University of Virginia Library

SCENA IV.

THERSANDER, DIANA, MELISSA, ISMENIA, PARTHENIA, CLIDAMANT, THIMANTES.
Thersander
by Dianas body.
O lamentable object! why mine eyes
Were ye not cover'd with eternal darkness,
That J might not have seen this fatal spectacle?
Oh! what cause have I to complain of fortune,
That my sleep is not the last sleep of death?
In the night of the Grave I should take rest,
And not be ty'd to die thus all my life,
I should be there but dust, and this sad sight
Should not have martyred my heart and eyes.
Yes, my dear Mistress, sometime my delight,
Thy sight is now my greatest punishment,
And in this sad estate wherein I see thee,
Thou which wert once my joy, art now my grief;
Thy body's but a trunk that gives me horror,
Thy head all over's smoaking with thy blood,
The graces lodge no more there, I see death
In every place, where I saw love before:
How! dost thou live no more then? have I lost thee
As soon as found thee? hopes born and destroy'd
With an immortal love, fantosme of fortune
Which lasts good but a day, wealth too soon lost,
Brightness too soon put out, excessive joy,
To which so many plaints so soon succeed,
Why in that splendor wherewith all you flatter'd,
My flame, did you promise so much unto me,
And give so little. Fair eyes, sometimes conquerous,
Whose lights are shut up in eternal night
In spight of all my prayers, call me not
From death unto the light; is't possible
That I can see here what Diana sees not?
No, no, I live no more since she is dead;
Yet my heart moves; but this last strugling is
But a small spark that's left behind, and shines
A little after death; 'tis but a vapour,
An exaltation, a wind, a smoak,
Last dying and last kindled; I am coming
To join with thee, object of my desire,
To give thee soul for soul, and sigh for sigh;
Death is my aid, my hope is but in her;
I will express that I am faithful to thee
In that, not able to survive thy fate,
I put my self into the arms of death.

CLIDAMANT.
Madam, you see how great his torment is,
And whereunto your hatred hath reduc'd him;
You see besides how far without proportion
Of the crime to the punishment, the power
Of your inchantment goes; these woods weep at it;
And these rocks which before heard no complaints,
Are pierc'd now with his cryes, and become soft,
And sensible, the Eccho likewise mourns,
And should you onely, Madam, be without
Compassion for him.

MELISSA.
Yes, without compassion;
Since he took pleasure alwaies to displease me,
I'le please my self by a most just return
In my revenge, and never cease t' afflict him:
No, think not that J will incline to pitty.
I'm too much injur'd to be pacifi'd:
His sorrow makes my joy, and I am glad
To see that by this famous punishment
I shall establish my authority.

THIMANTES.
Diana's turn is now; sees he revives
To weep her lover, and immediately
To follow him by the force of your Art:
Sad spectacle? hearken unto her grief,
And ope your eyes, and heart to her complaints,

Diana upon Thersanders body.
Diana.
What, my dear Lover, art thou then but dust?
Alas! thy mouth wants speech, and thine eyes light.
But inspight of the plot which makes me sigh,
I have the happiness yet to lament thee:
Flow, flow, my tears, and pour upon this object
Torrents of flame, not water, there is nothing
So cold in the dark bosom of the Grave,
Which the fire of these Rivers cannot warm:
Yes, by my tears at last, my cryes, my plaints,
Dear ashes, I will kindle you again,
Though cold now and extinguish'd like the Phenix
I'le raise you up again by force of sights,
Which you shall Eccho to me.

THIMANTES.
Madam can you
Behold this sight, and not be moved at it?

Diana.
Love, canst thou not answer to my desires?
Thou art a miracle thy self, and therefore,
Methinks, should'st do one: art thou in the world
No more a source of life? oh canst thou not
Restore my lover to me, from whose armes
They 'ave ravish'd him; which of the Gods can call him
Back from the gates of death, if thou canst not?
My dear Cleagenor, J pray thee, answer me
By these my tender sighs, by Celia's name;
How's this! I can pronounce thy name, and mine
And yet, O Gods! thou answerest me nothing;
I see, alas! thy mouth and eyes still shut:
He's dead, and these names cannot touch him now.
Love, since thou hast no power to succour me
In that point as to make him live, at least
Make me to dye: I come, my faithful lover,
It is impossible I should survive thee;
I feel that my despair t'enjoy thee here
Gives me to death; my heart hath lost the spirits
Which made it move, J scarce can utter more:
Happy thy Celia, if her death could give
Thee life again, if thy sleep might have end
By mine, and if I could with all my blood
Redeem thine; J have done, my love is coming
To meet thy flame, and I expire upon thee
The rest of my sad soul.

CLIDAMANT.
What! is your heart
Not touch'd yet with this object? are you still
Jnsensible of so much grief as she
Suffers by your means? oh! let pitty yet
Disarm your anger, the Inchanted Lovers
Have suffered enough Nymph, break the charm.

MELISSA.
Yes, I am touch'd at last, J must confess,
And really am sorry for the evil
Which they have drawn through their temerity
Upon themselves; but though their grief appeaseth
My anger now, the charm which I have made
J can't undo; to tell you truly, Shepheards,
It is so strong that onely a Divinity
Can break the chance on't; tis decree'd by fate
That it shall last yet longer, and J cannot
Prevent it, though it be my proper work.

THIMANTES.
How! cannot you prevent it? heavenly Gods,
What saying's this? no, no, you have not left
Your anger, but retain it still; and willing
To punish them, and to revenge your wrong,
Will make of them a lasting spectacle
Unto the eyes of all; and to excuse
Your self the better of this cruelty,
Would put it off to some Divinity;
But the Gods by our prayers and tears appeas'd,
Jnspight of your attempts, wil stop your charms:
Yes, Madam, the great Gods condemn your plots,
They are the Soveraigns, and absolute Masters
Of destiny, we hope all things from them,
And that they'l suffer crime no longer here
To raign and tyranize. Thou Goddess, which
Art in this place ador'd which holdest fate,
And fortune in thy hands, which hatest crime,
and whose cares keep the Shepheards that serve thee
In this delightful Island, look upon
The sad estate whereto love hath reduc'd
Two miserable Lovers, whom the Nymph
Pursues with horrid cruelty to death
By fatal charmes, destroy the power of them,
And render to this government again
The liberty to love, and to declare it.

Thunder and lightning.
PARTHENIA.
Ha! what a sudden flash of lightning's this,
That strikes mine eyes, and what a clap of thunder
Shakes all this place?

ISMENIA.
With what a thick black cloud
The Skie is cover'd?

MELISSA.
I believe Heaven trembles,
And its Arch openeth; behold the Goddess
Descends, and maketh sign, as if she'd speak:
We must give audience.