University of Virginia Library

ACTA 5. SCE. 5.

Montan. Carino, Dametas.
[Montan.]
Bvt thanke thou heauens thou aged impudent,
Thou art his father? if thou wert not: well,
(I sweare by this same sacred habite on my head I weare)
Thou shouldst soone taste how ill I brooke thy boldnes.
Why, knowst thou who I am? knowst thou that with
This Rodd I rule affayres both humaine and diuine?

Car.
I cry you mercie holy sacred Priest.

Mon.
I suffered thee so long, till thou grow'st insolent.
Knowest thou not Rage that Iustice shineth vp,
The longer t'is delayde, the greater tis?

Car.
Tempestius furie neuer waigned rage,
In brestes magnanimus, but that one blast
Of Generous effect could coole the same:
But if I can not grace obtaine, let mee
Finde iustice yet, you can not that denie,
Law makers be not freed from the Lawes:
I aske you iustice, iustice graunt me then,
You are vniust, if you Mirtillo kill.

Mon.
Let me then know how I can be vniust?

Car.
Did you not tell me it vnlawfull was
To sacrifize a Strangers blood?

Mon.
I told you so,
And told you that which heauens did commaund.

Car.
He is a Stranger you would sacrifize.

Mon.
A Stranger, how? is he not then thy sonne?

Car.
Let it suffize, and seeke no further now.

Mon.
Perhappes because you not begot him heere.

Car.
Oft he least knowes, that most would vnderstand.

Mon.
Heere we the kindred meane, and not the place.

Car.
I call him Stranger, for I got him not.

Mon.
Is he thy sonne, and thou begots him not?

Car.
He is my sonne, though I begot him not.

Mon.
Didst thou not say that he was borne of thee?

Car.
I sayd he was my sonne, not borne of mee.

Mon
Extremitie of griefe hath made thee madd.

Car.
If I were madd, I should not feele my griefe.

Mon.
Thou art ore-madd, or els a lying man.

Car.
A lying man will neuer tell the trueth.

Mon.
How can it be sonne, and not sonne at once?

Car.
The sonne of loue, and not of nature hee's.

Mon.
Is he thy sonne? he is no Stranger then:
If not, thou hast no part at all in him:
Father or not, thus thou conuinced art.

Car.
With wordes and not with trueth, I am conuin'st.

Mon.
His fayth is doubted that his wordes contraries.

Car
Yet do I say thou dost a deed vniust.

Mon.
On this my head, and on my Siluioes head,
Let my injustice fall.

Car.
You will repent it.

Mon.
You shall repent, if you my duetie hinder.

Car.
I call to witnesse men and Gods.

(Mon.)
Gods you
To witnesse call, that you despised haue.

Car.
Since you'le not heare me, heare me heauen and earth
Mirtill a straunger is, and not my sonne,
You do prophane your holy sacrifice.

Mon.
Heauens aide me from this Bedlam man.
Who is his father since hee's not your sonne?

Car.
I cannot tell you, I am sure not I.

Mon.
See how he wauers, is he not of your bloud?

Car.
Oh no.

(Mon.)
Why do you call him sonne?

Car.
Because I from his cradle haue him nourisht still.
And euer lou'd him like my sonne.

Mon.
Bought you him? stole you him? where had you him?

Car.
A courteous straunger in Elides gaue me him

Mon.
And that same straunger, where had he the childe?

Car.
I gaue him

(Mon.)
Thou mou'st at once disdaine and laughter.
First thou him gau'st, and then hadst him in gift.

Car.
I gaue him that which I with him had found

Mon.
And where had you him?

(Car.)
In a lowe hole,
Of daintie Mutle trees vpon Alpheus banke:
And for this cause Mirtillo I him call'd.

Mon.
Here's a fine tale, what haue your woods no beasts?

Car.
Of many sorts.

(Mon.)
How scapte he being deuour'd:

Car.
A speedie Torrent brought him to this hole,
And left him in the bosome of a litle Ile,
On euery side desended with the streame.

Mon.
And were your streames so pitifull they drownd him not
Your Riuers gentle are that children nurse.

Car.
Laid in a cradle like a litle ship,
With other stuffe the waters wound together,
He was safe brought by chance vnto this hole.

Mon.
Laid in a cradle?

(Car.)
In a cradle laid.

Mon.
And but a childe?

(Car.)
I but a tender childe.

Mon.
How long was this agoe?

(Car.)
Cast vp your count
Is it not nineteene yeares since the great floud?
So long t'is since.

(Mon.)
Oh how I feele a horror shake
My bones.

(Car.)
He knowes not what to say:
Oh wicked act, orecome yet will not yeeld:
Thinking t'outstrip me in his wit, as much
As in his force, I heare him murmur,
Yet he nill bewray that he conuinced is.

Mon.
What interest had the man you speake of in
That child? was he his sonne?

(Ca.)
I cannot tell.

Mon.
Had he no better knowledge then of it then thus?

Ca.
Nor that know I.

(Mon.)
Know you him if you see him?

Ca.
He seem'd a shepheard by his cloaths and face,
Of middle stature, of blacke haire his beard
And eye-browes were exceeding thicke.

(Mon.)
Shepheards
Come hither soone.

(Damet.)
Behold we are readie here.

Mon.
Which of these did he resemble then?

Ca.
Him whom you talke withall he did not onely seeme,
But tis the same, who though't be twentie yeares agoe,
Hath not a whit alter'd his auncient looke.

Mon.
Stand then aside, Dametas stay with me,
Tell me know'st thou this man?

(Da.)
Me seemeth so,
But yet I know not where.

