University of Virginia Library

Scene 1.

Astræa.
Cease Shepheards, cease, your Praises flatt'ring bait
Deceives our Sex but through our self Conceipt;
I am become distastful to my Sence;
You lose your Purpose in a vain Pretence:
If otherwhile, I glori'd in your Fame,
'Twas but to fann my Lovers gentle Flame,
Which now's extinguisht with a new Desire,
Leaving my faln Hopes to their fun'rall fire.
You that in Princes Palaces reside,
With wealth and honors to be dignifi'd,
Y'ave some Pretence, when with obsequ'ous Phrase,
On weak Believers, you your Ends do raise:
On my abus'd Faith what can any gain,
Save from my Weakness, more reproachfull Stain?
A shamefull Conquest 'tis by wyle t'erect
A Trophy there, where Innocence blinds Suspect.
You Gods! (not to capitulate your Will,
But it enlightened better to fulfill)
Say why, oh why did your first Law inspire
Ev'n senseless things with this myster'ous Fire,
Which we call Love? Was't not in Peace to tie
Each disagreeing part by Harmonie?
Each might by Nature's hid propensi'on know
What it supports, what it doth overthrow:
Which else would (headlong rushing to their End)
The rafters of this well fram'd World distend.
How come's it then that Reason hath less pow'r?
What you gave to preserve, doth me devour;
It seems that Reason in this corrupt state,
Forsaking Nature, doth prevaricate.
But why him clad in Natures best array?
As if through finest Lawn you would display
Your purest Essences obvious to Sense,
Which to all Fancies, else, were too immense;
Since he so much degen'rates from their kind,
In so fair Form bearing so false a Mind.
As Mortals, you your best works do not use
Our facile Faiths the sooner to abuse;
She lying on the Bank, which is raised with a little hollow to present a Rivulet, cals her Dog to her.
Rather thus much this seems to intimate,
Ingratefull Man all Ties will violate.
Come my Melampo! Gratefull more art thou,
Who only Natures motives dost allow.

Celadon.
With equall rev'rence, as the swarthy Lay
Bow's to the early messenger of day,
I offer at thy shrine a purer Flame
Then his, to whom they Homage for the same.
You Gods allow't, since in her milder Eye
Y'ave rais'd a Throne more fit your Deitie.
Why shrowd's those beams, like to a sullen Morn,
When, with contracted Clouds, she threats a Storm?

Astræa.
Thy fain'd Ignorance doth thy self accuse,
She rises.
Whilst with thy Craft thou wouldst me twice abuse;
Could else thy Souls so oft vow'd Unity,
Cease to inform thee by Loves Sympathie?
But since th'estrang'd Thoughts have that Vertue spilt,
Look in thine Heart, and learn it of thy Guilt.

Celadon.
If yet to try my never fading Love
This Anger thou put'st on; invent and prove.
If thou would'st have me die, my Sentence give,
And I shall think it ev'n a Crime to live.

Astræa.
Whereas the Truth so plainly doth appear,
We need no farther Proofs our doubts to clear;
For Punishment, no pow'r is in my Breath,
Thy Life will make it greater, then thy Death.

Celadon.
Thy Cruelty speaks truth in that! yet stay,
She seems to flie from him, who holds her, and kneels.
My Life, my Death, give ear what I shall say;
For unknown Crimes no pardon I pretend;
'Tis guilt unpardonable, thee but t'offend.
Severest Ex'cution do not defer,
Sure I deserv't, for sure thou canst not err.

Astræa.
Unskilfull is that Pilot, 'gainst one shelf,
And by th'same storm, haps twice to loose himself.
Disloyall wretch (till bid) no more come nigh
She forces her self from him.
The vastest compass of my mournful eye.

Celadon.
Stay, stay, shee's gone; and all of her me left,
Is this poor Riband, her Force made my Theft;
He kisses it
Sacred Relique of my departed Saint,
Be not offended with my just Constraint.
But in my all, of all forsaken death,
Witness to whose lov'd will I yield my breath.
Let no rude hand from this part ere thee force,
He ties it to his arm.
But he thou still the Orn'ment of my Course,
He casts himself into a little descending place representing a River. Astræa being retir'd to hearken what he would say, comes back with jealousie to see what was become of him. She seeing him fall into the River, fals upon the bank thereof, and so rowls into the same place where he fell.
And if the curious World do seek to know
How, or for what, I dy'd, do thou it show.

Astræa.
My jealous fear thus hasteth my return,
The more I seem to quench, the more I burn:
I was too harsh! to hear him I denide:
Let's haste to help, 'tis now no time to chide.

Lycidas, Phillis encounter.
Lycidas.
What wanton God pursues thy flying Fear,
Making more Beauties, then thou wouldst, appear!
Let these mine arms thy Sanctuary be;
No violence here but what proceeds from thee.

Phillis.
Hastily and in some distraction.
Licidas, well met, let's haste; from yonder wall
I saw a Shepheard in the River fall.

Lycidas.
Whereabouts was't? observ'd you well?

Phillis.
Here, here,
The sad Object of my ill-boding Fear.
They lift her up, who seems to come to her senses.
Astrea! oh, my dear companion! speak;
Or to associate Thine, my Heart shall break.

Astræa.
Why doth untimely Charity affright
My resting Soul with horror of the light?
Natures decree enjoyneth but one Death;
Why force you me surrender twice my breath?
Lycidas! thy brother from the proud Stream save,
Or these sad Flouds yield me a second Grave.

She seems to weep.
Phillis.
Courage, my dear Companion; kinder Fate,
In this your safeguard, seems to cease his hate.