University of Virginia Library

Scena secunda.

Dorinda, Lupino, Silvio.
She bringing in Silvio's Dog.
Dor.
Faithfull and fortunate, delight and care
Of my fair Silvio, and as proud as fair.
Thrice fortunate Melampo, that I were
Unto thy cruell Master half so deer!
With that white hand with which he gripes my heart,
He stroaks and he feeds thee. He doth not part
From thee by night, nor part from thee by day;
Whilst I that so much love him, in vain pray,
And sigh in vain. And that which worse I bear
Then all the rest, he gives to thee such deer
And lushious kisses, one of which would make
Me rich, and I too kisse thee for his sake
Happy Melamp'; O dog sent from above
To steer the erring footsteps of blind Love!
Lead on, sure guide, whither Affection mee,
But Nature onely, and Instinct drawes thee.
But list a little, doth not a horn blow
In this neer thicket?

Sil.
Sogh Melampo, Sogh!

Dor.
That is (if Love delude me not) the sound
Of Silvio's voice, who seems to call his hound
About these woods.

Sil.
Melampo, Sogh, hogh, hogh.

Dor.
It is the very voice of Silvio.
Happy Dorinda, to whom Heav'n hath sent
The selfsame thing in search whereof I went!
I'll hide the dog; with that he holds so deer
I may chance buy his love. Lupino!

Lup.
Here.

Dor.
Go take this dog, and hide thee hereabout:
Conceiv'st thou me?

Lup.
I do.

Dor.
But come not out
Untill I call.

Lup.
I wo'n't.

Dor.
Nay, quickly man.

Lup.
And do thou quickly take some order than,
That if the dog should have a hungry sit,
He may not swallow me up at a bit.

Dor.
A Coward? Hence.

Sil.
O whither shall I steer
My wretched steps to follow thee my deer
Faithfull Melampo? over hill and plain
Till I am tir'd and foundred I in vain
Have hunted for thee. Cursed be the Doe
Thou follow'dst. But behold, a Nymph may know
Some news of him! O vile encounter! This
Is she, who with her importunities
Torments me still: but there's no remedy
Save patience now. Fair Nymph, didst thou see my
Faithfull Melampo, whom I slipt while-ere
After a Doe?

Dor.
I (Silvio) fair? I fair?
Why dost thou call me fair, if that I be
Not fair in thy eyes?

Sil.
Fair or fowl, didst see
My dog? Answer me that: if not, I go.

Dor.
So harsh to her adores thee, Silvio?
Who would beleeve in that sweet shape could nest
So sowr a soul? Thou follow'st a wild beast
That flyes thee, over rocks; and for a curre
Vexest thy body and thy minde: but her
That follows thee, and thy content doth prize
Above the world, thou fly'st and dost despise.
Ah! do not follow a wild flying Doe,
Let not a tame one (caught already) goe.
Do not unbind her.

Sil.
Nymph, I came in search
Of my Melampo, not to hear thee preach.
Adieu.

Dor.
O fly not, cruell Silvio:
I'll tell thee news of thy Melampo.

Sil.
Goe,
Thou mockst, Dorinda.

Dor.
By that love I swear
That makes me Silvio's Servant, I know where
He is. Thou sayst he did a Doe pursue?

Sil.
He did: and straight I lost them both from view.

Dor.
The Dog and Doe then at this present time
Are in my pow'r.

Sil.
In thy pow'r?

Dor.
Yes, in mine.
'Twas that I said: Dost thou think much that shee
Should love thy Dog (ungratefull) who loves thee?

Sil.
My deer Dorinda, give 'em to me straight,

Dor.
Our Shittle-cock, I'm come to a fine state
When beasts endeer me to thee. But indeed
(My heart) thou gettst them not without some meed.

Sil.
And reason good, I'll give thee; Let me see—
(I'll cousen her).

Dor.
What wilt thou give to me?

Sil.
Two fair Queen-apples I will give to thee,
Which my own fairer Mother gave to me
The other day.

Dor.
For apples, I want none:
I could give thee two fairer of my own,
And sweeter too, but that thou carest not
For what I give.

Sil.
Then wouldst thou have a goat?
Or Lambkin? (but my Father will not let
Me make so bold with what is his as yet.)

Dor.
Nor Goat, nor Lambkin do I care to have:
Thee onely, Silvio, and thy love I crave.

