University of Virginia Library

Scen. 3.

Cloris. Celia.
Clo.
O my sweet Celia, Scarce had I rob'd
The Fertile Earth of a few fragrant Flowers.
Before I lost the sight of the: But why
Turn'st thou away those eyes, and why those steps
In such a troubled guise? dost thou disdain
That I should look upon thee once again?
What suddain change is this? when first I came,
This morning to thy Lodg, scarce didst thou deign
To entertain me with a seeming smile:
Which yet discovered plainly that thy Heart
Answered not to thy looks: and when thou then
With thy neglecting Arms didst make a shew,
As if thou wouldst embrace me, thou didst not
Hug me close in thy bosom: but at last
From thy cold frozen Lips, thou didst let fall;
Not dart a kiss at me, and with a soft
Dull fainting voice, I knew not if thou saidst
Th'art welcome Cloris, but 'tis sure enough,
I could not here thee say, as thou wert wont,
(Whilst I was dear to thee) my life, my heart,
My gentle Cloris welcome.
After all this thou gav'st thy self to stray,
And wander up and down, troubled and sad,
I follow thee, thou flyest,
I speak, thou wilt not answer me,
I look upon thy lovely Face, thou weepest,
And dost thou hate me then ingrateful Wench
What have I done, that could deserve thy hate?
Or rather, what 'ist that I have not done
To make thee love me? Are we still the same
That we were wont to be?
Am I still Cloris, art thou Celia?

Celia.
O grief that Wounds my Heart, Ah grant me but
So short a respit as may give me leave
To answer her, and yet conceal my grief.

Clo.
And wilt thou thou then discurtious as thou art,
Deny to me a part of these lost words
which thou so freely spendest in the Ayr?
Who must I speak to now, since thou deniest
To give me Answer? What 'ist I must doe?
Ayme, since thou, who only heretofore,
Wert wont to lessen my tormenting pains,
Art now she that torments me? but allas,
This happily is some prodigious signe,
Of my more desperate ruine, and perhaps
High Heaven hath decreed, my tears shall be
Eternal, since it now denyes to stay
Her that was wont to wipe them all away.

Celia.
Ah Cloris, Ah my Life!

Clo.
That same, my Life, comes from thy mouth per force.
I know it well enough, 'twas not thy Heart
That sent it thither.

Celia.
Let them dissemble then that can, my Tongue
Cannot tell how to give my heart the lye;
Hear me then Cloris, and I do not say
Life, of my Life, because my Life to me,
Is now a burden; but thou art not so.
I am no more that Celia, that I was.
Tis true: but what so ere I am, I fly,
And hate my self, not thee:
Thus far thou mayst know of me, but no more;
Permit me then to wander still alone,
In secret horrors of the savage Woods,
Where through obscurity of darksome shades
I may not see my self.

Clo.
Ahyme, what new malignant Star
Hath Heaven produc't that can compel thy grief,
Thus to neglect it self? and shall I then
Forsake thee too? Not till I know thy ill.
Yet what but love, and his most intricate
Turmoyls, can trouble thus thy happy state?
I oft have heard the wisest lovers say
He knows no grief, that knows not loves delay.
For else what can it be? unless perhaps,
(And can that bring so great a misery?
Mongst other Nimphs upon some solemn day;
Thy Darts or Arrows, have not cleft the Mark;
Or by misfortune, happily thou hast lost
Thy goodly Ivory Bow: I see it not
Hang by thy side: Or is thy gentle Kid
Thy dearest dear delight (and this 'tis true
Is the most sad mishap ill luck can send)
Is he, I say, come to untimely end?

Celia.
He was at least the cause of all my woe
For by his means I did become the prey
Of Eurito the Centaur: whence arose
The spring and sourse of all my misery,

Clo.
Wert thou the Centaurs prey? and how? and when?
Do not conceal so strange an accident.

Colia.
Ile tell it thee, but ask me then no more.

Clo.
Be it as thou wilt have it.

Celia.
Hear then, and when I have declar'd,
The mournful story of my ravishment
Be thou content to leave me here alone.

Clo.
Go on I prethee.

Celia.
That very day when thou (about to take
Thy journey to those Solemn Festivals,
Which in the Holy Isle they celebrate
To the great Goddess) camest to take thy leave,
Of me at my poor Cell: I to restrain
Those Tears which thy departure forct me to,
(As if I had foreseen (woes me) that soon,
I should have have far more urgent cause to give
Full scope to their impetuous Torrent)
I gave my self the liberty to sport
And dally with that nimble frisking Kid:
Whose gentle Gamesomeness, was wont to chear
All my sad froward thoughts; whilest they were such,
As could admit of any gamesomeness.
That harmless Beast, or in his harmless shape
My perverse fortune, by a thousand trains
Of wanton sports, entic't me to that Shore
Where the proud Sea hath wrought it self so near
Unto the Woods, that shaddows seem to swim,
And flouds repose themselves under the shade.
There whilst I spent some time to gather up
Such Cockle Shels, as Nature had adorn'd
With various pride, that I might weave them streight,
Into a collor for my pretty Kid,
Behinde me I could hear the rushing noise
Of a rude boisterous creature, and ere scarce
I well could turn mine eyes, I might perceive
Close at my back, I know not which to say
A man or beast: Whose fury came so fast,
As flung the smaller Sands into my face,
And forc't me shut mine eyes:
Thus neither seeing how, nor yet by whom,
I felt my self snatcht up and born away.
Fain would I have cryed out, but my weak voice,
Not daring to put forth it self, retired
And fled in silence to my throbbing Heart.
Whilest I, as one half dead, could not recall
My straggling sences back, till I was brought
Into the inmost parts of those thick Woods.
And found my self become the wretched prey,
Of a most horrid Monster.
I found my self (and tremble yet to think
What then I found) close graspt within the Arms
Of that mishapen Centaur, that foul fiend,
Whom thou mayst yet if thou hast so much heart,
Lodg'd in thine eyes, behold and wonder at
Thy self, within the Temple.

