Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/158

156

Bas. Thou dost disturb thy brain with fancied fears. Our fortunes rest not on a point so nice That one short day should be of all this moment; And yet this one short day will be to me Worth years of other time.

Ros.Nay, rather say, A day to darken all thy days beside. Confound the fatal beauty of that woman, Which has bewitch'd thee so!

Bas.'Tis most ungen'rous To push me thus with rough unsparing hand, Where but the slightest touch is felt so dearly, It is unfriendly,

Ros. God knows my heart! I would not give thee pain; But it disturbs me, Basil, vexes me, To see thee so enthralled by a woman. If she is fair, others are fair as she. Some other face will like emotions raise, When thou canst better play a lover's part: But for the present, fye upon it, Basil!

Bas. What, is it possible thou hast beheld, Hast tarried by her too, her converse shar'd, Yet talkst as tho' she were a common fair-one, Such as a man may fancy and forget? Thou art not, sure, so dull and brutish grown; It is not so, thou dost belie thy thoughts, And vainly try'st to gain me with the cheat.

Ros. So thinks each lover of the maid he loves, Yet in their lives some many maidens love.