Sil.
My love? No more?

Dor.
No more.

Sil.
I g'it thee: so,
Give me my Dog (deer Nymph) now, and my Doe.

Dor.
Ah, that thou knewst the worth of what thou art
So bounteous of, and spak'st now from thy heart!

Sil.
Nymph, mark my words: I finde thou talkst to me
Still of a thing call'd Love; what this should be
I know not: thou wouldst have me love thee; and
I doe (as farre as I can understand)
With all my heart: thou call'st me cruell; I
Am ignorant of what is crueltie.
How should I please thee?

Dor.
In whom hop'st thou, poor
Dorinda? whence dost thou expect thy cure?
From such a Beauty as hath felt as yet
No spark of that which doth all Lovers set
On fire? Art thou my flame, and art not hot?
Dost thou breath Love, and what it is knowst not?
That gentle Goddesse whom the Cyprians honour
Took a most beauteous humane shape upon her
To bring thee forth: Fire-brands thou hast and dart,
Witnesse my flaming and my bleeding heart.
Add wings, another Cupid thou wilt prove,
At least want nothing to be Love, but love.

Sil.
What is this Love?

Dor.
When I behold thy eyes,
It is the light of Paradise.
But mine own heart consider'd well,
It is the very fire of hell.

Sil.
Nymph, what a prating is here with thee?
Give me my Dog and Doe, now prithee.

Dor.
Give me the love first that I bargain'd for.

Sil.
Have I not gi'n it thee? Fie, what a stir
There is to please this woman! Take it: do
What thou wilt with it. Who forbids thee? who
Withholds it? On what trifles dost thou stand?

Dor.
Wretched Dorinda, thou dost sow the sand,
And fondly undertak'st labour in vain.

Sil.
What dream'st thou of? why holdst thou me in pain?

Dor.
When thy desire's once granted, thou wilt go
And leave me straight, perfidious Silvio.

Sil.
No
Indeed, fair Nymph.

Dor.
Give mee a pawne then.

Sil.
Name
The pawn.

Dor.
Alas! I dare not.

Silv.
Why?

Dor.
For shame.

Sil.
But how then can I give it thee?

Dor.
I would
Fain without naming it be understood.

Sil.
If th'art asham'd to name it, thou maist be
Asham'd to take it.

Dor.
Promise it to me,
And I will name it.

Sil.
I do promise it:
But thou must name it first.

Dor.
Canst thou not hit
My thoughts then? I should have conceiv'd thee
If thou hadst said but half so much to me.

Sil.
Thou hast more wit then I, Dorinda.

Dor.
I
Have more Love, Silvio, and lesse Cruelty.

Sil.
Truth is, I am no witch: if thou'dst have me
To understand thee, speak.

Dor.
O misery!
That which I beg of thee is one of those
Things thy kind mother upon thee bestowes.

Sil.
A box o'th'ear?

Dor.
To ones that loves thee so?

Sil.
Those things my mother doth on me bestow.

Dor.
Nay, that's not so: But doth not she give thee
A Kisse sometimes?

Sil.
She neither kisses me,
Nor would have others kisse me. Is't a Kisse
Thou dost desire of me? It is, it is:
Thy blush betrayes thee. Come, I'le give it thee:
But first my Dog and Doe.

Dor.
Dost promise me?

Sil.
I promise thee.

Dor.
And with me wilt thou stay?

Sil.
Why dost thou vex me thus? Did I not say
I would?

Dor.
Come forth Lupino, dost not hear?
Lupino.

Lup.
Ogh! ogh! what a brawling's there?
Who calls me? O I am come. It was not I
That slept, it was the Dog slept verily.

Dor.
Look Silvio, there's thy Dog, that might to thee
Have read a lecture of Humanitie.

Sil.
How over-joy'd am I?

Dor.
Upon this brest
Which thou despisest so he came to rest.

Sil.
(O my sweet true Melampo.)

Dor.
Setting by
My sighs and kisses.

Sil.
(I will certainly
Kisse thee a thousand times, poor Cur! But hast
Thou got no harm at all, thou ran'st so fast?)

Dor.
Fortunate Dog, that I might change (alas!)
Estates with thee; I'm come to a fine passe
To envie a Dogs life. Bend thou thy gate
Homewards Lupino, I will follow straight.

Lup.
Mistresse, I goe.