University of Virginia Library

ACTUS 2.

Bellinda sola.
The Scene, a Wood or Boscage.
Bellinda.
Ye aged Oaks, the semi-gods abodes,
and who your selves in ancient times were Gods;
and solitary Woods, whose walks and shade
Lovers so oft their confidents have made,
whilst never did your walks nor shades disclose
either a Lovers joyes, or Lovers woes:
You I dare trust with secrets, which I ne're
durst trust with any since my coming here:
I love,—but Oh! if any list'ning ear
shu'd have o'reheard me now, as 'tis my fear!
And see where this inquisitive Nymph do's come?
Wo'd she were deaf, or else that I'de been dumb.

Fi.
I faith, I faith.
(Enter Filena.
I'me glad I've found you.

Bell.
Why?

Fi.
For now 'tis clear you love.

Bell.
How so?—'tis as I fear'd,
she has o'reheard me.

(Aside.
Fi.
These very trees and woods declare it.

Bel.
Ay me! this 'tis to trust ones minde
(aside.
with trees, whose leaves whisper with every wind;
with woods, whose very walks & shades have ears,
and babbling Eccho that tells all it hears.

Fi.
She fears, 'tis a good sign, Ile urge her further—
your solitude and retirement too confirms it;
for no Nymph here
retir'd from company ever walks alone;
but Love is still gentle companion of
her solitary thoughts.

Bell.
If that be all, 'tis well.

(Aside.
Fi.
And why shu'd you with so much caution now
conceal this from me? as I did not know
how Love did all things out of chaos make,
and all to chaos wo'd agen turn back:
If all things did not love, from Gods and men
to senseless and inanimate things agen;
and what a monster shu'd Bellinda prove,
if onely she of all things did not love?

Bel.
Of all the Nymphs that ever spoke with tongue,
this Nymph has Magick I must bless me from!

Fi.
Where is the friendship y've so long profest
to make me such a stranger to your breast?

Bel.
Trust me dear friend, if what you say be true,
I am more stranger to my breast then you.

Fi.
See how you blush now when you tell me so!

Bel.
Ay me! mine own blushes betray me too!
What is it can be secret in a Lover,
when even their blushes do their Loves discover?

Fi.
What and sigh too! nay then you love, 'tis clear,
for, but for Love, none ever sighed here.

Bel.
my sighs betray me too! how many traytors
have Lovers about them?

(Aside.
Fi.
But why shu'd yôu sigh! you live happily;
and sighs are for the miserable, such as I:—
Palemon loves yôu, and so loves you too,
as he even pines away for Love of you;
consumes with grief, languishes with despair,
melts into tears, and sighs himself to air;
faith, give him some comfort e're you go
unto the Temple, sweet Bellinda do;
poor Youth, he's in so desperate estate,
I fear, lest after it may come too late.

Bel.
What greater comfort can he expect of me,
then that, if any i'th' Isle I love, 'tis he?

Fi.
Poor comfort, that it shall be him alone,
if any i'th' Isle you love, if you love none;
this is to mock his hopes; and they deny
rather then grant, who promise doubtfully.

Bell.
More (Filena) I neither will nor can
give him, until I go to th'Temple anon,
and there consult the Gods what I shu'd do.

Fi.
Consult your own thoughts rather,
and your minde.

Bell.
'Tis not easie as you think to finde
the source and origin of our thoughts and minde;
of which t'one is so deep, t'other so high,
as there are Opticks made to pierce the sky,
plummets to sound the bottom o'th' ocean;
but for to pierce and sound a heart there's none.

Within.
Bellinda, Bellinda.

Bell.
Here! who calls?

(Enter Polydor.
Pol.
'Tis I.

Fi.
Gentle Polydor,
what news from th'Temple w'ye?

Pol.
Nothing, but onely all's prepared there
for th'grand solemnity, and onely fair
Bellinda's presence expected.

Bell.
If't be so,
let us away.

Pol.
Soft, 'tis not time to go this hour yet.

Bell.
And that a day will seem to be
a moneth, a year, a very age to me.

(Exit joyfully.
Pol.
D'ye think she loves?

Fi.
I know not, let's divine,
and joyn your observations to mine:—
D'ye mark with how great joy away she went?
none goes so chearfully to banishment.

Pol.
But if her body's here, and mind elsewhere,
'tis she does banish us, and not we her.

Fi.
Well, if she love, I wonder at her art
can carry fire so smother'd in her heart,
as none nor by the flame nor smoak can know
whether sh'ave any in her breast or no.

Pol.
And if she do not love agen, then she
of all the Nymphs I yet did ever see,
the most my admiration does move,
t'have so much beauty, and so little love.

Fi.
I'le follow and observe her better.

