_Daro._ Dear Lady fly me not, stay and hear me speak; _Ovid_’s Words in _Bonon_’s Sound, cannot describe the Passion of my Love. _Cad._ Cruel Man, follow me not; if you love me, do not augment my Torment. _Daro._ I am come with Comforts to feed the distressed Soul, I love. _Cad._ What in me, do you admire? _Daro._ Your Person, Madam. _Cad._ They are Brutes that marry Bodies; the Mind is all that can be loved; the other is a Desire proceeds from Nature vicious, urged by Food and Wine: Live low, and you’ll not love me. _Daro._ Oh ’tis in my Soul, I admire the Mind! _Cad._ Then if you converse, you enjoy; what can you ask for more? _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _and a_ Parson. _Hurlo._ Come along, Sir, the King will make you a Bishop. _Daro._ My Love, my Life, my Fire, to thee shall all be given; I’ll make thee taste of earthly Joys, and fetch thee down from Heaven: A Power that will without controul, Knock down all the Centrys of the Soul. Sir, perform your Office. [_Speaking to the_ Parson. _Par._ Madam, are you willing to be married? _Cad._ I am not. _Hurlo._ Never mind that. _Par._ ’Tis my Sovereign, and I must obey. _Enter_ Flame, _with Pistols, and a drawn Sword_. _Fla._ This Dagger will I heat red-hot in the crimson Blood of _Darony_, with which I’ll spear the Heart of _Seringo_, that Weather-cock; I’ll raise it upon some Pinacle or Spire; it shall ever whirl about with every Blast; myself I’ll dissolve into Air; I’ll make the stormy Winds to blow, the petty Breezes shall have no Power; but I’ll reign King of Tempest. _Hurlo._ My Lord, can I serve you? Do you please to accept of Assistance? _Flame. Hurlothrumbo_, what hast thou done with _Seringo_, hid her in thy Belly? Speak, in a moment speak, or I’ll rip it open, and let her out. _Hurlo._ O no! ah hold! oh pray give me leave, and I’ll answer you! _Fla._ Speak! quickly speak! or like a Griffin stuff’d with Fire and Gunpowder, I’ll blow thy Limbs and Stings to every Part of the Globe! _Hurlo._ Oh ye Powers inspire me with Madness, that I may answer him in his own Language! [_Aside._] If you please to let us go, my Lord, we’ll this Moment mount her upon the Back of the Sun; in the mean while, you get a stradling upon the Moon, there you’ll be mounted aloft, and ride after her, spur and whip, whip and spur, and you’ll be sure to overtake her in the Eclipses; there you’ll be clapp’d together, Face to Face, one upon another; and all the World will shout and say, he has her, he has her, he has her! huzza! [Darony, Hurlothrumbo, _and the_ Parson, _shout and Ex._ _Fla._ Ride on, Lightning, to perform, or I’ll drive you on with Thunder. _Serin._ Dear Lady keep him in Discourse, for your own Security. _Cad._ My Lord, you seem to be in Distress, is it in my Power to assist you?