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. 2. Scaen. 4.
Truman filius, Lucia veil'd.
Ha! why this covering?
This is mistery darker then the veile
That clouds thy glorious face; unless t'en∣crease
My desire first, and then my joy to see thee,
Thou cast this subtler night before thy beauty.
And now like one scorched with some ra∣ging feaver,
Upon whose flames nor dew nor sleep hath faln,
I could begin to quarrel with the darkness,
And blame the slothful rising of the morn;
But with more gladness entertain't, then they,
Whose icy dwellings the cold Bare ore-looks,
When after half the yeers continued night,
And the most •edious night of all but death;
A sudden light shot from their horizon,
Brings the long wisht-for day, which with such glory
Leaps from the East, as doth thy mateless beauty.
Page [unnumbered]When thus the mist departs—
Offers to pull away the veil.
Why shrinkst thou back?
I prit hee let me see thee, Lucia.
I'd rather some good power would strike me blinde,
Then lose the cause for which I love mine eyes:
At least speak to me: well may I call it night,
When silence too has joyn'd it self to dark∣ness.
And did I not swear I would not —
Thy witty goodness can save others too
From sinning: I had quite forgot my oath
Yet sure an oath forc'd from a lovers tongue
Is not recorded in heav'ns dreadful book,
But scatter'd loosely by that breath that made it.
However thy blest Letter makes me patient:
Thou giv'st all vertues: I can love thee thus.
And though thy skin were such, that it might seem
A black veil cast by nature o'er thy body,
Yet I would love thee, Lucia: every night,
Which is the harvest-time of all our hopes,
Will make thee as th'art now; and dost thou think
I shall not love thee most then?
We trifle here: I'll follow thee, O heaven;
Prosper the wise invention which it hath taught thee.