University of Virginia Library

Scen. 5.

Oronte, Niso, Cloris, Melisso, Narete, Perindo.
Oront.
For ceatain this is it, this is the Ring,
I know't exceeding well: but yet the Law,
The Law is plain against the faulty man,
And he without all hope must lose his head
Who cast the royal image on the ground.

Niso.
Now Phillis thou shalt see whether my grief
And my desire be feigned yea or no.

Oront.
If I can find the wretch, if I can find
But who it was that did possess this Ring.

Niso.
He's found already, Sir, and comes to take
At thy great hands deserved punishment.
The Ring is mine, and I am he that threw
The royal image here upon the ground:
This is the faulty hand, and this the head
Condemned for the fact to be cut off.
Send for the sword then that it may revenge
So capital a crime.

Mel.
O desperate attempt! come let us flie,
Lets fly, my dearest Cloris, hence from death.

Clo.
Fly thou unto the place that likes thee best;
For I must seek my life by meeting death.
Sir, this man labours but to find the means
To dye for me.
The Ring is mine, and this the neck which now
It hath encompast many years; for see
It bears the fresh impressions of it still.
The Ring is mine, and I—

Niso.
Ah Cloris!

Nar.
Ah me!

Perind.
Shepheards forbear, keep silence, and take heed
That no man dare to move his foot or tongue.

Oront.
Thou Nymph goe on.

Clo.
The Ring is mine, and I was she that threw
The royal image here upon the ground:
And if by dying I may satisfie
For such a foul offence, let no man else
Pay for the forfeit I have made; for I,
Even I too have a head, which once cut off,
And separated from this liveless trunk
Can find a way to fall, and drench in blood
The fatal sword which shall revenge the wrong
Offer'd unto this sacred image here.

Niso.
O peace a while! great Sir she raves for love,
And it will not become you to give ear
Unto the dreams and fancies of a Soul
Grown frantick in her Passion; it is true
And I will not deny but that she hath
Her part in that same fatal ring, but yet
No share at all in the offence; for when,
Or where was it she threw it, or who can
Bear witnesse of the fact? I threw it there,
Just there before you, on that craggy cliffe
Which to the River lends a rugged Path,
I know the place full well.

Per.
'Tis true, and there close by the River side
I took it up.

Niso.
Fillino saw me when I threw it there,
Poor simple Fillino, who wants the wit
To frame a Lie, and he will witnesse it.

Clo.
Cruel! though thou hast rob'd me of
Both life and soul, permit me yet at least
The liberty to die.

Oro.
What do'st thou say Perindo? me thinks now
In these their riper looks, I do perceive
The lively semblance of that sweet aspect
Their younger age did bear.

Niso.
Do'st thou my Phillis haply grieve to see
That I that am thus guilty of thy death,
Should die for any other cause but thine?

Per.
See what a strife love works, sure these are they
These are those pretty little Lovers, mark
How love himself is grown up with their age,
And he that like a Child in Thracia, seem'd
To play the little wanton in affection, now
Shews forth a perfect love, which draws them thus
(Do you observe it) to contend and strive
How death in one may th'other keep alive.

Oron.
Tel me young maid thy name, where wer't thou born?
Who was thy father? tell me that.

Mel.
Her name is Cloris and Melisso mine,
She is my daughter, and we both were born
Within the fruitful fields of Smyrna.

Cloris.
Cloris of Smyrna, and the daughter of
Melisso, I was cal'd, whilst I desir'd,
Under these feigned names, to fly from death,
But now I am no more that Cloris, no
I now am Phillis, and in Thracia
Some time I liv'd, that Phillis I am now,
Whose death thy cruel Lord so much desires.
More of my self I know not, this may serve
If onely now thou aymest at my death.

Oron.
Cheating old dotard, darst thou then to me
With such an impudent, and shameless face
Vent thy pernitious lies?

Mel.
Mercy great Sir, mercy I crave, my life,
Lies now within your power.
Arban of Smyrna, tursted to my care
The charge of this young maid, and to avoyd
Both hers, and his, and mine own danger, thus
I labour'd to conceal the truth.

Oron.
Thou speak'st confusedly still, nor am I yet
Well satisfied in what I did demand.
Tell me in plainer terms, how first she came
To live within thy power.

Mel.
Sir, I will tell you, but restrain a while,
Your just incensed rage: Ah me!

Oron.
Leave off those sighs, and answer me with speed.

