It was the cruel practice of my fate That lifted me unto the height of bliss To make my fall the greater: for no sooner Did I enjoy the love of my Nerina, But in a moment she was taken from me: A love so dearly bought with sighs and tears, So many years spent in the gaining her, And lost in one poor minute! It is better Always to live a miserable life Than once to have been happy. She is dead, And I alive, that cannot live without her. 'Tis fit that I die too; but by what means? By violence? No, that the gods forbid. A ling'ring grief, I need not fear, will kill me, When every day I shall repair, as now, Unto her tomb, and consecrate my tears And tearing sighs unto her blessed ghost. Some pitying god, when I'm dissolv'd away Upon her ashes, will congeal those tears, That they may clothe her dust; whilst some kind shepherd, Passing this way, does write this on her grave-- _See here Nerina, that from Hylas' eyes_ _Fed her fair flame, now in their dew she lies._ Thus I will have it: so the words shall run. [_Exit._ SCENA II. DAPHNIS, ALCON, NERINA. _To them_ HYLAS, MONTANUS, CHARINUS, MIRTILLUS. DAPH. It shall not serve thy turn, malicious shepherd, Though thou hast ta'en my love away by tricks, Yet all thy cunning and thy practices Shall not secure thee from my revenge. ALC. Are these the thanks I have for that rich jewel Which I bestow'd on thee, ungrateful man? DAPH. Yes, for a poison'd glass--a precious jewel! ALC. I do confess 'twas poison'd. DAPH. Do you so! And, to do me a courtesy, you kill'd her. ALC. Yet hear me, she is not dead; and if she be, I'll pay my life for hers. DAPH. Be sure thou shalt. But can'st thou hope for such a strong illusion To mock my sense? Did I not see her dead? ALC. She did appear so: what you thought was death Is but a lethargy; though I profess not To draw the moon down from the sphere she is in, Or make the sun look bloody by my art, Yet am I well-inform'd in everything This glass is made of, and I know th' effects It works, and can discourse 'em. DAPH. Let me hear them.