 | The Enchanted Lovers |  |
SCENA VI.
MELISSA, MERCATOR, THERSANDER, DIANA, MELINTUS.MELISSA.
Shall you remain sometime yet on our shore?
Mercator.
I stay but for your Passport to depart.
Every year, Madam, by your Highness bounty
My traffick thrives so well, that whatsoever
Commodities I bring unto your Isle,
J carry nothing back, you empty still
My casket: now I'l shew you, if you please,
such rarities, as can be had no where
But in my hands.
MELISSA.
Let's see them.
Mercator.
Here's a Diamond
Darts flame of all sides.
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'Tis a sparkling stone
I like his lustre.
Mercator.
Will you have it, Madam?
MELISSA.
I'l tell you presently, shew all at once,
Then I shall soon chuse: let me see that Coral.
Mercator.
The piece is very fair; till now your Isle
Hath never seen the like.
MELISSA.
And what's that other?
MERCATOR.
A piece of Amber-greece; Madam, 'tis rare
And of great price; I have pass'd divers Seas
To purchase it; alone 'tis worth as much
As all my casket.
Diana.
For my part, J cannot
See any thing that's new here.
MERCATOR.
Shepheardess,
This rope of Pearl is very rich and new,
'T would make you look more fair, more gay, more sparkling.
MELISSA.
Without those Ornaments of Art, she is
Charming enough, she needs no strange additions.
She maketh all our Shepheards die for love:
But for all this, though you are fair without them
I will bestow them on you, if you like them.
What saies Diana.
Diana.
Madam, your great bounties—
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Lay them aside.
MERCATOR.
But, Madam, look upon
This Master-piece of Art, it is the Portrait
In little of the King of Andalousia.
MELISSA.
He's one of the best made that I have seen.
And who is this?
MERCATOR.
It is his favourite
Nearchus sometime Prince of Pichery,
Who by a beauty fatal through her charms,
Gave up his arms, and life unto his Rival,
A gallant Gentleman, his name Cleagenor.
THERSANDER.
the first line softly.
May I believe! good Gods! how he observes me?
But are you certain of Nearchus death?
MERCATOR.
He return'd sorely wounded from the fight,
And died four daies after, as all know.
MELISSA.
His valour seems yet painted in his face.
MERCATOR.
But he that conquer'd him had more by much.
Behold his Portrait.
THERSANDER.
softly
Oh! what sheweth he?
MELISSA.
Is this that valiiant Cleagenor?
MERCATOR.
Yes, 'tis his picture.
THERSANDER.
softly,
O unlucky accident!
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Of all those that J had, this only's left me:
Th'offended King commanded me to carry them
Unto all places where J went, and traffick'd,
That so he might be known, and then arrested;
For after this great Combat, to secure
His head from pursuit, he took flight immediately.
MELISSA.
Thersander, in my judgement, nothing can
Better resemble you, J think your sister
Will say as much.
THERSANDER.
Madam, we see that Nature
Sports sometimes in her works, and makes some feitures
In faces to resemble somewhat neerly.
MELISSA.
This Merchant,, I believe, 's of my opinion.
MERCATOR.
Madam, without doubt, 'tis Cleagenor,
THERSANDER.
The thing is little certain on the faith
And bare ground of a Portrait.
MERCATOR.
Sir, you are
The very same, I am confirmed now
In my first thoughts, all that which hitherto
Hindered me to judge so, was the name of
Thersander, and the habit of a Shepheard.
THERSANDER.
Who! J, Cleagenor?
MERCATOR.
Yes, Sir, J saw you
The last yeer in the fortunate Islands, and
Not above four-moneths since in Portugal;
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Your safety, to what purpose should you cover
Those things with silence?
MELISSA.
Sure, you need not blush,
Thersander, at this fair acknowledgement.
THERSANDER.
I confess, Madam, that J blush a little,
Not that mine arm hath not done all that which
It ought to do in the death of my Rival,
Nearchus was too rash, and insolent;
From the fair and unspotted object which
Made my most chast desires, he in his thoughts
Formed the object of his filthy pleasures;
But he hath paid for't, and his death is just:
Only the thing that troubles and afflicts me,
And for which I am sorry at my heart,
Is thar J told you nothing of my secret.
MELISSA.
J guess the cause of it, and know your thought.
And what fear troubled it, and that you chose
Another name only to free you from
The penalty o'th' Law; but fear not any thing;
I'l oppose power to power for your defence;
Your interests are mine, J'l make your peace;
The King of Andalousia shall be weary
Of persecuting you; if he persist
To trouble your repose, J'l invade his:
If he refuse to grant what we demand,
From our request we will proceed to arms.
THERSANDER.
What obligation have you upon me
For all your goodness?
MELISSA.
But let's make an end
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MERCATOR.
Behold
With admiration, Madam, this rare piece,
It is Diana's Picture.
MELISSA.
How Dianaes?
Diana.
softly.
O sad misfortune!
MERCATOK.
It is the Divinity,
Whose Temple's here, the Goddess of this place.
softly,
Diana.
I cease to tremble, all is well again.
MELISSA.
What Portrait's this?
MERCATOR.
It is a Beauties, Madam,
Whose heavenly graces made two desperate Lovers,
That sight for her, arm for the field, and fight;
It is that fair ones whom I told you of
For whom Cleagenor and Nearchus burn'd,
And who persued hotly by two Rivals,
Cost the one flight, and life unto the other.
