University of Virginia Library

ACTUS 3.

Enter Diophantes and Evander.
The Scene, Loves Temple surrounded with Pillars of the Dorick Order, with a Dome or Cupilo o'th' top, and the Statues or Simulachrums of Venus and Cupid on an Altar in the midst of the Temple, all transparent.
Diophantes.
This is Loves Temple, here who e're repairs,
Findes Love propitious to their vows and Prayers:
Regard not then the proud materials,
Or outward structure of the Vaults and Walls;
But mark the Altar, and the sacred Shrine,
Then which the world has nothing more divine.

Ev.
Methinks there's somewhat more then humane here
Fills me with reverence and holy fear!

Dio.
Peace, the Ceremony begins.

Ev.
And do
the Nymphs begin it?

Enter all the Nymphs in solemn manner, addressing themselves unto the Altar.
Dio.
Yes,
For of that Sex, Vertues and Graces are
Of thât, all that is beautiful and fair;
And as the care of Cupids is to men,
So that of Venus's rites is due to them.

Ev.
I understand, and every thing I see
Is ordered here with rare œconomy.

Fi.
Thou fairest, brightest Star in heaven,
And most benigne of all the seven;
If on this day (when every year
We celebrate thy coming here:)
Thou dost not hear our prayers; 'tis we
Are rather wanting unto thee
Then thou to us; for thou wod'st grant
(We know) what ever we do want,
If we (on our parts) did but crave
What e're is fit for us to have;
Grant then to celebrate thy feast
A holy and religious Breast,
Vertue, high honour, beauty, health,
And minde above all other wealth;
Let others ask what boon they please,
All that we crave of thee are these:

All.
Oh hear our vows and prayers as we
do purely love and honour thee.

(Soft Musick.
Fi.
Thou doest confirm us by this Harmony,
O Love our Vows are pleasing unto thee.

Ev.
Now I perceive it is our faults, not theirs,
If when we pray, the gods don't hear our prayers.

Dio.
Peace now, the other Ceremony begins.

Fi.
Enter Theotimus, Chorus of Musicians one way, Bellinda the other, brought in by Polydor, Pamphilus, &c.

Chorus
sings.
Divinest Love does all command,
In fire and water, air and land;
And all with his commands inspire
In land and water, air and fire.

The.
Where is the Nymph?

Pol.
Great Sir, behold her here;—
bear back, bear back, room for the Nymph there.

Pam.
Now will he break my head,
onely to shew his authority, (you'l see)
'less I get me out of the way the sooner.

The.
Then fair and gentle Nymph draw near,
And all our Ceremonies hear,
Which to Religion do dispence
Both Mystery and Reverence:
We first must charm you silent, then
Must vail and blinde your eyes agen;
That you may see and speak with none,
Untill the Ceremony's done:
Then y'are to go to th'sacred Cell,
Where a full hour you are to dwell,
Before you are produc't to swear,
You love some one in Cyprus here;
Or else (refusing it) be sent
Into perpetual banishment.—
If then y'ave any thing to say,
Now speak it freely whilst you may.

Bel.
Prudence assist me, thou that best canst tell,
(Aside.
What I shu'd say, and what I shu'd conceal;—
Knowing great sir, how w'ar the gods chief care,
More dear to them, then to our selves we are:
Behold Bellinda here resigned stands
To obey your Laws, and their divine commands.

The.

The Charm.
Still-born Silence, thou that art
Flood-gate of the deeper heart,
Off-spring of a heavenly kinde,
Frost o'th' mouth, and thaw oth' minde;
Admirations chiefest tongue,
Leave thy desart Shades, among
Ancient Hermits hallowed Cells,
Where retyr'd Devotion dwells,
With thy Enthusiasmes come
Ceize this Maid, and strike her dumb.

Pam.
If every man that's troubled with
a shrew'd wife had but this Charm,
how happy shud he be?

