University of Virginia Library

Scen. 5.

Niso. Amyntas. Celia.
Niso.
Thou com'st in time, in time, Amyntas, sure
The Heavens did conduct thee to this place,
My lifes in question here, Amyntas, see,
But whether, (woes me) whether are they gone?
Vanisht so soon? What Cloris, Nerea?
Cloris I say! they have abus'd me both.
Follow, Amyntas, follow.

Amyn.
Which way shall I follow? Niso, That,
And I will follow them about this Hill.

Celia.
Oh most delicious drink sweet to this taste
Which thirsted after death.

Amyn.
They do not keep the path, and if they chance,
To take into the Wood, I gaze in vain.

Celia.
I am here all alone, now in the hands
Of death, why do not I then dye?

Niso.
This way they are not gone, is there left yet,
Another way to find?

Celia.
Ah me! what do I see?

Niso.
Amyntas look! look there's my Sun.

Amyn.
Ah peace, if she perceive us, she will straight
'Vanish out of our sight, and then those rays
Will rather seem a flash of lightening, then
The chearful beams of this bright shining Sun.

Niso.
Already she hath spyed us, and it seems
That even very now, she looks this way,
But yet with high disdain: And see'st thou not!
Me thinks she looks as she were full of woe:
I see in that fair face, the Gilliflowers,
And Roses withered, and look wonderous pale.

Celia.
They go not hence, nor I cannot remove
Nor yet doth death come to deliver.

Amyn.
She reasons with her self, and happily,
Shee's angry that she findes us here.

Niso.
But yet amidst those woes, there may be seen,
A smiling beauty and a flourishing
Amidst those withered flowers: Oh heavenly!
Oh thou diviner beauty! can it be
That other fair ones, have the fairness of
The richest coulours, and the fairest flowers?
But she not as from them, but from her self is fair.

Celia.
Unhappy eyes, what ere the world hath fair
May there be seen but not by you, and then
What more then death, can you desire to see?

Niso.
Ah me! before so fair a fire I burn,
And fry in scorching heat, and canst thou then
Look on it and be mute? and look again,
And yet not burn? Ah! I cannot contain
My self within this heat

Amyn.
Stay, whether wilt thou go?

Niso.
I must perforce, I will speak to her straight,
And at the least, Ile tell her that I dye.

Amynt.
Speak to her man? and do'st thou not then fear
The force of her reproach? hast thou forgot
The cruel prohibition which she sent,
Did Nereas not tell it thee? if then thou lov'st
Beware thou do not move her to disdan.

Cel.
But from a sight so pleasing (wo is me)
Mine eyes doe drink new poyson, and perhaps
That may retard the operation of
The drink I drunk before.

Niso.
Shall I then dye in silence? shall I dye
Without a breathing fit? no't shall not be,
The Plants at least shall hear, the Plants shall hear
The mournfull accents of my sad laments,
For they will be less deaf unto my moan
Than Celia is, to them hard hearted she
Forbids me not to speak.

Celia.
What do'st thou death, what darst thou not close up
These eyes of mine, which love keeps open thus:
Yet I must dye, and though mine eyes delay,
My heart makes hast to goe that dismal way.
Shepheards doe you remove unto some other place,
Or I of force must flie from this.

Niso.
Ah! thou most cruel Nymph!

Amynt.
Peace Niso, peace, do'st thou not see
That with her foot already in the air
She threatens to be gone? lets leave her then,
Lets leave her here in peace, and go our way,
The Woods doe not want trees to which thou mayst
As well as to these Beeches here complain,
And in thy depth of sorrow sigh in vain.

Niso.
Lets goe, O cruel Nymph!

Amynt.
Ah me! most miserable!