(Ca.)
Him can I put in minde

Mon.
Let me alone, stand you aside a while.

Ca.
I your commaundement willingly obey.

Mon.
Now answere me Dametas, and take heed
You do not lye, tis almost twentie yeares
Since you return'd from seeking out my child,
Which the outragious Riuer bare away:
Did you not tell me you had search'd in vaine
All that same countrey, with Alpheus waters?

Da.
Why aske you this?

(Mon.)
Did not you tell me him
You could not finde?

(Da.)
I graunt I told you so.

Mon.
What child then was it (tell me) which you gaue
Vnto this stranger, which did know you here?

Da.
Will you I should remember what I did
So long agoe? old men forgetfull are.

Mon.
Is not he old? yet he remembers it.

Da.
Tush he doth rather dote.

(Mon.)
That shall we see,
Come hither straunger, come.

(Ca.)
I come.

(Da.)
Oh that
Thou wert as farre beneath the ground.

(Mon.)
Tell me
Is this the shepheard that gaue thee the gift?

Ca.
This same is he.

Da.
What gift is't thou speak'st of?

Ca.
Dost not remember in the temple of Olimpich Ioue,
Hauing had answere of the Oracle,
And being readie to depart, I met with thee,
And ask'd thee of the Oracle, which thou declaredst,
After I tooke thee home vnto my house,
Where didst thou not giue me an Infant childe,
Which in a cradle thou hadst lately found?

Da.
And what of that?

(Ca.)
This is that very child,
Which euer since I like mine owne haue kept,
And at these Aultars must be sacrific'd.

Da.
Oh force of Destiny.

(Mon.)
Yet wilt thou faine?
Is it not true which he hath told thee here?

Da.
Oh were I dead as sure as it is true.

Mon.
And wherfore didst thou giue anothers goods?

Da.
Oh maister seeke no more, let this suffice.

Mon.
Yet wilt thou hold me off and say no more?
Villaine thou dyest if I but aske againe.

Da.
Because the Oracle foretold me that the child
Should be in danger on his fathers hands
His death to haue if he returned home.

Ca.
All this is true, for this he told me then.

Mon.
Ay me, it is too manifest, the case is cleare.

Ca.
What resteth then, would you more proofe then this?

Mon.
The proofe's too great, too much haue you declar'd,
Too much I vnderstand, ô Carino, Carino,
How I change griefe and fortunes now with thine,
How thy affections now are waxen mine,
This is my sonne, oh most vnhappie sonne,
Of a more wretched father. More sauadge was
The water in him sauing, then in running quite away,
Since at these sacred Aultars by thy fathers hands
Thou must be slaine, a wofull sacrifice,
And thy poore bloud must wash thy natiue soyle.

Ca.
Art thou Mirtilloes father then? how lost you him?

Mon.
The deluge rauisht him, whom when I lost;
I left more safe, now found, I leese him most.

Ca.
Eternall prouidence which with thy counsell hast
Brought all these occurrents to this onely point,
Th'art great with childe of some huge monstrous birth.
Either great good or ill thou wilt bring forth.

Mon.
This t'was my sleepe foretold, deceitfull sleepe.
In ill too time, in good too lying still.
This was th'vnwonted pitie, and the sudden horror that
I felt to stay the axe and shake my bones:
For nature sure abhorres a stroke should come
From fathers hands, so vilde abhominable.

Car.
Will you then execute the wicked sacrifice?

Mon.
By other hands he may not at these Altars die.

Ca.
Why will the father murder then the sonne?

Mon.
So bids our law, and were it pietie to spare
Him since the true Amyntas would not spare himselfe?

Ca.
O wicked Fates, me whither haue ye brought?

Mon.
To see two fathers soueraigne pitie made a homicide.
Yours to Mirtillo, mine vnto the Gods,
His father you denying for to bee,
Him thought to saue, and him you lost thereby,
Thinking and seeking, I to kill your sonne,
Mine owne haue found, and must mine owne go kill.

Ca.
Behold the monster horrible this Fate brings forth.
O cruell chance (Mirtillo) ô my life.
Is this that which the Oracle told of thee?
Thus in my natiue soyle hast thou me happy made:
O sonne of me poore old and wretched man,
Lately my hope, my life, now my dispaire and death.

Mon.
To me Carino leaue these wofull teares,
I plaine my bloud: my bloud, why say I so,
Since I it shead? poore sonne why got I thee?
Why wert thou borne? did the milde waters saue thy life,
The cruell father might the same bereaue?
Sacred immortal powers, without whose deep insight
No waue doth stirre in seas, no blast in skies,
No leafe vpon the earth: what great offence
Haue I committed, that I worthy am
With my poore off-spring for to warre with heauen?
If I offended haue, oh yet my sonne
What hath he done you cannot pardon him?
O Iupiter the great disdainfull blast
Would quickly suffocate my aged sence,
But if thy thunderbolts will not, my weapons shall.
The dolorous example Ile renew,
Of good Amyntas our beloued Priest,
My sonne amaz'd shall see his father slaine,
Ere I a father will go kill my sonne:
Die thou Montane, tis onely fit for thee,
O powers, I cannot say whether of heauen or hell,
That agitooke with griefe, dispairefull mindes,
Behold your fury thus it pleaseth you.
I nought desire saue onely speedie death,
A poore desire my wretched life to end,
Some comfort seemes to my sad spright to send

Ca.
Wretched old man, as greater flames do dimme
The lesser lights, euen so the sorrow I
Do of thy griefe conceiue, hath put out mine,
Thy case alone deserueth pittie now.