University of Virginia Library

Scen. 6.

Amyntas, Celia, Niso.
Amynt.
To death my Celia? to death again?
If thou wilt needs be dying, take this soul,
This grieved soul of mine, and dye with it,
For thou canst never dye unless it flit
Out of this wounded breast.

Niso.
He speaks to her, yet she flies not away.

Celia.
Why art thou so unwilling I should dye?
Wilt thou deny me then a remedy
Against my wo? wilt thou contend against
The just decree of heaven?

Niso.
Nay more, she hears him, and doth answer him.

Amynt.
The heavens prescribe another remedy
Now to thy woes, then by a second death.

Cel.
What other remedy canst thou beleeve
My woes can find, since even death it self,
Which is the end of all mans ill, cannot
Yet put an end unto my miseries?

Niso.
But I will soon break off this their so sweet
And amorous discourse.

Amynt.
My death, not thine, and with my death the lo
Of Niso, now the heavens have decreed
To be the remedy for all thy ills.

Niso.
But I will not disturb them, I will first
With silence hear them speak.

Cel.
Ah! ah!

Amynt.
Do not disdain me, first with favour hear
The reasons I can bring. Dear Celia,
If thou do'st love thy Niso—

Niso.
He pleads against me now.

Amynt.
With reason thou do'st love thy Niso the,
Niso deserves thy love, Niso that knew
How to take fire so quickly from thy flame,
Even then when dying he did open first
His dazled eyes to gaze upon thy light:
And happy he, though late he saw the sun,
Yet late it was not ere his fire begun.
So that in Scyros he may rightly be
Esteem'd a new come guest, but cannot yet
Be tax'd for tardy love.

Niso.
Where will he pitch? what is it he intends?

Amynt.
In me, alass, what canst thou well discern?
Which may deserve thy love? who every way
Voyd of desert, do love and burn 'tis true;
But like a sensless block that's good for nought,
Such sensless blocks are long ere they take fire,
But burn to ashes straight; and such am I,
That could for many years behold those eyes,
And never yet take fire: So late a love
Cannot deserve such speedy pitty then,
I am not worth thy love, nor doe I crave
Thy smallest pitty, such a blessedness
Great love denies me, I do onely beg
That thou wouldst let me dye, and that my death,
Thrice happy death may so restore thee to
Thy perfect health again: then mayst thou love
Amyntas and thy Niso too, and yet
Be neither cruel, nor a faithless love;
For loving one alive, the other dead,
Him thou mayst love, enjoying love again.
Me thou mayst love in mourning for my pain,
Nor shalt thou mourn too long, one gentle tear
Shed for my death, shall pay for all my sighs,
And thou thy self shalt then with endless joy
Enjoy thy Niso's love.

Niso.
O unaccustomed piety both of a friend
And of a faithfull love, I did him wrong
To doubt his truth, but now I do repent.

Amynt.
Then live still both, and may you happy live
Whilst I dye for you both, and here I make
A solemn vow to sacrifice my life
To thee great love, and in thy Temple there
Let this poor carkass rest.

Niso.
There is no longer time for silence now,
'Twere baseness to continue still reserv'd,
I have a heart can die Amyntas, too
Yea and a soul that can desire to dye,
Nay life it self is onely dear to me,
That I may live to dye, and by my death
Make both my love, and friend live happily.

Cel.
Shepheards forbear, be silent both, and both
Content your selves, 'tis I, 'tis only I
That have transgrest, and only I must dye,
Live both, still live, and take no pitty on
A cruel, pittiless, and savage beast,
Let not the love of a most faithless love
Warm either of your hearts: Can you beleeve
This face, these eyes, these hapless dangling locks
Oregrown with grief, refus'd by palefac'd death,
Can ever now be worthy of your love?
Or love still if you will, Ile not gain say't:
But yet love so, that love may breath disdain,
No pitty in your hearts:
I love Amyntas, doth not Niso then
Hate me therefore?
And I love Niso, can Amyntas then
Be free from jealous hate? Ah me! if both,
If both of you hate not my falshood now
'Tis too too sure you doe not love me then;
Love is not there where when just cause doth move
He breaths not fury 'gainst a faithless love:
Woes me you injur'd lovers do not strive
Betwixt your selves, which of you dying now
Should giue me life; rather contend for this,
Which of you both should be the first to strike
Me dying to the heart; for 'tis high time
That I my self should now conspire with you
Against my self, and each of us should bring
His talent to the work: you hands of wrath,
And I my naked breast; you your just darts,
And I my guilty soul; and when you first
Have pierc'st my heart I will breath out my life.
Thus you by wounding, I by dying shall
Revenge your wrongs, and crown my funeral.