Clo.
Alas my hair stands upright on an end
To hear him but describ'd.

Celia.
There, to a sturdy Oak, he bound me fast
And re-enforct his base inhumane bonds
With the then danglinst Tresses of my hair,
Ingrateful hair, ill-nurtur'd wicked Locks!
The cruel wretch then took up from the foot
Both my loose tender garments, and at once
Rent them from end to end: Imagine then
Whether my crimson red, through shame was chang'd
Into a pale wan tincture, yea or no.
I that was looking towards Heaven then,
And with my cries imploring ayd from thence,
Upon a suddain to the Earth let fall
My shamefac't eyes, and shut them close, as if
Under mine eye-lids, I could cover all
My naked Members, but considering well
His fell intent, with a deep groaning sigh,
To him I said, behold me ready now
Fit for thy ravenous throat, come quickly, come,
And satiate thy beastly hunger.

Clo.
And why his hunger, say, poor silly wretch?

Celia.
That being once devour'd, I might at least
Within his paunch conceal my nakedness.

Clo.
And dost thou then beleeve, that Centaurs use
To feed upon young tender Maids?

Celia.
Nerea beleeves it not, but laught aloud
When first I told it her; but prithee say,
Why should he so desire to have me bound,
And naked as I was but that he might
Swallow me up alive, and with more ease
Conveigh me piece-meal gliding down his throat?
And even then he came with open Arms,
And snatcht to gripe me by the naked Brest,
When, lo, two Shepheads running fast for hast
Came in unto my rescue.

Clo.
Oh! how my heart's reviv'd! and who were those
Whom Heaven in pitty chose out for thine ayde?

Celia.
Amyntas, old Sirenos Son, whose joy
And whole delights in Hunting, with his friend
Niso, a stranger, whom thou dost not know.
Ay me poor soul!

Clo.
What! art thou sighing still?

Celia.
I have good cause.

Clo.
But how came it to pass that in a place
So far remote, two Shepherds should arrive
Both at one instance?

Celia.
Amyntas, was within the Valley where
He stood to Watch his Toyls, and Niso came
From the Sea shore, whither but then the Winds
Had brought him from a Country far away,
And both brought thither by my shrieking cries:
They both arriv'd together; where the one
Lets fly his Dart, the other shoots a Shaft,
And neither one nor other mist his aime.
The cruel Centaur thus but lightly hurt
In his left shoulder, and in his right arme
Lost some small blood, which was supply'd with rage:
And so betwixt them three, there soon begun
A fierce and bloody fight, till that proud beast
Scorning that two such Stripling should have power
So to withstand his fury, thought at once
To strike a deadly blow, by which he meant
To speed them both, and brandashing his Beam,
The Tree which happily some pitty felt
Of my sad state, did so involve it in
The knotty intricacies of his boughs,
As it fell from his hand:
And he that found his Arme thus without armes,
And without heart, his heart betook him streight
To a most shameful slight, and from the Woods
Whilest he up towards the Mountains took his way
It was his fortune to fall in those Toyls
Which to catch other beasts, Amyntas had
Before plac't in the Vale.

Clo.
And so the insolent proud villain was
Himself made now their prey.

Celia.
The Shepherds followed him; but yet not far
Ere they fell to the Earth, through loss of blood,
Which from their wounds did like a Torrent flow,
And ran even to my feet, sad Messenger
Of their approaching ends, to crave mine ayd.
I shall now tell thee Cloris, what will seem
A wonder to thee, yet it is most true:
Pitty to see their case, made me to strain
My self with so much force, as I got free
From all my bonds, even from those self same bonds
I freed my self, to give another aide,
Which I a thousand times had tried before
For mine own safety, and could not unloose.
When I was free, I had almost for hast
Run to them naked; but consider now
A strange affection.

Clo.
And what hast thou told yet, that is not strange?

Celia.
When I was got where those two Shepherds lay
Half dead, half living, and in reason should
Have stopt their bleeding wounds up with my Vail,
I first beheld the one, and then the other,
To this I went and afterwards to that,
Desiring still to help them both at once,
And yet gave help to neither, as not well
Resolv'd to whom I first should lend my help;
At last I did begin, but knew not where,
And whilst my hand, was busie about one
My heart ran to the other, so that I
Could not well know to which I wisht more ease.

Clo.
What didst thou do at last?

Celia.
All that I could, yet all was nothing worth:
Till those same fearful howlings, which 'gainst Heaven,
That horrid Monster sent up from the Toils
Made all the Valleys far and neer to Ring,
And drew both Nimphs and Sheapherds to those parts,
Where when they came, too soon to them appears
Two over-whelm'd in blood, and one in tears.
They speedily conveigh'd the wounded pair
To old Sirenos House, the Father of
Poor young Amyntas.

Clo.
And live they yet? yet their strength restor'd?

Celia.
I cannot tell.

Clo.
And canst thou take so little care for those
Who for thy safety thus ingaged their lives?
Sure thou art too ingrate.

Celia.
Cloris, no more, this is the Period, when
I must enjoyn thee silence, thou hast heard
All that thou didst demand, now let me part;
Ay me, what do I see?

Clo.
What hath she espyed out there? why did she turn
Her steps so suddainly another way?
Ho! Celia, it is a Shepherd, and I think,
It be Amyntas.