University of Virginia Library

Actus secundus.

Scæna prima.

Enter Lucida, Montenor, (like a Sheepherd.)
Lucid.
A little complaisance, and Sheepherds habit
Seeme to engage you in designes of Love,
But pray no more of this disguise with me,
Impose not this constraint upon your selfe
And believe, without speaking more of Love,
Your worth's sufficient to gaine esteeme.

Monten.
Hath the mild violence of a love so pure
So little power to perswade you then?
And since your faire eyes set me all a fire
T'avow it is complacencie enough.

Lucid.
Thus credulous Spirits are too easy taken,
And though men are all Ice they'l sweare they burne,
But this discourse of fire proves little heat;
The more you say, the lesse I do believe.

Mon.
Your humour's contrary to Lovers hopes;
How can you know their flames if they keep silence?
And if they speake they are believ'd deceitfull.

Lucid.
Love hath an ideome to explaine it selfe
I'th' midst of silence, it speaks, and perswades,
And its least motion's fill'd with Eloquence.
One sigh oft in a moment utters much,
He must speake low whom th'heart not understands.

Mon.
If th'heart so well Love's language apprehend,
Would yee have clearer evidence of mine?
My heart hath sigh't an hundred times near you,
My languishing as often hath declar'd it,
And daring not t'express the wounds you gave me,
I oft strove to interpret with mine eyes;
But their sad looks could not express their story:
And, though some foolish hope may dare presume,
The cunning'st sighs have but dumb Eloquence
If th'heart consent not to its own surprize,
Nor can their correspondence well consist,
If Love perswade them not to lend an eare.

Lucid.
Then that's the cause I have not understood
What you pretend, your sighs have signified:
But two or three piping, and dying groanes,
Have often prov'd false pleadings of true love,
And since you see I understand it not,
You happily do seek advantage by it.

Mon.
Doubt not an Heart so subject to your Lawes;
Be witnesse all you Trees within these Groves
How oft alas, there, seeking solitude,
I've entertain'd them with my sighs and groanes,
How oft I've boasted of that glorious power,
Your eyes in secret practice on my soule.
How oft rehearst the wounds their beames have given me.

Lucid.
When they tell me so, Ile believe my share.

Mon.
Cruel, is this then all that I can now—

Lucid.
Hircan's my Brother, I depend on him.

Mon.
Judge better of my flame, and know though 'tis
Extreame, 'twill ow your heart to none but you:
And that 'twill use in the pursuit none but—

Lucid.
Peace Montenor, the company is coming.

Scene II.

Enter to them Angelica, Anselme, Charita.
Ang.
Sheepherds believ't my joy's beyond compare,
(To Mon. and Lucid.)
To see you so well act the Sheepherds part;
Blush not Lucida, Phillis and Lycidas,
Were often wont to single out each other,
And great Diana nere refus'd to talk
With Paris, or Syliander from the rest.

Lucid.
You make a just construction, yet I doubt
Who ere accuses me, may do the same,
If Polidor's discourse had pleas'd you lesse,
You would perhaps have sooner found us out.

Mont.
Sister, she hits you home with her reply.

(To Angel.
Angel.
Sh'as reason, I confesse, for what she sayes:
Our coming sooner might have more disturb'd ye,
Had he had nothing private to say to me.

Char.
Thus may all four (methinks) live full content,
Mean while I have my share among ye too,
While sweets on sweets are heaped up for you,
I'm fain to entertain my selfe with thoughts.

Angel.
Yet we are taught to understand thy worth,
Whose beauty has, this day, begot such Rivals.

Char.
Build not so much upon anothers ruine,
My time perhaps may come as well as yours.

Angel.
I were an Infidel if I should doubt it,
Since Clarimond becomes a Sheepherd for thee.

Char.
Knowing, that for my sake, our foole thus sighs,
He ought at least to swear't for laughters sake.
Yet faith, let him dissemble as he please,
Wee'l see at last how well he will escape.

Angel.
Thou never speak'st to thine own disadvantage.

Char.
I hate the foolish use of a false vertue;
Who from himselfe expects nought, nought receives.
Methinks our Rival-Sheepherds tarry long.

Ansel.
'Tis here that Lysis leads his Flock to feed,
And we shall see him here ere it be long.

Angel.
He has a Language may be call'd his own.

