Hor. What means my love? Bel....

Hor. What means my love?

Bel. I know not what myself;

And yet my heart foretells me some mischance.

Hor. Sweet, say not so; fair fortune is our friend,

And heav'ns have shut up day to pleasure us.

The stars, thou see'st, hold back their twinkling shine,

And Luna hides herself to pleasure us.

Bel. Thou hast prevail'd; I 'll conquer my misdoubt,

And in thy love and counsel drown my fear.

I fear no more; love now is all my thoughts.

Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease.

Hor. The more thou sit'st within these leafy bowers,

The more will Flora deck it with her flowers.

Bel. Ay, but if Flora spy Horatio here,

Her jealous eye will think I sit too near.

Hor. Hark, madam, how the birds record by night,

For joy that Bel-Imperia sits in sight.

Bel. No, Cupid counterfeits the nightingale,

To frame sweet music to Horatio's tale.

Hor. If Cupid sing, then Venus is not far:

Ay, thou art Venus, or some fairer star.

Bel. If I be Venus, thou must needs be Mars;

And where Mars reigneth, there must needs be wars.

Hor. Then thus begin our wars: put forth thy hand,

That it may combat with my ruder hand.

Bel. Set forth thy foot to try the push of mine.

Hor. But first my looks shall combat against thine.

Bel. Then ward thyself: I dart this kiss at thee.

Hor. Thus I retort the dart thou threw'st at me.

Bel. Nay, then to gain the glory of the field,

My twining arms shall yoke and make thee yield.

Hor. Nay, then my arms are large and strong withal:

Thus elms by vines are compass'd, till they fall.

Bel. O, let me go; for in my troubled eyes

Now may'st thou read that life in passion dies.

Hor. O, stay a while, and I will die with thee;

So shall thou yield, and yet have conquer'd me.

Thomas Kyd, The Spanish Tragedy. http://www.luminarium.org/renascence-editions/kyd1.html.

Full-texts of The Spanish Tragedy: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/6043/6043-h/6043-h.htm

http://www.luminarium.org/renascence-editions/kyd1.html