Iris. _An easy yielding maid, By trusting, is undone; Our sex is oft betray'd, By granting love too soon. If you desire to gain me, your sufferings to redress, Prepare to love me longer, And longer yet, and longer, Before you shall possess._ Thyrsis. _The little care you show Of all my sorrows past, Makes death appear too slow, And life too long to last. Fair Iris kiss me kindly, in pity of my fate; And kindly still, and kindly, Before it be too late._ Iris. _You fondly court your bliss, And no advances make; 'Tis not for maids to kiss, But 'tis for men to take. So you may kiss me kindly, and I will not rebel; And kindly still, and kindly, But kiss me not and tell._ A RONDEAU. Chorus. _Thus at the height we love and live, And fear not to be poor; We give, and give, and give, and give, 'Till we can give no more, But what to-day will take away, To-morrow will restore: Thus at the height we love, and live, And fear not to be poor._ _Phæd._ Adieu, I leave you to pay the music. Hope well, Mr. Planet; there is a better heaven in store for you: I say no more, but you can guess. _Merc._ [_alone._] Such bargain-loves, as I with Phædra treat, Are all the leagues and friendships of the great; All seek their ends, and each would other cheat. They only seem to hate, and seem to love; But interest is the point on which they move. Their friends are foes, and foes are friends again, And, in their turns, are knaves, and honest men. Our iron age is grown an age of gold: 'Tis who bids most; for all men will be sold. [_Exit._ ACT V. SCENE I. _Enter_ GRIPUS _and_ PHÆDRA. GRIPUS _has the Goblet in his hand_. _Phæd._ You will not be so base to take it from me? _Grip._ 'Tis my proper chattel; and I'll seize my own, in whatever hands I find it. _Phæd._ You know I only showed it you, to provoke your generosity, that you might out-bid your rival with a better present. _Grip._ My rival is a thief; and I'll indite you for a receiver of stolen goods. _Phæd._ Thou hide-bound lover! _Grip._ Thou very mercenary mistress! _Phæd._ Thou most mercenary magistrate! _Grip._ Thou seller of thyself! _Phæd._ Thou seller of other people: thou weather-cock of government; that, when the wind blows for the subject, pointest to privilege; and when it changes for the sovereign, veerest to prerogative[9]! _Grip._ Will you compound, and take it as my present? _Phæd._ No; but I'll send thy rival to force it from thee. _Grip._ When a thief is rival to his judge, the hangman will soon decide the difference. [_Exit_ PHÆDRA. _Enter_ MERCURY, _with two Swords_. _Merc._ [_Bowing._] Save your good lordship.