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Jonson, Ben, 1573-1637

"Cynthia's Revels"


ARG. Whither goes my love?
ASO. I'll return presently, I go but to see a page with this lady.
[EXEUNT ASOTUS AND MORIA.]
ANA. As sure as fate, 'tis so: she has opened all: a pox of all
cockatrices! D--n me, if she have play'd loose with me, I'll cut
her throat within a hair's breadth, so it may be heal'd again.
MER. What, is he jealous of his hermaphrodite?
CUP. O, ay, this will be excellent sport.
PHI. Phantaste, Argurion! what, you are suddenly struck, methinks!
For love's sake let's have some music till they come: Ambition,
reach the lyra, I pray you.
HED. Anything to which my Honour shall direct me.
PHI. Come Amorphus, cheer up Phantaste.
AMO. It shall be my pride, fair lady, to attempt all that is in my
power. But here is an instrument that alone is able to infuse soul
into the most melancholic and dull-disposed creature upon earth.
O, let me kiss thy fair knees. Beauteous ears attend it.
HED. Will you have "the Kiss" Honour?
PHI. Ay, good Ambition.
HEDON SINGS.
O, that joy so soon should waste!
Or so sweet a bliss
As a kiss
Might not for ever last!
So sugar'd, so melting, so soft, so delicious,
The dew that lies on roses,
When the morn herself discloses,
Is not so precious.


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