_Mem._ It does so, _Siphax_, Things like our selves, as sensual, vain, unvented Bubbles, and breaths of air, got with an itching As blisters are, and bred, as much corruption Flows from their lives, sorrow conceives and shapes 'em, And oftentimes the death of those we love most. The breeders bring them to the World to curse 'em, Crying they creep amongst us like young Cats. Cares and continual Crosses keeping with 'em, They make Time old to tend them, and experience An ass, they alter so; they grow and goodly, Ere we can turn our thoughts, like drops of water They fall into the main, are known no more; This is the love of this World; I must tell thee For thou art understanding. _Si._ What you please, Sir. _Mem._ And as a faithful man: Nay I dare trust thee, I love the Princess. _Si._ There 'tis, that has fired him, I knew he had some inspiration. But does she know it, Sir? _Mem._ Yes marry does she, I have given my heart unto her. _Si._ If ye love her. _Mem._ Nay, understand me, my heart taken from me, Out of my Body, man, and so brought to her. How lik'st thou that brave offer? there's the love I told thee of; and after death, the living; She must in justice come Boy, ha? _Si._ Your heart, Sir? _Mem._ I, so by all means, _Siphax_. _Si._ He loves roast well That eats the Spit. _Mem._ And since thou art come thus fitly, I'll do it presently and thou shalt carry it, For thou canst tell a story and describe it. And I conjure thee, _Siphax_, by thy gentry, Next by the glorious Battels we have fought in, By all the dangers, wounds, heats, colds, distresses, Thy love next, and obedience, nay thy life. _Si._ But one thing, first, Sir, if she pleas'd to grant it, Could ye not love her here and live? consider. _Mem._ Ha? Yes, I think I could. _Si._ 'Twould be far nearer, Besides the sweets here would induce the last love And link it in. _Mem._ Thou sayest right, but our ranks here And bloods are bars between us, she must stand off too As I perceive she does. _Si._ Desert and Duty Makes even all, Sir. _Mem._ Then the King, though I Have merited as much as man can, must not let her, So many Princes covetous of her beauty; I wou'd with all my heart, but 'tis impossible. _Si._ Why, say she marry after. _Mem._ No, she dares not; The gods dare not do ill; come. _Si._ Do you mean it? _Mem._ Lend me thy knife, and help me off. _Si._ For heaven sake, Be not so stupid mad, dear General. _Mem._ Dispatch, I say. _Si._ As ye love that ye look for, Heaven and the blessed life. _Mem._ Hell take thee, Coxcomb, Why dost thou keep me from it? thy knife I say.