University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Daphne, Thyrsis.
Daph.
I knew long since Amintas lov'd
The haughty Sylvia, and Heaven knows
Have oft endeavour'd to dispose
Her heart to be as much concern'd
As he deserves, and I could wish:
But all that I can say's in vain,
For Bears and Tygers may be tam'd
Sooner than such a simple Maid,
As proud and silly as she's fair:
Who, ignorant of what she does,
Or that her Eyes are arm'd with death,
Commits new Murders every hour
And kills when she has no design to wound.

Thyr.
Where, Daphne, can you find a Maid
So weak, so innocent, so young,
As to be ign'rant of her Charms?
They early deck themselves with smiles,
They know the wounds their Eyes have made,
They know too what will cure those wounds,
And raise their Slaves from misery to bliss.

Daphne.
Who teaches 'em all this?

Thyr.
The same
That teaches Nightingales to sing,
The Peacock how to spread his Plumes,
That teaches Bulls to use their Horns,
The Ram to push, and Fish to swim:
Nature instructs em what to do,
Without the Mother or the Nurses help.

Daphne.
Nay Thyrsis, now I plainly see
Thou'rt both malicious and a fool;
But to speak truth, I don't believe
That Sylvia is as ignorant
As she pretends; for t'other day
I found her in the little Isle
That stands in yonder, spacious Meads,
Encompast with a Crystal Lake;
In whose clear Waters she beheld
Her Beauties; ravish'd with the sight,
She seem'd to ask 'em how to place
Her hair, and put her Garland on;
She often with her Cheeks compar'd
A Rose, and Lillies with her Neck;
On Rose and Lilly then she look'd
With scorn, as if she said, O Flow'rs,
Yield, yield to me; I wear ye now
That you may blush to be outdone,
And not for ornament, for see
I've better Graces of my own.
While thus she with the Waters play'd
She look'd around, and spy'd me out,
She drest herself in haste, and dropt
Her Flow'rs, asham'd to be perceiv'd.
I laugh'd aloud, and she I saw
Was more asham'd to see me laugh:
Yet did not dress her in such haste,
But to the Fountain once or twice
She ran, to see her hair was set
In order, and with pleasure saw
Those locks in sweet confusion flow,
Which haste had forc'd her to neglect:
I look'd and laugh'd, and said no more.

Thyr.
I ever did believe as much,
Tho I could never prove it true.

Daph.
I've heard that once the Nymphs and Swains
Scorn'd to adorn themselves by art;
Nor was it thus when I was young,
But now alas! the world grows old,
And older as it grows, decays.

Thyr.
The Citizens then seldom came
To us, the Shepherds seldom went
To them; but all things now are chang'd:
We learn their manners, and forget
Our Customs, by observing theirs.
This, Daphne, is not our concern;
D'ye think that Sylvia ne're will let
Amintas talk with her alone,
Or when you only shall be by?

Daph.
I can't tell,
She's extremely proud.

Thyr.
And he respectful to extreams.

Daph.
Respect in Lovers is a Vice;
You, who are his friend, should tell him,
That to succeed he must be bold;
Sollicit, sue, entreat, demand:
And if this method may not take,
Seize on the blessing he defires.
Don't you know, Thyrsis, womens tricks?
They only fly to be pursu'd,
Refuse what they would have ye take;
And fight that you may overcome.
I tell you freely all our faults,
And beg they may not be expos'd.

Thyrsis.
You need not fear that I will speak
More than you would have me say;
But I conjure thee by the thoughts,
The pleasing thoughts of thy past youth,
That you'll assist Amintas in his Love,
And save the wretch from death.

Daph.
By my past youth, the only thing
Which if I could I would forget,
Yet this you now conjure me by:
Well, what is't you would have me do?

Thyr.
You want no counsel, you can tell
As well as I what must be done
To save him, if you're so dispos'd.

Daph.
Sylvia and my self anon
Are to bath us in the Brook
Which is from Diana call'd;
Where the Nymphs that love the Chace
Play beneath the Plantain shade,
In the fiercest heats of noon:
There I tell you Sylvia baths,
And leaves naked all her Charms.

Thyr.
What then?

Daph.
What then? Why thou'rt a fool,
Can't you guess my meaning then?

Thyr.
I guess your meaning, tho I fear
Amintas will not dare to do't.

Daph.
Not dare! then truly he may stay
Till she seeks him.

Thyr.
'Twill be no more
Than he deserves.

Daph.
‘Enough of this:
‘Let's now talk something of your self;
‘D'ye never, Thyrsis, think of Love?
‘If I remember well your age,
‘You're not much older yet than he;
‘This is the season of desire:
‘Methinks you should not waste your youth
‘In idleness, but long to taste
‘What 'tis to Love,
‘For that's the only comfort of our lives.

