The guardian, a comedie acted before Prince Charls, His Highness at Trinity-Colledg in Cambridge, upon the twelfth of March, 1641
Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.
Act. 1. Scaen. 6.
Truman filius, Lucia.
I must be gone, my Lucia; I must leave
My self, and thee more then my self, behinde me
Thus parts the greedy usurer from his bags,
With an heart heavier then those: he fixes
His covetous eye upon the charming metal,
As if he meant to throng those many plea∣sures
Which several times would yeeld, into one minute.
With as much joy he kisses his lov'd Idol,
As I do thee, to whom all gold compar'd,
Seems but like Pebbles to the Diamond:
And then he sighs, my Lucia.
And weeps too, if, like us, he bid farewel.
Why should your father be so cruel?
He's old and angry, Lucia, very angry,
Page [unnumbered]And either has forgot his youthful days,
Or else I'll swear he did not love my mother
With half that noble heat that I do thee:
For when he heard your uncles resolutions,
Doubting your portion if we two should marry,
He forc'd me to an oath so strange, which though
I then durst swear, I scarce dare now repeat;
An oath ne'er more to see nor hear thee, Lucia,
After the envious shortness of this hour,
Without his leave.
You will forget me quite then.
Forget thee, Lucia? 'tis not death it self
Has so much Lethe in't: I shall not chuse
In the long sleep o'th grave, but dream of thee,
If it be true that souls which leave hid trea¦sures
(Being buried far less peaceable then their gold)
Walk up and down, and in their urns want rest,
How will my ghost then wander, which has left
Such precious wealth behinde it? Sure it will
Desire to see thee, and I fear will fright thee.
I would say more, but I shall weep anon.
So quickly gone! he might have staid, me thinks,
A little longer, and I ow'd that happiness
To the misfortune of his future absence.
Why did he swear to's father? I'm a fool,
And know not what to say.