Ans.
His discourse heretofore was lesse unsmooth,
But since he Virgil read, in Bumbast verse,
His Tongue is laden with Fantastique Words,
And thinks that all the Gods speak just the same,
And concludes that the best of Dialects.

Angel.
He has an empty skull.—

Char.
So dull a head!
That he could not discern me by my voice,
When I instead of Echo answered him.

Mon.
Can he endure your jesting, being mad?
But—hist,—I heare him sing.

Lucid.
Pray hide your selves,
And be spectators of our raillery;
Ile give him now his belly-full of Love.

Angel.
Nay hold, pray first let's heare his courtly Aire.

(They all hide themselves behinde the Trees, except Lucida, who accosts him after he hath sung.)

Scene III.

Lys.
sings.

Lucid.
Faire object of my flames, and my misfortune,
May this day prove more blest to Thee than Me!

Lys.
In vain thy flame, troublesome Sheepherdess,
Doth claime a compliment, not meant to thee.

Lucid.
When wilt thou cease, thus to make War upon me?
And lay aside these scornes that break my heart?

Lys.
When Elmes shall the embrace of Ivy flie,
And rav'nous Wolves with Lambs live peacefully.

Lucid.
Though thy severity doth still encrease,
Ile be the same that ever I profest.

Lys.
Ixion heretofore embrac'd a Cloud,
And so Lucida may embrace the Wind.

Lucid.
The raging Seas at last will leave their fury,
So may thy hatred have a time to cease.

Lys.
As Rocks unshaken stand against those billows,
So is my heart unmoved by thy love.

Lucid.
For Pan's sake, Sheepherd, and the Hamadriads,
Refuse me not a civil entertainment.

Lys.
If they the maladies of Love can cure,
Th'hadst best go offer up thy vowes to them.

Lucid.
'Mong Scythians fierce, at thy Nativity,
Thy heart was fill'd with Ice, nothing can thaw it.

Lys.
Derive me (if thou wilt) from Caucasus,
So thou no more disturb me with thy Love.

Lucid.
May thy best Sheep be left a prey to Wolves.
If thus to rigour thou expose my Soule!

Lys.
I'l suffer them to come within my folds,
When thou shalt have possession of my heart.

Lucid.
Thou Tyger, nurst up by a Tygress fierce,
Thy proud disdaine will open me my grave.

Lis.
So farre am I from a designe to kill thee,
I never had a thought to touch thy skin.

Lucid.
Thou dost distract my soule, and thy sharp talons,
Soon as I see thee, teare it into pieces.

Lys.
I know not how to patch up a torn soule,
And, prithee, what should I do with the pieces?

Lucid.
You may cement them but with one sweet word,
And from an Hell of woes raise me to Heaven.

Lys.
If such a thing as that can cure thy folly,
Of Honey, or of Sugar take thy choice.

Lucid.
Grant either of them to my constancy,
Of Hope the Sugar, of thy Faith the Honey.

Ly.
If thy fond constancy do Hony need,
Farewell—you must seek other Bees than Me.

Lucid.
Stay thou bright Torch of my too am'rous life,
Suffer my flames at least to live in hope.

Ly.
Thy life's in danger to be wondrous dark,
If I'm the Torch that must enlighten it.

Lucid.
If for thy high deserts, that name's too low,
Be thou Apollo, and vouchsafe to cure me.

Ly.
Thanks to thee (Sylvia) I must be gone;
If I'm the Sun I must be ever running.

Scene IV.

Enter (to them) Angel, Anselm. Montenor, Charita.
Angel.
Whither so fast, good Sheepherd?

Ly.
Prudent Nymph,
I'm in Retreat before mine Enemy.

Char.
Will not Lucida speak to us to day?

(Lucida going aside, as if unwilling to be surpris'd with Lysis.)
Ly.
No, let her stay a while behind those bushes,
(To Charit.)
And give her time to recollect her Soule
From th'trouble of her late rejected flame.

Angel.
She then persists to persecute you stil.

Ly.
Any but Lysis would be tempted by her,
But though her love of me doth still afflict her,
Charita's still Charita, she Lucida.

Char.
And since my Sheepherd all contemnes for me,
He has most really my heart, and faith,
Our soules are both possest with equall flames.

Lys.
Truce to these sweets a while—you ravish me!
Oh.—

Cha.
Sigh yee?

