Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/168

148 I find a kind of willingness to stay,

And find that willingness something obey'd.

My blood, now it persuades itself you did

Not call in earnest, makes not such haste.

Agl. O my dearest lord,

This kindness is so full of cruelty,

Puts such an ugliness on what I have done,

That, when I look upon ['t], it needs must fright

Me from myself, and (which is more insufferable)

I fear, from you.

Ther. Why should that fright thee, which most comforts me?

I glory in it, and shall smile i' th' grave,

To think our love was such, that nothing but

Itself could e'er destroy it.

Agl. Destroy it? can it have ever end? Will you

Not be thus courteous, then, in the other world?

Shall we not be together there as here?

Ther. I cannot tell whether I may or not.

Agl. Not tell?

Ther. No. The gods thought me unworthy of thee here;

And, when thou art more pure, why should I not

More doubt it?

Agl. Because, if I shall be more pure,

I shall be then more fit for you. Our priests

Assure us an Elysium; and can

That be Elysium, where true lovers must

Not meet? Those powers that made our lives, did they

Intend them mortal, would sure have made them of

A coarser stuff, would they not, my lord?

Ther. Pr'ythee, speak still:

This music gives my soul such pleasing business,

Takes it so wholly up, it finds not leisure

To attend unto the summons death does make.

Yet they are loud and peremptory now;

And I can only

Agl. Some pitying power

Inspire me with a way to follow him! Heart,

Wilt thou not break of thyself!

Zir. My griefs

Besot me.

His soul will sail out with this purple tide;

And I shall here be found staring after't,