University of Virginia Library

Scen: Secunda.

Aminta.
Thirsis.
At my laments I'ue heard the rocks, the waters
For pitty answer; and at my complaint
The leau'de boughes murmur, as they grieu'd for me;
But neuer saw, nor euer hope to see
Pitty in the faire and cruell (shall I say
Woman or) tygar? for a woman shee
Denyes to be, in thus denying me
The pitty this my miserable state
Drawes from things sencelesse, and inanimate.

Thir:
Lambes on the grasse, the Wolfe feedes on the Lambe
Loue (cruellest of things) with teares is fedd.
And though he euer feedes, is neuer full.

Am:
Alas alas, loue hath bin with my teares
Long since full fedd, and now thirsts onely for
My bloud; and long it shall not be, ere he
And the faire Cruell drinke it with their eyes.

Thi:
Ay me, what sayst thou' Aminta? Fye no more
Of this strange dotage; be of comfortman
And seeke some other; others thou mayest finde
As true, as this is cruell, and vnkinde.

Am:
Alas how weary' a worke were it for me
Other to seeke, that cannot finde my selfe;
And hauing lost my selfe, what can I gaine
With busie'st search that shall requite the paine?

Thi:
Dispaire not yet, vnhappy though thou bee,
Shee may in time relent, and pitty thee:
Time makes the Tygar and the Lion tame.

Am:
O but so long to hope and be delaid,
Is worse then death to one in miserie.

Thi:
Perhaps thy suffrance shall not long endure;
For mayds so' inconstant ar of disposition,
That as th'ar soone at odds, th'ar as soone wonne;
Vncertaine as the leafe blowne with each winde,
And flexible as is the bladed grasse.
But gentle Shepherd, let me craue to know
More throughly thy loues hard condition;
For though I'ue often heard thee say thou lou'st,
Thou neuer tould'st me yet, who 'twas thou lou'st;
And well it fitts the nearenesse of our liues,
And frendship, that such counsayls should be none
Betweene vs two, but free to both, as one.

Am:
Thirsis, I am content to ope to thee
What the woods, hills, and flouds ar priuy to,
But no man knowes: so neere alas I finde
Th'approaching period of this loathed breath,
That reason 'tis I leaue some one behinde,
That may relate th'occasion of my death,
And leaue it written on some Beech-tree barke,
Neere where my bloudlesse carkasse shall be lay'd;
That as the cruell Faire shall passe along,
She may at pleasure spurne with her proud foote
The vnhappy bones,
And smiling say; loe here, loe where he lyes;
The triumph and the trophey of mine eyes;
And (to encrease her fame,) reioyce to see
In my sad ende her beauties victory
Knowne to the Nimphes, and Shepherds farr and neere,
Whom the report may thither guide: perhaps
(Ah hopes too high) shee may bestow a sigh,
And though too late, with some compassion rue
The losse, of him dead, whom shee liuing slue,
And wish he liu'd againe. But I digresse.

Thi:
On with thy story, for I long to heare't;
Perhaps to better ende then thou supposest.

Am:
Being but a Lad, so young as yet scarse able
To reach the fruit from the low-hanging boughes
Of new growne trees; Inward I grew to bee
With a young mayde, fullest of loue and sweetnesse,
That ere display'd pure gold tresse to the winde;
Thou know'st her mother hight Cidippe; no?
Montano the rich Goteheard is her father:
Siluia, faire Siluia 'tis I meane, the glory
Of all these woods, and flame of euery heart;
'Tis shee, 'tis she I speake of; long alas
Liu'd I so neare her, and then lou'de of her,
As like two turtles each in other joy'de;
Neere our abodes, and neerer were our hearts;
Well did our yeares agree, better our thoughts;
Together woue we netts t'intrapp the fish
In flouds and sedgy fleetes; together sett
Pitfalls for birds; together the pye'd Buck
And flying Doe ouer the plaines we chac'de;
And in the quarry', as in the pleasure shar'de:
But as I made the beasts my pray, I found
My heart was lost, and made a pray to other.
By little' and little in my breast beganne
To spring, I know not from what hidden roote
(Like th'herbe that of it selfe is seene to growe)
A strange desire, and loue still to be neere
And hourely drinke from the faire Siluias eyes
A sweetnesse past all thought, but it had still
(Me thought) a bitter farewell; oft I sigh'd,
Yet knew no cause I had to sigh; and so
Became betimes a louer, ere I knewe
What loue meant; but alas I knewe too soone;
And in what sort, marke, and I'le tell thee.

Thir:
Onn.

