Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/153

] To think what I had had, had I had you;

What I have lost in losing of myself;

Are deaths far worse than any you can give.

Yet kill me quickly; for, if I have time,

I shall so wash this soul of mine with tears,

Make it so fine, that you would be afresh

In love with it; and so perchance I should

Again come to deceive you. [She rises up weeping, and hanging down her head Zir. So rises day, blushing at night's deformity;

And so the pretty flowers, blubber'd with dew,

And overwash'd with rain, hang down their heads.

I must not look upon her.

Orb. Were but the lilies in this face as fresh

As are the roses; had I but innocence

Join'd to their blushes, I should then be bold;

For, when they went on begging, they were ne'er denied.

'Tis but a parting kiss, sir.

Zir. I dare not grant it.

Orb. Your hand, sir, then; for that's a part I shall

Love after death (if after death we love),

'Cause it did right the wrong'd Zorannes here. [Steps to him, and opens the box of poison; Zorannes falls Sleep, sleep for ever; and forgotten too,

All but thy ills, which may succeeding time

Remember, as the seaman does his marks,

To know what to avoid! May at thy name

All good men start, and bad too! may it prove

Infection to the air, that people dying of it

May help to curse thee for me! [Turns to the body of Ariaspes Could I but call thee back as eas'ly now!

But that's a subject for our tears, not hopes!

There is no piecing tulips to their stalks,

When they are once divorc'd by a rude hand;

All we can do is to preserve in water

A little life, and give, by courteous art,

What scanted nature wants commission for.

That thou shalt have; for to thy memory

Such tribute of moist sorrow I will pay,

And that so purifi'd by love, that on

Thy grave nothing shall grow but violets

And primroses; of which, too, some shall be