Olimpa's Unfortunate Love;
OR ,
GALLIUS his Treacherous Cruelty .
A new Song, as it is Sung in a Play , called, The Spanish Fryer.
At the Kings Theatre, with great applause.
Fairest Olimpia at last being won,
Did yield to Gallius , who has her undone
Her Honour's lost, & he does her neglect
His ends being gain'd he shews her no respect:
But flies her arms, whilst that false man she crys
And in her Blood her fatal Dagger dyes.
To a pleasant new Play-House Tune.
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F Arewel ungrateful Traytor,
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farewel my perjur'd Swain
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[L]et never injur'd creature
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believe a man again:
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[T]he pleasure of possessing,
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[S]urpasses all expressing,
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[B]ut 'tis too short a blessing,
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and love too long a pain.
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'Tis easie to deceive us,
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in pitty of your pain.
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But when we love you leave us,
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to rail at you in vain:
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Before we have discry'd it,
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There is no bliss beside it,
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But she that once has try'd it,
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will never love again.
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The passion you pretended,
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was only to obtain,
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But when the Charm is ended
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the Charmer you disdain:
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Your love by ours we measure,
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Till we have left our treasure,
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But dying is a pleasure,
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when living is a pain.
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For who would live in torment,
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to be each moment slain,
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By flames of love so fervent,
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enrag'd by mans disdain:
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When death has power to ease us,
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Of all the woes that seize us,
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And sorrows that displease us,
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so ne're to grieve again.
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No tortures like to loving,
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and not be lov'd again,
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Yet we are oft approving,
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of such a fatal bane;
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By crediting their wishes,
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Their toying and their kisses
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Which do but raise our blisses,
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to fall beneath disdain.
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They only are for pleasure,
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our honours so to stain,
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Then let us grieve at leisure,
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they'l laugh when we complain:
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And still will prove more cruel
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By adding of new fuel,
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In which they think they do well,
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to martyr us with pain.
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Whilst like the Phenix frying,
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we in sweet Gums remain,
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They triumph in our dying,
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and boast they trophies gain
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But cruel man tis faded,
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Since you my Love invaded,
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I will not be upbraided,
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first Death shall end my pain.
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O witness all ye powers,
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how he my Love did gain,
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Whilst oft in shady bowers
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he swore he would remain:
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The constantest of Lovers,
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But now my Loss discovers,
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How black my fate it hovers,
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and how his vows were vain.
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With that a sigh she breathed,
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whilst in her breast the flame
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Did struggle to be eased,
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when ah! she did proclaim;
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Too Cruel Galius flying,
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When thy Olimpia's dying,
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With gloomy eyes the eying,
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each corner of the plain.
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When as she Deaths keen message
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out of her bosome drew,
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And gave it speedy passage,
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her life for to subdue;
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Then cry'd false man, her passion
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Who first for you took Station,
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Fate weds past alteration,
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Olympia Dyes for you:
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