University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

Enter to them Adrian.
Adr.
Ah Foole art there?

Lys.
(turning about)
Couz Adrian! Is't you?

Adr.
Yes it is, I'me tormented with thy follies;
Art thou come hither then to play thy pranks?
Would thou wer't safe i'th' Hospitall of Fooles!

Lys.
(rising)
Peace; give me leave my reasons to alledg,
(For that should be the refuge of us all)
This gracious Sheepherd here shall be our Judge:
Deciv'd with his perfections I e'en now
Took him for Pan disguised like a mortall,
Nay—look you to't, he hath the countenance,
If not of Pan, of Mercury, or Cupid.

Adr.
Oh Heaven! what Folly, what Extravagance!—

Lys.
You blame the Sheepherds, but alas, too blindly;
Is any life more full of sweets than this?
Is not their Name, as antient as the World?
And when Deucalion would mankinde restore
Out of the first Stone he a Sheepherd made.
And Kings of old (whom I am proud to follow)
Made their Sons Sheepherds, as the way to live.
The Gods, on Earth have often ta'ne that habit,
And great Apollo kept Admetus Sheep,
And even those wandring Starrs, we see above
Are Beasts, that feed within those shining plaines.
And who are fit to keep them but the Gods?
Then, for our Sheep, what is of greater worth?
We feed upon them, sheare them, and receive
The yearly tribute of their wealthy fleeces.
And as they say (the more to be ador'd)
Jove once transform'd himselfe into a Ram,
And Greece ne're knew a nobler enterprize
Than when the Argonauts fetch't home the fleece,
'Tis the first Sacrifice was made to Pan.
This is to let you know, (Couz Adrian)
That though the World revile it, yet to lead
Our Flocks to feed's a noble exercise.
And to what serves your tedious noyse of Cities?
Of Merchants, Officers, or Advocates?
Read Julietta, and then tell me, if
Arcadia ever knew such names as these?
They all were Sheepherds, and liv'd free from care,
And I would have them here to be so govern'd.
Beleeve me (Cousin) leave your City trades,
Let us together dresse our Pastures, bring
Your Wife, your Children,—here you'l live at ease:
Shee shall a Sheepherdesse, they Sheepherds be,
And we will all in perfect pleasures live,
And to the Bag-pipe, under Elmes wee'le dance.

Adr.
Ah (Sir) you see, to what a strange excesse
This poore Phrenetick Spirit is transported,
How much extravagance—

Lys.
(turning from them)
My deare Charita!
If thou dost kill me, give me life againe!

[He retires to a corner of the Stage, where he lies downe.]
Cl.
While he talkes to himselfe, be pleas'd to tell me
The hidden cause of that which troubles him,
I finde his frantick fits, of a strange nature.

Adr.
It's the issue of a vaine, and cursed reading:
His Father was a Merchant and Citizen
Of Paris, and being rich, look't on him onely,
And thinking to provide for him an Office,
T'adorne his innocent, and harmlesse minde,
Caus'd him to Study, where all that he learn't
Was to o'rethrow that little wit he had.
He read Romances onely, and believ'd them,
Admir'd all the Sheepherds fain'd adventures,
And his weake braine by those vaine fables, did
So soon descend in th'Aire of Love, and Beauty:
That in a year or two he thus besotted
Would wilfully assume this present habit:
'Twas labour'd with much reason to convince him,
But he still talkt of Sheep, and of his Crook,
Yet studied more, but thought lesse of his office,
And though he still persisted in his frenzy,
Yet was it worse, when his good Father dy'd:
The Romance of Astræa was then publish't,
Where reading Hylas, and Sylvander's jarres,
His braine being very soft in such a case,
He needs would be their judge, and heare them plead,
And so resolv'd to goe into the Forrests,
And, had not I still caus'd him to be follow'd,
He doubtlesse more had credited his booke,
Than our advice. His Frenzy still continuing,
He oft would lock himselfe into his Chamber,
Where without let, pursuing his wilde fancies,
I've heard him act the Sheepherds part alone.
In fine, the Mode of these Romances ceasing,
His minde a long time seemed lesse distracted,
And certainly that Heat began to coole,
Had he not haunted Comedies last Winter:
When, earnest oft to see their Amaryllis,
H'againe reviv'd his thoughts of Flocks and Crooks.
He drew me too to see that cursed Play;
And cry'd at ev'ry line, O wonderfull!
Scarce could he keep himselfe within his skin,
All seem'd so ravishing, so rarely new:
Never was Man there, more intent than He,
'Twas Acted, and he there an hundred times,
So that imbark'd againe by their leud babling,
And finding time to make his bundle ready,
And all trust up, he early in a morning
Came hither, thus to act his foolish part,
But I shall put such Fetters on him, that
He shall no longer thus dishonour us.

Cl.
His humour's troublesome, but yet take heed
Lest your confining him should breake his quiet:
A Prison's terrible to soundest mindes,
And the diseas'd it oft exasperates.

Adr.
'Tis true; but what amendment can I hope?

Cl.
If you'l advise with me, let him alone,
What do'st concerne you here? Y'are farre from Paris,
Let him accomplish what he has design'd,
Let him pursue this Sally of his thoughts,
Perhaps a week, or so, may cure his folly,
And he not finding in a Sheepherd's life,
The fancied pleasures that entic'd him to it,
It may more easie prove to make him see
The errour, which his books did first create.

Adr.
Well, for a day or too I'le leave him then,
Although I came by chance into this place,
And have gone very farre to finde him out.
M'affaires engage me to a quick returne,
Th'are pressing, and of great importance to me.

Ex.
Cl.
Farewell; I'le have a care he shall not wander.