Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/114

94 Ther. Softly, as death

Itself comes on, when it does steal away

The sick man's breath, and standers-by perceive 't not.

Have I trod the way unto these lodgings. How wisely

Do those powers, that give us happiness, order it,

Sending us still fears to bound our joys,

Which else would overflow and lose themselves.

See where she sits,

Like day retir'd into another world.

Dear mine! where all the beauty man admires

In scattered pieces does united lie;

Where sense does feast, and yet where sweet desire

Lives in its longing, like a miser's eye,

That never knew nor saw satiety:

Tell me, by what approaches must I come

To take in what remains of my felicity?

Agl. Needs there any new ones, where the breach

Is made already? you are enter'd here,

Long since, sir, here, and I have giv'n up all.

Ther. All but the fort; and, in such wars as these,

Till that be yielded up, there is no peace

Nor triumph to be made—

Come,

Undo, undo; and from these envious clouds

Slide quick into love's proper sphere, thy bed.

The weary traveller, whom the busy sun

Hath vex'd all day, and scorch'd almost to tinder,

Ne'er long'd for night as I have long'd for this.

What rude hand is that? [One knocks hastily. Iolina goes to the door Go, Iolina, see, but let none enter

Iolin. 'Tis Ziriff, sir.

Ther. O!

Something of weight hath fallen out, it seems,

Which in his zeal he could not keep till morning.

But one short minute, dear, into that chamber! [Exit Aglaura

How now? thou start'st as if thy sins had met thee,

Or thy father's ghost; what news, man?

Zir. Such as will send the blood of hasty messages

Unto the heart, and make it call