University of Virginia Library

Scen. 4.

CLORIS. NISO. NEREA.

He comes not yet, and I must here attend
The old mans leisure.

Niso.
Why do'st thou stay?

Ner.
For loves sake peace.

Clor.
But what shall I do here alone the while?
Sigh out my love? then let us turn again
Unhappy love unto our wonted pains,
And sighing still breath out my luckless wo
Into this amorous air.

Niso.
Go yet at last, what do'st thou fear?

Ner.
She plaies the wilie wench, I know her well
By many proofs: be stil a while.

Clo.
But where, alass, O where are you lost sighs?
And whether do you wander through the air?
If yet you know not where to find the heart
To which love sends you erring messengers
Of most unhappy news?

Niso.
Woes me! go on, and try her though my case
Be ne'r so desperate; for whatsoe'r befall,
I can but dye.

Clo.
Ah! shall I never live to see the day
When once before I dye I may behold
My beauteous Sun again?
'Tis but a look I beg, and then Ile dye,
And dye concent; for one look and no more
I would give up my life, and its worth that.

Niso.
Ah Nerea!

Ner.
Have patience, now I go.

Clo.
O heavens!

Ner.
The gracious heavens satisfie.

Clo.
Ah me!

Ner.
Thy just desires, my gentle Cloris?

Clo.
Thy unexpected voice made me afraid.

Ner.
But pitty then anothers just desires,
Use thou that pitty which thou do'st implore
Thy self from heaven.

Clo.
What should I say? I doubt she hath heard all:
Thou seest me, Nerea, here all alone,
Sighing for that blest day, when I shall once
Behold again in heaven above that Sun
Which I in Smyrna saw.
But what do'st thou desire of me? what is't?

Ner.
The life of a poor Shepheard.

Clo.
Farewel, I'm gon:
Thou knowst I never lend an ear to those
That speak to me of Love.

Ner.
O spightful soul! do'st hear? fly not away.
The thing whereof I speak, 'tis true, is love,
But such as thou wilt not denie to hear,
Beleev't it is, and by this hand I swear,
This fair, this tender hand which now I grasp.

Clo.
Whats that? for loves sake give it me.

Ner.
Sh' hath snatcht it from my hand. Cloris look on't,
Is't not a fair one? but thou shalt have time
Hereafter to look on it long enough.
Now hear what I would say.

Clo.
'Tis none of mine, for thats about my neck.
It must be that of Thirsis: O ye Gods!
Whats this I see?

Ner.
Bear up my Niso, and resume again
Thy late lost courage, see shee's pleas'd beyond
All measure with thy gift, and she will bring
Fair Celia to like it too
If she but take in hand to give it her.
See how she looks upon't.

Niso.
Follow it then, Nerea, O follow it.
Thou onely canst revive my hope again.
If yet my hope can ere revive again.

Clo.
But if my Thirsis should be dead and so
The Ring be faln into some others hands:
Who gave thee, Nerea, this golden ring?

Ner.
A gentle Shepheard gave it me.

Clo.
A Shepheard hereof Scyros?

Ner.
No, but a stranger born.

Clo.
And to what end then did he give it thee?

Ner.
He gave it as a token of his love,
And his eternal faith.

Clo.
Of love to thee?

Ner.
To me?
Look I like one whose love is to be bought
With others gifts? O no I am too old:
'Tis not for me to sell my Merchandise,
She that is rich in years must buy, not sell,
If she intend to please her self in love.
But thou dost know this, and dissemble it:
His love is of a higher nature fram'd,
Unhappy he loves a despairing hope,
Saving that fortune in this hooped ring
(But mark in what a narrow space) still moves
And turns his fainting hopes to her he loves.

Clo.
I prithee ease my pain, and let me know
What name that Shepheard bears, where he abides,
Or let me see, or let me speak with him.

Ner.
'Tis that which he desires, Niso stand forth:
Behold the Shepheard here for whom I plead,
It cannot be but he is known to thee,
As one of those (whom if thou didst attend
The solemn pomp which was this morning held
In payment of his vow) thou needs must see
Triumphing in the Temple.

