_Mel_. Sister, I joy to see you, and your choice, You lookt with my eyes when you took that man; Be happy in him. [_Recorders_. _Evad_. O my dearest brother! Your presence is more joyful than this day can be unto me. _The Mask_. _Night rises in mists_. _Nigh_. Our raign is come; for in the raging Sea The Sun is drown'd, and with him fell the day: Bright _Cinthia_ hear my voice, I am the Night For whom thou bear'st about thy borrowed light; Appear, no longer thy pale visage shrowd, But strike thy silver horn through a cloud, And send a beam upon my swarthy face, By which I may discover all the place And persons, and how many longing eyes Are come to wait on our solemnities. [_Enter Cinthia_. How dull and black am I! I could not find This beauty without thee, I am so blind; Methinks they shew like to those Eastern streaks That warn us hence before the morning breaks; Back my pale servant, for these eyes know how To shoot far more and quicker rayes than thou. _Cinth_. Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone One of my clearest moons I have put on; A Troop that looks as if thy self and I Had pluckt our rains in, and our whips laid by To gaze upon these Mortals, that appear Brighter than we. _Night_. Then let us keep 'em here, And never more our Chariots drive away, But hold our places, and out-shine the day. _Cinth_. Great Queen of shadows, you are pleas'd to speak Of more than may be done; we may not break The gods decrees, but when our time is come, Must drive away and give the day our room. Yet whil'st our raign lasts, let us stretch our power To give our servants one contented hour, With such unwonted solemn grace and state, As may for ever after force them hate Our brothers glorious beams, and wish the night Crown'd with a thousand stars, and our cold light: For almost all the world their service bend To _Phoebus_ and in vain my light I lend, Gaz'd on unto my setting from my rise Almost of none, but of unquiet eyes.