Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/172

152 Which he must fear, because he knows he hates him.

For these great statesmen, that, when time has made bold

With the king and subject, throwing down all fence

That stood betwixt their power and others' right,

Are on a change;

Like wanton salmons coming in with floods,

That leap o'er wires and nets, and make their way,

To be at the return to every one a prey.

Zir. Look here, vain thing, and see thy sins full blown!

There's scarce a part in all this face thou hast

Not been forsworn by, and Heav'n forgive thee for't!

For thee I lost a father, country, friends,

Myself almost; for I lay buried long:

And, when there was no use thy love could pay

Too great, thou mad'st the principal away.

As wantons, ent'ring a garden, take the first

Fair flower they meet, and treasure 't in their laps;

Then, seeing more, do make fresh choice again,

Throwing in one and one, till at the length

The first poor flower, overcharged with too much weight,

Withers and dies:

So hast thou dealt with me; and, having kill'd

Me first, I will kill

Orb. Hold, hold!

Not for my sake, but Orbella's, sir! a bare

And single death is such a wrong to justice,

I must needs except against it.

Find out a way to make me long a-dying;

For death's no punishment: it is the sense,

The pains and fears afore, that makes a death.

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,