Niso.
Yes I am he fair Nymph, who did triumph
This morning, and this very night must dye,
If love be not my help.

Clo.
Both name, and voice, and look all different,
But yet what doth not time and fortune change?
And still me-thinks he doth resemble him:
But yet my heart goes faster than mine eyes,
And therefore I am fearfull least desire,
Too much desire should mock my fawning hopes.
Say gentle Shepheard is this ring thine own?

Niso.
It is mine own, save onely in as much
As I am vow'd unto anothers will.

Clo.
When, where, or how didst thou come by it? or
Who gave it to thee? excuse my bold demand.
The thing it self deserves it, as a rare
And unseen jewel in this Isle before.

Niso.
For loves sake doe not press me to relate
So long a story now, when I have left
So short a time to live.
I had it when I was a child, and when
My better fates made me live happily,
I had it from a hand that swaies the rule
Of somthing else than beasts, or horned heards,
I had it (nor will I deny it to be true)
I had it as a pledge of love,
Of faithfull love, which I long since have lost,
And now within these fields (Ah me! fond hope)
Go still pursuing the recovery.
Of my old wonted pains.

Clo.
'Tis Thirsis, it is he,
'Tis Thirsis without doubt, and to this hour
Lamenting still my loss, he rangeth thus
These fields to find me out:
O faithfull heart! O me above all else
Most happy lover! This is that blest day
Which I have sigh'd for long, and this the bliss
The want whereof I have lamented so,
Now sighs and tears adieu, here ends my wo.

Niso.
Seest thou not Nerea, how she (woes me)
At every pause still turns her self about,
And reasons all alone?
And now if I mistake her not, she seems
Strangly confounded, and I know not why.

Cloris.
As yet he knows me not, is not assur'd,
And therefore takes advice of Nerea.

Nerea.
Perhaps she yet suspects, and is in fear,
The gift is meant to her, thou never saw'st
A more reserved Wench.

Clor.
How can it be that love doth not ere this,
At least in secret tell it to his heart?

Nerea.
Or else perhaps delighted with the fair:
Rich beauty of the gold (as who can tell)
Perhaps she may desire it for her self;
For old in those that are the nicest, can
Both blear their eyes, and dazle too their hearts.

Niso.
What ere it be, 'tis more then time my soul,
Should be resolv'd at last.

Clo.
But foolish I, why do I thus retard
My happiness? too long, too long, alas!
My torments have endur'd:

Nerea.
Stand off, a while, Ile put her out of doubt.

Clo.
I will disclose my self.

Nerea.
Cloris.

Clo.
Do not disturb me Nerea, for my heart
Cals me another way.

Nerea.
Yet stay a while, thou art too squeamish now.
What i'st thou fear'st?
That in this ring some train of love is layd
Against thy self? be confident there's none:
This gentle Shepherd here for Celia.
And not for thee, for Celia, I say.
And not for thee; do'st thou conceive me?
For Celia he sighs, and burns, and dyes:
To Celia to whom he gives his heart,
To her this gift is sent, but yet thou mayst
In pitty be a means to give it her.
This is a smal request, and more then this
Is not desir'd of thee; do thou but grant,
To be the Messenger, and then let love
Himself work out the rest.

Cloris.
Thersis, Thersis for Celia?

Nerea.
Niso, not Thersis:

Cloris.
Ah-me.
For Celia doth he sigh, and burn, and dye?
To Celia doth he send the Ring? and I,
Must I conveigh his sacriligious gift?

Niso.
Cloris is troubled, and undoubtedly
Will nocon sent.

Nerea.
Ah! though thou still be cruel to thy self,
At least to others, yet be pittiful.
One gentle word to do another good,
Cannot, it cannot sure impeach the height
And Majesty of thy just rigor.

Niso.
I hear Amyntas voice, but see him not,
Amyntas.

Cloris.
Oh false perfidious love! Oh faith betrayed,
Oh perjur'd Heaven! Oh most wretched I!

Nerea.
Ah me! and why so troubled? wherefore thus
Distracted do'st thou look? and Cloris whether,
Whether away so fast? at least restore
The Ring again, hark, stay awhile: