University of Virginia Library

Actus Quartus.

Scena Prima.

Daphne.
Siluia. Chorus.
Now may the winde vpon his wings beare hence
All ill may happen thee; together with
Th'accursed newes so lately spread of thee.
Thou art aliue (the gods be thanked fort't)
And eu'n but now I did beleeue thee dead;
So had Nerina painted to the life
Thy late hap; but I would shee had bin dumbe,
Or some that heard her deafe.

Sil:
Indeede I scap'd
So narrowly, as I beleeue shee might
Full well suppose me dead.

Da:
Suppose she might
Yet not haue tolde it with such certainty.
But tell me pre'thee how thou didst escape
The danger so.

Sil:
Why I in following
A Wolfe into the wood, had thickt with him
So farr, till I at length had lost his track;
And as I stood thinking to turne againe
Back as I went, I spide him, and I knew him
By' a shaft that stuck in's head neere to his eare,
Which I not long before had shot at him:
He was accompany'd with many more,
About the body of some beast new slaine;
But what beast 'twas I knew not; the same Wolfe
I thinke knew me so well, that on he made
Towards me with his head besmear'd with bloud.
I bouldly stood, and bent a Dart at him,
And when I thought his distance fit for me,
I threw, but (whether it was fortunes fault
Or mine) I mist him, as thou know'st I vse
Not oft to do; he fiercer then before
Rusheth vpon me; and was come so neere,
That I, (my shafts now spent) found it too late
To trust my bowe, and tooke me to my heeles:
Away I ranne; he follow'd me as fast.
See now my hap; a vaile that I had ty'de
My haire withall, was halfe vndone, and flew
At the windes pleasure loosely, that at length
'Thad wound it selfe about a bough; I felt
That somewhat stay'd me; but the feare I had,
Redoubled so my strength, that though the bough
Did all it could to hold me, I broke loose;
And as I left my vaile behinde, I left
Part of my haire withall; and so had feare
Lent my feete wings, that I out-went the Wolfe,
And came safe from the wood; when turning home
I met thee thus amaz'd, and am no lesse
Amaz'd my selfe to see thee so.

Da:
Ay mee
Thou liu'st, 'tis well, would all were well besides.

Sil:
What ayl'st thou? pre'thee art thou sory then
That I'm aliue?

Da:
No; that thou liu'st I'm glad;
But for an others death I must be sad.

Sil:
How's this? for whose death?

Da:
Why Aminta's death.

Sil:
Aminta dead? alas how may that be?

Da:
Nay how I cannot tell; nor yet am sure
Of the deede done; but I beleeue it firmly.

Sil:
What's this thou tell'st me? alas what might be
Th'occasion of Aminta's death?

Da:
Thy death.

Sil:
Make mee conceiue thee.

Da:
Eu'n the heauy newes
Of thy death, which he heard, and credited,
Hath brought him to his end, some-way or other.

Sil:
Fye, th'art deceiu'd; and this thy thought will be
As vaine as was the newes thou heardst of me;
For surely no man will dye willingly.

Da:
O Silu'ia Siluia, thou dost not feele
Nor know what' loues flame can do, in a brest
That is a brest of flesh, and not of flint
As thine is; for didst thou but know't, I know
Thou wouldst haue loued him that lou'd thee more
Then both his eyes; more then his breath and life;
I do beleeue it, nay I'ue seene, and know it.
I saw, I saw him when thou fledst from him
(Vnkinde and cruell as thou wert) when he,
Eu'n then when thou shouldst rather haue imbrac'd
Then scorn'd him so, against his brest had bent
His Dart, with full intent to kill himselfe:
Nor any whit repented of the deede,
When (stay'd by me from farther wounding him)
The sharpe steele had his garment and his skinne
Dyed in his bloud, and had pierc'd through that heart
That loyall heart of his, that thou before
Hadst wounded worse, had not I held his hand,
And sau'd him all I could: but O alas
That slight wound seru'd but as a triall only
And small proofe of his desp'rate constancie;
And but to teach the fatall steele, to do
The black deede it was preappointed to.

Sil:
Ay mee what's this thou tell'st me?

Da:
But at last
When the newes came that thou wert dead, I saw him
Sound at the hearing on't, and dye away;
And came no sooner to himselfe againe,
But furiously he flings away amayne;
And sure I feare, alas, too sure 'twill prooue
Has kill'd himselfe;
Such was his too much griefe, and too much loue.

Sil:
But hold'st thou this for certaine?

Da:
Tis too true.

Sil:
Ay me why didst thou not straite follow him?
And stay him? ah let's seeke, let's finde him out;
Since from my death, his deaths desire is bredd,
He must liue still because I am not dead.

Da:
Alas I follow'd him, but he had soone
So farre outrunne me, as I now despaire
That we shall finde him hauing lost his footing.

Sil:
We must alas we must inquire him out
Some way or other speedily, least he
Thorough our slownesse his owne murdrer be.