Ly.
Sheepherdess my care—
'Tis a precaution that I thus doe sigh,
Lest too much ardour should at once surprize me,
And I soone finde my heart reduc'd to ashes,
By the too active flames of my desires.
Did not the Air of these my sighs refresh it.

Lu.
Why talk ye with the Honour of our plains?

(returning to the Stage.)
Ch.
We talk of Meddows, pastures, and of Flocks,
We must dissemble—

(To Lysis softly.)
Ly.
And we likewise talk
(Pointing at Charita.)
Of that faire shining eye, that caus'd my griefe,
Yes, of thine eye divine, thou charming beauty!

Ang.
Such language, Sheepherd, does affront your Mistris,
The brightnesse of her eyes, you see's not common,
They both can charme, and yet you praise but one.
What Rapsodie of love doth make you talk so?

Ly.
Why I assume the language of the Poets.
This style to them was ever held peculiar,
I purposely, like them, spoke but of one,
But yet with no designe t'offend my fairest;
For either of those Suns afford me light,
And when I sweare her faire ey's skill'd to charme,
I speake no more o'th' left than of the right

Ans.
What say you now Nymph?

(To Angel.)
Angel.
'Tis a prudent answer.

Ly.
Silence!—I heare farre off a Bagpipe's sound.—
Oh how melodious!—

(Enter Clarimond like a Sheepherd.)
Mon.
'Tis by a young Sheepherd,
Who not long since arriv'd from a strange Country.

Ly.
'Tis true, his habit's different from ours.

Ansel.
To live amongst us he assum'd another,
He's here.

Scene V.

Mon.
You then desire, gentle Sheepherd,
(To Clarimond)
Henceforth to dwell with us, in these faire Plaines?
Your change of Habit makes me so presume.

Clar.
I'm come for cure of my consuming flames.

Angel.
Sheepherd, I then perceive you are in love.

Clar.
Ah—'tis too true, I languish night and day;
But say (I pray) before I tell my story,
Doe I not talk with the Nymph Angelica?

Angel.
Yes, if on her depends your Remedy,
She's ready here to give you all assistance.

Clar.
Great Drudge! fam'd for thy mirac'lous art,
I here attend thy Oracles effects!
Love make thee now propitious to my fires!—

Angel.
What charming object forc'd from you that sigh?

Clar.
Alas! that I dare not presume to tell you

Angel.
Sheepherd, you may, nor feare to hurt,
All here partake already of your griefe.

Clar.
I adore her in Idea though unknown.

Ly.
Not know her?

Clar.
Heare the story of my life;
My name is Philiris, in Arcadia born.

Ly.
That Country alwaies fruitfull was in Sheepherds;
But to heare't better, let us all sit round,
It is the Pastorall Order.

Angel.
Take your place.—
Here's green Turf.—

(They all sit down, Lysis lying at Charita's feet.)
Ly.
Oh my dear Sun—for Heaven's sake,
Mod'rate thy Rayes, or thou wilt quite consume me.

Angel.
Come now (Sir) all are silent, you may speak.

Clar.
Know them great Nymph, and you faire sheepherdesse,
You gentle Sheepherds—such are my misfortunes—
In that blest Climate where I first took birth,
Pan is less fear'd than is the God of Love:
For that no Hearts, no Sheepherds are so great,
Whom that fierce Tyran doth not make his Slave:
(And would to the just Heavens that I could do but
Whether his yoak be easie to be born)
But yet admire by what strange prodigie
My freedome's subject to his cruell lawes;
Sitting one day beneath a shady Elme,
Free from all care, although I kept my Flock,
Surpriz'd with sleep, congested beames of light,
Depriv'd my senses of their wonted vigour,
And then discover'd to my blinded eyes,
A precious treasure of unheard-of charms:
A Sheepherdess, in whom the Graces seem'd
To chuse their places, as if there enthron'd
A lovely Arrogance, a noble State
Seem'd sweetness there to joyn with Majesty.
Nere did the Gods in a more noble frame,
Set forth the Image of their Deitie:
Oh—Nymph—I saw her, judge then how I lov'd her,
How with those sudden flames my heart was fir'd;
And what strength the surprizall of my sense
Could leave me, to resist her charms assaults!
But sad Catastrophe! when day was ended,
I found my Error so, but not my Love.
My soule possest of so great rarities,
When I awak'd still kept their strong Idea,
But so confus'dly, that I never could
Retrive the Object, where those Beauties shin'd,
Yet still I lov'd that imperfect Idea.
Here did my freedom finde its overthrow,
And from that instant I am so in love,
That I have no esteem for other objects.
Thus forc'd to love, and without hope of comfort,
I am constrain'd to burn, and yet be silent.
But though this sad constraint augments my pain,
I must detect the secrets of my heart:
A famous Drudge, that when he is private,
Seemes daily to interpret Destiny:
Was th'Oracle Divine, that by these words,
First gave my wav'ring spirit some repose.
(He riseth, and as it were suddenly surprized with a new light, continues his addresse to Charita.)
But Gods! What see I now? What rayes of light,
That in an instant thus unfeele mine eyes?
Oh Sheepherdess, 'tis you that thus have charm'd me,
Your wonderfull Idea 'twas thus inflam'd me:
You are the lovely object of my sighs,
You who—.