The.
Now, reach us the sacred veil—
Where such a cloud of mysteries lyes,
As whilst we with it blinde your eyes,
If onely you convert your sight,
From th'outward to the inward light,
Illuminates your soul and minde
Sent from above, you soon will finde
The Sun here in its brightest Sphere,
Will darker then a shade appear.

(he vails her.
Pam.
Now were she and I
to play at blinde-man-buff together, ah!
what dainty sport shu'd we two make? she shu'd
catch me, or I'de catch her, 'tshu'd cost
one of us a fall else.

The.
Now to the sacred Cell set on,
Where w're to leave her all alone,
Until the hour's expir'd, and then
To th'Temple all repair agen.

(Exeunt.
Manet Pamphilus.
Pam.
Wo'd I were in the sacred Cell
with her now,
what holy work shu'd she and I make together?
if these holy whorsons did not hinder us;
as most commonly they hinder all good sport.—
Well, here will I spread my nets to catch
some of the Nymphs in their return;
'tis hard if they all 'scape me:
(Enter 1 Nymph.
And see here's one already.—Fair Nymph,
might I desire the honor to wait upon you home?

1
No indeed Sir.

Pam.
And why so?

1
Because 'tis not the custom
for Nimphs in this Country to go alone with men

Pam.
But 'tis the custom for men in our Country
when they're alone with women, to offer them
the courtesie of—you know what.

1
I know not what you mean!

Pam.
The more's the pitty
you shu'd live to these years, and be so ignorant;
the Nymphs in our Countrey
wo'd have understood me presently:

1
They better understand
what belongs to men perhaps; but we Sir, better
what belongs to women.

(Exit.
Pam.
Goodly, goodly! how say ye by that?
I was deceiv'd in her; but here comes another,
if I understand any thing in women,
Enter 2 Nymph.
will be more kinde.—Fair Nymph,

2
Pray keep your way Sir, and trouble me not.

Pam.
This is worse then to'ther!
Did you but know how much I love you,
you'd never refuse my courtesie.

2
And did you but know how little I care for it,
you'd never offer it.

Ham.
Hei ho! have ye the heart to hear me
sigh thus, and never pitty me?

2
Yes indeed, and to laugh at you for it too,
to hear you sigh thus
like a broken-winded bellows,
or a dry pump, and spend so much breath in vain,
as we shall never wonder hereafter
at Lapland Witches selling winde so cheap.

Pam.
But I shall alwayes wonder,
that hêre in Venus School the Nymphs shu'd learn
no more compassion.

2
Now ye talk of Schools,
I must to the Graces Grove,
where all the Nymphs are gone
to learn their lessons.

(Exit.
Pam.
And I will follow them;
strange that all shu'd be honest!
I have heard of one or two in a Countrey, or so,
but all, âll, was never heard of before!
I don't despair yet.
Well.

(Exit.
Enter Amaranthe, Filena, Cloria, Lydia, Melissa.
The Scene, the Graces Grove, the Statues of the three Graces in the midst, all hand in hand embrac'd.
Am.
Now Nymphs, here in the Graces Grove,
A place which Beauty most does love,
And gentle Love most highly prize,
Let's fall unto our exercise
Of studying all those gracious parts,
Which most do take and conquer hearts.

Enter Pamphilus.
Pam.
Now will I stand here conceal'd,
and observe them; they say, all women when
they are alone, put off their modesties;
I shu'd be glad to see it.

Am.
First Nymphs, in honour of the Graces
Let us compose our looks and faces
To gentle smiles, for no frowns here
In any face shu'd e're appear.

Pam.
If I thought they would not frown,
I shu'd soon be amongst them.

Am.
And next, as we our faces do,
We must compose our garments too
With such a decency, as best
Becomes the modest to be drest.

Pam.
Wo'd they'd put off their garments once,
that's it I look for.

