ENCHANTER. Lie there and lose the memorie of her
Who likewise hath forgot the thought of thee
By my inchantments. Come, sit downe faire Nimphe
And taste the sweetnesse of these heavenly cates,
Whilst from the hollow craines of this rocke,
Musick shall sound to recreate my love.
But tell me had you ever lover yet?

LUCILLA. I had a lover I thinke, but who it was,
Or where, or how long since, aye me, I know not:
Yet beat my timerous thoughts on such a thing,
I feel a passionate heate but finde no flame:
Thinke what I know not, nor know what I thinke.

ENCHANTER. Hast thou forgot me then? I am thy love,
Whom sweetly thou wert wont to entertaine,
With lookes, with vowes of love, with amorous kisses,
Look'st thou so strange? doost thou not know me yet?

LUCILLA. Sure I should know you.

ENCHANTER.                       Why, love, doubt you that?
‘Twas I that lead you through the painted meades,
When the light Fairies danced upon the flowers,
Hanging on every leafe an orient pearle,
Which, strooke together with the silken winde,
Of their loose mantels made a silver chime.
‘Twas I that winding my shrill bugle horne,
Made a guilt pallace breake out of the hill,
Filled suddenly with troopes of knights and dames,
Who daunst and reveld whilst we sweetly slept,
Upon a bed of Roses wrapt all in goulde,
Dost thou not know me yet?

LUCILLA.                   Yes, now I know you.

ENCHANTER. Come then confirme thy knowledge with a kis.

LUCILLA. Nay stay, you are not he, how strange is this!

ENCHANTER. Thou art growne passing strange my love,
To him that made thee so long since his bride.

LUCILLA. O, was it you? Come then, O stay a while,
I know not what I am nor where I am,
Nor you, nor these I know, nor any thing.