University of Virginia Library

Scen. 4.

Filino, Celia, Amyntas, Niso.
Fil.
And art thou here? whom I had almost past
Without perceiving thee, I ran so fast:
Ah Celia! dost thou not know thy Cloris? ah!
What heavy news of Cloris dost thou bring,
Which may deserve these sighs?
Say, doth she live or dye?

Filino.
Ah me, she dyes.

Amyn.
Unhappy fate.

Niso.
What's that he saith?

Celia.
Woes me! and where? and how?

Filino.
Within the Vale.

Celia.
Quickly dispatch.

Filino.
Gently, for I can scarce recover breath.
Within the Valley of Alcander, there
I left her even now, and there she lyes,
Not in the shade, or on the new sprung grass,
But in the parching heat, of the Suns beams,
Amongst rude rugged stones: there with sad sighs,
She took her leave of Heaven, and this fair light,
And with a mournful voice, bad death make hast:
But he was too too near, I saw him there,
Where he already with his wings abroad,
Had cast a gloomy shaddow ore her face.

Niso.
O most unhappy day!

Celia.
Ah me! what sad occasion wrought,
This sad effect in her?

Amyn.
Perhaps the rumour which is spread abroad
Of thy late death, Oh Celia! was the cause:
For if thou dye, who would remain alive?

Niso.
Amyntas! is this Cloris, unto whom,
I gave the Ring.

Amyn.
The very same.

Celia.
O sad misfortune! most unhappy chance!

Niso.
Let us go thither Celia, and perhaps
We may find some relief.

Celia.
Filino, lets go.

Amyn.
Where is it that thou say'st she lies?

Filino.
Within the Valley of Alcandor, close
Within the wood, and yet not far away,
From the fresh springing fountain, there
You cannot miss: but I will now return
Unto my flocks, to play with my young Kid.

Celia.
Ah! Cloris, my sweet soul, the Heavens grant,
That I may find thee but alive, and then,
I cannot doubt, but when thou hear'st what cause
I have to dye, thou wilt approve of all,
Give thy consent, and parting kindly say:
Rest my dear heart in peace.

Filino.
Ho! Niso, hark, a word with thee.

Niso.
What i'st?

Fil.
'Twas almost quite forgot.

Niso.
Speak quickly then for Celio flies away.

Folino.
Stay, take it away thy self,
She put it on, but I cannot undo't.

Niso.
Yes, yes, this is my Ring, thanks to the Gods:
But yet what's this I see? here is the part
Which Phillis had to boot: 'tis certain true,
For round about it plainly do appear,
The figures now entire, which in mine own,
Were but by halves before.
My Filino where hadst thou this?

Filino.
Cloris did give it me.

Niso.
And where had she it then?

Filino.
I know not that; but when I softly came
Unto the place where she did mourning sit:
I saw it lye before her on the ground,
And with her weeping eyes still fixt thereon,
She bath'd it with her tears, and often cryed,
O false ungrateful Thirsis! O unhappy Phillis!

Amyn.
Ah me, what can this be? go on, go on.

Filino.
And whether wouldst thou have me go?

Niso.
How did she give it thee? what did she say?

Filino,
She saw me and cal'd to me, I obey'd,
And with her hand, but a faint trembling hand,
Cold as a stone about my neck she clasp'd
This hoop of gold, and weeping to me said,
But in a tone that I could scarcely hear,
So weak her voice was: gentle boy, quoth she,
Go, and the Heavens guide thee, go with speed:
Carry this Ring, that none my see it else,
Unto the Shepherd whom men here do call
Niso, and say to him,—

Niso.
What should'st thou say to him?

Filino.
Disturb me not: Yes, yes 'twas even so,
Say that in this entire round hoop of gold:
He in Egyptian Charracters may read
The falsified faith of Thirsis: say I wish
That he may still live happy in his love,
As I unhappy dye.

Niso.
Ah me, 'tis Phillis, out of doubt,
What need I fear? yet see me now become
In my best fortune, most unfortunate:
O my sweet Phillis, is it then decreed,
That I should finde thee once again alive:
Onely to be th'occasion of thy death?
Was not thy death sufficient in it self,
To make me miserable every way,
Unless my self became thy murderer?

Filino.
If thou wilt nothing more with me, I'me gon.

Niso.
But thou unhappy Ring that all at once,
Art both th'accuser, and the guilty cause,
Of my foul fault, go thou into the depth
Of dark oblivion.

Filino.
Alas 'tis thrown into the stream.

Niso.
There, there, accuse my fault, prepare my pains
And thither er't be long ile follow thee.

Filino.
He's grown so furious, and so without sence,
As I begin to be amaz'd with fear,
And therefore Ile be gon.

Niso.
Fool that I am, what have I done? I err'd
For happily my Phillis, is not dead,
But say she be not yet, 'tis too too sure
That I have given her a mortal wound,
And what i'st, I can hope for, can I think
To hide the foul injustice of my Crime?
Under a faint dismal? No: See then
The just revenge of love that made me thus,
With mine own tongue, and that before her face
With thousand wicked sighs, and faithless tears,
Accuse my self of infidelity:
But be it as it will, alive or dead
I wil go seek her out, and so will dye
Just at her foot, that for my death at least
If for nought else, I may seem dear to her.
O Celia, Celia, love Amyntas now,
Faithful Amyntas, live with him, and leave
Me to dye for my Phillis, if I can
Do nothing else, yet I can dye for her,
I will dye for my Phillis: lead the way,
Where art thou Fillino? but he is gone,
Who now shall be my guide? Ile take my chance
To him in whose vext heart despair resides
Fury and rage are the most certain guides.