University of Virginia Library

Actus 3.

Scena 1.

Enter Demagoras and servant.
Are all our forces muster'd.

Serv.
They are my Lord.

Demag.
Let them be
All in a readinesse. I meane this night
T'attempt Kalanders Castle: my great soule
Is not yet satisfied by my revenge
Upon Parthenia's beauty: the contempt
(Cast on me by refusall of my match)
Cannot be wash'd off, but in streames of bloud.

Serv.
But my Lord, thinke on Kalanders strength.

Demag.
I know my owne.
And 'twere a sin 'gainst my undaunted courage
To doubt 'tis large sufficiencie has not power
To vanquish any enemy. Let hosts,
Conjoyne to hosts, affront me; yet this arme
Has an innated vertue, that shall force
Victory from their multitudes, as due
Onely to my deservings. Let the Captaines
Prepare our forces, while in this grove I meditate
The sweetnesse of my just revenge.

Arga.
Pray Sir to whom belong yon forces.

Serv.
To Lord Demagoras, there is the Generall.
Exit Servant.

Arg.
You'r happily encountred, Doe you know me?

Demag.
Though such things as you are,
Fit onely for effeminacie and sport,
Doe seldome meet my knowledge, you are,
If I mistake not, Argalus; I sent you
A glorious present lately, your Parthenia
Dress'd in her new robes of beauty, such as might
Intice your wanton appetite to love.

Arga.
Villaine, to glory in thy most detested act,
Shewes that thy Fiend-like nature has forgot
All lawes of noble manhood; but I sinne
To interchange a word with such a Monster;
Yet before thou dost fall by me, as, if heaven have not
Lost all its cure of innocence, thou must doe,
I'le force thee heare the blacknesse of thy mischiefes.
What devill cloth'd in humane shape, except
Thy barbarous selfe, would have atchiev'd the wrack
Of so much matchlesse beauty.

Demag.
'Twas too meane, too light a sacrifice for my revenge,
Had her whole Sex beene there, attired in all
The glory of their beauty, and you Sir present,
My anger had invaded them, and spight
Of your defence converted their choice formes
To the same loathsome leprosie.

Arga.
Peace Monster.
Each syllable thou utterest does infect
The aire with killing pestilence: it was
Heavens never-sleeping Justice that directed
My erring person hither to revenge
Parthenia's murder'd beauty on thy life.
Nay stare not on me Sir, were you defenc'd
With heaps of men as numerous as your sinnes,
This sword should force a passage, and dig out
Thy heart from that black cabinet of thy brest,
And cast it a prey to Vultures.

Demag.
You'r very confident
Young gallant of your fortune, prithee goe
Poore boy and fight a combat in the court
With some soft Mistresse, dance, or touch a Lute:
Thou art a thing so abject thou'rt not worthy
The anger of Demagoras; arme, be gone,
Lest I doe frowne thy soule away. My sword
Will be an uselesse instrument 'gainst such
A childish enemie.

Arga.
Glorious Devill,
My furies growne to that unequall height
'Twill not admit more conference; thy crimes
Are now ripe for my punishment: though Fiends
Guard your black brest, I'le peirce it.

Demag.
So valiant?
I shall chastise your fury.

Fight, Demag. falls.
Arg.
Parthenia,
Thou art in part reveng'd, and if mine owne
Death doe succeed his, I shall goe in peace to my eternity.

Demag.
Sure great Mars
Has put on armes against me in this shape,
For 'tis impossible mortality could
Atchieve Demagoras conquest. Farewell light,
'Tis fit the world should weare eternall night.

Dies.
Arg.
I hate to triumph
O're his loath'd carcasse, which should be a prey
To Wolves and Harpyes: O Parthenia!
Here lies the Fatall Cause of all our mischiefes;
And sure no soule will at his death repine:
Revenge, when just, 's, not humane, but Divine.

Ent. Serv.
Serv.
Where have you left my Lord?

Arg.
There lies your Lord.
Exit Arg.

Serv.
Dead?
Curst Fate, that so much greatnesse
Should suffer this great overthrow, and fall
From such a height to a sad funerall!

Exit
Amphialus and Philarchus.
Amphi.
'Tis such a cruelty, as no report,
Though it discourse of rapes, and timelesse deaths,
Has ever equall'd.

Phi.
The successe will speake
The wonder more prodigious. The poore Lady
(Still lovely in her sorrow) after this sad rape
Of her rare beauty, privately stole thence,
And with that strictnesse has obscur'd her selfe,
That though inquest (though many indeavour'd
In her desir'd search) can attain the least
Discovery of her present being.

Amph.
How beares Argalus this sad disaster?