Am:
All in the shade of a broad Beech-tree sitting,
Siluia, Phillis, and my selfe together;
A Bee, that all about the flowry mede
Had hunny gathred; flew to Phillis cheeke;
The rosie cheeke mistaking for a rose,
And there (belike) his little needle left:
Phillis cryes out, impatient of the paine
Of her sharp sting; but th'euer louely Siluia
Bad her be patient; Phillis (said shee) peace,
And with a word or two I'le heale thy hurt,
And take the sting, and soone the griefe away;
This secret erst the graue Aretia taught mee,
And her I gaue (in recompence) the horne
Of Yuory tipt with gould I wont to were;
This said, the libs of her faire sweetest mouth
Vpon th'offended cheeke shee laid; and straite,
(O strange effect) whether with the sound it were
Of her soft murmur'd verse of Magick powre,
Or rather (as I rather doe beleeue)
The vertue of her mouth,
That what it toucheth, cures, Phillis was cur'de;
And with the paine soone was the swelling gone.
I, that till then ne're dream't of more delight,
Then on the shine of her bright eyes to gaze,
And ioy to heare her speake, (musique more sweete,
Then makes the murmur of a slow pac'de brooke,
When tis with thousand little pebbles crost;
Or the winde pratling 'mongst the wanton leaues)
Gan then, eu'n then to feele a new desire
Possesse me, of touching those deare lips with mine;
And growne more suttle then I was before,
(So loue perhaps th'imagination whets,)
I found this new deceipt, whereby to 'aspire
With greater ease to th'end of my desire;
I faynde my selfe stung on the nether lip,
In like sort with a Bee as Phillis was;
And in such manner gan to moane my selfe,
As th'helpe my tongue crau'd not, my lookes implored;
The harmlesse Siluia, pittying strait my case,
Offred her ready cure to my fayn'd hurt;
But th'vnfayn'd wound I bleede of, deeper made,
And farre more deadly, when those corall twinnes
On mine shee layd. Nor do the greedy Bees
Gather from any flowre honey so sweete,
As I did from those freshest roses gather;
Though bashfull shame, and feare had taught to barre,
Hot kisses from desire to presse too farre,
T'imbathe themselues; and did their heate withholde
And kill, or made them slower and lesse bolde.
But while downe to my heart that sweetnesse glided,
Mixt with a secret poyson, such delight
I inly felt, that faigning still the griefe
Of the sting had not left me yet; so dealt,
That shee the charme repeated sundry times:
Since when till now, still more and more I finde,
For all her charme, she'has left the sting behinde.
Whose paine ere since hath so increas'd vpon me,
As my loue-labouring breast could hold no longer,
But that vpon a time, when diuers Nymphes
And Shepherds of vs in a ring were sitting,
Whilst the play was, each one should softly whisper
Some word in th'eare of her that next him sat;
Siluia (quoth I soft in her eare) for thee
I pine, and dye, vnlesse thou pitty mee.
No sooner heard she this, but downe she hangs
The faire looke, whence I might perceiue to breake
A suddaine and vnwonted ruddinesse,
That seem'd to breathe forth anger mixt with shame;
Nor would shee' in other language answer mee,
Then such a troubled silence, as appear'd
Threatning and deadly; nor since then would euer
Willingly see, or heare me: Thrise the Sunne
His yearly course hath runne, thrise the greene fields
Hath the nak'd Sythman barb'd; and three times hath
The Winter rob'd the trees of their greene lockes;
That I haue tryde all meanes I could, t'appease her,
And nought remaines, but that I dye to please her;
And gladly would I dye, were I but sure
'Twould either please, or but drawe pitty from her;
Each were a blessing to mee, though no doubt
Her pitty were of both the greater meede,
And worthyer recompense for all my loue,
And for my death; yet I were loth to wish
Ought, that too rudely might those eyes molest,
Or do the least offence to that deare brest.

Thi:
Did she but heare thus much from thee, beleeu'st thou
It would not make her loue, or pitty thee?

Am:
I neither knowe, nor can I hope so much:
Shee flyes my speech, as th'Adder doth the charme,

Thi:
Well be of comfort; my minde giues mee yet;
Wee'll finde a meane that she shall heare thee speak

Am:
'Twill come to nought; to begg such grace were vaine,
For mee to speake, where speech no grace will gaine.

Thi:
For shame dispaire not thus.

Ami:
Alas iust cause
Bids mee dispaire; my cruell destinie
Was read by the graue Mopso long agon,
Mopso that knowes the hid language of birds,
And vnderstands the force of herbes and founts.

