Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/173

] And over-wash'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 these blushes, I should then be bold;

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

'Tis but a parting kiss, sir!

Zir. I dare not grant it.

Pasithas, away with her!

Ther. She wak'd me with a sigh,

And yet she sleeps herself, sweet innocence!

Can it be sin to love this shape? and if

It be not, why am I persecuted thus?

She sighs again!

Sleep that drowns all cares, cannot, I see, charm love's.

Blest pillows, through whose fineness does appear

The violets, lilies, and the roses

You are stuff'd withal! to whose softness I owe

The sweet of this repose, permit me to

Leave with you this.

See, if I have not wak'd her.

Sure I was born, Aglaura, to destroy

Thy quiet!

Agl. Mine, my lord!

Call you this drowsiness a quiet, then?

Believe me, sir, 'twas an intruder I

Much struggled with; and have to thank a dream,

Not you, that it thus left me.

Ther. A dream! What dream, my love?

Agl. I dreamt, sir, it was day;

And the fear you should be found here

Zir. Awake! How is it with you, sir?

Ther. Well,

Extremely well, so well that, had I now