University of Virginia Library

Scene the first.

Enter Corisca.
Corisc.
“This day has Heav'n and Earth, Nature & Art,
“Fortune and Fate, Friend and Foe ta'ne my part.
“How much more happily (to make her sin
“Look more like Truth) Fate brought Mirtillo in,
“Then I contriv'd to have brought Coridon?
And how as luckily was that great stone
Roul'd by Sylvano o're the mouth o'th' Cave?
Who cou'd expect such Service from that Slave?

Enter Sylvano.
Sylv.
Corisca here! thou damn'd perfidious Cheat;
I thought by this I had cur'd your amorous heat.
How comes it, Devil, that I find thee here?

Corisc.
To find me here, where lyes the wonder? where,
Did you expect me?

Sylv.
To have found thee Fool'd,
Snar'd and betray'd, thy wanton courage cool'd;
Led to a Temple, there t'have undergone
That punishment my Vengeance had pull'd down,
And thy loud Crimes deserv'd: I thought I shou'd
Have seen
Shame written in thy Fore-head, and thy Blood.

Corisc.
Audacious Slave!

Sylv.
Was not that Stone enough
To hold ye? are not Rocks and Marble proof
Against the Assaults of Lust? How got ye off?
Speak Sorceress!

Corisc.
What does the Traytor mean?

Sylv.
How got you out o'th' Cave, that dear dark Scene
Of Villany, t'escape the Minister
Of Justice, which I sent to seize you there?
Have you broke Prisons, or subverted Laws,
Or baffled Justice; made your impious cause
Like those fair looks which your false colours paint;
Acted a Devil and appear'd a Saint?
Which of 'em was't? or was it all? say, how?
All this bewitching Womans power can do.

Corisc.
I scorn thy Imputations savage Slave.
'Twas Amaryllis that was found i'th'Cave.
And with Mirtillo caught, th'Adultress dyes.
Can thy black soul, with all its Treacheries,
Father on guiltless me thy barb'rous Lyes.

Sylv.
Did he not name your Name in entring in,
And say you had told him true—Oh I begin
To find the Cheat; some trick to take her head.
Nothing that's truth can from thy tongue proceed.
I'le to the Priest, and clear her of the guilt.
No blood but thine shall by my rage be spilt.
I'le swear thy Treasons, and her death prevent;
And false, or true, I'le prove her Innocent.

[offers to go.
Corisc.
Sylvano stay, and hear me e're you go.
God's! for a little of the Woman now.
(aside...)
This Villain, if his flight I do not stay,
Will ruine all my Love, and all my Plots betray. (...aside.)

You've often said you Lov'd Corisca.

Sylv.
True.

Corisc.
And she has often said that she lov'd you.

Sylv.
And I, Fool as I was, believ'd you too.

Corisc.
Why was that Faith a Crime? how can you still
See by false lights, and read my thoughts so ill?
How oft my seeming falsehood you've pursu'd,
Even to my death, and sought my guiltless blood?
Nay, when your Jealousie so high could swell;
And your blind fears, you thought, discern'd so well,
You see kind Heav'n your Errour does prevent,
And, cruel Man, you find me Innocent.

Sylv.
Because I once have had a false distrust,
Therefore my Jealousie must ne're be just.

Corisc.
Well, if I am still that Monster you suppose,
However, sure some signe of Love it shews;
When I can tamely hear you treat me thus,
And yet forgive a style so infamous.

Sylv.
Oh Syren, canst thou Love? how many Rogues,
And Villains, odious Slaves, and hated Dogs,
Have I been call'd; and treated like 'em too?
Do, call this Love, yes perjur'd Woman, do.

Corisc.
To those harsh words, I was by passion driven:
Things done in storms, should be in calmes forgiven.
Besides, I have been treated too as ill;
And yet through all your Rage, you Lov'd me still.

Sylv.
And you deserv'd it; you can't less than prove
A Miracle of Faith, of Truth and Love:
You've such a wondrous stock: ask Corydon,
Philander, Strephon, Niso, Clitophon,
Philisides, Geron, Thyrsis, Doreo.
By all those Legions of your Loves you're true.

Corisc.
How can your fears such wild Chimæra's frame?
Can you my harmless Conversation blame?

Sylv.
How harmlesly you their kind Visits paid,
Witness the Assignations you have made,
The Presents you receiv'd, the cursed Gold,
For which your Vows were broke, and Honour sold.

Corisc.
Can you object the Gifts and Treats they made,
And think those Tributes were with Love repaid?
Our Companies requite the Treats we take,
And our Acceptance pays the Gifts they make.
I kept 'em Company—was it ill done
To hear all Loves, when I receiv'd but one?

Sylv.
Oh Cunning!

Corisc.
She bestows a worthless heart,
Whose feeble Eyes, had never but one Dart.
'Tis a dull prize that's never sought but once;
But thus their weak pretences I renounce?
I'm all Sylvano's sacred and entire.

Sylv.
Magick and Witchcraft, I shall take new fire.

Corisc.
Alas, I made you Jealous on design,
T'assure your Love before I made you mine.
Since Marriage is a Bond that tyes till death,
Could I have too much tryal of your Faith?

Sylv.
Death and the Devil! I am snar'd agen.
The tame and silly loving Fool's got in.

Corisc.
Men best express how Treasures they esteem
By the concern they shew in losing 'em.
Your rage and storms to think me perjur'd, prove
The violence and ardence of your Love.
And to requite the tedious pains you've borns.
Accept in blushes this last just return.
Gives him her hand.
To morrow at the Altar seal my heart.

Sylv.
Thou wilt be true, thou must—by Heav'ns thou art.

[Kisses her hand.
Corisc.
In all my Charms there my Dear Love I'le meet,
And lay my soul at kind Sylvano's feet.
But one thing I forget;
Do not defend that naughty Womans cause,
Let the lewd shameful Wretch suffer the Laws.
They have met there before, a hundred times.
But let her dye vile Creature for her Crimes.
I hate that odious sin so much; may all
That practice it, as much unpittyed fall.

Sylv.
Forgive me, if I take my self away:
To morrows Bliss permits me not to stay.
I must prepare for our dear Nuptial day.
And the bright Sun when he salutes the skie,
No Persian shall adore so much as I:
But see I find you true.

Corisc.
Can you suspect me now?
By my Religion and my Life I'm true.

Sylv.
Pray Heaven this pious resolution last,
For to your Sex that Grace comes not in hast.

Corisc.
Why this mistrust?

Sylv.
You know you never told me truth before.

Corisc.
Now you're unkind.

Sylv.
Well I'le suspect no more.
I will believe you just; and live in hope
Falsehood in Woman, is a stream may stop.
Grant ye great Gods (that one kind wonder do)
Once in a life a Woman may speak true.

Exit.
Corisc.
Poor credulous Fool—What dangers did I shun?
Had I not us'd this Cheat, I had been undone.
Had the bold Slave appear'd in her defence,
He had crusht my Plots, and prov'd her Innocence.
But now thanks to my Wit,
His preparations for his faithful Bride,
No doubt has found him work enough beside.
Proud Rival, nothing now thy Fate shall stay:
The gaudy Sacrifice must bleed to day.

Exit.