Ly.
Soft, Sheepherd, you are pleas'd to say so,
Goe to Arcadia there to act your Trances:
Charita is my Mistris.

Clar.
And mine too.

Char.
This heat is very quick.

Clar.
Yet 'tis extream.—

Ly.
Pitty thy selfe, for Heaven's sake honest Sheepherd,
If I'm thy Rivall, what hope's left for thee?

Cla.
Some promise to themselves more than they get.

Ly.
My flame as the more ancient shall prevaile.

Clar.
That which I feel is full as great as thine:
Tis more than three yeares since my heart was wounded.

Angel.
Gods how this wonder does amaze my thoughts!
What sayes Lucida?

Lucid.
The Sheepherd does deserve
For all these services Charita's love,
And to possesse her heart.

Ly.
What you plead for him?
Ah—Nymph, I die, at least am very near it—

Clar.
To lose no time in frivolous disputes,
Let's see what deeds will answer all these words,
My passion prompts me to a glorious project;
Charita is the object of our Loves,
And both of us sigh equally for her;
And since the cause of our dispute's so faire,
Let Combat here decide it in her sight,
And shew which of us doth deserve her best,
She shall be judge.

Ly.
Agreed, it shall be so.
Renounce her for a few dry bangs o'th' Crook?

—aside.
Char.
You will be Conqueror.

(To Lys.)
Ly.
I do not doubt it,
If thy faire eye stand second to mine arm:
Pan give the victory to my boundlesse love,
And I will hang his Crook between thy Horns!
Sheepherd prepare thy self—
(As he puts himselfe into a posture to fight with his Crooke; Clar. drawes out a Sword hid within his Crook.)
But what means this.
A sword? Art mad thus to defend thy self?

Clar.
T'enjoy Charita you must take my life:
Think of death onely.

Ly,
I have no such thought.
I'm a Sheepherd of Honour, and no Murtherer:
Besides, though I were nere so stout in fight,
What can my Sheepherd arm against a sword?

Ans.
Courage brave Sheepherd, I will make 'em equal,
(Taking likewise a Sword out of his Crook presents it Lys.)
Too happy to oblige the best of Lovers.

Ly.
Oh Villain Sheepherds with their iron tooles!

(aside.
Ansel.
Here take this sword.

Ly.
Not I.

Mon.
Desperate Lysis,
Refuse a Combate for Charita's sake!
Why all the world must know this cowardize!

Ly.
And why? I've heart enough to serve my turn:
But—

Mon.
But what?

Ly.
What need ye press me farther?
Ile not infringe our customes for a world.

Ansel.
What custome is't you mean?

Ly.
Where can you shew me,
That ever any Sheepherds fought with Swords?

Mon.
Yes, once Filander for Diana fought.

Ly.
True, to secure her from prophane assaults;
But yet he fought with Slings, and to his cost.

Angel.
W'ave said too muh t'excite this Sheepherds valour;
His want of love appeares to faire Charita,
For his refusall gives her up, and quits her.
Brave stranger, come the victory is yours.

Clar.
How much that sweet Decree makes me your Debter.

Angel.
And thou ingrateful Sheepherd that dost fear
To shed one drop of thy ignoble blood,
And durst not hazard for thy Love that little
Was wanting, to orecome and to possesse her:
Go, it's apparent now thou wert a Traitour;
Dare not to come hereafter in our sight.
Sheepherds let's go.

