Mar.
Who's this, my niece, that flies away so fast?

Cousin, a word, where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me;
If I do wake, some planet strike me down,
That I may slumber in eternal sleep.
Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands
Have lopp'd, and hew'd, and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments,
Whose circling shadows Kings have sought to sleep in?
And might not gain so great a happiness,
As half thy love! why do'st not speak to me?
&plquo;Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
&plquo;Like to a bubling fountain stirr'd with wind,
&plquo;Doth rise and fall between thy rosie lips,
&plquo;Coming and going with thy honey breath.
But sure some Tereus hath defloured thee,
And lest thou shou'dst detect him, cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame!
And notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
(As from a conduit with their issuing spouts,)
Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face,
Blushing to be encountred with a cloud.—
Shall I speak for thee? shall I say, 'tis so?
Oh that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
That I might rail at him to ease my mind.
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopt,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind.
But lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee;
A craftier Tereus hast thou met withall,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
That could have better sew'd than Philomel.
&plquo;Oh had the monster seen those lilly hands

&plquo;Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute,
&plquo;And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
&plquo;He would not then have touch'd them for his life.
&plquo;Or had he heard the heav'nly harmony,
&plquo;Which that sweet tongue hath made;
&plquo;He would have dropt his knife, and fell asleep,
&plquo;As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet.
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind;
For such a sight will blind a father's eye.
One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads,
What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee:
Oh could our mourning ease thy misery. [Exeunt.

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