Page:Hero and Leander - Marlowe and Chapman (1821).pdf/40

xxx Shall call thee Jove, shall wait upon thy cup And fill thee nectar: their enticing eyes Shall serve as crystal, wherein thou may’st see To dress thyself, if thou wilt smile on me.— Smile on me, and with coronets of pearl, And bells of gold, circling their pretty arms In a round ivory fount these two shall swim, And dive to make thee sport: bestow one smile, And in a net of twisted silk and gold In my all-naked arms thyself shall lie.”

The old king expiring, and blind with the mists of death, desires an attendant to call his daughter, who is lying drowned in tears at the bed's foot.

"King Philip. Come hither, Isabella! reach a hand,— Yet now it shall not need; instead of thine Death, shoving thee back, clasps his hands in mine, And bids me come away."

His younger son, Prince Philip, upbraids his mother and the courtiers with her lusts.—

"Call not me your son! My father, while he liv'd, tir'd his strong arms In bearing Christian armour 'gainst the Turks, And spent his brains in warlike stratagems, To bring confusion on damn'd infidels: Whilst you, that snorted here at home, betrayed His name to everlasting infamy;—