University of Virginia Library

Scena sexta.

Tirenio, Montano, Carino.
Tir.
Make haste my Son; yet tread secure, that I
May without stumbling trace thee through this wry
And craggy way, with my old feet and blind.
Thou art their eyes, as I am to thy mind.
And when thou comest where the Priest is, there
Arrest thy pace.

Mont.
Hah! whom do I see here?
Is't not our Reverend Tirenio? hee
Whose eyes are seel'd up earthward, but heav'n see?
Some great thing draws him from his sacred Cell,
Whence to behold him is a miracle.

Car.
May the good Gods pleas'd in their bounty be
To make his coming prosperous to thee.

Mont.
Father Tirenio, what miracle
Is this? What mak'st thou from thy holy Cell?
Whom dost thou seek? what news?

Tir.
I come to speak
With thee: and news I bring, and news I seek.

Mont.
But why comes not the holy Order back
With the purg'd offering, and what doth lack
Besides to th'interrupted Sacrifice?

Tir.
“O how much often doth the want of eyes
“Adde to the inward sight! for then the soul
“Not gadding forth, but recollected whole
“Into it self, is wont to recompence
“With the mind's eyes the blindnes of the sense!
“It is not good to passe so slightly over
“Some great events unlookt for which discover
“In humane businesses an hand Divine,
“Which through a cloud of seeming chance doth shine.
“For Heav'n with Earth will not familiar be,
“Nor face to face talk with Mortality.
“But those great wondrous things which us amaze,
“And on blind chance the more blind vulgar layes,
“Are but Heav'ns voice: the deathlesse Gods affect
“To speak to mortals in that Dialect.
“It is their language; mute unto our ears,
“But loud to him whose understanding hears.
(A thousand times most happy is that wight
That hath an understanding pitcht so right).
The good Nicandro (as thou gav'st command)
Was ready now to bring the sacred Band,
Whom I withheld by reason of a change
That fell out in the Temple. Which so strange
Event, comparing with what happen'd here
At the same time to thee, 'twixt hope and fear
I know not how, strook and amaz'd I stand:
Whereof by how much lesse I understand
The cause, so much the more I hope and fear
Some happinesse, or some great danger neer.

Mon.
That which thou understandest not, I do
Too well, and to my sorrow feel it too.
But is there ought in hidden Fate can shun
Thy all divining Spirit?

Tir.
O my Son!
“If the Divine use of prophetick light
“Were arbitrary, it would then be hight
“The gift of Nature, not of Heav'n. I find
(Tis true) within my undigested mind
That there is something hidden in the deep
Bosome of Fate, which she from me doth keep,
And this hath mov'd me to come now to thee
To be inform'd more cleerly who is he
That's found to be the Father of the youth
To dye now; if Nicandro told us truth.

Mon.
Thou knowst him but too well, Tirenio:
How wilt thou wish anon that thou didst know
Or love him lesse?

Tir.
“I praise thee O my Son,
“For taking pity and compassion
“On the afflicted: 'tis humanity.
How-ere let me speak with him.

Mon.
Now I see
Heav'n hath suspended in thee all that skill
In Prophecie, which it was wont t'instill.
That Father whom thou seek'st to speak withall,
Am I.

Tir.
Art thou his Father, that should fall
To Dian now an Immolation?

Mon.
The wretched Father of that wretched Son.

Tir.
Of that same Faithfull Shepherd, who to give
Life to another, would himself not live?

Mon.
Of him who dies his Murthresse life to save,
And Murthers me, who unto him life gave.

Tir.
But is this true?

Mo.
Behold the witnesse.

Car.
That
Which he hath told thee is most true.

Tir.
And what
Art thou that speak'st?

Car.
Carino, thought to be
Till now the young mans Father.

Tir.
Was that he
The Flood took from thee long agoe?

Mon.
Yes, yes,
Tirenio.