Mel.
Then when the King of Smyrna did assault
The Thracians confines with his armed Troops,
One of his men (that Arban, whom but now
I named to you) took as prisoners.
This Nimph then but a child, and with her too,
A Boy about her age.

Niso.
And lo.

Oron.
Peace, not a word, but thou go on.

Mel.
Their looks, their cloaths, and their behaviour
Seem'd to declare their fortune was not mean:
And therefore Arban much delighted with
So rare a booty, fearing least the King
Might afterwards deprive him of his joy,
Keeps them conceal'd: Nor cares he to obey
A strict decree that every souldier should
Deposite in his Royal hands such spoyls,
And all such prisoners, as he had got.
Mean while the King of Thracia, full of rage,
With threatening terms, demands his children back.
Nor can I tell whether that strict demand
Proceeded from desire to see them dead.

Clo.
Oh? did not Arban, tell thee that it did?
Hast thou not told me so a thousand times?
From whence then on a suddain rise these doubts?

Mel.
Arban 'tis true, did tell me so, but yet
Perhaps with art he feign'd it purposely,
You Sir, are like to know.

Oro.
I know full well, proceed

Mel.
The King of Thracia, urgeth his demand
The King of Smyrna, hears no news of them,
And yet desires to send them back to Thrace,
So to appease the high displeasure of
His now incensed enemy, and to obtain
A speedy wisht for peace.
And therefore straight proclames just punishment
To him that should conceal, and large reward
To him that should discover what he sought.
Arban that fear'd his yet conceal'd theft,
At last might come to light, conveighs them both
By night unto the neighbouring mountains, where
He oft times us'd to hunt, and there be chang'd
Their habit, and their names, fully resolv'd
They should unknown lead a rude ruttick life,
In country base attire, and that the one
Might not be by the other sooner known:
To me he gave this maiden and the boy,
Unto Dametas, an inhabitant
Of a remoter tract:
Besides as one that knew 'twas ill to trust
Two loving souls in two such tender breasts,
He made the two young lovers each beleeve,
The other surely dead.

Oron.
And how from Smyrna then, art thou become
A dweller here in Scyros?

Mel.
The fury of the War increased still,
And as if it intended to assault
High heaven it self, it first ascended up
Into those towring hills, and I,
Poor I alas, when I beheld with grief,
An inundation of fierce armed men,
To break in round about, when I beheld
Troops of proud furious horsemen swarm below,
And fill the neighbouring Vales, when I did hear
The shril mouth'd Trumpets eccho from the hills,
With fearfull Birds, and harmlesse heards of Beasts,
I took me to my flight, and hither came,
Where my Progenitors at first did live,
I flying came to Scyros, but Ay me!
Where can we flie from that which Heaven wills,
Since the great power of Heaven all places fills?

Oro.
And of the youth?

Mel.
I can tell nothing more of him.

Niso.
If for his death thou askest after him,
Great sir, he is not far, behold me here,
I am that Thirsis whom Arbano gave
Unto Dametas, and with him I liv'd
Untill last April, when the warmer Sun,
Return'd again to melt the Icy snow,
Then I alone within a steerlesse Bark,
By an impetuous torrent far from help,
Was driven off to sea, where onely fate
Provided me of Sails, and in short space
I know not how, but I was safe convey'd,
And cast upon this Shore.

Clo.
Sir I begin to faint, grief breaks my heart,
And if thou make not hast, it will deprive
Thee of the honour of my death.

Niso.
Give ear to me, Sir, and let her alone
At least till I be dead.

Oro.
I do both hear, and understand enough,
I see that both of you desire to die,
And I wil give you both content.

Per.
Alas, what wil you do Sir?

Oro.
Perindo peace.

Mel.
Ay me, I go, for 'tis not possible
That living I should here behold my death.

Oro.
But let us go unto the Temple straight
That in a place of greater eminence,
And with more solemn pomp, th'Imperial will
Of the Grand Signor may be there fullfil'd,
And see you follow me. come on.

Niso.
O Phillis!

Clo.
O Thirsis, ay me!

Niso.
Sir, if it be resolv'd that by your hand
I shall receive my death, you must resolve
To kill me then, before she dying, force
My soul out of this breast.

Clo.
No, no, if you kill him before I die,
Your Pomp will be but short, for at one blow,
We both shal fall to ground.

Nar.
O cruel strife of love! where cursed death
Leads him in triumph that proves Conqueror.