University of Virginia Library

Scene 3.

Sylvander.
Victorious Archer, whose self-pleasing Spoiles
Filleth my Bosome with these homebred broiles!
Accept thy Conquest: I do not resist;
But 'gainst a yeilding Heart no more insist:
Why represent'st thou still her glorious trayn
Of charming Graces to reinforce my Pain?
I 'fore thy shrine, like innocent victime stand;
To sacrifice my self with mine own hand.
Thus sporting in thy Flame, like silly flie,
I singe my wings, and for that Folly die.
If this the sacred Storehouse of thine Arms
I have by stealth attempted, Mine own harms
Punish that Crime; while rashly I aspire,
Prometheus Pain must follow my Desire.
If for some Gods Abode this Structure's rais'd,
M' Impiety's punish't o're curiously t'ave gaz'd,
While this Diana's presence I invade;
Unto my rav'nos thoughts I am betraid;
Is, as her worth, thou seek'st t'inlarge Despaire,
I will, with thee, against my self prepare
This second Fuel: Her too much worth implies,
That I must prove her double Sacrifice.
Yet, Love, thou art too covetous b' unjust force
He seemes to lye him down to sleep.
All Duties to thy self thus to ingross:
Forget not Natures rights, lest hers orethrown,
Thou do'st thy self deprive thee of thine Own.

Leonida, Celadon.
Leonida.
Leonida and Celadon appear upon the Scene with a womans garment loosly cast about him.
By this Disguise from those Bonds I thee free,
Which all, (neglecting all) court, Sov'raignty:
Nor wonder I, that thou do'st it despise,
Thou more Subject'st with those commanding Eyes;
Yet foolish I, thus to obey thy will,
Steal thee from other; but my self do kill:

Celadon.
Fair Nymph, do not that Beauty so debase,
To sue, who should be sought to; nor deface
The image of that Love, I did discover;
I know you'd not accept a faithless Lover.

Leonida.
Well; since to other destin'd is that heart,
Gentle Swayn, vouchsafe me this to impart,
That in your mem'ry friendly place I have.

Celadon.
Worth'est of Friends, ev'n such unto my grave,
Else may Heav'ns heav'est Veng'ance me persue.
A thousand Thankes.

They imbrace. Exit Leonida.
Leonida,
A thousand times adue.

Celadon.
Alas! my flight my Prison but extend's,
Since with my life my Bondage only end's.
Can the World's vastest limits other be,
Forbad b' Astræa Astræa not to see.
Thus being depriv'd my Sun, Dayes clearest light
Shall be to me but as the blackest Night.
I'le in this Desert seek some hollow Cave
Shall be to me a Mansion, and a Grave.
Asleep! if Griefe these lights have not ore'thrown,
He spies Sylvander asleep.
Surely, me thinks this Shepherd I have known.
It is Sylvander, whose yet closed Lids,
His Sorrows swelling Ruptures not forbid's:
Alas, poor Friend! I have heard of the change
Thou hast made of thy Peace; nor think it strange,
Thy Heart hath still harbor'd noblest Desires:
And such Love thinketh fittest for his fires:
Yet may'st thou happier therein be then I,
VVhose only Love prove's only Misery.
Th'occasions fair; I will it not debate,
I feel the hasty Summons of my Fate,
Though Celadon b' exil'd Astræas sight,
He puts his hand in his scrip, takes out pen and paper, and writes, and folds it up.
Yet sure t'Astræa Celadon may write.
More happy paper! haste unto her hand,
Not to recall her over-harsh Command,
But to assure her, since such is her VVill,
Approaching Death her Sentence shall fulfill:
While, unrepining, Hers I do depart,
Though ruder Fate hath rob'd me of her Heart.
If but one tear her cheek thou chance to lave,
I wish no other Monument to my Grave;
To thee, Sylvander, this office I commend,
Puts it in his hand and goes out. Wakens and rising discovers the letter: He reads it.
Ev'n as the last any shall me befrend.

Sylvander.
Ha! a letter! am I asleep, or wake?
If I still dream not, how came I this to take:

To the most lov'd and most fair Shepherdess of
the universe, The most unfortunate, and
most faithful of her Servants, wisheth that
weale, which Fortune him denies.

My extream Affection shall neuer consent to give
the name of Pain or Punishment to what by your Command
I suffer: Nor shall ever permit Complaint to
come from that mouth was only destin'd for your Praise:
But It may permit me to say, that the State wherein I
am (which an Other would perhaps, think insupportable)
contenteth me; in so much as I know, you will, and ordain
It such. Be not scrupulous to extend yet farther (if
possible) your commands; I shall still continue my Obedience,
to the end that if my Life hath not been capable
to assure my fidelity, my Death may.

'Tis doubtless I; the Demon guardes my Soul,
Reading my passion, doth it here inroule.
To the most fair; Diana must be she:
Looks upon the letter.
And most belov'd; that, sure is meant of me.
Then she, n' other object such love can give:
Then I, n' other subject such love receive.
Thanks my good Geni'us; better skilld then I,
With their own figure dost my thoughts supply.