Philar.
As a man
Whose noble courage, 'bove the crosse of Fate,
Seemes patient at his misery.

Amph.
He and I
Are both made up of sorrow, our full griefes
Might (like two swelling Oceans when they meet
In a contracted channell) aptly combat
For rough priority. Philoclea
My glorious Cousin, will by no intreats,
No services, yet be induc'd to love;
That I was forc'd, against the naturall zeale
I beare the King my Uncle, to transgresse
(Such is the power of my fancy) the strict nesse
Of my obedience, captivating her
By force, to whom by a most free consent
My soule before was prisoner.

Phi.
I could wish, noble Amphialus, that your desires
Might both atchieve forgivenesse, and successe:
I'm none of those strict Statesmen, though I love
My King, that hate your vertues for this fact,
Because I know the greatnesse of your spirit
Attempted it not for inveterate hate,
Or for ambition, but to gaine her love.

Amphi.
Philocleas love, upon whose meanest thought
The Art of Memorie's grounded, and inspires
Each organ of our meditating sense,
With their perfections merit.

Phi.
But my Lord:
How brooks the king the bold detention
Of his faire daughters? Sure he will invert
Some sudden forces on you, and compell
Their back-deliverie.

Amp.
He shall first inforce
Mortality into nothing. I did send,
To avoid effusion of more humane bloud,
This faire defiance, that he should elect
A Champion daring singly to oppose
Me in a combat, and if Fate decreed
My fall by him, security for the freedome
Of his imprison'd daughters.

Phi.
Did his Grace accept the noble offer?

Amp.
With a freedome
Fitting a King, but who the person is
That hopes to gaine a Trophee by my death,
Fame has not yet divulg'd. This urgent businesse
Hinders my visit of my Lord Argalus;
Present my true hearts service to him, tell him I
Doe inwardly dissolve into a dew
Of bleeding passion for his losse, and would
To re-invest blest quiet in his heart,
Act o're the Scene of dangers I have pass'd
Since I knew earliest manhood, so your Lordship
Will please to pardon my rude haste, I must,
As to my friends, to my owne affaires be just.

Exeunt.
Enter Clitophon, Strephon, Alexis.
Clito.
Perswade me not to this, there is no woman
Worthy my love, they are all too falsly common
To every Suiter.

Alex.
Why Clitophon say you so, who are blest
With her society whom I love best?
Yet in her presence I'm forbid to move
My suit, nay dare not name the name of love.

Stre.

'Tis your own flat foolery Alexis; you should with
garbe and gesture pastorall, with as much scorne as you would
o'returne your enemy at football, contemne the force of woman, Why?

Women are shadows, fly away
When follow'd, or desir'd to stay;
But if you slight them, they will sue,
Follow, intreat, nay flie to you:
But if stiffe and strong you stand,
You may tread them at command.
But lie downe, the pretty Elves
Will straight fall under you of themselves.
Like my Spaniell, beaten, they
Will lick your lips, and with you play.
This is the reason why
They love me so doggedly;
You might by my example edifie,
And live in peace Alexis.

Alex.
Why Strephon, you usurpe without a cause
The priviledge of their love; your carriage drawes
Their laughter, not affection; you appeare
To them for sport, not for your person deare.

Streph.

Ther's your foolery still, thou hast commerc'd it
seemes with none but thine owne sheepe, and art farre sillier
than they: your woman is the greatest dissembler in the
world, and where they toy and jeere, they most affect:

Finally women are slippery, as at their tayles are Eeles,
Their mindes as light as are their heeles.
And every one's for what she feeles:
And so with my opinion, farewell.

Clito.

Stay honest Strephon, I did late compose verses in
hatred of them.

Stre.
They are not prose, pray read them.

Clito.
Who would trust a woman, when
They'r the onely curse of men?
Syrens sing but to intice,
They men to a fools paradise:
Hyæna's speak, 'tis to betray
To certaine ruine, so doe they:
Crocodiles shed teares of slaughter,
Women weepe when they meane laughter.
Inconstant, cruell, falfe, unkinde,
Are attributes that suit their minde.

Stre.

Now, as I am true Arcadian, thou would'st be whipt
for this; Cupid shall cite thee into his Court for this by some of
his villanous Apparators, where his wide conscienc'd Proctors,
and their Clerks, shall with their pen and inkhornes
beat thy braines out: if thou scap'st that, Ladies shall beat
thee to death with their Monkies, you jack-a-napes; chambermaids
shall worry thee to death with kisses, than which
there can be no greater tyranny; then, the very Cooke, and
Milkmaids, shall in scolding prose, baste thee into a jelly, or
charme thee into May-butter; you shall answer this, I'le peach,
I'le play the Informer.