Thi:
What Mopo's this thou speak'st on? is't not he
That carryes honey in his supple tongue,
And friendly smiles for all he lookes vpon,
But in his heart deceipt, and hidden beares
Vnder his coate a rasor? shame befall him;
The vilde vnlucky doomes he lewdly sells
To silly fooles with that graue looke, and grace,
Ar farr from trueth; take't of my word, and triall.
I'le rather hope (and sure my hope will thriue)
That from this fellowes ydle auguryes
Much happyer fate will to thy loue arise.

Am:
If ought by proofe thou know'st of him, good swayne
Hyde it not from me?

Thir:
Ile tell thee willingly.
When first my hap led mee to know these woods,
I knew this fellow, and esteemed him
As thou do'st: So it fortun'd once, I had
Desire and bus'nesse to go see that great
Wonder of Citties, at whose ancient feete
The broad-fam'd riuer runnes; and him I made
Acquainted with my purpose: he replyes,
And thus began to preach; My sonne beware
Now thou art going to that seate of fame,
Where those deceiptfull crafty Cittizens,
And euill minded Courtiers liue, and wont
To scoffe at vs, and hould in such a scorne
Our plaine distrustlesse homely carriage;
Be well aduiz'd (my sonne) and presse not there
Where the fresh colour'd robes with gould ar wrought,
Gay plumes, and dayly-varied dressings shine;
But aboue all, beware accursed Fate,
Or thy youths iollity conduct thee not
Vnto that magazine of restlesse chatt,
But flye that cursed and inchaunted place.
What place is that (quoth I?) 'tis there (said he)
Where dwell th'inchantresses that haue the powre
And arte to make men, and their minds transparent;
And what so Diamonds seeme, and finest gold,
But glasse and copper ar; those siluer chestes
That seeme full of rich treasor, ar no more
Then kennells full of filth, and cozen men;
The walles ar built too with that wondrous arte,
That they will speake, and answer them that speake;
Nor in halfe words, and such imperfect sounds,
As wont the Eccos that heere haunt our grounds,
But eu'ry word whole, and entyre repeating:
Nay more then this, the tables, chaires, and stooles,
Hangings, and all that to each roome belongs,
Haue toung and voice, and neuer silent ar;
False lyes there, formde into the shape of babes,
Ar hopping all about; and be he dumbe
That enters there, findes straite a tongue to prate
And lye with; but there is yet worse then this,
May happen thee; thou mayst perhaps be turn'd
Into a beast, a tree, a floud, a flame,
Into a floud of teares, a fire of sighes.
All this he tould mee; and I forward went
To see the Cittie with this false beliefe;
And (as good happ would haue it,) chaunc'd to passe
Along the place where stands that blessed dwelling,
Whence I might heare breath out such melody,
By Swans, and Nimphes, and heau'nly Syrens made,
With voyce so shrill, so sweet and full of pleasure,
That all amaz'd, I stay'd to gaze, and listen:
Before the doore there stood (mee seem'd) as guard
Of the faire showes within, a man in showe
And of proportion stout, and knightly hue;
Such as (for what he seem'd me) made me doubt
Whether for Armes he were, or counsaile fitter:
With a benigne, and milde, though graue aspect,
He highly-faire bespake, and led me in;
He great in place, mee poore and homely man:
But then, what did I see? what did I heare?
Celestiall goddesses, and louely Nimphes,
New lights, new Orpheusses; and others too
Vnuayl'd vnclouded, as the virgin-morne,
When siluer dewes her golden rayes adorne.
There Phæbus shone, inlightning all about,
With all his sister Muses; among whom
Satt Elpine; at which sight, all in a trice
I felt my selfe growe greater then my selfe,
Full of new powre, full of new diety?
And sang of warres, and Knightly deedes in Armes,
Scorning the rurall Songs I wont to make;
And though I after did (for others pleasure)
Turne to these woods againe, yet I retaynde
Part of that Spirit; nor yet sounds my pipe
So lowly as before, but shriller farr.
And through the woods rings, with a trumpets voyce.
Afterward Mopso heard me'; and with so vilde,
And sowre a count'nance greeted mee, that I
Became straite hoarce, and was a long time mute;
When all the Shepherds said, sure I had bin
Scar'd with the Wolfe; but Mopso was the Wolfe.
This I haue tould thee, that thou mayst beleeue
How little this mans words deserue beliefe;
And out of doubt, th'hast the more cause to hope,
For that this fellow bids thee not to hope.

Am:
I'me glad to heare this troth of him; but now
I leaue my life, and my liues care to you.

Thi:
Feare not 'tis all my care to cure thy paine:
Within this houre see thou be here againe.

Chorus.