Am.
But since the graces of the minde
Are those which most adorn our kinde,
It ought to be our chiefest care
To render our interiours fair;
Counting th'exterior nothing else,
But outward garments of our selves.

Pam.
Give me the out-side,
and take the inside who's list.

Am.
Other Graces there are beside,
Which Nymphs shu'd carefully provide,
As dancing, singing, and such arts,
Which through the Sences strike their hearts;
And give (where ever they are found)
That dangerous yet gentle wound,
Which never can be cur'd again,
Till Hymen ease their amorous pain.

Pam.
I co'd ease and cure it a great deal better,
if they would but let me alone with them.

Am.
Then let us sing, that Eccho may
The sound unto the Woods conveigh;
And after raising it more high,
The Woods conveigh it to the Sky;
That heaven and earth may both partake
The Harmony your Voices make.

(Here the Nymphs sing.
Pam.
I co'd make othergess musick with them,
if I were but master of the Quire amongst them.

Am.
Now let's have a dance, to shew,
How that which does enchant men so,
Is not the Magick of the face,
The red and white, nor bodies grace;
But 'tis the Magick of the feet,
Where all harmonious numbers meet.

(Here the Nymphs dance.
Pam.
I think there's witchcraft in't indeed,
for I can as well be hang'd as hold now,
but I must have a frisk amongst them;
Hei for our Town!

(He comes out dancing.
Fi.
A man amongst us!
what insolence is this?

(Exit.
Pam.
Nay, never look so strange on it,—
there are those can dance too, you
shall see else.

he dances 'em about one after another.
Mel.
Was ever seen the like?

Pam.
Yes twenty times,—How say you?

Lyd.
Away, are you not asham'd?

Pa.
No indeed, I was never asham'd in my life—
nay, you must have your turn too.

Clo.
Let me go,—or I'le cry out else.

Pam.
'Tis yet too soon,
I'le give you more cause presently.

Lyd.
Away Melissa.

(Exit.
Mel.
Away Cloria.

(Exit.
Clo.
Away Lydia.

(Exit.
Am.
Away all of you,
this is a rudeness must be complained of.

(Exeunt omnes, manet Pamphilus.
Pam.
Look ye! is not this a lamentable case?
that all the Nymphs shu'd flye me as chickens do
a Kite, or birds some strange Owl; yet I protest,
I mean them no more harm, then their fathers did
their mothers, as they shu'd soon perceive, if they
wo'd but try me once; I fear I shall never do
any good on them, yet I must follow them still:
For the devil's in't, when once we begin
to follow wenches, we can never give over.

Exit
Enter Philander solus.
The Scene, the Cyprian Shore, a waving Sea afar off discovered, &c.
Phi.
Hail happy Island! Natures chiefest care,
Where all things love, and all things fruitful are;
Where Spring-tide makes perpetual Residence,
And rigid Winter's ever banisht hence;
In you, (O blest and happy Land) in you
I shall finde her, (if the Oracle be true)
Through all the Islands of th'Egean Main,
These three moneths I have sought, and sought in vain;
Till here arriving now at last, I see
So vaste a solitude, as amazes me!
Nor on the barren Mauritanean Shore,
Or Lybian Desart, scarcely co'd be more!

(Enter Palemon.
Pal.
I'le hide me no longer from my fears, nor fly
The danger, 'tis childish and cowardly,
And (well considered) rather does increase
Our dangers and our fears, then make them less;
For looking through that false optick fear,
Danger does still more terrible appear,
And terrors in the dark far more afright
(Th'imagination of't) then in the light:
I'le then to the Temple, and whate're befal
By help of this, I am prepar'd for all.

Pointing to his Sword.
Phi.
Sir, might a stranger here desire to know
Why all your houses are deserted so,
As if some plague had swept 'um; and the Land
Depopulated, as if some enemies hand
Had mow'd it with the sword! to me it does
Appear to wonder strange, that love shu'd thus
Leave his own Land unpeopled, whilst he
Peoples all others so abundantly!

