 | The Extravagant Sheepherd |  |
Scene IV.
Enter to them Lucid. and Lysis like a Sheepherdesse.Char.
A very comely person!
Angel.
Fie laugh no more, in faith you'l spoile the Scene:
All contain your selves.
Lucid.
Fair Nymph to whom the Gods
(To Angel.)
The most mysterious Secrets doe impart;
In this unhappy Maid you see the Signes
Of griefs, which they have destin'd you to heale.
Thus faith great Hircan, and I took the care,
(Following his order) to conduct her hither.
Ang.
She is most welcom from so great a Druyde.
(embracing Lysis.)
Ly.
You much oblige a distress'd Sheepherdess,
(imitating the voice and gesture of a maid.)
Who will conclude her cruel fate most mild,
If she may have that blessing to be with you;
And that is all she begs.
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Grant her desire;
To live among us Nymph she is prepar'd,
If you love our content refuse her not,
Most taking person!
Angel.
She has excellent features.
Char.
What you say nothing?
(To Clarimond.)
Clar.
I know what I think:
My debt to you impos'd this silence on me.
Char.
No, Philiris may e'en do what he please,
And yet he must be just to this rare beauty,
That excellently faire, deserves his homage,
See what quick beams are scatter'd from her face,
What eyes more faire ere captivated hearts?
Lys.
Faire Sheepherdesse, pray spare my modesty,
Youle else soone raise Vermilion on my cheeks.
Angel.
So faire and perfect, all must needs commend you.
Lys.
Far short of meriting such Eulogies.
(Pointing at Char.)
I'm but a Star compar'd to that bright Sun.
Lucid.
Perhaps you would boast more of your perfections,
Did you spend fewer teares in their possession.
Angel.
And what sad object can provoke her teares?
Ly.
To understand it Nymph, hear my misfortunes.
If the injurious Starre that rul'd my birth,
Had alwaies had for me kind influence,
I had appear'd here in as high condition,
As splendour of illustrious bloud allowes.
For I was born a Dam'sel (thanks to Heaven)
As you now see me reasonably faire,
And such, that truly from my youngest yeares,
I won the hearts of many thousand servants.
(Sad memory, which onely serves t'afflict me!)
I was styl'd every where faire Celimena,
And by that famous name did sweetly ravish,
Eclipsing many beauties that then shin'd;
But cruel Atropos killing my Father, I
Was soon constrain'd to be a Sheepherdesse:
I needs must yeild to force, and then assum'd
To please my Tyrants, the name of Amarillis,
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Pardon my sighs that intercept my voice.
I can no farther go.—
Char.
A pretty story.
Lucid.
She and my Brother have agreed to this.
(to Charit.)
Ly.
But—this my forme, to me alone unhappy,
Unchang'd beheld the sad change of my fortune,
So far from leaving me in this new habit,
That tis fame filled all our villages,
All prais'd to envy, the new Sheepherdess:
Ev'ry one strove to see me, and to please me.
Happy till now—but oh—this high report
Invited three foule Satyrs from the Woods,
The infamies of whose lascivious loves
Were eccho'd every day through all our streames,
And these, to violate my chastity,
Dogg'd me in every place to ravish me;
And as last night I to the Fountain went,
Without the Sheepherd Filene, in their snares
They caught me—This hath cast me at your feet,
These foule Goat-footed Fiends, the Nymphs obey:
Purge then from that base race ore sacred Groves;
Their whole employment is dishonourable.
All that they do's injurious and immodest.
Preserve the fame of my Virginity:
Once, twice, and thrice on this I do depend:
Purge me from Satyrs, and I shall be spotless.
Angel.
Your fate is cruell—but yet cease to grieve,
You here have met with a safe Sanctuary:
The highest insolence, within this palace
Dares not attempt your Chastitie; live here,
From trouble free, Charita shall take care
Of those diversions are needfull for you,
Will you accept of her good companie?
Ly.
Her affability speaks so high for her,
That instead of refusing I will strive
To follow her, as shadowes do their bodies,
And night and day, if I'm so blest, to please her.
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D'ye doubt it, faire and vertuous Sheepherdess?
How all my senses are transported! thus
To be possest of Amaryllis heart!
This glorious Modell of supremest Beauty!
This Starre!—
Ly.
Reserve these titles for your self;
If any thing in me seems radiant here,
'Tis by reflection of your eyes, faire Sun!
Clar.
If you talk more, by these your kindnesses,
(to Lysis.)
You'l robb me of my Mistris heart, I feare:
Come 'tis enough.
Char.
Indeed you may be jealous,
Having gain'd Amaryllis I scorn you.
Clar.
By this you may oblige me to change too.
Char.
T'enjoy an Angel, I shall lose a Mortall.
Clar.
Is then my service of so little value?
Angel.
Let us end this discourse. Here's Polidore.
| The Extravagant Sheepherd | |