_Flame._ Beggars be gone, these Men sell Land upon the blue Plains; see what a Figure they cut, who’ll buy any? Oh you, I know you well, (_pointing to the King_) you are the most covetous Man in the Universe, you give what you have away to the Poor, that you may enjoy it all yourself; and when your time is to die, you’ll not leave a Farthing behind you to fling away. I return you thanks for the Post of Honour you offered me; but does your Majesty think a Soul like mine was born for Servitude? No; I’ll sooner be an _Alexander_ in my own Park-Pale: He that lives in Pleasure runs up a Score, and he that is afflicted, is paying Debts; this is Spirit; what has Flesh to do with that? A Coquet in the Soul, a Harlot for the Devil. I am a Man amazed in Love, Nature is hot and too much fudled with Fire; in the out-raging Jealousies of my Soul, I rent my Brain, and when my Rival was with her. I ran distracted to her Cheeks, I kiss’d, I curs’d, I bless’d, I wept, an Earthquake in my Breast, Thunder and Lightning in my Head, that storm’d down Tempest, and burst my Heart. Oh what is Woman! I am sadly in Love, I am not well; do kill me, O pity a Lover. [_Ex._ Flame. _King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, what is thy Opinion of this Man? my prophetick Soul loves him. _Hurlo._ I advise him to starve himself, from a Horse to a Man; for if he dies at this time, he’ll be metamorphos’d into a wild _Elysian_ Colt. He’ll cock his Tail, he’ll praunce and stare, Will gallop, snort, and snuff the Air; And all his Thoughts will be of—— _King._ Pray tell me how does Love affect thee? _Hurlo._ When I see a Lady with a full Chest, flat Back, falling Shoulders, a long Neck, and a languishing Air, every Pulse beats up a March vehemently towards her; I touch, I muse, I am in a Trance, a pleasing Stupidity, Astunment, my Faculties are on fire, a Smoak rises in the Eyes of the Mind, Reason is deaf, the Intellect blind, my Nerves creep, I shiver; charm’d in Terror, the Body trembles in the Bargain of buying Raptures with the Soul. _King._ ’Tis not Love, it’s Temptation. _Hurlo._ ’Tis a Description of a Combat, in which all Men are conquer’d. _King._ Not so, _Hurlo_, I will speak for myself: Ambition high rose up in the Mind, to fight with Vertue, in the beauteous Fair; and she a superlative _Venus_ of the World; I was Fire, and Faculties keen; she was Love with languishing Retreat, but when she surrendred all to my Will; I struck not the Vanquish’d, but conquer’d myself. _Hurlo._ ’Twas a noble Retreat, your Majesty bravely run away. _Enter_ Servant. _Serv._ The Lord _Dologodelmo_ waits without to speak to your Majesty. [_Ex._ Theorbeo, Hurlo, _and_ Servant.