THE SONG.

O princely face and fayre, that lightens all the ayre, Would God my eyes kind fire might life and soule inspire.  To thy rich beauty shining in my hearts treasure, The unperfect words refining for perfect pleasure.

Ench.  Lie there and lose the memorie of her
Who likewise hath forgot the thought of thee
By my inchantments.  Come, sit down, fair Nimphe,
And taste the sweetnesse of these heavenly cates,
Whilst from the hollow cranies[72] of this rocke
Musick shall sound to recreate my love. 
But tell me had you ever lover yet?

Luc.  I had a lover, I thinke, but who it was,
Or when, or how, long since, aye me, I know not. 
Yet beat my timerous thoughts on such a thing;
I feele a pasionate hearte but finde no flame,
Thinke what I know not, nor know what I thinke.

Ench.  Hast thou forgot me, then?  I am thy love,
Whom sweetly thou wert wont to entertaine
With lookes, with vowes of love, with amorous kisses. 
Lookst thou so strange? dost thou not know me yet?

Luc.  Sure I should know you.

Ench.  Why, love? doubt you that? 
Twas I that lead you through the painted meadows,
When the light Fairies daunst upon the flowers,
Hanging on every leafe an orient pearle[73]
Which, strooke together with the silver winde
Of their loose mantels, made a silvery chime. 
Twas I that winding my shrill bugle horn,
Made a guilt pallace breake out of the hill,
Filled suddenly with troopes of knights and dames
Who daunst and reveld whilste we sweetly slept
Upon a bed of Roses, wrapt all in goulde. 
Doost thou not know me yet?

Luc.  Yes, now I know you.

Ench.  Come then, confirme thy knowledge with a kiss.

Luc.  Nay, stay, you are not he:  how strange is this!

Ench.  Thou art growne passing strange, my love, To him that made thee so long since his bride.

Luc.  O, was it you? come then.  O stay a while: 
I know not what[74] I am nor where I am,
Nor you, nor these I know, nor any thing.

    Enter Flores with Hance and the Peasant.

Pea.  This is the greene, Sir, where I had the cup,
And this the bottome of a falling hill;
This way I went following the sound.  And see—­

Han.  O see, and seeing eate withall.

Flo.  What? Lassenbergh laid bound, and fond Lucilia. 
Wantonly feasting by a strangers side! 
—­Peasant, be gone: 

[Exit Peasant[75]]

Hance, stand you there and stir not.—­ Now sparckle forth thy beams, thou vertuous Jemme, And lo[o]se these strong enchantments.

Ench.  Stay! aye me,
We are betrai’d!  Haste, spirits, and remove
This table and these cups,—­remove, I say: 
Our incantations strangely are dissolv’d.