University of Virginia Library

Scena quinta.

Amarillis, Corisca.
Am.
Dear happy Groves, and you ye sollitary
And silent horrors where true peace doth tarry,
With how much joy do I review you? And
Had my stars pleas'd to give me the command
Over my self, that I might chuse my lot,
And my own way of life, then would I not
For the Elisian groves, about which range
The happy shades, your happy shades exchange.
“For what we foolish mortals Goods do call
“If rightly understood, are Evils all.
“He that hath most of them, in truth hath least,
“Nor is so much possessor, as possest;
“Not riches, no, but of our freedome snares.
“What boots it in the spring-time of one's yeers
“To have the Attributes of Fair and Good,
“In mortall veins to lock celestiall blood,
“Graces of body and of mind, here fair
“And laughing fields of corn, rich meadows there,
“In fruitfull pasture-grounds more fruitfull flocks,
“If with all these the heart contentment lacks?
Happy that shepherdesse whom some course stuffe
Obscurely cloaths, yet clean and just enough!
Rich onely in her self, and bravely drest
With Nature's ornaments which are the best;
Who in sweet poverty no want doth know,
Nor the distractions which from riches grow:
Yet whatsoever may suffice the mind,
In that estate abundantly doth finde:
Poor, but content! with Nature's gifts retrives
The gifts of Nature, Milk with milk revives,
And with the sweet which from the Bee she gets,
Seasons the honey of her native sweets:
One fountain is her looking glasse, her drink
Her bath; and if she's pleas'd, what others think
It matters not; she heeds not blazing starres
That threaten mighty ones: warres or no warres,
It is all one to her; her battlement
And shield is that she's poor: Poor, but content!
One onely care ('tis a sweet care) doth keep
Her heart awake; she feeds her Masters sheep
With pearled grasse, and with her lovely eyes
Some honest swain, that for her beauty dies:
Not such as men or Gods chuse to her hand,
But such as Love did to her choice commend;
And in some favour'd shady Mirtle grove
Desires, and is desir'd: Nor feels of Love
One spark which unto him she doth not show,
Nor shows one spark with which he doth not glow.
Poor, but content! True life! which till the breath
Forsakes the body, knowst not what is death.
Would Heaven had made me such a one!—But see,
Corisca! Sweet Corisca.

Cor.
Who calls me?
My Amarillis? dearer then mine owne
Eyes, or life to me, whither so alone?

Am.
No farther then thou seest; nor anywhere
Could I be better, since I weet thee here.

Cor.
Thou hast met her that never parts from thee,
Sweet Amarillis; and now, credit me,
Was thinking of thee, saying in my heart,
If I'm her soul, how can she live apart
From me? When straight I saw thee here:—but go,
Thou car'st not for Corisca now.

Am.
Why so?

Cor.
Why? Dost thou ask the question? thou dost wed
To day.

Am.
I wed?

Cor.
Yes: and thou keepst it hid
From me.

Am.
How can I tell thee that which I
Am ignorant my self of?

Cor.
Do, deny,
And wear a mask to me.

Am.
Still jest with me
Corisca.

Cor.
I am jested with by thee.

Am.
But speakst thou this for truth?

Cor.
I'le swear 'tis so,
And knowst thou nothing of't indeed?

Am.
I know
I'm promis'd: but that I should be a wife
So soon, is news to me upon my life.
But from whom knowst it thou?

Cor.
From my own Brother
Ormino: and he sayes, there is no other
Discourse abroad.—Thou seem'st perplext: is this
News to perplex one?

Am.
O Corisca! 'Tis
A hideous gulfe: I've heard my mother say,
W'are then new born.

Cor.
Most true: 'tis our birth day
T'a better life, therefore rejoyce. Dost fetch
A sigh? leave sighing to that wretch.

Am.
What wretch?

Cor.
Mirtillo: who was present casually
At what my brother told mee, and was nigh
Strook dead with grief; and doubtlesse he had dy'd,
If a good cordiall I had not apply'd,
By promising to break this Match. Which though
I said, onely to comfort him, I know
(If need were) how to do't.

Am.
Canst thou tell
How to break this Match?

Cor.
Yes very well.

Am.
I prethee how?

Cor.
With ease, if thou wert but
Consenting likewise, and assisting to't.

Am.
Could I suppose this possible, and thou
Wouldst not reveal it, I would tell thee now
A secret that hath long burnt in my heart.

Cor.
Who, I reveal it? Let the earth first part
And swallow me alive miraculously.

