate hath thrust me to this love, that all My faculties confess their weakness; and My flame is got so much above my reach, I cannot put it out, nor smother it. NER. Alas, poor wench! tell me, who is the man Made up of so much rigid cruelty, That I may shun him wheresoe'er I go. DOR. Do not you know him? NER. No. DOR. I hear he boasts To every shepherd and to every nymph How much I love him. NER. Then it must be Daphnis. DOR. Venus forgive me if I do disclose him, But he will do't himself: 'tis he, Nerina. NER. Daphnis, that wooes my father to win me; He is my daily suitor; now I know How much he owes to pity and to thee; Until he pay that debt, I shall despise him. DOR. Why, do not you love him as much as I? NER. Love him! I know no greater misery, Than to love one that's not of human race-- A tiger rather; but a tiger is more mild Than he.