XXXVI. The wounded youth and kind Philocrates (So was her brother call'd) grew foon fo dear, So true and conftant in their amities, And in that league so strictly joined were, That death itself could not their friendship fever, 215 But as they liv'd in love they dy'd together. XXXVII. If one be melancholy, th' other's fad; XXXVIII. 220 Oft' in the woods Philetus walks, and there XXXIX. The crystal brooks, which gently run between Hearing Philetus tell his woeful state, In fhew of grief ran murm'ring at his fate.: XL. Philomel answers him again, and fhews, In her beft language, her fad history, And in a mournful sweetness tells her woes, Denying to be pos'd in mifery: Conftantia he, fhe Tereus, Tereus cries, 235 With him both grief, and grief's expreffion, vies.240 XLI. Philocrates must needs his fadness know, Willing in ills as well as joys to share, Nor will on them the name of friends bestow, XLII. But when his noble friend perceiv'd that he He watches him in hope to cure his fore When in the woods, places best fit for care, 250 Th obfequious friend straight follows him, and there Doth hide himself from fad Philetus' fight: 256 Who thus exclaims, for a fwoln heart would break, If it for vent of forrow might not speak. XLIV. "Oh! I am loft, not in this defert wood, "But in Love's pathless labyrinth; there I 260 "My health, each joy and pleasure counted good, "Have loft, and, which is more, my liberty, "And now am forc'd to let him facrifice "My heart, for rash believing of my eyes. XLV. 265 "Long have I ftaid, but yet have no relief, "Long have I lov'd, yet have no favour shown, "Because she knows not of my killing grief, "And I have fear'd to make my forrows known. "For why? alas! if she should once but dart "Difdainful looks, 'twould break my captiv'd heart. XLVI. "But how should the, ere I impart my love, 271 "Reward my ardent flame with like defire? "But when I fpeak, if she should angry prove, Laugh at my flowing tears, and fcorn my fire; Why, he who hath all forrows borne before, 275 "Needeth not fear to be oppress'd with more." XLVII. Philocrates no longer can forbear, Runs to his friend, and, sighing, “Oh!” said he, "My dear Philetus! be thyself, and swear "To rule that paffion which now masters thee, 280 "And all thy reason; but if it can't be, "Give to thy love but eyes, that it may fee." XLVIII. Amazement ftrikes him dumb; what shall he do? 290 At laft refolv'd; "How fhall I feek," said he, "T' excufe myself, dearest Philocrates! "That I from thee have hid this fecrefy? "Yet cenfure not, give me first leave to ease "My cafe with words; mygrief you should have known "Ere this, if that my heart had been my own. L. "I am all love; my heart was burnt with fire 295 "From two bright funs, which do all light disclose; "First kindling in my breast the flame, desire; "But, like the rare Arabian bird, there rofe "Oh! let not then my paffion cause your hate, Volume I. I 305 XII. Philetus he was call'd, fprung from a race And envious Fate had labour'd to deface But blinded Love could no fuch diff'rence fee. Yet he by chance had hit this heart aright, Unto Love's altar therefore he repairs, Entreating Cupid, with inducing pray'rs, Where having pray'd, recovʼring breath again, XV. "Oh! mighty Cupid! whose unbounded sway "Hath often rul'd th' Olympian Thunderer, "Whom all celestial deities obey, 70 75 80. 85 "Whom men and gods both reverence and fear! "Oh! force Conftantia's heart to yield to love; "Of all thy works the masterpiece 'twill prove. 90 |