 | The Shepheards Holy-Day |  |
SCENA 2.
Daphnis,Alcon, Nerina: to them Hylas, Montanus, Carinus, Mirtillus.
It shall not serve thy turne, malicious shepheard,
Though thou hast tane my love away by tricks,
Yet all thy cunning, and thy practises
Shall not secure thee from my revenge.
Al.
Are these the thanks I have for that rich jewell
Which I bestowd on thee, ungratefull man?
Da.
Yes, for a poysond glasse, a precious jewel.
Al.
I do confesse 'twas poysond.
Da.
Do you so?
And to do me a courtesie, you kild her.
Al.
Yet heare me, she is not dead; and if she be,
Ile pay my life for hers.
Da.
Be sure thou shalt:
But canst thou hope for such a strong illusion
To mocke my sence? did I not see her dead?
Al.
She did appeare so: what you thought was death,
Is but a lethargie: though I professe not
To draw the Moone downe from the sphere she is in,
Or make the sunne looke bloody by my Arte,
Yet am I well informd in every thing
This glasse is made of, and I know th'effects
It workes, and can dicourse 'em.
Let me heare them.
Al.
Have patience, and you shall; the Glasse you see
Of this rare Mirrour which I gave you, is
Made of a Memphian stone, that has the power
To bring a deadly sleepe on all the senses:
With it, to make th'effects more strong, is mingled
The Quintessence, extracted in a Limbecke,
Of the Torpedo, which has such a quality,
That if the Fisher touch it with his hooke,
A poison straite will creepe through all his veines,
Till it benumme his senses: This compounded,
And made into a glassie metall, soone
Reflects upon the eyes of him that lookes in't
A sleepie poison, which will stupifie
The vitall parts. Yet, he that gave it me,
Taught me the Cordiall water, which he us'd
To restore spirits and heate unto those vitalls;
And I have brought it with me for our purpose.
What have I wrong'd you now? or is my present
Worthy the thankes you give me?
Da.
Yet you were
Too blame, that you'd not tell me this before
I gave it her.
Al.
In that I shew'd my love;
For I did feare your resolution,
Though I were certaine of recovering her.
Da.
And what must now be done?
Al.
Here, where you found me,
She wont to weare, her father so would have it:
I waited on the funerall, with purpose
To see the stone laid hollow on her grave,
For feare of hurting her.
Da.
It was well don.
Al.
Here Ile apply my medicine; you shall see
Whether I lie or no.
Da.
Let's lose no time.
I long to see my love alive againe.
Al.
Then helpe to lift this stone; see where she lies,
The same Nerina?
Da.
She is dead, I see.
Al.
Love is still full of feares: give me the water.
Da.
Here, but take heede it do not spoile her face.
Al.
If she be dead, you neede not feare the change
Of any color; what a childe is love?
Da.
The Gods, I see, will not let beautie die:
She breathes, she stirs, her eies begin to open
As after sleepe. O miracle!
Al.
How now?
Is she alive? will you beleeve your sence?
Now I have put her in your hands, be sure
You do not let her goe, and lose no time.
If you give credit to her words, you're lost.
What cannot womens words and flatteries
Effect with simple lovers? thinke on that,
Be confident: Ile leave you to your Fate.
You Gods where am I now? what place is this?
What light is this I see? are the same things
Seene in this new world, as they are in th'other?
Or in the grave do men see waters, trees,
As I do now, and all things as I liv'd?
But sure I live still: if I doe, why then
Was I here buried amongst these flowers?
Sure I am dead; but yet I walke and speake,
And I have heard that those who once are dead,
Can never use their voice, or action:
But who is this I see here? Daphnis, ha!
Are you dead too, as well as I?
Da.
No sweet,
I live to be the servant of Nerina.
Ne.
I, so said Hylas, whil'st I liv'd with him.
Da.
She thinks of Hylas still, what shall I do?
Ne.
But tell me Daphnis, in what place am I?
Da.
In Daphnis heart you live, and ever did.
Ne.
And so said Hylas, when we liv'd together.
Da.
O Gods againe? Nerina thinke not on him,
You must love me.
Ne.
Must they in this new world,
As they have chang'd their lives, so change their loves,
I never shall do that.
Da.
You are deceiv'd.
You are not dead.
Ne.
Not dead? how came I hither then?
Da.
By my device to keepe me company.
But will you not declare, how I came hither?
Da.
Aske me not that, but goe along with me.
Ne.
Stay shepheard, whither would you have me goe?
Da.
Where love and silence shall befriend us best.
Ne.
But tell me Daphnis, was not I once dead?
Da.
You were, but I your servant chang'd that death
Into a sleepe.
Ne.
I know not what you meane,
Can you change death into a sleepe?
Da.
I can,
And did for love of you.
Ne.
This is a riddle,
Pray let me know what you do meane by it.
Da.
Come with me, and you shall.
Ne.
Nay, tell me first.
Da.
Then know faire shepheardesse, that when I saw
My love, my services, my gifts, my vowes,
Did all returne to me without your love,
I had recourse unto this Artifice,
A pleasent one of loves Invention,
Which you may well remember.
Ne.
What was that?
Da.
I did present you with a looking glasse,
Ne.
You did, but what of that?
Da.
Nothing at all.
Pray goe this way with me.
Ne.
But tell me first.
Da.
That cast you into this deepe lethargie:
Ne.
To what purpose
Did you do this?
Da.
To make you mine.
Ne.
Yours, Daphnis?
How could you hope that without my consent?
