_Theor._ But Nature conquers Philosophy, and is a match for Divinity: I am sometimes at wars with my Will, whether to fly to Sin for Refuge, or to Heaven for Relief. _King._ My Lord I’ll haste away, and in one Hour expect to see you again. _Theor._ When I think you’re safe, I’ll follow. [_Ex. King._ _Enter_ Dologodelmo _guarded_. O _Godelmo_, what brings thee to this Place of Misery? Speak quickly, though I dread to hear. _Dolo._ May all the Ills that are preparing in the Elements, be dash’d on the Head of _Hurlothrumbo_, that I might die, and my Soul join with his Adversary; I’d fly swiftly with the Ball, and direct it to his inward Heart. _Theor._ Curse him not; has he deserted you? _Dolo._ We no sooner entered the Field, but he joined the Adversary; may Heaven pour down upon him the bitter Blessings, the Honey Curse, the gilded Pill, that satisfies Desire, and infects the Mind; give him Riches, and make him love them, then will he be abhorred of Men, the Spirits, the Angels, and the Gods: may a proud Sign appear in his Face, that he may be a Tavern for Devils to riot and banquet in; let him pamper Nature, feed high, to destroy his Taste; so blind all the Beauties of the Mind; then will his hungry Pleasure devour up all the eternal Treasure of his Soul. _Theor._ _Godelmo_, let thy Passion cease. _Dolo._ O pardon me, I must be alone, and burst my Heart with sighing. [_Ex._ Dolo. _Theor._ O that Heaven would erect an Altar where Man might sacrifice himself an Offering; then surely the Blood of great Men would dye the Spring, the Rivers, and the Seas. O my Soul is full of Calamity, and my Heart is sore with Sorrow. _Enter_ Flame. _Fla._ Just now my Rival is with her; I tremble thus in the solemn Gloom, the Noon of Night; my wakeful Soul can find no rest, but from a jealous Dream I start, I rise amazed, in the Face of the Elements, bow, sigh, and think of Sorrow; I wonder what the Moon thinks of me. Oh when, oh when, shall Time and Sorrow cease! Surely _Cupid_’s Dart is the Sting of Death; oh dear Death, oh how I could hug thee. What Sign is it when a Man’s Heart is broken? _Theor._ That he is in love. _Fla._ Come, do, let you and I weep together, and pour out all the sour Anguish of our Souls: Women are cruel Creatures; tho’ I could kiss her a thousand thousand Times; oh ye inconstant Wretch, yet I will press my Check to thine, weep, sigh, and part Eternal; Oh! Oh you dearest Creature, Heaven is seen in every Feature Is there no such thing, as learning Charms to move? No, no, no, ’tis Gold and Honour makes the Fair to love: Angel, ’tis in vain, if you come like a Swain, With all your Harps and Arts, and Sweets to please from _Jove_. ------------------------------------------------------------------------