_Fla._ No; my Soul, like a Jocky, is mounted and riding his eternal Race; I have slackned the Reins of Nature, and the Beast pulls, is pampered with too many Beans and Oats, and is running away with me to the Devil. [_Exit_ Flame _and_ Seringo. _Cad._ Pity! I have heard of Pity, surely Pity now is banish’d from the Earth, and all the Spirits of Love are lock’d up fast in Heaven. Was I once free from this miserable Cave of Nature, I think I could deny myself even of Paradise, to fly about within this lower World, to cure all the Sick, and heal the Broken-hearted: If there be a Maid on Earth whose Grief is like to mine, O ye sublimer Genius of the Air! in tender Pity direct her here to me, that I may lay my Face down to her Feet, and wash them clean with Tears; then will I rise, and gaze, and give her all that’s mine, that Generosity may please my Soul, and Love will rise up in my Heart, and conquer all my Grief. _Enter_ Seringo _and_ Sementory. _Sem._ I am full of sympathetick Confusion; there is nothing to be seen upon the Terrass, but Flashes of Lightning, flying through Clouds of Gun-powder Smoak. _Cad._ Oh I tremble! _Enter_ Servant. _Serv._ _Hurlothrumbo_ is taken Prisoner, and the _Dutch_ Horse begin to fly. [_Exit_ Servant. _Enter_ Flame. _Flame._ The King has gain’d the Victory; I’ll fly to the _Elysian_ Fields, and provoke them all to dance. _Serin._ Shall I go with you, my Lord? _Flame._ Oh! no, _Seringo_, Coquets can never alarm me. [_A Song._ _I’ll to the simple Fair incline, Constant Love, full of_ Jove, _all divine, All, all, all divine, she’s rais’d, touch’d, rap’d, and only mine: O lead me, lead me to one like thee! Yet mighty Fate from happy State, Leads us all from Ruin, Through jealous Discords oh, And parting worse than Death, Death, oh._ [_Exeunt._ _The End of the Fourth Act._ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration] ACT V. _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _in Prison guarded_. _Hurlo._ Leave me alone, let me vent, let me pour out the inveterate Anguish of my Soul; I see there is nothing impossible; no, does not this World turn round without Spit or Jack, and roast before the Fire in the Elements ’till all her Fruits are ripe to eat? If this be so, all things are rul’d by the same Power, and there is nothing impossible. Stand still ye Globe, let there be but one Season, scorch or starve the Universe: Come a little nearer, oh ye Sun, and burn all mortal Race, or keep thee farther off, and starve them soon to Death; oh that all Mankind might perish with myself!