Tir.
And dost thou stile for this
Thy self a wretched Father? “O how blind
“Is an unhallow'd and terrestriall mind!
“In what thick mists of errour, how profound
“A night of Ignorance are our souls drown'd,
“Till thou enlighten them, from whom the Sun
“Receives his lustre, as from him the Moon!
Vain men, how can you boast of knowledge so?
“That part of us by which we see and know,
“Is not our vertue, but deriv'd from Heav'n,
“That gives it, and can take what it hath giv'n.
O in thy mind, Montano, blinder far,
Then I am in mine eyes! What Juggler,
What dazeling Divell will not let thee see
That if this noble youth was born of thee,
Thou art the happiest Father and most deer
To the immortall Deities, that e're
Begot Son in the world? Behold the deep
Secret, which Fate did from my knowledge keep!
Behold the happy day, with such a flood
Expected of our tears, and of our blood!
Behold the bessed end of all our pain!
Where art thou man? come to thy self again.
How is it that thou onely dost forget
That famous happy Oracle that's writ
In all Arcadian hearts? How can it be
That with thy deer son's lightning upon thee
This day, thy sense is not prepar'd and cleer
The thunder of that heav'nly voice to hear;
Your Woe shall end when two of Race Divine
Love shall Combine:—
(Tears of delight in such abundance flow
Out of my heart, I cannot speak.) Your Woe—
Your Woe shall end when two of Race Divine
Love shall Combine:
And for a faithlesse Nymph's apostate state
A Faithfull Shepherd supererogate.
Now tell me thou: This Shepherd here of whom
We speak, and that should dye, is he not come
Of Divine Race (Montano) if hee's thine?
And Amarillis too of Race Divine?
Then who I pray but Love hath them combin'd?
Silvio by parents and by force was joyn'd
To Amarillis, and is yet as far
From loving her, as Love and Hatred are.
Then scan the rest, and't will be evident,
The fatall voice none but Mirtillo meant.
For who indeed, since slain Aminta, hath
Express'd such Love as he? such constant Faith?
Who but Mirtillo for his Mistresse wou'd
Since true Aminta, spend his deerest bloud?
This is that work of Supererogation:
This is that faithfull Shepherds expiation
For the Apostate false Lucrina's fact.
By this admir'd and most stupendious Act
More then with humane blood the wrath of heav'n
Is pacifi'ed, and satisfaction giv'n
Unto eternall Justice for th'offence
Committed 'gainst it by a woman. Hence
It was, that he no sooner came to pay
Devotions in the Temple, but streightway
All monstrous omens ceas'd; No longer stood
Th'eternall Image in a sweat of blood,
The earth no longer shook, the holy Cave
No longer stank, and shrikes no longer gave;
But such sweet harmony and redolence
As Heav'n affords (if Heav'n affect the sense).
O Providence eternall! O ye Powers
That look upon us from yon azure Towers!
If all my words were souls, and every soule
Were sacrific'd upon your Altars whole,
It were too poor a Hecatombe to pay
So great a blessing with: but as I may
(Behold!) I tender thanks, and with my knee
Touching the earth in all humilitie
Look up on you that sit inthron'd in heav'n.
How much am I your debtor, that have giv'n
Me leave to live till now! I have run o're
Of my life's race a hundred yeers and more,
Yet never liv'd till now, could never deem
My life worth keeping till this instant time.
Now I begin my life, am born to day.
But why in words do I consume away
That time that should be spent in works? Help Son
To lift me up: Thou art the motion
Of my decayed limbs.

Mon.
Tirenio,
I have a lightnesse in my bosom so
Lock't in, and petrifi'd with wonder, that
I find I'm glad, yet scarcely know at what.
My greedy soule unto her self alone
Keeps all her joy, and lets my sense have none.
O miracle of Heav'n! farre, farre beyond
All we have seen, or e're did understand!
O unexampled Bounty! O the great
Great mercy of the Gods! O fortunate
Arcadia! O earth, of all that e're
The Sun beheld or warm'd, most blest, most deer
To Heav'n! Thy weal's so deer to me, mine own
I cannot feel, nor think upon my Son
(Twice lost and found) nor of my self buoy'd up
Out of the depth of sorrow, to the top
Of blisse, when I consider thee: but all
My private joy, set by the generall,
Is like a little drop in a great stream
Shuffled and lost. O happy dream! (no dream,
But a Celestiall vision.) Now agin
Shall my Arcadia (as thou said'st) be in
A flourishing Estate: But why dost thou
Stay here, Montano? Heav'n expects not now
More humane Sacrifice from us. No more
Th'are times of wrath and vengeance (as before)
But times of grace and love; glad nuptiall bands,
Not horrid Sacrifices at our hands
Our Goddesse now requires.

Tir.
How long to night?

Mon.
An hour, or little more.

Tir.
We burn day-light:
Back to the holy Temple let us go;
There let the daughter of old Titiro
And thy Son interchange their Marriage vow
To become Man and Wife, of Lovers now.
Then let him bring her to his Father's straight,
Where 'tis Heav'ns pleasure, that these fortunate
Descendents of two Gods, should henceforth run
United in one stream.—Lead me back, Son:
And thou Montano, follow me.

Mon.
But stay:
That faith which formerly she gave away
To Silvio, she cannot now withdraw
And give Mirtillo, without breach of Law.

Car.
'Tis Silvio still, Mirtillo was call'd so
At first (thy man told me) and Silvio
By mee chang'd to Mirtillo, to which hee
Consented.

Mon.
True: (now I remember me)
And the same name I gave unto the other,
To keep alive the memory of's Brother.

Tir.
'Twas an important doubt. Follow me now.

Mon.
Carino, to the temple too come thou.
Henceforth Mirtillo shall two Fathers own:
Thou hast a Brother found, and I a Son.

Car.
To thee a Brother in his love, a Father
To him, a Servant (in respect) to either
Carino will be alwayes: And since I
Find thee to me so full of courtesie,
I will the boldnesse take to recommend
Unto thy love my second self, my friend.

Mon.
Share me between you.

Car.
O eternall Gods,
“Between our pray'rs slow-winding paths, what odds
“There is (by which we climb to Heav'n) and those
“Directer lines by which to us Heav'n bowes!