_Alex._ Oh my fire,
How thou consum'st me! _Cloe,_ answer me,
_Alexis_, strong _Alexis_ , high and free,
Calls upon _Cloe_. See mine arms are full
Of entertainment, ready for to pull
That golden fruit which too too long hath hung
Tempting the greedy eye: thou stayest too long,
I am impatient of these mad delayes;
I must not leave unsought these many ways
That lead into this center, till I find
Quench for my burning lust. I come, unkind. [_Exit_ Alexis.
_Daph._ Can my imagination work me so much ill,
That I may credit this for truth, and still
Believe mine eyes? or shall I firmly hold
Her yet untainted, and these sights but bold
Illusion? Sure such fancies oft have been
Sent to abuse true love, and yet are seen,
Daring to blind the vertuous thought with errour.
But be they far from me with their fond terrour:
I am resolv'd my _Cloe_ yet is true. [Cloe _within._
_Cloe_, hark, _Cloe_: Sure this voyce is new,
Whose shrilness like the sounding of a Bell,
Tells me it is a Woman: _Cloe_, tell
Thy blessed name again. _Cloe_. [_within_] Here.
Oh what a grief is this to be so near,
And not incounter!
_Enter_ Cloe.
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