University of Virginia Library

Scena nona.

Satyr.
Does he believe Corisca? and pursue
Her steps to Erycina's Cave? a beast
Hath wit enough to apprehend the rest.
But if thou dost believe her, thou hadst need
Have from her good security indeed,
And hold her by a stronger tie then I
Had lately of her hair. But stronger tie
On her there cannot be then gifts. This bold
Strumpet her self to this young swain hath sold.
And here, by the false light now of this vaut
Delivers the bad ware which he hath bought.
Or rather, 'tis Heav'ns justice which hath sent
Her hither to receive her punishment
From my revenging hands. His words did seem
T'imply she made some promise unto him,
Which he believ'd: and by his spying here
Her print, that she is in the cave, 'tis cleer.
Do a brave thing then: stop the mouth o'th'cave
With that great hanging stone, that they may have
No means of scaping; to the Priest then go,
And bring by the back-way (which few do know)
His ministers to apprehend, and by
The Law deservedly to make her dye.
For 'tis not unto me long since unknown,
That she contracted is to Coridon,
How-ever he (because he stands in fear
Of me) to lay his claim to her forbear.
But now I'le give him leave at once to be
Reveng'd on her both for him self and me.
But I lose time in talk. From this young Grove
I'le pull a tree up by the root, to move
The stone withall. So, this I think will do.
How heavie 'tis! The stone hath a root too.
What if I min'd it with this trunk? and so,
As with a leaver heav'd it from below?
Good, good; now to the other side as much.
How fast it sticks? I did not think it such
A difficult attempt as it hath prov'd;
The Center of the earth were easier mov'd.
Nor strength, nor skill will do this work I, see:
Or do's that vigour which was once in me
Now fail me at my need? What do ye do
My perverse Stars? I will, (in spight of you)
I will remove it yet. The Divell haule
Corisca, (I had almost said) and all
The sex of them. O Pan Liceus, hear,
And to move this, be moved by my pray'r!
Pan, thou that all things canst, and all things art,
Thou once thy self didst woe a stubborn heart,
Revenge on false Corisca now, thine own
And my despised Love. I move the stone
Thus by the vertue of thy sacred name;
Thus rowls it by the vertue of the same.
So, now the Fox is trapt, and finely shut
Where she had earth'd her self. I'le now go put
Fire to the hole; where I could wish to find
The rest of women, to destroy the kind.

Chorus.
O love ! how potent and how great thou art!
Wonder of nature and the world! What heart
So dull, as not to feel thy pow'r? What wit
So deep and piercing, as to fathom it?
Who knows thy hot lascivious fires; will say,
Infernall spirit, thou dost live and sway
In the corporeall part. But who so knowes
How thou dost men to vertuous things dispose,
And how the dying flame of loose desires
Looks pale, and trembles at thy chaster fires;
Will say, Immortall God, i'th'soul alone
Thou hast established thy sacred Throne.
“Rare Monster! wonderfully got betwixt
“Desire and Reason; an affection mixt
“Of sense and intellect: With knowing wilde:
“With seeing blinde: A God, and yet a childe:
And (such) thou sway'st the Earth and Heaven too;
On which thou tread'st as we on t'other do.
Yet (by thy leave) a greater miracle,
A mightier thing then thou art I can tell.
For all thou do'st (that may our wonder claim)
Thou dost by vertue of a womans name.
Woman! the gift of heav'n; or of him rather
Who made thee fairer, being of both the Father,
Wherein is Heav'n so beautifull as thou?
That rowls one goggle eye in its vast brow
(Like a grim Cyclop) not a lamp of light,
But cause of blindnesse and Cymerian night
To the bold gazer: if that speak, it is
A thundring voice; and if it sigh, the hisse
Of earth-engendred windes. Thou, with the fair
Angel-like prospect of two Suns, which are
Serene and visible, doest still the windes
And calm the Billows of tempestuous mindes;
And Sound, Light, Motion, Beauty, Majesty,
Make in thy face so sweet a harmony,
That heav'n (I mean this outward heav'n) must needs
Confesse thy form the form of that exceeds:
Since beauty that is dead lesse noble is
Then that which lives, and is a place of blisse.
With reason therefore man (that gallant creature,
That lords it over all the works of Nature)
To thee as Lady Paramount payes duty,
Acknowleding in thine, thy Makers beauty.
And if hee Triumphs gain, and Thrones inherit,
It is not because thou hast lesse of merit;
But for thy glory: since a greater thing
It is to conquer, then to be a King.
But that thy conqu'ring beauty doth subdue
Not onely man, but ev'n his Reason too,
If any doubt, hee in Mirtillo hath
A miracle that may constrain his faith.
This wanted (Woman) to thy pow'r before
To make us love when we can hope no more.