After Nearchus death, I bought his Portraits:
This that he had without doubt's to the life.
But who can better then Cleagenor
Instruct you in this point?
MELISSA
, to THERSANDER.
D' ye know this piece?
THERSANDER.
I know not what to say on't.
MELISSA.
I observe
Much of thy sisters air in't.
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O ye Gods!
Turn aside this misfortune.
MELISSA.
Really
The glass, Diana, which receives thy image,
Represents less thy shape and countenance;
And any other but the Painter would
Believe indeed that he finish'd this Portrait
Upon thy presence.
MERCATOR.
There's no doubt of it.
One may admire in this adventure how
Art imitateth nature: It is she
For whom Nearchus sigh'd.
THERSANDER.
softly.
O Gods! where are we?
Our fortunes now are desperate.
Diana.
Know'st thou me?
MERCATOR.
I am of the same Town, and therefore know you;
Your mother is Melora, and she dwells
At Sevil; I shal make her a glad woman
At my return, to tell her that her Celia
Lives yet, and is in health here in this Island.
MELISSA.
How! Celia?
MERCATOR.
Yes, Madam, that is her name,
Diana.
What cloud of errour blindeth thy soul thus?
That Celia whom thou mean'st, and dost discourse of,
Died before Nearchus.
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It was believ'd so
At first; but since, all Sevil knows the contrary,
And that false death is now no more a mystery
Unto me; J know where the mourning went,
And how a Coffin only was interr'd
Instead of you, that this apparent sign
Of your death only could secure you from
Nearchus ill designs; I know besides
That you betook your self unto the Sea,
Where you sight not, but for Cleagenor;
The Sea prov'd false to you, and to your mother,
And separated you one from another
By the assistance of a hideous storm:
She having sav'd her self upon a plank
Sought you from one end of the World to th'other;
But hearing no news of you, she believ'd
At her return to Sevil that the Sea
Had swallowed you, and death had made her search
Unprofitable.
Diana.
Thou knowest secrets which
To me are Riddles.
MERCATOR.
Wherefore should you, Lady,
Dissemble thus your knowledge of a thing
Which is no more conceal'd; one of your people
A complice of the Plot, divulg'd it lately;
Melora too since her return reveal'd
The whole Imposture, all impediment
Being remov'd after Nearchus death:
This that I know, I understood from her.
THERSANDER.
All this thou saiest, is strange news unto us.
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You have the art, I see, well to dissemble;
But by your favour might it not be you
That did imploy a friend unto me lately
To pray me to receive into my bark
Two Shepheards, natives of the Town of Sevil?
THERSANDER.
Madam, this Merchant doth compose Romants.
And tells you all these strange adventures only,
To shew his wit, and faculty that way.
MELISSA.
Yet his discourse is not without some ground,
I find good reason so to judge of it;
If I remember well, you willingly
Did put the interest of Celia
Into your sisters hands, she promised
To make all fair of that side, and to answer
To you for her: Merchant, another time
See us again. How both of you abuse me
With an Imposture form'd under false names
To carry on your love in a disguise!
What in my Palace, in my Court, my presence,
Sport with my person thus in a contempt!
Insolent wretches, you shall feel what force
My anger hath when thus provok'd, I'l make you—
THERSANDER.
Oh, Madam!
MELISSA.
Go, Impostor, thou shalt answer
For all the troubles of my heart; none ever
Affrontd me yet without punishment:
I'l sacrifice you both to my disgrace,
In such a manner, that ye shal repent
Eternally that e'r ye made me blush:
Depart my sight.
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O what misfortune's this!
MELISSA
, to MELINTUS.
See that you separate them one from another
In several apartments, that they may
Hold no discourse together. O misfortune
Not to be parallell'd! What shall I do?
Of whom should I take counsel in this case?
Shall I hear yet my love that murmureth?
Ought I to suffer, or repel the injury?
It is resolv'd in my offended heart
That those black Passions shal succeed my love,
By which the soul when in disorder, bteaks
The chain wherewith she's ti'd, break forth my fury,
And ruine these ingratefull they shal know
My power, as they have seen my goodness to thē:
They shall not mock at my simplicity,
Nor reproach me for my credulity:
How! treacherous Thersander; oh! that name
Thersander combats yet within my heart,
In its defence, my spirits at this name
Are wavering, and my anger's weak, my hate
Is in suspense; I am not pleas'd with that
Which I demand; I fear what J would most.
Ha traitor, must J to torment my self
Suspend my judgement upon thy destruction?
Must J dispute the case within my self
As doubtfull to determine, no pass sentence
Against him for this barbarous affront:
Arm my despair, and inspire thou my rage:
And let me see how faithfully my Art
Will serve my vengeance in the punishment
Of these ingratefull Lovers, I intend not
To give a sudden death to either of them,
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By the effect, and strange force of my charms,
They shall have, without dying, every day
A thousand deaths; I will continually
By turns afflict the sad eyes of the Lover,
And of his Mistress: both of them shal see,
That they may suffer equally, each other
To die and to revive, this punishment
Is strange and cruell; but 'tis that I use
In my revenges; come, why loiter we
In our design? my heart like flint shall be
Insensible of their calamity.
| The Enchanted Lovers | |