IRE. Pray give them me, I long to be working wonders. [_She reads single words._] _Rubies_, _Pearls_, _Roses_, _Heaven_. Do you not think he has done my cousin a simple favour, comparing of her voice to that of heaven? CLE. 'Tis his love makes him do it; not finding any thing on earth fit to express her, he searcheth heaven for a similitude. IRE. Alas! good gentleman, 'tis the first time he ever thought on't; what frequent thunders should I hear, if 'twere as he would have it? Let me counsel you: lay them aside till they have contracted an inch of dust, then with your finger write their epitaph, expressing the mutual quiet they gave men, and received from them; or, as all poisons serve for some use, give them your physician, and let him apply them to his patient for a vomit--this way they may be useful. CLE. However you esteem them, such an elogy would make you think your glass had not yet flattered you. IRE. It cannot; I prevent it, and accuse it for not showing the hills of snow, the rubies, and the roses they say have being from me. But stay--heaven opens, and I see a tempest coming; your poet is a prophet. HER. I'll call an oath to be my witness. ERG. Madam! HER. My own fears light upon me, if the night that eves the day of marriage, doth not shut me from the world. ERG. Why, madam, this intemperance? HER. 'Tis a just anger. ERG. If you are angry, madam, with all that love you, there lives none that has more enemies, every eye that looks upon you you must hate. IRE. Sir Cleon, our friends are engaged; pray let us be o' th' party. What has called up this choler in my sweet cousin? My lord, you have been begging favours. ERG. Yes, of heaven, that it would furnish me with merits fit to deserve your cousin. IRE. When it has [been] granted you, return to her, and renew your suit; but if you stay till then, you must get spectacles to see her beauty with. HER. Why should you hinder your repose and mine? You know I never loved you. IRE. Then he has no reason to accuse you of inconstancy. ERG. Why are you fair? or why has my stars enforced me to love nothing else? IRE. If your love were considerable, what an obligation had your cousin to your stars? Then these remonstrances of yours are impulsive, and not voluntary. ERG. I cannot tell; but when I seriously direct them to you, I'll swear I am bewitched. CLE. Madam, this is repugnant to your other virtues, that you should hate a man for loving you. Before he did profess himself your servant, I know you did receive him with indifferency at least. Whence then proceeds your hate? HER. From his expression of his love. CLE. A cruel son sprung from so mild a father, if he did urge you to anything, might blast your honour.