DARIA.
I say so
For good cause: in books profane
Thou unceasingly delightest,
Verse thou readest, verse thou writest,
Of their very vanity vain.
And if thou wouldst have me prove
What I say to thy proceeding,
Tell me, what 's this book thou 'rt reading?

CYNTHIA.
'T is The Remedy of Love.
Whence thou mayst perceive how weak
Is thy inference, thy deduction
From my studious self-instruction;
Since the patient who doth seek
Remedies to cure his pain
Shows by this he would grow better;--
For the slave who breaks his fetter
Cannot surely love his chain.

NISIDA.
This, though not put quite so strong,
Was involved in the conclusion
Of my lay: Love's disillusion
Was the burden of my song.

DARIA.
Remedies and disillusions,
Seek ye both beneath one star?