Da:
Belike then (Cruell) th'art but grieu'd he should
Take from thee th'honour of this goodly deede?
And would'st thy selfe be the braue murdresse?
Must no hand else but thine, an Actor be
In th'execution of this Tragedy?
Well, set thy heart at rest; for howsoe're
He dyes, thou art his onely murderer.

Sil:
Ah thou dost wound me; and thy eu'ry word
Addes to the agony'e of my bleeding brest,
Strooke through with feare of him; and with the bitter
Remembrance of the sauadge cruelty
In me, which I call'd honesty', and so 'twas,
But too seuere it was, and rigorous;
I finde it now, alas I now repent it.

Da:
VVhat's this? what do I heare?
Why thou art pittifull then, and thy heart
Seemes to haue feeling of anothers harmes;
VVhat doe I see?
Why thou do'st weepe too; I'm amaz'd at this?
Whence ar these teares? Is't loue that causes them?

Sil:
'Tis pitty, 'tis compassion causes them.

Da:
Compassion is the messenger of loue,
As is the lightning of the thunder clap.

Cho:
'Tis often times the property of loue
When he would creepe vnseene into young hearts
Which austere Chastity hath long time shut
And barr'd against him, to assume the habit
And semblance of his handmayd Pitty', and so
Deceiues them ere they be aware, and gets
Into their brests vnknowne and vndiscry'de.

Da:
These ar loue-teares (Siluia) they flow so fast;
Do'st thou not loue indeede? ha? not a word?
Yes, 'tis too true, but alas 'tis too late.
Behold the strange wayes of Loues chastisement;
Wretched Aminta, thou that (like the Bee,
Which hurting dyes, and in an others wound
Leaues his owne life,) hast with thy death, at last
Pierc'd that hard-heart, which liuing felt thee not.
But if, O erring Spirit, (as I feare
Thou art, and seuer'd from thy empty corse)
Thou wandrest here abouts; behold her playnts;
Liuing thou lou'dst her, see shee loues thee dead.
And if thy cruell fate would haue it so,
That thy loue could not be repay'd till now,
And that her loue was onely to be purchas'd
By thee at this deare price; let it suffice thee
(Where more thou canst not haue) that thou hast bought it
As dearely now, as shee could rate it thee;
Euen with thy death.

Cho:
Deare bargaine for the buyer;
And all vnprofitable, and infamous
Vnto the cruell seller.

Sil:
O that I
Could with my loue redeeme his life againe,
Or with my life his life, if he liue not.

Da:
O pitty, O discretion, too late bredd;
Little availe they to reuiue the dead.

Scen: Secunda.

Nuntius
, Chorus, Siluia. Daphne.
I am so full of woe, so full of horror
As all I heare and whatsoere I looke on
Me thinks afflicts, disquiets, and affrights me.

Cho:
What strange newes brings this man, that seemes to me
So troubled in his lookes, and in his speech?

Nun:
I bring the sad newes of Aminta's death.

Sil:
Ay me what sayes he?

Nun:
Aminta noblest Shepherd of these woods;
That was so comely and so gratious;
So deare vnto the Nymphes, and to the Muses;
And dead but eu'ne a ladd.

Cho:
Ah of what death?
Tell vs, ah tell all; that we may in one
Lament with thee his mischiefe, and our owne.

Sil:
Ay me my heart failes me'; I dare not approach
Th'unwelcome newes which I of force must heare.
Vilde breast of mine, obdurate heart of mine,
What fear'st thou now? go hard'ly, presse vpon
The murth'ring kniues that are in yon mans tongue;
And there display thy fiercenes? freind, I come
To beare my part of all the woe thou bringest;
Perhaps it does concerne me more by much
Then th'art aware of; It belongs to me;
Grutch me not on't then.

Nun:
Nimphe I doe beleeue thee;
For eu'ne vpon his death, I heard the wretch
Call still vpon thy name to his last breath.

Da:
Now, now beginnes, the heauy history.

Nun:
I was vpon the middes of you high hill,
Where I had spred abroad some netts of mine
To drie them, when not far off from me, came
Aminta by, with a sad clowdy looke,
And altred much from what he wont to bee
Both in his face and fashion; which I spying
Ranne after him; and staying him, quoth hee
Ergastus thou must doe a curtesie
For me of much importance and auaile;
'Tis to goe with me but a little hence,
For witnesse of a deede I haue to doo;
But first I'le haue thee binde thy faith to me
By a strict oath to stand aloofe from mee
And not approach to lett or hinder that
That I shall do: I (that could nere haue dream't
Of such a furious madnesse in him) yeelded
To's will; and made desperate inuocations
Calling to witness Pan, and Priapus:
Pales, Pomona', and nightly Hecate,
Which done, he led me higher vp the hill:
Where, clambring through wilde rocky passages,
(By wayes nere found, and neuer trode before)
VVee gayn'd the top, that ouer-hung a valley,
'Twixt which and vs was a steepe precipice,
And there we stay'd; I casting downe mine eye,
Began for feare to tremble, and shrunke back.
After a little pause, he smil'de me thought,
And seem'd more cheerefull then he was before;
And that made me misdoubt him lesse then euer:
After that; (quoth he to me) see thou tell
The Nimphes and Shepherds what thou shalt behold;
Then looking downe, Ah that I had (sayd he)
So ready at my will, the throat and teeth
Of those same greedy VVolues, as these rocks be;
I would not dye of other death, then she
VVho was my life; nor haue my carkass torne
But by those teeth that tore those delicate
And beautious limbs of hers; but since that heau'n
Denies so great a blessing to me, I
Must be content some other way to dye;
And though a worse way, yet a speedier.
Siluia I follow thee, Siluia I come
To beare thee comapny,
If thou disdaine me not; O I should dye
Much more contentedly; were I but sure
My follow'ing thee would not disquiet thee,
And that thy hate had ending with thy life:
Siluia I follow thee, I come. Which sayd,
Downe from the place he headlong threw himselfe,
And I turn'd yce to see't.