Thyr.
‘The man who hates to be in Love,
‘May be as fond of its delights,
‘As one that languishes in tears;
‘He shuns the bitter, and enjoys the sweet.

Daph.
‘The bitter relishes the sweet;
‘The pleasure you come at with ease,
‘Soon cloys, and is not half so great,
‘As that which you must get by pain.

Thyr.
‘And I had rather soon be cloy'd,
‘Than always hunger after food.

Daph.
‘But when the food is once possest,
‘'Tis then you taste it with delight,
‘And fain would taste again.

Thyr.
‘Who can be when he will possest
‘Of such rich food?
‘And taste it when his hunger calls?

Daph.
‘He that ne're seeks can never find.

Thyr.
‘'Tis dangerous to seek the Joys,
‘Which pleas'd perhaps when they are found,
‘But plague us more if mist
‘When sighs and tears are not requir'd,
‘Thyrsis may be in love again;
‘I've wept and sigh'd my share, and now
‘Let others take their turn.

Daph.
‘You could not stay for your reward.

Thyr.
‘Rewards may be too dearly bought,
‘And such I'm not ambitious of.

Daph.
‘You'd better be inclin'd, than forc'd to Love.

Thyr.
‘I, who from the reach of Love
‘Live so far, despise his power;
‘By my distance I'm secure.

Daph.
‘Who lives beyond the reach of Love?

Thyr.
‘Such as fear and fly his snares.

Daph.
‘Such as fear him fly in vain,
‘Love has Wings as well as Fear.

Thyr.
‘When young his Feathers are so short
‘He hardly can extend his Wings,
‘And has not strength enough to fly.

Daph.
‘None perceive him when he's young;
‘E're you're certain of his birth,
‘His Wings grow large, are fit to spread,
‘And he has strength enough to fly.

Thyr.
‘Those who have been never caught
‘May be tempted by his Baits.

Daph.
‘Well, let's see if you can still
‘All his baits and snares escape;
‘Do your best, for if at last
‘You should be surpriz'd again;
‘If I ever hear you sigh,
‘See you languish, weep and mourn;
‘If you should be griev'd to death,
‘And a touch, a step, or word,
‘Would assist thee in thy Love,
‘Thou shouldst want such little helps,
‘And dye unpity'd with despair.

Thyr.
‘Could ye, Daphne, see me dye?
‘That indeed would be severe:
‘If you long to see me Love,
‘Love me then, and I am thine.

Daph.
‘You mock me, Youth, but you may know
‘I'm too young to be despis'd.

Thyr.
‘You're so fair you may be sure
‘All was real that I said:
‘But as Women use to do,
‘You refuse me, I must bear it,
‘And will strive to be content.

Daph.
‘Be content, and live in peace,
‘Live in Idleness and Rest,
‘Rest and Idleness beget
‘Tender Wishes, Wishes Love.

Thyr.
While in this calm repose we live,
‘And fear for nothing but our Lambs;
‘The fields abroad are spread with Tents,
‘The Swains there change their Crooks for Spears,
‘Their harmless Virgins are expos'd
‘To all the insolence of Lust.
‘While we enjoy celestial ease,
‘And dread no Enemies but Wolves,
‘Shall I in Loves soft bosom sleep?
‘No, Daphne, I'll extend my voice,
‘And sing the wonders of the Man,
‘The Godlike Man, who drove the foe
‘Far from these Woods, and gave us rest.
‘But lest my rustick Muse should wrong
‘His fame by her inferiour praise,
‘Like some whom Phœbus ne're inspir'd,
‘Who with vile Songs his name abus'd,
‘When they'd have rais'd it to the Skies.
‘With awful silence let me wait
‘Till Heaven the Hero shall restore
‘Triumphant to us from the War,
‘Then with fresh Roses strew his way,
‘And lay new Garlands at his feet.

Daph.
‘You soar aloft: pray if you please,
‘Descend, and think of our affairs.

Thyr.
‘You say you have agreed to meet
‘Sylvia at the Fountain, where
‘You intend to do your best
‘For our miserable friend
‘I'll go seek Amintas out,
‘Send him to you, but I fear
‘He will be as loth to come,
‘As she would be to have him.

Dap.
‘I'll go before, and should you follow,
‘Make as if you came by chance.

Thyr.
‘I will see. Yon Amintas comes.

SCENE II.

Amintas, Thyrsis.
Amin.
I fain, methinks, before I dye,
Would know how Thyrsis has succeeded:
If he can do more than I
Have done, and Sylvia will not hear
With patience any one that speaks for me,
Here on this spot of Earth I'll end my pains,
And in her presence finish with my breath,
The tortures of my Soul.
The wounds which in my breast my hands shall make
Will certainly transport her, since
With so much pleasure she beholds
The wounds which in my heart her eyes have made.

Thyr.
Courage, Amintas, I have news
To tell thee that will bring thee hope.

Amin.
Ah, Thyrsis, is it Life or Death?

