_Apol._ Yet, (howe're
She shall interpret it) I'le not be wanting
To do my best to serve her: I have prepar'd
Choise Musick near her Cabinet, and compos'd
Some few lines, (set unto a solemn time)
In the praise of imprisonment. Begin Boy.
THE SONG.
_Look out bright eyes, and bless the air:_
_Even in shadows you are fair._
_Shut-up-beauty is like fire,_
_That breaks out clearer still and higher._
_Though your body be confin'd,_
_And soft Love a prisoner bound,_
_Yet the beauty of your mind_
_Neither check, nor chain hath found._
_Look out nobly then, and dare_
_Even the Fetters that you wear._
_Enter_ Cleopatra.
_Cleo._ But that we are assur'd this tastes of duty,
And love in you, my _Guardian_, and desire
In you, my _Sister_, and the rest, to please us,
We should receive this, as a sawcy rudeness
Offer'd our private thoughts. But your intents
Are to delight us: alas, you wash an _Ethiop_:
Can _Cleopatra_, while she does remember
Whose Daughter she is, and whose Sister? (O
I suffer in the name) and that (in Justice)
There is no place in _AEgypt_, where I stand,
But that the tributary Earth is proud
To kiss the foot of her, that is her Queen,
Can she, I say, that is all this, e're relish
Of comfort, or delight, while base _Photinus_,
Bond-man _Achillas_, and all other monsters
That raign o're _Ptolomy_, make that a Court,
Where they reside, and this, where I, a Prison?
But there's a _Rome_, a _Senate_, and a _Caesar_,
(Though the great _Pompey_ lean to _Ptolomy_)
May think of _Cleopatra_.
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