_The._ I'm older then than you, for I 'gan love The day you won the laurel from proud Carthage. In the wild race how like a shooting star You made a heaven of earth's grosser air! And 'twas that day I heard old warriors say Your lance would dare prick ope the clouds till Mars Looked forth to combat. Ah, I scarce believe Our island's easy lap did bear you, and thank The gods that wealth, whose poison-pampered tooth Likes best the marrow-sweet of youth, has left You still a man. _Oc._ Truth weeps when lovers talk, But where is sound more sweet? All that I am I owe to Dion. Give to him the praise, If praise is due, and you would please me best. _The._ Thy approbation is my glass of merit, And there alone am I array�d fair, Yet for his sake, not yours, I love lord Dion. 'Tis wonder's hour in wonder's day he should So fit his life, despite the careless time, To please the gods. _Oc._ When shall we tell him, love, Of this new joy of ours? _The._ My mother first. _Oc._ Didst note her frown? What has so changed her, sweet? _The._ I find her troubled late, as she would soothe Her breast above some panting mystery. _Oc._ She must disclose the cause, and show if 't has An honest face. I'll have no mincing doubts And ghostly secrets peering on our love. _The._ She is our gentle mother. Wait, my heart! _Oc._ Phillistus is too often at her ear. Have guard against him. In his smoothest words He'll subtly seat a devil to confound you. 'Tis pity. Eloquence is the flute o' the soul, Which virtue alone should play, for good or bad It has immortal consequence. _The._ He was My father's friend, and well may be my mother's. _Oc._ Ah, but he coos too near her widowed nest. _The._ Ocrastes! Can you dare? My noble mother! Whose sorrows sit like shadows in her eye? Whose loyal breast asks no embrace less chill Than the cold tomb where my dear father lies? _Oc._ 'Twas but a word. _The._ Unsay it, O, unsay it! _Oc._ Ay, by our island's god, 'twas never spoken! _The._ I've scarce a breath, Ocrastes. _Oc._ And that breath This kiss must drink. You will forgive? Speak not. These clinging lips have told me. A kiss, Theano, Unseals all secrets but to be their grave. Then we know all, and all we know's forgot. 'Tis saying true, a kiss is worth the world, When, having it, there's no world but a kiss. [_Re-enter Nauresta and Aratea, left_] _Nau._ [_Crossing to Theano_] Still here, my daughter? [_Enter Brentio, right_] _Bren._ O, mistress, the master is coming with Dionysius. Since he would not take the Athenian to court, the court is coming hither.