Crown'd with a thousand stars, and our cold light:
For almost all the world their service bend
To _Phoebus_ and in vain my light I lend,
Gaz'd on unto my setting from my rise
Almost of none, but of unquiet eyes.

_Nigh_. Then shine at full, fair Queen, and by thy power
Produce a birth to crown this happy hour;
Of Nymphs and Shepherds let their songs discover,
Easie and sweet, who is a happy Lover;
Or if thou woot, then call thine own _Endymion_
From the sweet flowry bed he lies upon,
On _Latmus_ top, thy pale beams drawn away,
And of this long night let him make a day.

_Cinth_. Thou dream'st dark Queen, that fair boy was not mine,
Nor went I down to kiss him; ease and wine
Have bred these bold tales; Poets when they rage,
Turn gods to men, and make an hour an age;
But I will give a greater state and glory,
And raise to time a noble memory
Of what these Lovers are; rise, rise, I say,
Thou power of deeps, thy surges laid away,
_Neptune_ great King of waters, and by me
Be proud to be commanded.

[Neptune rises.

_Nep_. _Cinthia_, see,
Thy word hath fetcht me hither, let me know why I