University of Virginia Library

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.