 | Amyntas |  |
Scen. 8.
Vrania. Thestylis.My Thestylis, since first the Sea-gods Trident
Did rule the small three pointed peece of earth
Of this our conquering soile, it has not been
A place of so much story as to day,
So full of wonders: O 'twill serve (my Thestylis)
For our discourse when we goe fol'd our Ewes,
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Their Kiddes upon these mountaines shall for ever
Relate the miracle to their wondring Nymphs,
Of my Vrania; it will fill their eares
With admiration.
Thes.
Sir, Vrania's here.
Amyn.
How! in this habit! This me thinks befits not
A Lover, my Vrania.
Vra.
Yes, Amyntas.
This habit well befits a Virgins life.
For since my Dowry never can be paid
Thus for thy sake I'le live and dye a maid.
Amyn.
O is it just, so faire a one as you
Should vow Virginity? must the sacred womb
Of my Vrania fit to have brought forth
A fruitfull race of Gods, be ever barren?
Never expect Lucina? shall this beauty
Live but one age? how curs'd is our posterity
That shall have no Vrania's! can one Tombe
Contain all goodnesse? Ceres rather blast
The corne thou gav'st us: let the earth grow barren;
These trees, and flowers wither eternally;
Let our Plowes toyle in vaine; and let there be
No more a harvest: Every losse is small,
Yea though the Phænix selfe should burne to ashes
And nere revive again! But let there be
Some more Vrania's—
Pilum.
Tis necessity,
We must obey.
Amyn.
But yet Vrania,
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'Tis not prophane, and mid'st our sacred Orisons
Change a chast kisse or two; or shall I too
Turne Virgin with thee?—But I foole my selfe,
The Gods intend to crosse us, and in vaine
We strive (Vrania) to crosse them again.
Vrania kneeling before the Ompha.
Vran.
Great Ceres, for thy daughter Proserpines sake
Ravisht by Pluto from Sicilian plaines
To raigne with him Queen of Elysian shades,
Accept the sacrifice of a Virgin, for
It is thy Pleasure, thine, by whom the earth
And every thing growes fruitfull, to have mee
Be ever barren: Thy impossible Dowry,
Makes me despaire to be Amyntas bride;
Therefore that cold chast snow that never should
Have melted but betwixt his amorous armes
I vow unto thy Cloyster (Awfull Goddesse!)
Almighty Ceres, is not this life holy
Echo.
Folly.
Better then live in an unhappy love?
Ec.
Happy love.
Be judge ye woods, & let Amyntas speak.
Ec.
Amyntas, speak.
Pil.
The Goddesse is well pleas'd, she daines to answer
By gracious Echo's; goe Amyntas speak.
Amyn.
Why, will she answer mee before Vrania?
No, 'twas the musique of her Angels voice,
Whose heavenly Accents with such charming notes
Ravish'd the Goddesse eares, she could not choose
But bear a part in that harmonious song;
Yet if she will after such melody
Endure to hear the harsh Amyntas speak.
No, 'twas the musique of her Angels voice,
Whose heavenly Accents with such charming notes
Ravish'd the Goddesse eares, she could not choose
But bear a part in that harmonious song;
Yet if she will after such melody
Endure to hear the harsh Amyntas speak.
Ec.
Amyntas, speak.
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When wilt thou think my torments are enow?
Ec.
Now.
Alas, how is it possible I should hope it?
Echo.
Hope it.
How shall I pay the Dowry that you aske mee?
Echo.
Aske mee.
I aske a Dowry to be made a Husband.
Echo.
A Husband.
Answer directly to what I said last.
Echo.
What I said last.
A Husband, Ceres? Why is that the guesse?
Ec.
Yes.
That which I have not, may not, cannot have,—
I have not, may not, cannot have a Husband.
Tis true, I am a man, nor would I change
My sexe, to be the Empresse of the world.
Vrania, take thy Dowry, 'tis my selfe;
A Husband, take it.
Vran.
I have not, may not, cannot have a Husband.
Tis true, I am a man, nor would I change
My sexe, to be the Empresse of the world.
Vrania, take thy Dowry, 'tis my selfe;
A Husband, take it.
'Tis the richest Dowry
That ere my most ambitious praiers could beg!
But I will bring a portion, my Amyntas,
Shall equall it, if it can equall'd bee:
That which I have not, may not, cannot have
Shall be thy portion, 'tis a wife, Amyntas
Amyn.
Should greater Queenes wooe mee in all their Pride,
And in their laps bring me the wealth of worlds,
I should prefer this portion 'fore the best.
Thankes Ceres, that hast made us both be blest.
Echo.
Be blest.
Clai.
Pilumnus, let us now grow young againe,
And like two trees robb'd of their leafy boughes
By winter, age, and Boreas keener breath,
Sprout forth and bud again: This spring of joy
Cuts forty yeares away from the gray summe.
Once more in triumph let us walke the Village!
Pilum.
But first I will intreat this company
To deigne to take part in this publique joy.
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