Why then should mortals be
Unwilling to be free
From blood, that sullen cloud,
Which shining souls does shroud?
Then they'll shew bright,
And like us light,
When leaving bodies with their care,
They slide to us and air_.
_Zemp_. Death on these trifles! Cannot your art find
Some means, to ease the passions of the mind?
Or, if you cannot give a lover rest,
Can you force love into a scornful breast?
_Ism_. Tis reason only can make passions less;
Art gives not new, but may the old increase;
Nor can it alter love in any breast,
That is with other flames before possessed.
_Zemp_. If this be all your slighted arts can do,
I'll kindle other flames, since I must burn,
And all their temples into ashes turn.
_Ism_. Great queen--
_Zemp. If you would have this sentence staid,
Summon their godheads quickly to your aid,
And presently compose a charm, that may
Love's flames into the stranger's breast convey,
The captive stranger, he whose sword and eyes
Wheree'er they strike, meet ready victories:
Make him but burn for me, in flames like mine,
Victims shall bleed, and feasted altars shine:
If not--
Down go your temples, and your gods shall see
They have small use of their divinity. [_Exeunt_.
ACT IV.
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