Da.
VVretched Aminta.

Sil:
Ay mee, ay mee.

Cho:
Why didst not hinder him?
Perhaps the oath thou took'st barr'd thee to doo't?

Nun:
Not so; for setting all such oathes at nought,
(Vaine doubtlesse in such cases) when I saw
VVhither his fond and headdy madnesse tended,
I reacht at him; and (as ill hap would haue it)
Layd hold but of this thinne scarfe, wherewithall
He girt himselfe; which (all too weake to beare
His bodies weight, that rested all vpon't)
Remayn'd broke in my hand.

Cho:
And what became
Of the vnhappy carkass?

Nun:
I know not;
For I was so dead strucken at the sight,
As my heart would not suffer me, to looke
And see him dasht to peeces.

Cho:
O strange fate.

Sil:
Ay mee, were I not made of stone indeede,
This newes would kill me. Ah if the false death
Of me that car'd no more for him, was cause
Enough to end his life;
Much more cause is there that the certaine death
Of him that lou'd me so, should be enough
To end my life; and it shall end my life;
And if griefe cannot do't, the sharpe steele shall;
Or else this girdle heere, which iustly stayes
As loath to follow his sweet Masters ruines,
Till it haue done on me the due reuenge
Of his sad death, and my ingratitude.
Vnhappy girdle (relique of a more
Vnhappy Master) ah do not disdaine
T'abide a while with one so odious;
For thou shalt stay but to be th'instrument
Of his reuenge, and of my punishment.
I might haue bin, alas I should haue bin
Yoke-fellow with Aminta heere on earth;
But since that cannot be, by thy helpe now
I'le finde him out among th'infernall shades,
And there goe beare him better company.

Cho:
Content thee (thou sad soule) 'tis Fortunes fault,
And not by thy meane, that this ill is wrought.

Sil:
Shepherds why plaine yee? if yee moane my woes,
I do deserue no pitty; that haue bin
My selfe so pittilesse; if yee wayle the death
Of the poore Innocent, ah tis too small;
Griefe is too poore to pay his deede withall.
And Daphne thou I prethee dry thy teares;
If for my sake thou weep'st; for my sake cease.
And for his sake that was a thousand times
More worth then I; and go along and helpe me
To finde th'vnhappy bones; and bury them;
'Tis that alone that keepes me still aliue,
And that I do not eu'n now kill my selfe.
It is the least and last duty is left
For me to do him, for the loue he bore me;
And though this vile hand of mine, might perhaps
Blemish the pi'ety of so iust a deede;
Yet he I know will like the deede the better,
For being done by it; for I am sure
He loues me still; his death assures it me.

Da:
I am content to' assist thee'in seeking him,
But talke (for heau'ns sake) of this death no more.
Alas wee'ue had too much of that before.

Sil:
Till now I'ue liu'd only vnto my selfe,
And my owne wayward humor: for the rest,
I vowe it all to' Aminta; and if to him
I may not, I'le liue yet to his colde carkass,
Till I haue done it the last obsequies:
So long I may; longer I will not liue.
But Shepherd set me in the way (I pray')
Vnto the valley at the high hills foote.

Nun:
There O'that hand 'tis, and not far from hence.

Da:
I'le goe along and guide thee, for I well
Remember't.

Sil:
Farwell Shepherds, Nimphes farwell;
Farwell woods, fields, and flocks; farwell, farwell.

Nun:
This mayden speakes me thinkes in such a straine,
As if shee went nere to returne againe.

Chorus.
Loue; thou reioyn'st what Death vnbinds?
(Thou freind of Peace but shee of Bloud;)
Yet thou her Triumphes ouer raignest;
And in vniting gentle mindes,
Mak'st Earth so heau'nly an abode,
As thou to dwell among vs daynest:
Thou smooth'st the rugged hearts of men;
And inward rancors driu'st away
(Great prince of happy peace;) and when
Milde breasts are troubled, do'st allay
Their woes; and by thy working strange,
Framst of things mortall, an eternall change.