University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Third.

Enter Corisca and Celia.
Corisca.
Yonder he goes; oh that bewitching Face;
“When I behold Mirtilloes every grace,
“His unaffected Carriage, all his Charms;
What pleasing heat my panting Bosom warms?
But when I think anothers Chains he wears,
And will be deaf to all my Sighs and Pray'rs,
That dismal thought my bleeding heart-strings tears.
“Shall I the flame of thousand hearts, the wrack
“Of thousand Souls, languish and burn, and lack
“That pitty I denyed to others? I
Who kill by Cruelty, by fondness dye.

Celia.
Talk not of dying, Death's an end of pain
To those that Love but once, and never Love again:
But thanks to Heav'n, you've no such danger nigh,
You have that pleasing Charm, Variety;
Let those that starve in Love, complain they dye.

Corisc.
Yes Girl, had I no other Love but this,
In Love there would be very little Bliss.
“How extream poor must that ill House-VVife prove,
“Who in all the World keeps but one only Love.
“What's Faith?
“What's Constancy? Tales which the Jealous feign,
“To awe fond Girls; Names as absurd as vain?
“Faith in a Woman (if at least there be
“Faith in a Woman unreveal'd to me,)
“Is not a Virtue, nor a Heav'nly Grace,
“But the sad Penance of a ruind Face,
“That's pleas'd with one, 'cause it can please no more.
A thousand fetter'd Slaves, should all before
A Beauteous Face fall prostrate, and adore.
“What's Beauty, tell me,
“If not pursued? where Lovers numerous are,
“It is a sign the person Lov'd is rare;
A Creature Charming, excellently fair.

Celia.
You Beauties then like Majesty in State,
“Keep a large Train. One Officer to wait,
“Another to present, a third to prate,
“A fourth for somewhat else.

Corisc.
Well Celia, when thy opening Beauty blows,
Grown up to Love, take my advice, and use
“Thy Lovers, like thy Garments, put on one;
“Have many; often shift, and wear out none.
“For daily Conversation breeds distast;
“Distast Contempt, and Loathing at the last.
“Then get the start, let not the Servant say,
“He has turn'd his Mrs, but she him away.
“These are the rules I take; I've choyce, and strive
“To please 'em all; to this, my hand I give,
“And wink on him; the handsom'st I admit
“Into my Bosom; but not one shall get
“Into my Heart; and yet I know not how
“(Ay me) Mirtillo's crept too near it now.

Celia.
For shame, leave sighing Sister, have more Pride;
You that have got so many Loves beside,
Cure this fond Thirst by some more pleasing tast;
In half your plenty, none but Fools would fast.

Corisc.
I never sigh'd, but to deceive before,
Such pains as these, till now, I never bore:
What shall I do?
Leave him, I cant; Court him I must not. Yes:
Love forbids that, and Honour hinders this.
“First then I'le try Allurements, and discover
“The Love to him, but will conceal the Lover.
If after this, he does my flame despise,
Nought but Revenge, shall my hot Rage suffice,
And my Proud Rival Amaryllis Dyes.
My Persecutor here—

Spying Sylvano Enter, she runs away.
Enter Sylvano and Dorco.
Sylva.
Corisca, stay.
Confusion seize her! how she hasts away?
Why by Heav'ns Curse and Malice was I Born
To be a Vassal to such Pride and Scorn?
“As Frosts to Plants, to ripend Ears a Storm;
“To Flowers the Mid-day-Sun, to Seed the Worm;
“To Stags the Toyles, to Birds the Lime-twiggs, so
“Is Love to man an everlasting Foe.
“And he that call'd it fire, pierced well into
“Its Treacherous Nature; for if fire you view,
“How bright and beautiful it is. Approacht,
“How warm and comfortable? but when toucht,
“Oh how it burns; the Monster-bearing Earth
“Did never Teem such a Prodigious Birth.
“Where e're Love fixes its Imperial Seat,
“Cottage and Pallace to its Rage submit.
So absolute is its too large Command,
Nothing can its Tyrannick pow'r withstand.
“So Love, if you behold it in a pair
“Of Starry-eyes, in a bright tress of hair;
“How temptingly it looks; what kindly flames
“It breaths? what Peace, what Pardons it proclaims?
“But if thou dost it in thy bosom keep,
“So that it gather strength, and can but creep,
“No Tygress in Hircanian Mountains Nurst,
“No Lybian-Lyoness is half so curst.
“Nor frozen Snake fosterd with humane breath,
“His Flames are hot as Hell, Bonds strong as Death.

