Pret. Since fate, Prince Volscius, has found out the way
Pret. For our so long'd-for meeting here this day,
Pret. Lend thy attention to my grand concern.
Vols. I gladly would that story of thee learn;
Vols. But thou to love dost, Pretty-man, incline:
Vols. Yet love in thy breast is not love in mine.
Pret. Since love it self's the same, why should it be
Pret. Diff'ring in you from what it is in me?
Vols. Love takes, Cameleon-like, a various dye
Vols. From every Plant on which it self does lye.
Pret. Let not thy love the course of Nature fright:
Pret. Nature does most in harmony delight.
Vols. How weak a Deity would Nature prove
Vols. Contending with the pow'rful God of Love?
Vols. If Incense thou wilt offer at the Shrine
Vols. Of mighty Love, burn it to none but mine.
Vols. Her Rosie-lips eternal sweets exhale;
Vols. And her bright flames make all flames else look pale.
Pret. Perhaps dull Incense may thy love suffice;
Pret. But mine must be ador'd with Sacrifice.
Pret. All hearts turn ashes which her eyes controul:
Pret. The Body they consume as well as Soul.
Vols. My love has yet a power more Divine;
Vols. Victims her Altars burn not, but refine:
Vols. Amid'st the flames they ne'er give up the Ghost,
Vols. But, with her looks, revive still as they roast.
Vols. In spite of pain and death, they're kept alive:
Vols. Her fiery eyes makes 'em in fire survive.
Pret. I'l sooner have a passion for a Whale:
Pret. In whose vast bulk, though store of Oyl doth lye,
Pret. We find more shape more beauty in a Fly.
Vols. Soft, Pretty-man, let not thy vain pretence
Vols. Of perfect love, defame loves excellence.
Vols. Parthenope is sure as far above
Vols. All other loves, as above all is Love.
Vols. Were all Gods joyn'd, they could not hope to mend
Vols. My better choice: for fair Parthenope,
Vols. Gods would, themselves, un-god themselves to see.
Pret. Durst any of the Gods be so uncivil,
Pret. I'ld make that God subscribe himself a Devil.
Vols. Could'st thou that God from Heav'n to Earth translate,
Vols. He could not fear to want a Heav'nly State.
Vols. Parthenope, on Earth, can Heav'n create.
Pret. Cloris does Heav'n it self so far excel,
Pret. She can transcend the joys of Heav'n in Hell.
Bayes. Come, with all my heart.
I'l make that God subscribe himself a Devil.
That single line, I gad, is worth all that my brother Poets ever writ. So, now let down the Curtain. [Exeunt.