Thyr.
'Tis Life and Joy, if thou art bold enough
To meet 'em where they're to be found:
But then, Amintas, 'tis requir'd
That thou shouldst shew thy self a Man;
A Man that dares do any thing for Love.

Amin.
What must I dare? and whom encounter?

Thyr.
Suppose your Mistress, in a Wood,
Encompast with high Rocks, where Wolves,
Where Lyons, Bears and Tygers lurk,
Would you to get her venture there?

Amin.
I'd run as joyfully as e're I went
To Dance and Revel at our rural Feasts.

Thyr.
Suppose her in the hands of Thieves,
Amidst arm'd Robbers, would you venture there?

Amin.
Swift as parcht Stags to cooling Waters run.

Thyr.
Something more daring, something yet more bold
Than this, is to be done to make thee blest.

Amin.
I'd leap into the Ocean, when the Waves
By ruffling Winds are mingled with the Clouds:
I'd walk thro Fire, or else, as I've been told
Orpheus once did, descend to Hell
To find my Sylv'a out, but sure
'Twould not be Hell if she were there.
Tell me then where I am to go?
And what I am to do?

Thyr.
Sylvia, naked and alone,
Attends thee at Diana's Brook:
Amintas durst thou venture there?

Amin.
What dost thou tell me? Sylvia wait
Naked and alone for me?

Thyr.
Alone, if Daphne is not there;
And if she is, you're safe in her.

Amin.
Wait for me, and naked!

Thyr.
Naked—But—

Amin.
But what? Speak out, thy silence kills me.

Thyr.
But 'tis not certain that she waits for thee.

Amin.
This ruins what you said before:
Ah! if you were not sure of that,
Why, Thyrsis, did you say so much?
Why did you shew me joy so near,
And fling me from my hopes so soon
Sure 'tis not friendly to insult
O're one in misery, like me:
Did you believe my griefs too light,
That you encrease their weight?

Thyr.
Be rul'd
By me, you shall be happy still.

Amin.
What would ye have me do?

Thyr.
Go seize
The Maid, while Fortune is your Friend.

Amin.
Ah! Heaven forbid that I should think
Of any thing that would displease her,
Whom I will ne're offend but by my Love;
And if my Love offends her,
'Tis her Beauty's fault, not mine:
In all my actions I resolve
More to consult her pleasure than my own.

Thyr.
If not to Love her were in your pow'r,
Would you cease loving her to please her?

Amin.
Love will not suffer me to think
Of loving her no more? But if
'Twere in my pow'r, 'twould ne're be in my will.

Thyr.
If you could cease your Love, you'd still
Continue it in spite.

Amin.
No, not in spite,
Yet I would Love her still.

Thyr.
Tho it were against her will.

Amin.
Rather than not Love at all.

Thyr.
Why won't you then against her will
Go take the blessing she denies?
Because she knows not yet how good
'Twould be to grant the favour you desire.
If she at first may be a little vext,
She'll soon be well contented with the fault.

Amin.
Love answers thus to what you say,
You have by long experience learnt
To reason of those things with art:
But tho your argument's too strong
For mine, yet I'm convinc'd that 'tis not right.
Love, with my tongue, confines my wishes,
And will not suffer 'em to stray,
Where Sylvia would not let 'em rove.

Thyr.
Then you resolve you will not go?

Amin.
Yes, I will go, but not where you
Advise.

Thyr.
Where then?

Amin.
To Death, if you
Can tell me of no other way
To life; if this is all the good
That you can do me by your help.

Thyr.
Is this so little then? And canst
Thou fancy, foolish as thou art,
That Daphne would have bid us come,
If she, who knows what Sylvia thinks,
Believ'd 'twould give her such offence?
She thought perhaps that 'twas not fit
For you and me to know as much
As she of Sylvia's Soul: Besides,
Enquiring farther in so nice a case,
Instead of pleasing will displease.
You often wisht that you knew how
To please her, you may do it now:
No matter if you take by theft
The joys you covet, or by gift;
When once they're tasted she'll forget
The Crime, the sin will be so sweet.

Amin.
But how can I be sure that I may go?

Thyr.
You can't be surer than you are:
She would, as decency requires,
Be angry, if you sought to know
More than Daphne bid me tell you.
Or how can you, on t'other side,
Be sure she would not have you come?
Since then you may perhaps be thought
As guilty should you stay; Proceed:
For tho 'tis faulty oft to dare,
'Tis always criminal to fear.
Your silence shews that you're convinc'd,
And your conviction promises success.
Come, follow me, I'll lead the way.

Amint.
Ah, stay a little.

Thyr.
Stay! You know
Time flys us.

Amint.
Prithee let us think
A little more of what we have to do.

Thyr.
We'll think a little more then as we go.
Come, you may alter if you tarry,
Things too much thought on frequently miscarry.

CHORUS.