 | Love's Labyrinth |  |
Scæn. 5.
Enter Menaphon, with Samela, and Pesana after them, Melecertus leading Doron.Pes.
Hey day, what's here, my brother Doron?
Mel.
Doron conceits himself that he is blind.
Dor.
Ay, Doron's as blind as any door: what
Creep I here upon? Carmila, oh Carmila,
The very sight of thee hath recovered mine
Eyes again.
He stumbles on Samela in Carmila's cloaths.
Men.
Nay, now I see, Doron, th'art blind indeed,
That dost not know Carmila from her cloaths.
No, no, 'tis Samela, not Carmila.
Dor.
Which is my Carmila? good Melecertus.
Shew me where she is.
Mel.
It seems, Doron, Carmila is not here.
Dor.
Why, what do I do here then? I thought
It was something I miss'd, onely I
39
Been my eyes were lost, but now I
See it is my Carmila is missing, whom
I had rather see than my own eyes.
Pes.
This is my corrival in Menaphon's love.
Mel.
She is a beautie indeed; and since my
Sephestia is drown'd, without compare.
I cannot blame Menaphon, but envie
Him rather, for his so happy choise.
O happy! yet to me unhappy beautie!
That doth (as in a glass) present unto
My frighted senses the remembrance of
My loss, which, unless by this fair piece,
Cannot be recompenced by the world.—
Mistris, y'are welcome to our company.
Dor.
By my troth, Mistris, you are very welcome,
As I may say, unto our meeting.
Sam.
Thanks shepherds: I am a bold intruder
Into your company; but that I am
Brought by your friend, and my host Menaphon.
Mel.
Mistris, your presence is Apologie
Sufficient; yet do we owe him thanks,
That by his means we have the happiness
T'enjoy your sweet societie in this
Our rural meeting, when shepherds use
To cheer themselves with mirth & pleasant tales.
Sam.
I hope my company shall not forbid
The Banes between your meeting & your mirth.
Mel.
Then by your leave, fair shepherdess, I will
Begin with you. If the gods should decree
To change your form, what shape would you desire?
Sam.
I would be careful how to sail between
The two rocks, of immodest boldness, or
40
Unto your question, I would be a sheep.
Men.
A sheep? Mistris, why would you be a sheep?
Sam.
Because that then my life should harmless be,
My food the pleasant Plains of Arcadie,
My drink the curious streams, my walks
Spacious, and my thoughts as free as innocent.
Dor.
I would I were your Keeper.
Mel.
But many times the fairest sheep are drawn
Soonest unto the shambles to be kill'd.
Sam.
And sure a sheep would not repine at that,
To feed them then, who fed her long before.
Pes.
Then there's more love in beasts, than constancie
In men, for they will die for love, but when?
When they can live no longer, not before.
Men.
If they'r so wise, it is their mother-wit,
For men have their inconstancies but from
You women, as the sea it's ebbs and tides
Hath from the moon.—Your embleme to an hair.
Dor.
Menaphon, if you hate my sister, I'll—
Love yours for't in spight of your teeth.
Pes.
Your mother surely was a weather-cock,
That brought forth such a changeling; for your love
Is like the lightning, vanished as soon
As it appears; a minute is an age
In your affections. You once loved me.—
Dor.
Ay, I would you lov'd him no better.
Men.
If that I be so changing in my love,
It is because mine eye's so weak a Judge,
It cannot please my heart upon trial.
Pes.
If that your eye's so weak, then let your eares
Be open to your loves appeals and plaints,
Sam.
Come, for to end this strife, pray let us hear
41
As if h'had lost his tongue too, with his eyes.
Dor.
By my fay, fair Mistris, I was thinking
All this while with my self, whether in being
A sheep, you would be a ram, or an ewe?
Sam.
An ewe, no doubt; if I should change my shape,
I would not change my Sex; and horns are held
The heaviest burthen that the head can bear.
Dor.
I think then I were best be an ewe too,
So I might be sure to have no horns:
But I would not greatly care to wear horns,
Were I a ram, were it but where you were
An ewe.—
Men.
VVell, shepherds, come, the day declines, and gives
Us timely warning for to fold our flocks.
Exeunt.
| Love's Labyrinth | |