Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/303

] Away unto thy watch, and, when the king's

A-bed, be here.

Par. I shall, my lord—and 't please your majesty,

I shall.

Bel. What is the matter, madam, that the court

Is in such clouds to-night?

The king feigns mirth and freeness; but withal

Flashes of fury make escapes.

Queen. 'Tis strange,

My lord, you should not know.

Bel. Faith, madam, I

Know nothing.

Queen. Troth, nor I; but I suspect.

The clock no sooner struck, but all the statesmen

Started, as if they had been to run a race,

And the king told me 'twere fit I took my rest.

There's something in't; but these designs of state

We women know no more than our own fate.

To turn our talk—faith, my lord, where lies

That beauty, that so captivates you all?

She has a graceful garb, 'tis true.

Bel. Who, madam? Francelia?

O, she has a dainty foot and daintier hand,

An eye, round as a globe, and black as jet,

So full of majesty and life, that when

It most denies, it most invites.

Queen. These parts she has indeed; but is here all?

Bel. All? heaven forbid!

Her hair's so preciously fair and soft,

That, were she fall'n into some river, and

In danger, one would make a conscience

To save her life, for fear of spoiling it.

Her lips are gently swelled, like unto

Some blushing cherry, that hath newly tasted

The dew from heaven; and her cheeks

Queen. Hold, hold, my lord!

All this is poetry: a painter could

Not flatter more. To my eye, now,

She is so slender! She's scarce, I think, a span

About i' th' middle.