University of Virginia Library

Scen. 2.

Laurinda. Thestylis.
Thest.
If Laurinda,
My too abrupt intrusion come so rudely
As to disturbe your private Meditations,
I beg your pardon!

Lau.
How now Thestylis?
Grown Orator of late? has learned Mopsus
Read Rhetorique unto you, that you come
To see me with Exordiums?

Thest.
No Laurinda;
But if there be a charme call'd Rhetorique;
An art, that woods and forrests cannot skill;
That with persuasive magique could command
A pitty in your soule, I would my tongue
Had learn'd that powerful art!

Lau.
Why Thestylis,
Thou know'st the brests I suck'd were neither wolves
Nor Tygers, and I have a heart of waxe,
Soft and soone melting; try this amorous heart; 'tis not
Of flint or marble.

The.
If it were, Laurinda,
The teares of her, whose orator I come
Have power to soften it. Beuteous Amaryllis,
Shee that in this unfortunate age of love,
This haplesse time of Cupids tyranny
Plac'd her affection on a skornfull sheapheard,
One that disdaines her love.

Lau.
Disdaines her love!
I tell thee Thestylis in my poore judgement,
(And women if no envy blind their eyes,
Best judge of womens beauties) Amaryllis
May make a Bride worthy the proudest Sheapheard
In all Sicilia: but wherein can I
Pitty this injur'd Nymph?

The.
Thus she desires you,
As you desire to thrive in him you love;
As you doe love him whom you most desire,
Not to love Damon! Damon alas repaies
Her love with skorne! Tis a request she saies
She knowes you cannot grant, but if you doe not
Shee will not live to aske again.

Lau.
Poore Nymph.
My Amaryllis knowes my fidelity;
How often have we sported on the Lawnes,
And danc'd a roundelay to Iocastus pipe?
If I can doe her service Thestylis,
Be sure I will: Good wench, I dare not stay
Least I displease my Father; who in this age
Of haplesse lovers watches me as close
As did the Dragon the Hesperian fruit.
Farewell.

Exit Laur.
Thest.
Farewell Laurinda! Thus poore foole
I toyle for others; like the painfull Bee
From every flower cull hony drops of love
To bring to others hives: Cupid does this
Cause I am Claius sister. Other Nymphs
Have their varietie of loves, for every gowne,
Nay every petticote; I have only one,
The poore foole Mopsus! yet no matter wench,
Fooles never were in more request then now.
Ile make much of him, for that woman lyes
In weary sheetes, whose Husband is too wise.