_Ori._ I was not worthy of thee, at my best, Heaven knew I was not, I had had thee else; Much less now gentle Sir; _Miranda_'s deeds Have been as white as _Oriana_'s fame, From the beginning to this point of time, And shall we now begin to stain both thus? Think on the legend which we two shall breed Continuing as we are, for chastest dames And boldest Soldiers to peruse and read, I and read thorough, free from any act To cause the modest cast the book away, And the most honour'd Captain fold it up. _Mir._ Fairest; let go my hand: my pulse beats thick, And my mov'd blood, rides high in every vain, Lord of thy self now, Soldier, and ever: I would not for _Aleppo_, this frail Bark, This bark of flesh, no better steers-man had Than has _Mountferrat's_: may you kiss me, Lady? _Ori._ No; though't be no essential injury, It is a circumstance due to my Lord, To none else: and my dearest friend, if hands Playing together, kindle heat in you, What may the game at Lips provoke unto? _Mir._ Oh what a tongue is here! whil'st she doth teach My heart to hate my fond unlawful love, She talks me more in love, with love to her, My fires she quencheth with her arguments, But as she breathes 'em, they blow fresher fires. Sit further: now my flame cools; Husband, Wife, There is some holy mystery in those names That sure the unmarried cannot understand. _Ori._ Now thou art strait, and dost enamour me, So far beyond a carnal earthly love; My very soul doats on thee, and my spirits Do embrace thine, my mind doth thy mind kiss, And in this pure conjunction we enjoy A heavenlier pleasure than if bodies met: This, this is perfect love, the other short, Yet languishing fruition, every Swain And sweating Groom may clasp, but ours refin'd Two in ten ages cannot reach unto; Nor is our spiritual love, a barren joy, For mark what blessed issue we'll beget, Dearer than children to posterity, A great example to mens continence, And womens chastity, that is a child More fair and comfortable, than any heir. _Mir._ If all wives were but such, lust would not find One corner to inhabit, sin would be So strange, remission superfluous: But one petition, I have done. _Ori._ What (Sweet)? _Mir._ To call me Lord, if the hard hand of death Seize on _Gomera_ first.