The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act IIII. Scene IX.

IVLIA, OVID.

Shee appeareth aboue, as at her chamber win∣dow.

OVID? my loue?

OVID.

Here, heauenly IVLIA.

IVLI.

Here? and not here? O, how that word doth play With both our fortunes, differing, like our selues, Both one; and yet diuided, as oppos'd? I high, thou low? Ô, this our plight of place Doubly presents the two lets of our loue, Locall, and ceremoniall height, and lownesse: Both waies, I am too high, and thou too low. Our mindes are euen, yet: Ô, why should our bodies, That are their slaues, be so without their rule? I'le cast my selfe downe to thee; If I die, I'le euer liue with thee: no height of birth, Of place, of dutie, or of cruell power, Shall keepe mee from thee; should my father locke This body vp within a tombe of brasse, Yet I'le be with thee. If the formes, I hold Now in my soule, be made one substance with it; That soule immortall; and the same 'tis now; Death cannot raze th'affects, shee now retayneth: And then, may shee be any where shee will. The soules of parents rule not childrens soules, When death sets both in their dissolu'd estates; Then is no child, nor father: then eternitie Frees all, from any temporall respect. I come, my OVID, take me in thine armes: And let me breathe my soule into thy brest.

OVID.

O, stay, my loue: the hopes thou do'st conceiue Of thy quicke death, and of thy future life, Are not autenticall. Thou choosest death,

So thou might'st ioy thy loue, in th'other life. But know (my princely loue) when thou art dead, Thou onely must suruiue in perfect soule; And in the soule, are no affections: We powre out our affections with our bloud; And with our blouds affections, fade our loues. "No life hath loue in such sweet state, as this; "No essence is so deare to moodie sense, "As flesh, and bloud; whose quintessence is sense. "Beautie, compos'd of bloud, and flesh, moues more, "And is more plausible to bloud, and flesh, "Then spirituall beautie can be to the spirit. Such apprehension, as we haue in dreames (When sleepe, the bond of senses, locks them vp) Such shall we haue, when death destroies them quite. If loue be then thy obiect, change not life; Liue high, and happy still: I still below, Close with my fortunes, in thy height, shall ioy.

IVLI.

Ay me, that vertue, whose braue eagles wings With euery stroke, blow starres, in burning heauen; Should like a swallow (preying toward stormes) Fly close to earth: and with an eager plume, Pursue those obiects, which none else can see, But seeme to all the world, the emptie aire. Thus thou (poore OVID) and all vertuous men Must prey like swallowes, on inuisible foode; Pursuing flies, or nothing: and thus loue, And euery worldly phansie, is transpos'd, By worldly tyrannie, to what plight it list. O, father, since thou gau'st me not my mind, Striue not to rule it: Take, but what thou gau'st To thy disposure. Thy affections Rule not in me; I must beare all my griefes, Let me vse all my pleasures: vertuous loue Was neuer scandall to a Goddesse state. But, hee's inflexible! and, my deare loue, Thy life may chance be shortned, by the length Of my vnwilling speeches to depart. Farewell, sweet life: though thou be yet exil'd Th'officious court, enioy me amply, still: My soule, in this my breath, enters thine eares, And on this turrets floore, will I lie dead, Till we may meet againe. In this proud height, I kneele beneath thee, in my prostrate loue, And kisse the happy sands, that kisse thy feet.

"Great IOVE submits a scepter, to a cell; "And louers, ere they part, will meet in hell.

OVID.

Farewell, all companie; and if I could All light with thee: hells shade should hide my browes, Till thy deare beauties beames redeem'd my vowes.

IVLI.

Shee calls him backe.

OVID, my loue: alas, may we not stay A little longer (think'st thou) vndiscern'd?

OVID.

For thine owne good, faire Goddesse, doe not stay: Who would ingage a firmament of fires, Shining in thee, for me, a falling starre? Be gone, sweet life-bloud: if I should discerne Thy selfe but toucht, for my sake, I should die.

IVLI.

I will be gone, then; and not heauen it selfe

He calls her backe.

Shall draw me backe.

OVID.

Yet IVLIA, if thou wilt, A little longer, stay.

IVLI.

I am content.

OVID.

O, mightie OVID! what the sway of heauen Could not retire, my breath hath turned back.

IVLI.

Who shall goe first, my loue? my passionate eyes Will not endure to see thee turne from mee.

OVID.

If thou goe first, my soule will follow thee.

IVLI.

Then we must stay.

OVID.

Ay me, there is no stay In amorous pleasures: if both stay, both die. I heare thy father, hence, my deitie. Feare forgeth sounds in my deluded eares; I did not heare him: I am mad with loue. There is no spirit, vnder heauen, that workes With such illusion: yet such witchcraft kill mee, Ere a sound mind, without it, saue my life. Here, on my knees, I worship the blest place That held my goddesse; and the louing aire, That clos'd her body in his silken armes: Vaine OVID! kneele not to the place, nor aire; Shee's in thy heart: rise then, and worship there▪ "The truest wisdome silly men can haue, "Is dotage, on the follies of their flesh.