Clito.
I'le not recant it, nor deny this truth,
Alexis you shall heare it justified.

Exeunt.
Enter Kalander, Argalus, and Philarchus.
Kalan.
Where met you Lord Amphialus?

Phi.
In the grove, 'twixt Mantinea and his Castle, while
Our servants led our horses down the hill,
We did exchange some accents in discourse.
The noble youth, as hopefull of successe
In his designe, as brave in his resolve;
But the great rumour'd warfare 'twixt the King
And him's converted to a single fight
Betwixt Amphialus and what champion
The King will venter to ingage in such
A cause of weighty consequence.

Kalan.
I'm glad:
Arcadia long blest in a happy peace
Shall by the letting of so few veines bloud
Continue in her quiet; it was fear'd
This sad domestick quarrell would have cost
More lives than might with justice have beene spar'd;
But 'tis not yet divulg'd by fame whose valour
Will be imploy'd i'th combat.

Phi.
His knowledge
Has not yet attain'd the notice of't: My Lord,
He does present his best respects to you,
Deplores your sorrows with a brothers griefe, intreats you
Have so much mercy on your glorious youth,
As not to spend its blooming pride in sighes.

Arg.
My Lord, I thank him, and rejoyce his Fate
Has sorted him so honourable a triall
Of his undoubted valour: for my griefes,
They doe increase on me, like a disease,
Spreading through all my faculties, which shakes
My soule into an agony of death,
And will, I hope, ere long, dissolve this flesh
Into forgetfulnesse.

Kalan.
Nay good my Lord,
Renounce this passionate temper, wee'l depart
Hence to my Castle, expell our cares with feasts,
Hunt the wild bore that will with masculine rage
Resist the hunters, till he foame to death,
View swift hounds running hotly in pursuit
Of the chac'd game, and from the neighb'ring hills
Force Ecchoes to their shrilnesse.

Arg.
Alas my Lord:
The sole conceit of faire Parthenia's losse
Would from a heart of marble force salt teares
Cold as the dew the stone distills, invite
An unremorsefull Crocodile to shed
Drops as sincere as does the timorous Hart
When he o'reheares the feath'red arrow sing
His funerall Dirge.

Kala.
See Alexis accompanied with a stranger Lady.

Enter Alexis and Parthenia.
Alex.
Sir, this Lady, newly arriv'd from Corinth, has
Some businesse she will disclose to none but you.

Exit.
Parth.
My vow's absolv'd.

Arga.
Angels, or if there be a power has charge
Of humane frailty, shrowd me with their wings;
The sight of this divinity will strike
More than my Eyes, my Reason, and inforce me
Here to die gazing.

Phi.
Blesse me! 'tis sure Parthenia.

Kala.
My vertuous Neece recover'd.

Arg.
'Tis her face.
I have examin'd with industrious eyes
Each line, each lovely circle that adornes
This best perfect piece of nature and all speakes
Parthenia's figure.

Parth.
My honour'd Lords.

Arg.
'Tis her voyce!
The same well-sounding musick did inchant
With its melodious harmony my heart.
Let me adore the miracle.

Parth.
My Lords: Doe not distract with a deceiving joy
Your noble soules, I will not seeke to fold
Your thoughts in doubtfull errour: you mistake,
I'm not Parthenia.

Arg.
What delusion playes with our faculties?

Parth.
My Lord, afford me patient hearing, my discourse
Containes much consequence, you never lov'd
Parthenia dearlier than my selfe: we wore
The very figure of each others mind,
As well as body, and I should transgresse
Th'integrity of our inviolate truths;
Not to fullfill each scruple of her will
With ceremonious duty, she being dead.

Arga.
Oh my just feares!

Phi.
Deare Lady, is she dead?

Par.
Dead, cold in her dark urne,
As was her Icy chastity; she did arrive
Some few dayes since at Corinth, where resolv'd
T'obscure her self to all but mee, kind heaven
Pitying her sad disaster, by mild death,
Translated her to the immortall blisse
Prepar'd for innocent lovers.

Arga.
Sure I am insensible of misery, or my brest
Would burst with fulnesse of my griefes; deare Lady
Informe me where Parthenia is intomb'd,
That like some humble pilgrime, I may visit
The holy place with a religious zeale, and bathe
Her virgin ashes in my teares,
Weepe o're her grave till from my drops arise
Parthenias monument.
Some crystall pyramid to tell the world:

Par.
You interrupt, what my sad heart, as an unwelcome load,
Desires to be disburdend of: before
Her dying breath, she did injoyne me by
All our friendships rites, when I had laid
Her corps in earth: straict to repaire (with notice
Of her expiring) hither.

Phi.
Deere my Lord, be not so much distemper'd.