Am.
Know then Corisca, when I think that I
Must all my life be subject to a Boy
That hates and flyes me, and doth take no joy
But in the woods, preferring hunting farre
Before the love of all the Nymphs that are,
It makes me male content, and desperate
Indeed almost, although I dare not say't,
Because my faith I have already given
Unto my Father, and (what's worse) to Heav'n,
And break with them I neither will nor may.
But if thy industry can finde a way
(Alwayes provided, that my Honestie,
My Faith, my Life, and my Religion be
Preserv'd) t'untie this knot that galls me so,
To thee my life and safety I shall owe.

Cor.
If this were it that caus'd thy sighing, thou
Hadst great cause for it Amarillis. How
Oft have I said? What pity 'tis to thtow
So rich a thing to one that scorns it so!
A pearl t'a swine! why speak'st not to thy Father?

Am.
Shame stops my mouth.

Cor.
There's a disease! I'd rather
For my part have a Fistula, or Feaver.
“But 'twill be cur'd; Orecome it once, 'twill never
“Return again.

Am.
That cannot be orecome
“That's naturall: For if I drive it from
“My heart, it flies into my face.

Cor.
Alas,
(My Amarillis) oft it comes to passe,
“She that through too much wisdom holds her tongue,
“Roars out at last like mad, being throughly stung.
Hadst thou before been willing to discover
Thy mind to me, this trouble had been over:
And now thou hast, Corisca's power this day
In all its colours shall it self display.
Into more skilfull hands, more faithfull then
Mine are, thou never couldst have faln. But when
From an ill Husband thou art freed by mee,
Shall not an honest Suitor welcom be?

Am.
Wee'l think of that at leasure.

Cor.
That good youth
Mirtillo must not be forgot in sooth:
For parts, for spotlesse faith, for shape thou knowst
Of all men living hee deserves thee most:
And canst thou let him dye? O cruelty!
Nor wilt so much as hear him say, I dye?
Hear him but once.

Am.
'Twere better he would rest
In peace, and root a love out of his brest
That's vain.

Cor.
That comfort give him ere he dye.

Am.
'Twould rather double his perplexity.

Cor.
If it do so, the seeking is his own.

Am.
And what must I expect, should it be known?

Cor.
How cowardly thou art?

Am.
And let me still
Be cowardly in any thing that's ill.

Cor.
If thou mayst fail me in this small request,
Then may I fail thee likewise in the rest
Most justly, Amarillis. So God bu'y.

Am.
Nay, stay Corisca, hear.

Cor.
Not a word I,
Unlesse thou promise me.

Am.
I promise thee
To hear him speak, provided this may be
For all.

Cor.
It shall.

Am.
And that he may not know
I was acquainted with't.

Cor.
I'le make as though
Ye met by accident.

Am.
And that I may
At my own pleasure freely go away.

Cor.
Thou shalt, when thou hast heard him.

Am.
And that hee
Shall briefly speak.

Cor.
That too is granted thee.

Am.
Nor come within my darts length of me.

Cor.
Fie,
What a stir's here with thy simplicitie!
To make it sure, he shall not doe thee wrong,
I'le tie up all his limbs except his tongue.
Wouldst thou have more?

Am.
'Tis well.

Cor.
And when wilt thou
Do this?

Am.
When ere thou wilt: Do but allow
Me so much time, as to go home to hear
More certain news about this Marriage there.

Cor.
Go; but with caution, and before thou'rt gone,
Hear a contrivance I have thought upon
As thou wert speaking: In the afternoon
I would have thee without thy Nymphs to come
Into this shady walk, where I will be
Before for this occasion, and with me
Nerina, Phillis, Celia, Aglaura,
Eliza, Daphne, Silvia, and Laura;
All my no lesse discreet and witty, then
Faithfull and secret Mates. There thou with them
Shalt play (as thou art wont) at Blind-man-buffe,
So that Mirtillo will with ease enough
Be made believe, that for thy own passe-time
Thou thither cam'st, and not to meet with him.

Am.
I like it wondrous well. But dost thou hear?
I would not any of those Nymphs were there
The while Mirtillo speaks.

Cor.
I doe conceive
'Twas thought upon with good discretion. Leave
The getting them away to my endeavour.
Go: and remember one thing,—to love ever
Thy faithfullest Corisca.

Am.
In her hand
Since I have put my heart, she may command
As much love as she pleases.

Cor.
Is she not stiffe? We must assault this rock
With greater force; though she resist my shock,
Against Mirtillo's she will finde no fence
I'm sure: I know by self-experience
The power of Lovers prayers when they invade
The tender heart of an inclining maid.
If shee do yeeld, I'le make her smart so for't,
That shee shall finde her sport was not in sport.
Through her dark'st words her heart shall be to me
As visible as in a 'natomie.
I'le ransack all her veins: that done, and I
Made Mistresse of her secret, easily
I'le winde her so, and lead her by the nose
To what I'de have, that she shall ne're suppose
(Much lesse shall others) that it was my skill
That drew her to't, but her unbridled will.