_Alb._ Blush unkind nature, If thou hast power: or being to hear Thy self, and by such innocence accus'd; Must print a thousand kinds of shame, upon Thy various face: canst thou supply a drunkard, And with a prodigal hand reach choice of Wines, Till he cast up thy blessings? or a glutton, That robs the Elements, to sooth his palat, And only eats to beget appetite, Not to be satisfied? and suffer here A Virgin which the Saints would make their guest, To pine for hunger? ha, if my sence [_Horns within._ Deceive me not, these Notes take Being From the breath of men; confirm me my _Aminta_; Again, this way the gentle wind conveys it to us, Hear you nothing? _Amint._ Yes, it seems free hunters Musick. _Alb._ Still 'tis louder; and I remember the _Portugals_ Inform'd us, they had often heard such sounds, But ne'r could touch the shore from whence it came; Follow me, my _Aminta_: my good genius, Shew me the way still; still we are directed; When we gain the top of this near rising hill, We shall know further. [_Exit. And Enter above._ _Alb._ Courteous _Zephyrus_, On his dewy wings, carries perfumes to cheer us; The air clears too; And now, we may discern another Island, And questionless, the seat of fortunate men: Oh that we could arrive there. _Amint._ No _Albert_, 'tis not to be hop'd; This envious Torrent's cruelly interpos'd; We have no vessel that may transport us; Nor hath nature given us wings to flie. _Alb._ Better try all hazards, Than perish here remediless; I feel New vigor in me, and a spirit that dares More than a man, to serve my fair _Aminta_; These Arms shall be my oars, with which I'll swim; And my zeal to save thy innocent self, Like wings, shall bear me up above the brackish waves. _Amint._ Will ye then leave me? _Alb._ Till now I ne'er was wretched. My best _Aminta_, I swear by goodness 'Tis nor hope, nor fear, of my self that invites me To this extream; 'tis to supply thy wants; and believe me Though pleasure met me in most ravishing forms, And happiness courted me to entertain her, I would nor eat nor sleep, till I return'd And crown'd thee with my fortunes. _Amin._ Oh but your absence. _Alb._ Suppose it but a dream, and as you may, Endeavour to take rest; and when that sleep Deceives your hunger with imagin'd food, Think you have sent me for discovery Of some most fortunate Continent, yet unknown, Which you are to be Queen of. And now ye Powers, that e'er heard Lovers Prayers, Or cherisht pure affection; look on him That is your Votary; and make it known Against all stops, you can defend your own. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Hippolita, Crocale, Juletta. _Hip._ How did we lose _Clarinda_?