Pal.
Know Sir, 'tis not for want of people here,
Loves Kingdom does so desolate appear,
But just as we perceive from every part,
The blood does all retire unto the heart,
In any great commotion or dismay;
So all the people, in no less, to day
Are gone to th'Temple, in expectancy
O'th' issue of our great solemnity.

Phi.
What's that?

Pal.
Why, by the Laws of Cyprus, here
All strangers after three moneths are to swear
They love some one i'th Island, or be sent
Away into perpetual banishment:
Now Sir, this oath a Nymph to day must take,

Phi.
And why shu'd that
so great commotion make?

Pal.
'Cause she's the joy or grief of every one;
Joy if she stay, and grief if she be gone.

Phi.
What is this Nymph so much exacts your care,

Pal.
One who some three moneths since arrived here,
Wrack't on the Coast, (the rest all drown'd but she)
In whom appear'd so great divinity;
It was another Venus you'd have swore,
Born of the Sea, and landing on the shore.

Phi.
Just so long 'tis since she was stoln away
from Crete, to barbarous pyrates made a prey;
and her name, Sir,

Pal.
Bellinda, Sir, they call
this admirable Nymph:

Phi.
Her name and all?
and where is she?

Pal.
I'th sacred Cell inclos'd,
ready to take the oath.

Phi.
And is't suppos'd
she'l take it?

Pal.
That as yet, there's none can tell
But this (unto my grief) I can full well,
That less she does, you here behold in me
The wretchedst Lover ever eye did see,
Or ever liv'd in memory of men;

Phi.
Heavens! what do I hear?—are you her Lover then?

Pal.
Shu'd I deny it, these Trees wou'd tell you I am,
Upon whose Barks so oft I've carv'd her name;
This shore so oft my lamentations hears—
And Sea that I've augmented with my tears;
As with my sighs the air; these Sir, all these
Will tell you I am, though I shu'd hold my peace.

Phi.
O Heaven! in vain why did you valor give,
If I can hear this now, and let him live?
But stay, if seeing and loving her be a crime,
I must kill all mankinde as well as him;
For all wo'd guilty be, and you shou'd finde
None innocent, but the senseless, and the blinde:
I'le then suspend my anger, till I know
Whether Bellinda does love him or no;
For there, thêre onely the offence does lie,
Else hê's the person offended, and not I;
For never Tyrant invented greater pain,
Then 'tis to love, and not be lov'd again.—
It shall be so—and pray Sir, mayn't one see
This Nymph you speak of?

Pal.
Please you go with me
Unto the Temple Sir, there you may both
See her, and hear her take the sacred Oath.

Phi.
So confident!

Pal.
I've a promise Sir from her
makes me hope so.

Phi.
Then I may well despair—
(Aside.
yet will I not be jealous, for that,
Though it begins in love, does end in hate,
And I hêr love to mine so far prefer,
As I may hate my self, but never her—
Yet it is strange, if what he sayes be true!

Pal.
But has she any relation unto you,
you seem so much concern'd for her, Sir?

Phi.
No other
But what a Sister has unto a Brother;
If she be th'same as I imagine her:

Pal.
Then I beseech you Sir,
till some more near
relation and bond may binde me t'ye,
you wo'd be pleas'd for to accept of me
for your most humble Servant.

Phi.
That Sir, I
may not; but please you do me the courtesie
to shew me th'way unto the Temple, and you
shou'd much oblige me.

Pal.
That Sir I shall do
to shew my obedience, or any thing I may.
Exit. Pal.

Phi.
I'le follow you then,
please you to lead the way.—
Now dearest Love, in this thy kingdom be
As kinde and as propitious unto me.
As through thy grace and favour I hope to finde
Ease for my wearied limbs and troubled minde;
And a calm port and sure retreat at last
After so many storms and dangers past.
(Ex. Phil.