The Exchange: Dialogue.[49:1]

Phil[ocharis].

That kiss which last thou gav'st me, stole My fainting life away; Yet, though to thy breast fled, my soul Still in mine own doth stay. Weak Nature no such power doth know: } Love only can these wonders show. }[49:2]

Char[iessa].

And with the same warm breath did mine Into thy bosom slide, There dwell, contracted unto thine, Yet still with me reside. Weak Nature no such power doth know: Love only can these wonders show.

Chor[us].

Both souls thus in desire are one, And each is two in skill, Doubled in intellect alone, United in the will. Weak Nature no such power doth know: Love only can these wonders show.

THE EXEQUIES.

Draw near, You lovers, that complain Of Fortune or Disdain, And to my ashes lend a tear. Melt the hard marble with your groans, And soften the relentless stones, Whose cold embraces the sad subject hide } Of all Love's cruelties, and Beauty's pride. }[50:1]

No verse, No epicedium, bring; Nor peaceful requiem sing, To charm the terrors of my hearse; No profane numbers must flow near The sacred silence that dwells here. Vast griefs are dumb: softly, oh softly mourn! Lest you disturb the peace attends my urn.

Yet strew Upon my dismal grave Such offerings as you have: Forsaken cypress, and sad yew; For kinder flowers can take no birth Or growth from such unhappy earth. Weep only o'er my dust, and say: "Here lies To Love and Fate an equal sacrifice."

THE SILKWORM.

The[51:1] silkworm, to long sleep retir'd, The early year hath re-inspir'd, Who now to pay to thee prepares The tribute of her pleasing cares; And hastens with industrious toil To make her ornament thy spoil.[51:2] See with what pains[51:3] she spins for thee The thread of her own destiny, Then, (growing proud in death, to know That all her curious labours thou[51:4] Wilt, as in triumph, deign to wear!) Retires to her soft sepulchre.

Such, Dearest, is that hapless state To which I am design'd by Fate, Who, by thee willingly o'ercome, Work mine own fetters and my tomb.

AMBITION.

I must no longer now admire The coldness which possess'd Thy snowy breast, That can by other flames be set on fire; Poor Love, to harsh Disdain betray'd, Is by Ambition thus outweigh'd.

Hadst thou but known the vast extent Of constant faith, how far 'Bove all that are Born slaves to wealth, or honours' vain ascent;[52:1] No richer treasure couldst thou find Than hearts with mutual chains combin'd.

But Love is too despis'd a name, And must not hope to rise Above these ties. Honours[52:2] and wealth outshine his paler flame! These unite souls, whilst true desire Unpitied dies in its own fire.

Yet, cruel fair one, I did aim With no less justice too, Than those that sue For other hopes, and thy proud fortunes claim. Wealth honours, honours wealth, approve; But Beauty's only meant for Love.

SONG.

When, dearest Beauty, thou shalt pay Thy faith and my vain hope away To some dull soul that cannot know The worth of that thou dost bestow; Lest[53:1] with my sighs and tears I might Disturb thy unconfin'd delight, To some dark shade I will retire, And there, forgot by all, expire.

Thus, whilst the difference thou shalt prove Betwixt a feign'd and real love, Whilst he, more happy, but less true, Shall reap those joys I did pursue, And with those pleasures crowned be By Fate, which Love design'd for me, Then thou perhaps thyself wilt find Cruel too long, or too soon kind.

SONG.

I will not trust thy tempting graces, Or thy deceitful charms, Nor prisoner be to thy embraces, Or fetter'd in thy arms; No, Celia, no: not all thy art Can wound or captivate my heart.

I will not gaze upon thy eyes, Or wanton with thy hair, Lest those should burn me by surprise, Or these my soul ensnare; Nor with those smiling dangers play, Or fool my liberty away.

Since, then, my wary heart is free And unconfin'd as thine, If thou wouldst mine should captiv'd[54:1] be, Thou must thine own resign; And gratitude may thus move more Than love or beauty could before.

SONG.

No, I will sooner trust the wind, When, falsely kind, It courts the pregnant sails into a storm, And when the smiling waves persuade, Be willingly betray'd, Than thy deceitful vows or form.

Go, and beguile some easy heart With thy vain art; Thy smiles and kisses on those fools bestow Who only see the calms that sleep On this smooth flattering deep, But not the hidden dangers know.

They that, like me, thy falsehood prove, Will scorn thy love, Some may, deceiv'd at first, adore thy shrine; But he that as thy sacrifice Doth willingly fall twice, Dies his own martyr, and not thine.

SONG.

I prithee let my heart alone! Since now 'tis raised above thee: Not all the beauty thou dost own Again can make me love thee.

He that was shipwreck'd once before By such a Siren's call, And yet neglects to shun the[55:1] shore, Deserves his second fall!

Each flattering kiss, each tempting smile Thou dost in vain bestow, Some other lovers might beguile Who not thy falsehood know.

But I am proof against all art: No vows shall e'er persuade me Twice to present a wounded heart To her that hath betray'd me.

Could I again be brought to love Thy form, though more divine, I might thy scorn as justly move As now thou sufferest mine.

THE LOSS.

Yet ere I go, Disdainful Beauty, thou shalt be So wretched as to know What joys thou fling'st away with me:

A faith so bright, As Time or Fortune could not rust, So firm, that lovers might Have read thy story in my dust,

And crown'd thy name With laurel verdant as thy youth. Whilst the shrill voice of Fame Spread wide thy beauty and my truth.

This thou hast lost! For all true lovers, when they find That my just aims were crossed, Will speak thee lighter than the wind;

And none will lay Any oblation on thy shrine, But such as would betray Their[56:1] faith to faiths as false as thine.

Yet if thou choose On such thy freedom to bestow, Affection may excuse: For love from sympathy doth flow.