University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Polydor, with Bellinda veyl'd, &c. to them.
Pol.
Room, room before there.

Eup.
She comes, she comes; now to declare
A Resolution great as its causes are,
Dar'st thou Philander, when her death we see,
Resolve to die with me?

Philan.
For my resolve Euphanes, never fear,
I wll not say to die with you, but her.

Philos.
Now unveil her, whilst thus it is with pain,
with his Wand he uncharms her.
O open the port of speech,
Shortly by deaths hand to be clos'd up again.

Bel.
Ha! what means this deadly Tragick spectacle,
This Funeral Livery, & those bloody Ensigns of cruel
And abhorred death! is there any thing can be
In Philanders presence able to frighten me?—

Eup.
How's this?

Bel.
She runs & embraces him, and he looks strangely on her.
Ha! he unkindly reject me,
Nay then away with all
These deadly preparations,
The shadows of death it self,
The Axe and th'Executioner too,
For one unkind look of Philander's
Can kill me sooner than all the rest can do.

Philos.
Thy Falshood Nymph makes him behold thee so,
Occasioning all this affliction and woe,
To swear thou lov'dst one here, betroth'd before
Unto another.

Bel.
And what else should I swear,
embraces him agen.
Beholding my betroth'd Philander here?
When passing along to take the sacred Oath
And hearing of his voice amid'st the Throng
I glanc'd mine eyes aside,
And instantly espi'd
My dear Philander, For Lovers are quick sighted,
Though Love be blind.

Pol.
Error of Humane minds
How were we all deceiv'd then.

Philos.
[all shout for joy]
Strange, but so 'tis in Religious minds,
Still in high contemplation
Error of humane things is often found,
As those who most do contemplate the Stars
Do soonest fall to ground.

Phila.
But that I of all men shou'd be so deceiv'd!
Knowing my Bellinda so well, is an Error I
Shall ne'r pardon in my self, nor do I know
Deerest whe'r thou can'st ever pardon or no.

Bel.
Well, well.

Pol.
See how she sweetly nods, and smiling
Out th'rest do's seem to say,
Well, well Philander, I'll be jealous another day.

Philos.
Away with these dolefull preparations then,
And resume your former joyfull ones agen.

Pam.
Enter Pamphilus crying
Ugh, ugh, ugh,
I have lost the best Wife, the best wife,
As ever poor Husband had—But soft what this?
Alive agen! and in anothers Arms!
How comes this about? this is fine geer I faith.

Fla.
Why thou perpetual Doult,
Thou unconscionable Asse Thou; mak'st People
Kill themselves with laughing at thee, If she'ave
Ever been
Philander's, both before she arrived here,
And since, and now, when should she be thy Wife
I prethee?

Pam.
Why even when she pleases,
I am ready for my part.

Fla.
I dare swear thou art for any one.

Pol.
See how hand in hand,
These happy Lovers stand,
So lost in joy for their escape from death,
As yet they do not know,
Whether they live, or no.
Mean time you may perceive
By their ey-beams twisted, their fixt regards,
Their unmovable posture, and their minds surprize,
Ther's nothing glews so fast as Lovers eyes.

Philost.
O happy pair!
Now safely to your Port arrived are;
Happy whose former suff'rance and annoy,
Does now but heighten more your present joy;
Happy, who after y'ave so long
On Fortunes rough tempestuous Seas been tost,
May truly say, y'ad been lost indeed,
Unless you had been lost.

Bel.
Oh my dearest, and don't my eyes deceive me?

she tenderly reclines her head upon his Arm.
Phil.
My dearest, dearest heart,
Come, come, let's go, and take from Love,
And Fortune both, the power they had before,
Of making us ever miserable more;
For yet some farther proof there needs, and some
More true and real joy, to let us know,
Whe'r that w'enjoy be real, true, or no.

Philost.

Chorus
sings.
All the joyes that unto heart,
Heav'n & Earth did e'r impart,
All the pleasures that the Spring,
Or Love, to Youth did ever bring,
All contentments too, that e'r
Yet in any's bosom were,
With a Ravishment to boot,
At all parts answerable too't;
May blest Hymen all, and more
In these Lovers bosoms store,
Till satiat with it, they may cry,
To pitious heaven, 't wou'd let 'um die,
And to a better life translate 'um,
Where joys, pleasures, contents ne'er satiate 'um.

Exeunt.
Manent Philena, Flamette, Euphanes.
Fla.
And won't you go along?

Phile.
No Flamette, to a heart
And pallat so sad and so out of tast as mine,
No Musick, no Feast can relish, and the sight
Of others wealth and happiness, wou'd but make me
More sensible of mine own poverty and misery;
Let them abound with happiness then, and surfet with
Deliciousness, I envy not their fortunes,
But pity and lament my own.

Fla.
Excellent sweetness! Heaven's my witness I
Heartily pitty her.

Phi.
But see where Euphanes stands, turn'd musing Statua,
Who knows but now may be the fittest time
To move my Sute again? to love beyond
The possibility or enjoying, is Hope
Too far stretcht beyond the end of Love;
I'll try then, now Bellinda's love
Is probably extinct in him, whether Philena's yet
Have any flame to enkindle it again,—
Euphanes—

Eup.
Hence troublesom and importune,—
Out of how profound a slumber, and sweet
Reverie has she awak'd me, whilst I imagined
With gratefull Error, Philander's happiness
Might possibly have been mine own, had Love
And Fortune pleas'd,—the more fool I the whilst,
Who with these fancy'd joyes, and imaginary wealth,
But feed my Thoughts, whilst I am starv'd my self.

Phile.
Cruel and pittyless! Is this then all the thanks,
And reward I have, for preferring thy Loves
Int'rest to my own? and betraying mine own
Love, in pleading for thee to Bellinda
Against my self?

Eup.
And what's the effect of it?

Phile.
Th'ingratefull only judge by the Event,
The Gratefull by the Act and the Intent;
Thy face belies thy heart, for that is gentle,
And full of Love; but with my heart now what
Shall I do, since thou, whose 'tis, reject'st it?
Wou'd I cou'd gratifie thee with it any wayes,
Though I tore it out of my bosom.

Eup.
Prithee
If thou't gratifie me, let me never see thee more.

Exit abruptly.
Phil.
And so perhaps (cruel as thou art,)
Thou never shall't;
My mind condenses with multitude of thoughts
I feel transporting me to somwhat high and brave—
Let's see;—but for that which we approve our selves,
And cann't b' approv'd by others until 't be done,
There needs but small deliberation.—
Flamette, a word with thee.

Exeunt.