Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/264

244 Meantime, exchange of pris'ners only we

Assent unto.

Lord. Nothing of truce, sir?

King. No: we'll not take up

Quiet at int'rest: perfect peace or nothing.

'Cessations for short times in war are like

Small fits of health in desp'rate maladies;

Which, while the instant pain seems to abate,

Flatters into debauch and worse estate.'

Iph. I have not left myself a fair retreat,

And must be now the blest object of your love,

Or subject of your scorn.

Fran. I fear some treachery,

And that mine eyes have given intelligence.

Unless you knew there would be weak defence,

You durst not think of taking in a heart,

As soon as you set down before it.

Iph. [in a whisper]. Condemn my love not of such fond ambition,

It aims not at a conquest, but exchange,

Francelia.

Mor. They're very great in this short time.

Sol. 'Tis ever so.

Young and handsome are made acquaintances in nature; so

When they meet, they have the less to do. It is

For age or ugliness to make approaches,

And keep a distance.

Iph. When I shall see other perfection,

Which at the best will be but other vanity,

Not more I shall not love it.

Fran. 'Tis still one step not to despair, my lord. [Exeunt Iphigene, Francelia, and Servants Mor. Dost think he will fight?

Sol. Troth, it may be not.

Nature, in those fine pieces, does as painters;

Hangs out a pleasant excellence that takes

The eye, which is indeed