Ly.
Ah cruell hearted Nymph!
Than Myrmidon, or Dollope more fell.

Char.
Farewell sad Sheepherd.

Ly.
Ah what dost thou say?

Char.
The sentence being past we must subscribe.

Ly.
Dost thou forsake me then?

Char.
I'm in despaire;
Yet may the Gods permit us meet again:
In th'mean time die not, but live still assur'd,
Thou nere shalt see thy Rivall in thy place.

Ly.
Flatter my woes at least by sighing for me.

Char.
I grieve for both of us—but no more sighs;—
My heart is so lockt up I cannot do it.

Ly.
Oh of all faire Ones the most unrelenting!

Char.
Perhaps you suffer least in this our parting:
Farewell—Pan comfort and dwell ever with thee.

Ex.

Scene VI.

Lys.
Let's yeild to Fate and satisfie her rage,
And end our daies within some salvage den:
Farewell ye dearest places, and my flocks,
Which feeding I have left on yonder hill,
Y'ennamel'd meddowes, which too apt to please,
Have furnisht me with flowrs t'adorn my Love:
And pleasant streames farewell, despairing Lysis
I'th' horrour of these Woods will ever dwell.
Good Gods! how thick, how dark it is! I think
No Sheepherd ere its silence did disturb:
Hence all prophane—take heed you come not neare;
I feare to touch them as I crosse these bushes—
Oh—th'are the rusling leaves—I think I see
A man that walks there with a staffe in's hand,
And murm'ring to himselfe, does seem to read.

(He perceives Hircan walking (after the Country-fashion) with a Cane in his hand, reading.)
Lys.
Doubtless it is a Druyde skil'd in Magick—
I must accost him.

Scene VII.

Hyrcan. Lys.
Lys.
Great and learned Druyde,
If that divinity, that here presides,
Did ever comfort an unhappy Sheepherd,
Vouchsafe thine aide to offer him my vowes.

Hircan.
This certainly's that Fool with's Pastoral life,
(aside.)
Whose pleasant madnesse is so much discours'd.
May'st thou be so content as thy offerd vowes
Ought to be heard, by those great Gods I serve,
Hæsus and Taramis are to Sheepherds kinde.

Lys.
I'mbrace the happy auspicies to see you,
And for so rich a blessing thanke my fate:
Daigne then to cast your eyes on a poor Lover,
All's possible to you, move but your staffe,
And nature straight is subject to your Lawes.

Hircan.
He takes me for a conjurer. Ile comply
With his mistake—Sheepherd all shall be well;
Thy griefs shall be redrest what ere they be,
(makes a circle with his Cane)
All things give way to this mysterious charm,
Ask, and be sure I can do any thing.

Ly.
No Sheepherd's so unfortunate as I,
By th'fatall sentence of a cruell power,
I'm banisht from the house of Angelica;
So lose Charita, and must never dare
Henceforth, so much as to approach those walls.

Hircan.
And is't this banishment that so afflicts thee?

Ly.
Was ever Lover more severely punisht!
I, in despaire of aid, enter'd these Woods,
Against me to provoke the Beares and Tygers.
But if by Magick skill, you shall vouchsafe
To let me see my Love at Angelica's,
By rendring me invisible or transform'd.—

Hircan.
This is the easiest secret of my Art:
All w'ave to do is to disguise your sex,
To cheat the Nymph, and see your Sheepherdess
Take womans habit, and go thither weeping,
Require them to relieve your great misfortunes,
Fain that the fatall influence of your starres.—

Lys.
This Metamorphosis is very Past'rall:
So once Austræa did embrace Alcais,
Not knowing that 'twas Celadon disguis'd.
But to appeare a Maid indeed, how shall I
Be rid of this excrescence of my beard?
How shall I this correct?

Hircan.
That's a slight Scruple;
Oh—let thy beard alone, feare nothing, I
Can by my Art give thee the countenance
Of a yong Sheepherdesse, extremely faire.
Thy maine so modest, and thy port so taking
Charita scarce can be a minute from thee.
Then judge thy happiness, shee's sure thine own.

Lys.
What priviledge shall I have thus disguis'd?
I am impatient till it be accomplisht.

Hircan.
Let's to my Palace to begin the work.

Ex.