Parth.
Tell, quoth she, my noble mother that I dy in peace,
Even with Demagoras; commend me to my love,
My dearest Argalus; informe him that
His very name flies with my soule to heaven,
There to remaine for ever; and ingage him
T'accept of you as my last guift, you are
So like Parthenia that, hee'll love you for
My memory: So with a constant truth
To my dead friend I'm come, my Lord, to offer
What she bequeath'd, her legacy of my love,
To your acceptance.

Arga.
Madam, I must rest
For your kind wish your servant; but in me
Parthenia only must have room to live,
While I have vitall motion. Had she impos'd
What charge (but this) soever, I'de endevour
It's strict performance: but I am resolv'd
As she enjoy'd my first, my latest love
Shall on her memory waite till we do meet
I'th happy shades together.

Part.
Sure my Lord,
This is contempt of my desert, I must not
Be thus repuls'd: to satisfie your feares,
I am your true Parthenia.

Argalus.
Parthenia.

Part.

Yes, and by the Queen of Corinth cur'd, whose skill
and care clens'd my fowle leprosie.

Arga.
Parthenia, 'twas well your wisdom by degrees
Diffus'd this comfort; had you showr'd it all at once,
T'would like a torrent have o'reborne the banks
Of my amaz'd mortality.

Kal.
Come, discourse
Your story at your leisure, Argalus
Take your Parthenia, treachery nor hate
Cannot undo the firme decree of Fate.

Exeunt.
Sapho. Aminta. Strephon. Clitophon.
Strep.
Ile try your impudence, have you the face
To deny your libell Clitophon?

Clit.
Good Strephon urge me not, I shall not want
Audacity to expresse them to recant.
My just opinion were injust, and fit
To staine my resolution, and my wit.

Amin.
Clitophon, how dare
You arm'd with boldnesse greater than dispaire
Venture abuse to woman, or defile
That name with scandall, to whose meanest smile,
You have done worship?

Sapho.
Prais'd looks with flat'tring art,
Each look, each lineament, as the best part
Of Natur's choysest workmanship: but men
Are more inconstant than light whirlewinds; trust
The sea with feathers, or March winds with dust
Rather; and let their words, oaths, teares, vowes passe,
As words in water writ, or slipery glasse.

Clit.
This is more jugling. O! with these h'as found
A passage through my Eyes, to give a wound
To my poore Heart: it is their looks beget
This soddaine alteration, which as yet
Does but with infant feathers strive to fly
To heaven, tels Justice of the injury
I have done sacred womanhood: thence
Thou scrowle detracting spotlesse innocence.
Aminta deare forgive me, Sapho see
How my teares distill.

Stre.

If they were every one as big as a Turnip, it should not
serve to feed my anger: well wenches, if you doe pardon him,
may your maidenheads be a burden to you, till you bee forescore
at least, then may you turne Witches, and some Goblin
get them; or else perish in your Virginity, and leade Apes in
Hell for't: Nay if you do forgive him, I will have you arraign'd
of treason against Venus, and Cupid shall be your blind Judge,
and condemne you for the fact, to loose your heads; your maidenheads
I meane, and have a man of fourescore and ten for
your Executioner.

Sapho.
Deare Strephon, do not frown, it does disgrace
The sallow color of thy wither'd face.

Stre.

You would faine cog your selfe into my favour again;
but till you bee converted from this Clitophon, you shall not
kisse the worst part about me.

Saph.
O say not so,
Thou art more sweet than Yewe or Miscletoe,

Alex.
O Clitophon, Aminta, every voyce
Be fill'd with admiration, sing, rejoyce,
Till th'earth dance like our young Lambs, till trees
Grow active at the musick; all degrees,
Of greefe are banish'd: all our flocks shall play
For joy Parthenia, O Parthenia?

Clito.
What of Parthenia.

Alex.
Is return'd, her right
Beauty new shining like the Queen of night,
Appearing fresher after she did shroud:
Her gawdy forehead in a pitchy cloud,
Loves triumphs in her eyes; audacious I,
That durst name love, and faire Alexis by:
Be dumb forever.

Sapho.
Stay Alexis,
She shall now revoke that loving tyranny,
Since our Parthenia's return'd, I'le turne
My Elegiack strains away, and burn in high love raptures.

Alex.
She must strait be wed to Lord Argalus,
The bridall bed is in preparing.

Sapho.
At a verse of mine,
Hymen shall light his Nuptiall flaming pine,
I will enchant them to embraces free,
With a devoted Epithalamy;
Till I sing day from Tethis armes, and fire
With ayry raptures the whole morning quite,
Till the small birds their Silvan notes display
And sing with us, joy to Parthenia.

Dance & Exeunt.