Dor.
Why all this storm? leave her, and rage no more.

Sylv.
Preach silence to the Winds; I'le ne're give o're.
“Women, perfidious Women; all that's naught,
“In Love, from You is by Infection caught.
“He of himself is good, meek as the Dove,
“That draws the Chariot of the Queen of Love.
“But you have made him wild—
“You, who your Care, your Pride, and Pleasure place
“In the meer out-side of a Wanton face.
“Nor is't your business how to pay true Love,
“And study whether shall more constant prove.
“To bind two souls in one, and of one heart,
“To make the other but the Counter-part.
But how to use those arts you should abhor;
“To paint your faded Cheeks, to cover o're
“The faults of Time and Nature. How ye make
“Pale Feulemort a pure Vermillion take;
“Fill up the wrinckles; dye black, white; a spot
“With a spot hide, where 'tis; make't where 'tis not.
“And all the while such Torment you are in,
“That 'tis at once a Penance and a Sin.

Dorco.
But for Coriscas Crimes, why must you strike
At the whole Sex?

Sylv.
Damne 'em, they're all alike.

Dor.
But why such rayling?

Sylv.
Rayling do you call't!
There's not that Accusation, nor that Guilt,
As barbarous as Hell could e're invent;
Of which Perfidious Woman's innocent.
“Do their lips open? E're they speak, they lye;
“And if they sigh, they lye most damnably.
“False lights their Eyes are, and false weights their Ears;
“Their Hearts false measures, and false Pearl their Tears.
“So talk, or look, or think, or laugh, or cry;
“Seem, or Seem not; walk, sit, or stand, they lye.

Dor.
If Women are such Monsters as you make,
How have they Charms, mens hearts how can they take?

Sylv.
Their Snare's so plain, you'd wonder we are caught:
But Love is man's misfortune, not his fault.
For to promote their curst bewitching Arts,
They steal our Reasons first, and then our Hearts.
And th'acts of Mad-men can't be call'd their sin,
And none but Mad-men ever take Love in.
Yes, Mad indeed, when we repose our trust
“In those who would dye, rather than be just.
“These are the cursed Arts, these are the ways
“That have made Love so hateful in our days.
“False and ungrateful Nymph. Example take
“By me, unskilful Lovers, how ye make
“An Idol of a Face; and tak't for granted,
“There's no such Devil as a Woman Sainted.
“She thinks her Wit and Beauty without peer,
“And o're thy slavish Soul does domineer,
“Like some great Goddess, counting thou wert born
“As a thing Mortal only for her scorn.
“Takes all that praise as Tribute of her merit,
“Which is the flattery of thy abject spirit.

Dor.
Why then so humbly is that Sex adored?
And each kind Look with sighs and tears implor'd?
“These are the Womans Arms: Take the best way,
Pursue, and tire, and seize her as your prey.

Sylv.
Thou hast inspir'd my soul, and I'le obey.
Since Tears and Prayers are vain, a bolder course
I'le steer: I am resolved t'enjoy by force:
“I must strike fire out of her Breast, by dint
“Of Steel; what Fool used Bellows to a Flint?
“Corisca, thou shalt find no more of me
“That bashful Lover. No; I'le let her see
“That Love sometimes (though he appear stark blind)
“Can from his Eyes the Handkercher unbind.
And when I once have got her in my Arms,
I'le sport and revel in her Riffled Charms.

Exeunt.