University of Virginia Library

Scæn. 3.

Enter Sephestia shipwrack't, with her Uncle Lamedon.
Seph.
Ah cruel fortune, but more cruel father,
Most wretched I, who thus am rob'd of all
My pregnant hopes, my springing joyes blasted
With winter frowns. Jove send a flaming dart
Into my breast, to melt my frozen heart
Into a flood of tears, that I may drown
My self in them since that the waves have prov'd
Unkindly courteous to preserve my life,
But to prolong my miserie, and he
Is drownd who was my lifes preserver.
Ah ye enraged deities! could ye
Be so unkind to draw my life's thred out
Thus long, to survive him who was my life?
Why did ye not, or save his life with mine,
Or destroy mine with his, that so I might
Enjoy his companie in life or death?

Lam.
Ay, in the gods time, Neece, but not before.

Seph.
And oh! my dearest Plusidippus! could
The waves be so hard-hearted, as to crop
Thy blooming youth, to send thee to thy grave
Before thou wert a man? Had they but left
Me thee, it would have eas'd thy fathers loss,
If I had had his transcript to have view'd
In thee, who wert his perfect Image. Now
In stead of heir to the Cyprus crown,
The cypress grove shall be Joynter, where
I'll sadly spend the remnant of my life,
To weep my losses, and my own sad fate,
Which thus I will revenge; my Maximus
Shall live still fresh within my memorie,
There fixt too sure for all the briny waves
To wash away. Nor shall I e're forget
My son, my Plusidippus. I could feed,
My self unto eternitie with these
Sweet names, which do as far out-vie
The Nectar and Ambrosia of the gods,
As pearls do pebbles. I can hold no more,
My heart's so full, 'twill break, or over-run
The sluces of mine eyes.—I'll weep the rest.

Lam.
Why dost thou thus torment thy self in vain?
Thy tears wil not recover them again.
Fates dart is shot, and cannot be recall'd,
Nor is there any salve for fortunes wounds,
But patience; therefore seeing me
Partaker of thy sorrows, now lean all
Thy cares on me, it is some relief,
In sorrow to have fellows of our grief.

Soph.
My husband and my son are gone, and I
Survive alone unto their miserie.

Lam.
Chance is like Janus, double-fac'd; sometimes
With smiles she comforts us, sometimes
With frowns she casts us down again: A calm
Succeeds a storm, and a sharp winter doth
Precede a pleasant spring.

Seph.
Oft turnings tire
The weary traveller; and love doth lose
His followers, in a wild Labyrinth
Of woes. How am I faln from all my hopes!
(An exile in my native Country:) and
The crown hope seem'd to place upon my head:
Banished from the pleasures of the Court,
Parted for love from him I could not chuse
But love, from Maximus, who hath for me
Suffer'd as many mischiefs as malice
Could invent, and now all sum'd up in death.

Lam.
What of all this? after the storm that rent
Our ship, we found a calm that brought us safe
To th'shore, whilst Neptunes mercie was beyond
The envious blasts of Æolus; and thus
The gods do recompense us with their favour,
For the dis-courtesies of your father.

Seph.
Sweet Lamedon, once partner of my joyes,
Though now partaker of my wants; I see
You are as constant in my sad distress,
As you were faithful in my richer fortunes:
Though friends seldom prove friends in poverty
Misfortune hath not chang'd your mind, but your
Temper my exile with your banishment:
Your aged years shall be my sole directors,
Your will the ruler of my actions.
If you perswade me to content, Portia
Shall not exceed Sephestia's patience:
If you will have me strike my sails, I will,
And steer my course by th'compass of your care.

Lam.
Since hope is all the portion we have left,
Let's thank the gods that sav'd our lives, and rest
Our cares on them, they can return us more
Than we have lost, or fit our minds to bear
Our present state. Contentment gives a crown,
Where fortune hath denied it: patience
Makes all things easie to an humble mind.
Cares are companions of the Crown, the Court
Is full of busie thoughts, and envious strife,
Whilst peaceful sleeps attend a Countrey life.

Seph.
Then Lamedon will I disguise my self,
And with my cloaths will change my former thoughts,
Measure my actions by my present state,
Not by my former fortunes, Sephestia
No more: Alas! I know not where, or how
VVe shall bestow our selves: Surely this is
Some un-frequented place, no harmless sheep
Do feed, nor shepherds tend their thriving flocks.

Enter to them Menaphon