SCENE V.

ROLLANO, EULINUS _hearkening_.

ROL. O my dear lady, hast thou slain thyself? So fairly pure, so kindly chaste, so---- [_Cries._ A Venus and Diana mix'd in one. She ate her meat with studs of pearl, she kiss'd With rubies, and she look'd with diamonds bright. Fish seas, and fowl the air, hunt all the earth, For such another bit, and lose your labour.

EUL. O, why dost thou complain?

ROL. Had she not kill'd herself, no cruel Atropos, No fury could for pity cut her thread. She was the loadstone of all eyes, the whetstone Of all brains, the touchstone of all hearts! she was---- [_Cries._

EUL. O, my presaging thoughts in ugly form Suggest some tragedy. Speak--yet stay awhile; I know thou kill'st with speaking. Be then dumb: Let sound ne'er give those notions airy robes. Yet speak! despatch me; fear's as bad as death. O, could no tongue affirm it! Is she dead?

ROL. My mistress is.

EUL. Wither, ye pleasant gardens, where she trod! White lilies droop, and blasted daisies wink, And weep in pearly dew! blind Vesper mourn; Hang thy cold tears on ev'ry grassy blade! Groan loud, ye woods, and tear your leafy hair! Let wind and hoary frost kill every flow'r; For she is gone who made continual May Let foggy mists envelope sun and stars; For she is gone who made perpetual day. Confounded nature, stand amaz'd; dissolve Thy rolling engines, and unbrace the seas; Fling all into their first disorder'd lump; For thy chief paragon, thy rich masterpiece, The jewel for which thou didst venture all, Is lost, is lost! And can I live to speak it? How died she?

ROL. By a poison'd draught.

EUL. The very word poison infects my breath. Durst thou presume to pass that coral porch? Were not her lips sufficient antidote? Durst thou descend through those close-winding stairs With treacherous intent? How could thy venom Seize on her, and not (sweeten'd) lose his virtue, Or rather vicious quality? may toads, Dragons, and mandrakes be thy gally-pots! This body was a casket for the graces, No cask for poison. With her dies all love. Cupid may break his bow, his arrows burn, Then quench his taper in a flood of tears. Is she dead?

ROL. Or in a long trance?

EUL. She may revive. I'll visit her. Art may prolong her days, Whether she will or no. [_Exeunt._