English drama -- 17th century; English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700
_Mass._ Yes, Lady,[211] but the fates will not permit
(As gems once lost are seldom or never found)
I should convey it with me. Sweet, good-night!
[_Aside._] She bends to me: there's my fall again.
[_Exit._
_Isa._ He's gone! That lightning that a while doth strike
Our eyes with amaz'd brightness, and on a sudden
Leaves us in prison'd darkness! Lust, thou art high;
My similes[212] may well come from the sky.
Anna, Anna!
_Enter_ ANNA.
_Anna._ Madam, did you call? 209
_Isa._ Follow yond stranger; prithee learn his name.
We may hereafter thank him. [_Exit_ ANNA.] How I dote!
Is he not a god
That can command what other men would win
With the hard'st advantage? I must have him,
Or, shadow-like, follow his fleeting steps.
Were I as Daphne, and he followed chase,
(Though I rejected young Apollo's love,
And like a dream beguile his wand'ring steps;)
Should he pursue me through the neighbouring grove,
Each cowslip-stalk should trip a willing fall, 220
Till he were mine, who till then am his thrall.
Nor will I blush, since worthy is my chance:[213]
'Tis said that Venus with a satyr slept;
And how much short came she of my fair aim!
Then, Queen of Love, a precedent I'll be,
To teach fair women learn to love of me.
Speak, music: what's his name?
_Enter_ ANNA.
_Anna._ Madam, it was the worthy Count Massino.
_Isa._ Blest be thy tongue! The worthy count indeed,
The worthiest of the worthies. Trusty Anna, 230
Hast thou pack'd up those monies, plate, and jewels
I gave direction for?
_Anna._ Yes, madam; I have truss'd up them, that many
a proper man has been truss'd up for.
_Isa._ I thank thee. Take the wings of night,
Beloved secretary, and post with them to Pavia;[214]
There furnish up some stately palace
Worthy to entertain the king of love:
Prepare it for my coming and my love's.
Ere Phoebus' steeds once more unharness'd be, 240
Or ere he sport with his belovèd Thetis,
The silver-footed goddess of the sea,
We will set forward. Fly like the northern wind,
Or swifter, Anna,--fleet like to my mind.
_Anna._ I am just of your mind, madam. I am gone.
[_Exit_ ANNA.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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