University of Virginia Library

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.