_Hen_. Till then with greater care then were the Dragons Supposd to watch the Golden Apples growing In the _Hesperides_, shall _Henrico_ wayte On his best loved. Oh, my _Eleonora_, I would to heaven there were no war but here To shoote love darts! each smile from this fayre Eye May take an Army prisoners: let me give My life up here unto these lipps, and yet I shall, by the sweetnes of a kisse, take back The same againe. Oh thou in whom alone Vertue hath perfect figure, hide not day In such a Cloud: what feare hath enterd here? My life is twisted in a Thread with thine; Were't not defenced, there could nothing come To make this cheeke looke pale, which at your Eye Will not fall dead before you.--
Sirra, let all your care and duty bee Employed to cheere this Lady: pray, be merry.
_Hen_. Hell on your bawling! not a sillable to affright her, or I shall tune your instrument there.
_Buz_. Hele breake the head of my instrument! Why, sir, weomen are not affraid to heare of doings.
_Buz_. When the whole towne is altogether by th'eares you might give me leave to jar a little my selfe:--I have done, sir.
_Hen_. Putt on thy merryest face, _Buzzano_.
_Buz_. I have but one face, but I can make a great many.
_Hen_. My best _Eleonora_, I shall soone returne: In the meane time be owner of this house, The possesour. All danger, sweet, shall dwell Far off: Ile but enquire the state of things In the Citty, and fly back to thee with loves wings. [_Exit_.
_Buz_. Signior _Henrico_, She has something more to say to you. [_Redit_.
_Ele_. Since I must be your prisoner let me have My keepers company, for I am afraid Some enemy in your absence, like a woolfe May ceize on me. I know not whither now I ere shall see my father: doe not you Ravish yourselfe from me, for at the worst We may dye here, _Henrico_; and I had rather Fall in your eye than in your absence be Dishonord; if the destinyes have not Spun out a longer thread, lets dye together.
_Hen_. Oh doe not racke my soule with these sad accents. Am I _Henrico_? there is not any place Can promise such security as this To _Eleonora_. Doe not talke of dying, Our best dayes are to come: putt on thy quiet, And be above the reach of a misfortune. Ile presently wayte on thee, by this kisse.