_R._ Ay, do: but now Forget not me. (_Aside._) By Jove, he has capped my story.— 170 Diana’s sister too: and I entrapped To aid in her elopement.
_Enter Diana, Laura, Gregory, and St. Nicholas; with attendant musicians and singers, who go out when the music is done._
Fire of heaven, whose starry arrow Pierces the veil of timeless night: Molten spheres, whose tempests narrow Their floods to a beam of gentle light, To charm with a moonray quenched from fire The land of delight, the land of desire.
_F._ (_to R._). That is the major-domo Gregory 179 With the white locks. Take him aside, he is deaf.
(_During next verse R. makes his way to G., and they are seen talking aside during the other dialogue._)
Smile of love—a flower planted, Sprung in the garden of joy that art: Eyes that shine with a glow enchanted, Whose spreading fires encircle my heart, And warm with a noonray drenched in fire My land of delight, my land of desire!
I envy much the melancholy spirit Who wove that strain. The verses too were fetched Out of a deeper well than common passion Hath skill to draw from. Frederick, who is the poet That I must love for this?
_F._ Love for my art 191 Hath made your ladyship too generous Towards a most humble workman. ’Tis my own.
_D._ Ah me! what must it be to be a poet, And in the abandoned humour that men take with, To give forth! O ’tis godlike! but the music,— ’Tis that you excel in: it hath a melancholy Which springs of love.
_F._ The whole world sprang of love; And art is but the praise the creature makes To the Creator.
_D._ True: and the best praise 200 Is but love’s echo. I mean you love some lady. She is very happy. Would I knew her name.
_F._ When I shall love a lady, and have means To court her, you shall hear gay music.
_F._ Your ladyship Must take this lady of your own creation With all her faults. Love is a luxury You may suspect in me when I have money To spend in presents.
_D._ Whom you love I know not: But whether it be a queen or peasant girl, 210 ’Tis all one. Love exalteth above rank Or wealth; yet in Love’s ritual ’twere well wished To express your homage fully. Ho, Sir Gregory! Sir Gregory!
_D._ Give Frederick A hundred ducats at my household charge.
_T._ (_to G._). Thou’rt to give my master A hundred ducats for a wherewithal To make his lady presents.