University of Virginia Library

first Scene

Daphne, Phillis.
What? Will Phillis then confume her youth as an anckresse,
Scorning daintie Venus? will Phillis still be a Modder,
And not care to be cal'd by the deare-sweete name of a Mother?
Will not Phillis ioy to beholde her selfe in a Phillis,
And her trueloues face in a yong boyes face to be shining?
Change this minde, fond wench, and this resolution alter.
Phillis.
Seeke the delites of loue, who list, (if loue be delightfull)
This life is my loue, my bowe and shafts be my treasure,
Hunting is my ioy; with stubburne beasts to be striuing,
Vntil I fell them downe, and fearefull beasts to be chasing.
And, till woods want beasts, and quiuer feathered arrowes,
Phillis shall not want any sweete sports or prety pastimes.

Daphne.

Phillis.
When that I seeme to repent, or seeme to bewray my repentance,
Or say so with teares; let floods run back to the fountaines,
Let Woolues fly fro the Lambe, and trembling Hare to the Greyhounde,
Let Beares range by the sea, and Dolphin swymme by the deserte.

Daphne.
See what it is to be yong; gyrles always vse to be peeuish:
Soe was I in tymes past, (Good tyme il past) when I wanted
Age and experience, and so did I trudg to the forrest.
Golden locks, cherylips, red-white face, yuory fingers,
Prowde as a praysd Peacock, and so did I trudg to the forrest.
Netts were then my delyte, and bended bow my reioycing,
Poynted dartes my ioy, and slaughtred beasts my triumphing.
If that I sawe myself (myself vnluckily selfwilde)
But by a glaunce, one glaunce of a Louers eye to be noted,
Downe did I hang my head, and bow myne eyes to my bosome,
Sore displea'sd forsooth, and, God wot, greately abashed
When my pleasing face to a loues looke brought any pleasure,
As though t'were some fault, or shame, or mock to my ownself,
For to be looked vpon, to be lou'd, and sought for of others.
But what can not tyme effect? What can not a louers
Continuall wooing, long seruyng, dayly deseruyng
Bring by degrees at length, at length, to a fortunat endyng?
Phillis, I must confesse, at last I began to be yeelding
Vnto a Loues conquest: and these armes made me be yeelding,
Long patience, kyndenes, sighs, teares, importunat askings.
Then did a night, one night, one shorte night teach mee a lesson,
Which many thousand dayes would neuer let me be learnyng:
Then did I quyckly repent, and quickly bewray my repentance,
And say thus with teares: Now farewel mighty Diana,
Bowes and shafts I renownce, and brutish life I abandon.
So, I doo hope, one day, thy gentle-mynded Amyntas
Shall with aboundant teares make thy hard hart to be tender;
And why should not I hope, when I see iust matter of hoping?
Is not Amyntas fayre? is hee not lou'd of many Lasses?
Dooth not hee loue Phillis? yet Phillis loue's not Amyntas:
And yet, alas, neyther thy hate, nor loue of an other
Can withdraw his loue: And, if thou looke to thy gentrie,
As sweete Cydippe is know'n to be truly thy mother,
Cydippe daughter to the sacred God that abydeth
In this syluer brooke; soe, father of haples Amyntas
Was good Syluanus, Syluanus son to the greate Pan,
Pan the shepheards greate God, that rul's and raign's by the forrest.
And, if Phillis chaunce to behould her face in a fountayne,
Phillis will not seeme more fayre then fayre Amaryllis:
And Amaryllis fayre lou's gentleminded Amyntas;
And Amaryllis loue is still contemn'd of Amyntas,
For that, Phillis loue still rests in soule of Amyntas,
Although Phillis alas hates her truelouer Amyntas.
Now suppose for a while (God graunt it proue but a suppose)
That Phillis sowre lookes dryue of this loue of Amyntas,
And Amaryllis loue draw on this loue of Amyntas,
And that Amyntas kisse, kisse and embrace Amaryllis,
And laugh at Phillis: what then wi' Phillis imagin?

Phillis.
Well: let Amyntas deale as seemeth best to Amyntas,
And loue somewhere els; his loue hath made me to hate hym.

Daphne.
Loue breede hate? Sweete Syre of a most vnnatural ofspring
And vile degenerate bastard: but when wil a white swan
Hatch any coleblack crowe? or meeke sheepe foster a Tyger?

Phillis.
Daphne leaue this talk, or looke noe more for an answer:
His loue breedes my hate, when I hate to aford what hee loueth:
Hee's not a fryend, but a foe, that my virgynyty seeketh:

Daphne.

Phillis.
Well: when I see trees weepe, and heare theyre louely bewaylings
And secreate groanyngs, i'le frame myself to be louing.

Daphne.
Tis but a folly I see, to be wasting wyn'de on a prowd gyrle,
That knows nought her self, and wil not learne of another.
Thou that mak'st but a iest of loue, hereafter, I doubt not,
Wilt full sore lament, and fyn'de all true that I tell thee:
When thou shalt for shame fly back fro the watery fountayns,
Back fro the springs where now thou see'st thy face to be shynyng,
For very shame and griefe to behold thy beauty decayed
And face all wrynckled: that's bad, but that's but a common
Myschief, looke in tyme that a worse plague light not vpon thee.
I'le say nought; but I wot what news were truly reported
By sage Elpinus last day, to the louely Lycoris:
And he reported afore Corydon and Alphesibœus
Twooe greatest maysters of loues lawes, and he reported
In fayre Auroraes greate Caue, whose bewtiful entrance
Hath these woords engrau'd by the hand of louely Cupido,
(This place is sacred, for louers only apoynted)
There Elpinus sayd, and sayd that he heard it of ould tyme
Of that great pastor, (greate man, whose sweetly resoundyng
Pipe did passe fro the fyelds and sang of martial horrors,)
How that in hels deepe pitt, foule fyends haue framed a dungeon,
All as black as pytch, and all as darck as an ouen,
Hard by the ioyles bancks where smokes and foggs be arising
From wayling Acheron: and there these no-pyty-taking
Dames and scornefull gyrles are all condemn'd to be plagued,
All tormented there in dungeons ougly for euer.
There fitt place, fayre walkes for Phillis shalbe prepared:
There shall fogs, and mystes, and smokes, and palpable horror
Wring out teares from her eyes, and force her still to be wayling,
Whom no louers smart, no griefe could make to be weeping.

Phillis.
Good sweete Daphne peace, and tell this againe to Lycoris,
Terrifie babes with bugs: its tyme to be gone to the huntyng
Solempne great hunting which this same day is apoynted
In that pleasant parck, that sweetest parck of a thousand
Yuychurches parck, prety Yuychurch, that on hill topp
Flowring hill topp sitts, and looketh downe to the valleys,
There, ô there, I dooe heare (for soe Philoueuia tould mee)
There that Nymph, braue Nymph, that peareles Pembrokiana
Yuychurches Nymph doth meane herself to be present,
And with her owne person giue grace and life to the pastime.
Ile to my wonted well with Christall water abounding,
There wil I leaue this dust and sweate that I gate by my toyling
Yesterday, when I made that lightfoote Doe to be tumbling.

Daphne.
And i'le hoame, for an howre or twoo: and then to the huntyng,
Then to the parck wee'le goe: in meane tyme marck what I tould thee
More than parcks and wells, and, if symplicity blynde thee,
Know thy not knowing; soe, mayst thou know of an other.