EPIRE. Be lucky, villany: hit now the mark[208] That mine ambition aims at; methinks I see That lean Italian devil, jealousy, Dance in his eyes. Possess him, spirit of rage: Muffle his understanding with black thoughts, Let passion govern reason, falsehood truth, Oblivion hide his age, hate kill his youth.
CYP. Thou dancest on my heart, lascivious queen, Even as upon these rushes, which thou treadest:[209] See how her motions wind about his eyes, And doth present to him her passions: Now doth her moistening palm glow in his hand, And courts him unto dalliance. She dies: 'tis just. She's slave to murder that is slave to lust.
EPIRE. Thou curse of greatness, waking-ey'd suspicion, Now help thy poor friends, murder and ambition.
QUEEN. This strain contain'd a pretty change. Proceed unto the next. [_They dance the second._
CYP. Sin follows sin, and change on change doth wait; Thy change doth change my love to cruel hate.
[_In this strain_ MARIANA _came to_ PHILOCLES.
PHIL. Madam, methinks this chance is better than the first.
MAR. Ay, if the music would not alter it.
QUEEN. Methinks 'tis worse; come, we will have Another strain. [_They dance again._
CYP. Rivals in crowns and beds of kings must bleed. Can that fair house contain so foul a guest As lust, or cloak inordinate base desires,[211] Under so fair a coverture? O yes, Women can blind our sense when we see best, And set fair landskips on inconstancy, Making us blind with seeing. The dance ends: Your sins are blackest, breach of love and friends.
EPIRE. Now to the king; blow, rage, till it flame hate; A politician thrives the best in state.
[_Exit_ EPIRE, _and enters to the_ KING _again_.
QUEEN. Come, sweet Prince Philocles, Devise some new delights to shorten time; This dulness hath no relish in my sense, It hath no pith; and sloth in my conceit Is but a type of pride in best constructions.[212]
MAR. Madam, I'll stand, that a fair woman Must be proud, or else a fool.
QUEEN. Thy reason, wench, I pray thee: come, disburse.
MAR. A woman fair is like a full-blown rose.
QUEEN. Which holds the fair no longer than it grows.
MAR. A woman fair is like the finest gold.
PHIL. Which kept from use is good, though ne'er so old.
MAR. Nay, good lord, leave a little: She that is fair is wise, and ought to know it, For to that end did nature first bestow it. Now of this knowledge if we be not proud, We wrong the author, and we are allow'd To rank with senseless beasts, sith careless we For want of pride detract our dignity. Now knowing it, we know truth in the same, Not to be proud of truth asks folly's name. This lesson still is read in beauty's school: She that is fair and humble is a fool. For neither knows she how to hold her good, Or to keep safe the treasure of her blood.