Da.
My services I thought would merit it,
Besides the world not dreaming but you were
Dead, and here buried, we two might liue
Together without being knowne to any.
Ne.
But could you practise tricks on those you love?
Now you are paid with your owne Artifice:
For know, ther's none that can dispose of me
But Hylas, who has long preserv'd my heart,
And now my father, (whom I did resolve
For ever to obey) has made him mine,
By giving his consent, which had not bin
But for this tricke of yours.
Da.
Why then it seemes
You do not love me.
Ne.
Love you? know I had
Rather embrace my death againe, then thee.
Da.
Then 'tis no time to dally, come along,
Or I will force you.
Ne.
Helpe me shepheards, helpe.
Da.
Foole, stop your mouth, no humane helpe shal save thee.
Enter Hylas.
Hy.
This is the place where I am come to pay
That glories in the spoiles of all my wealth.
Ne.
Hylas, come helpe me, see'st thou not that Daphnis
Will ravish me?
Hy.
Ha, what doe I heare?
The voice of my Nerina? so she spake
When shee did live; but now, alas, shee's dead:
Some Devill mockes me with a vision,
And voice unto it.
Ne.
Will you see me ravisht
Before your face? O Hylas! oh my Love!
Hy.
Tis she, it is no vision: hold Ravisher,
My love thou canst not take without my life.
Enter Mirtillus, Montanus, Charinus.
Mi.
What noise is this?
Mo.
Some shreike much like a womans.
Ne.
Oh helpe my love, Mirtillus.
Mi.
Shepheard, hold,
Let goe this Nymph.
Da.
Or death, or victory
Shall crowne my enterprize.
Cha.
Who makes this out-cry?
Mi.
Sir, I shall coole you, if you be so hot.
Cha.
My daughter here? was shee not buried?
Away foule spirit, away; let's part these shepheards.
Ne.
O father, do you thinke that I am dead,
I am alive, as you are; touch me, see.
She is alive indeede: how cam'st thou hither?
Ne.
Daphnis, whom you would have to be my husband,
Brought me to this supposed death and grave.
Cha.
By what strange meanes, Nerina?
Ne.
By the glasse
You bid me I should take: he has confest
To mee that it was poison'd.
Cha.
Can it be?
Can Daphnis doe this? he had little reason.
Da.
She was a foole to crie, I should ha' pleas'd her
Ere this perhaps.
Cha.
Here Hylas, take my daughter,
For she is thine: you Daphnis, I did further
In all I could, till you would finde a tricke
To put your selfe beside her.
Ne.
I forgive him:
For though it was ill meant, yet did it sort
By accident unto my good.
Mo.
But will
Our Lawes permit a Ravisher to live?
Hy.
No, no Montanus: let him live, and envie
Our present happinesse.
Da.
Cover, you Gods,
The world in publique ruine, or else shew me
A way to hide my shame.
Mo.
What will he doe?
Mi.
He will go hang himselfe: what plots hee had
To foole himselfe with!
They that practise tricks
Finde them as jades, that throw 'em first, then kick 'em
As his has don.
Cha.
Come shepheards, lets away,
And solemnize these nuptials.
Mi.
Stay Montanus,
Did the King send for you?
Mo.
He did.
Mi.
And how?
Mo.
The message came from Thyrsis.
Ni.
I'le goe with you:
'Tis strange the King should send for you: pray heaven
Thyrsis have done no mischiefe there, he's hansome,
Of a good grace, and moving eloquence:
Perhaps some Lady may have taken him
Up for her selfe, and he, Ile lay a wager,
Will be so squeamish, that if Sylvia
Come in his minde, he ne're will do her reason,
And then her plot will be how to betray him:
Would I were in his place.
Mo.
I would thou wert,
So he were safe.
Mi.
I would comply, ne're feare it;
They live a heavenly life of love in Court,
To that which we do here; a Mistresse there
Will satisfie the longings of her lover,
And never trouble Hymen for the matter:
Then if they like not, they may looke else-where,
Thou wilt be punisht one day for thy mischiefe.
Mi.
The mischiefe's in my tongue, I ne're do any.
Mo.
No, I have heard that Stella was with childe
By thee, and thou must father it.
Mi.
Who, I?
Take me at that once, fathering of Children,
And make me common father of them all:
A child's a prettie thing, and I should joy
To see one of mine owne. Ile tell thee truth
Montanus, by this hand I never lay
With any woman in my life.
Mo.
How then?
You'have courted all; who is it that Mirtillus
Has not profest to love?
Mi.
I do confesse it,
And that is all I could do; for before
I could get earnest of any ones love,
To whom I made addresse; even she would say,
You have another mistresse, go to her,
I wil not be her stale: and so by this meanes,
Nor this, nor that would do me any reason.
Mo.
You had ill lucke, it seemes, 'twas not your fault.
Mi.
No, for if they would beleeve me, I did sweare
I had no other. Pray, Montanus, tell me,
For you have knowne the severall waies of wooing,
Which is the best, and safest?
Mo.
O Mirtillus,
Gray haires have put the wilder thoughts of love
Fright all those heates away, in place of which
Discretion and sobriety should come.
Mi.
But I have heard, old men doe sometimes love.
Mo.
They dote, Mirtillus, give it the right name;
In old mens bloods Cupid does quench his flames.
But as we goe, Ile tell thee, not to love
At all is best; but if you needs must love,
Love one, and seeke no further, thou wilt finde
Enough of her, if once she prove unkinde.
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