Pol.
Do,
and I'le but stay awhile and follow you.

(Exit Filena. Enter Pamphilus.
Pam.
That Wench!
that wench wo'd I give a limb for now,
though I halted to an Hospital for it, (and there
are many have ventur'd as far for wenches as that
comes to) I must needs have her, and hê here
shall be my Agent in the business.—
D'ye hear, d'ye hear Sir, a word with you I pray.

Pol.
With me! your pleasure Sir?

Pam.
D'ye know that Nymph there?

Pol.
Very well, what then?

Pam.
Why then I shu'd desire
your better acquaintance;
for look ye, suppose a man
shu'd have a minde unto her.

Pol.
A minde, what minde?

Pam.
Why, a moneths minde or so.

Pol.
Why then, after a moneth you may be rid of't

Pam.
I hope Sir you do not mock me?

Pol.
Indeed Sir, but I do,—
you must pardon me.

Pam.
'Tis well you confess it, and ask my pardon,
I shu'd be very angry else, I can tell you

Pol.
This is some simple stranger, ignorant of
our manners and customs, rather meriting
pitty then anger.

(Aside.
Pam.
He understands nothing but plain
(aside.
down-right language I see, that calls every thing
by its right name:—Well Sir, since I perceive
you are a little dull, in plainer terms
I'de fain—you understood me.

(Whispers.
Pol.
How Sir!

Pam.
Even so Sir,

Pol.
D'ye know where you are?

Pam.
Why, in Love's Kingdom, where shu'd I be?

Pol.
But not
in Lusts—remember that.

Pam.
Pox a these nice
distinctions! that onely serve to break
Dunces heads, and keep Maidenheads so long,
till they are quite marr'd:—Come, come, I know
no other love but what I've told you.

Pol.
Then you must be taught,
and learn other language too, or else this Isle
(I can tell you) will prove too hot for you.

Pam.
Wo'd the Nymphs were not so cold,
and let the Isle be what it will.

(Aside.
Pol.
And now to instruct you a little better, know
that for all lewd and lascivious speeches we
have a gentle punishment here, called whipping.

Pam.
Gentle d'ye call it?

Pol.
And for fowl libidinousness,
an other excellent remedy call'd castrating
that takes it clear away.

Pam.
Clear with a witness,
bless me and all mine from it:
why this is cruel sir—
have you no regard then to peoples infirmities?

Pol.
O yes, a special one, for your wild and unruly
heats of youth, w'ave an admirable way
of cooling 'um, by marrying 'um unto
old women of fourscore, there's a cooler for you.

Pam.
A cooler with a vengeance! ah ha!
it makes my teeth chatter in my head to think of it
but sure sir y'are not in earnest all this while?

Pol.
It seems sir you love to jest, but look to't, and
say y'ad fair warning;—and so farewel.

(Exit.
Pan.
Farewel quoth ye?
marry 'tis time to bid farewel indeed
if this be so, whipping, castrating, and
marrying to old women of fourscore!
a great consolation for a man that loves
a wench; but he said all this sure
onely to fright me;
yet let him say what he will,
woo'd I had that wench say I.
Enter Amaranthe, Cloria, Lydia, Melissa, &c.
Whow? her comes a whole ocean of them!
now am I in my element, and I shall wallow
like a Porposs amongst them.

Am.
What my Platonick Philosopher,
and Anteplatonick Lover agen?

Pam.
'Slid is she there? I'd best be gon then, I'm
as feard of her as a dog is of a whip.

Am.
What is he going? I must needs have
some sport with him before he goes.—
Hark ye, hark ye sir, pray stay a little.

Pam.
Now will she trappan me
into a whipping, I'm sure;
yet I am such a fool I must needs tarry.

Am.
These nymphs here wo'd be glad
of your better acquaintance:

Pam.
With all my heart.

Lyd.
What means Amarinthe?

Am.
Come nearer, nearer yet; now nymphs
look on him (I pray) and mark him well.

Pam.
This goes well hitherto—
I must prepare my self to court um now.

Am.
And now be't known unto you all,
he's one whom y'are to bless your selves from, as
from some ghost or goblin.—

Pam.
How's this?

Am.
For he'l haunt you,
haunt you worse then they,
and stick t'ye faster then burrs, or rather pitch
that defiles all it touches: there is no
purifying your selvs a month after h'as once been
in your company.

Mel.
Bless us from him!

Pam.
The devil's in her:
in what a fair way of courtship was I, and how
sh'as put me out of it?

Am.
Yet (wo'd ye think it?)
he imagins all the nymphs are in love with him,
nay will swear it, if they look but on him once,
and then talk so lewdly, as shews him all
groom and foot-boy within,
however without he appears a Gentleman.

Pam.
She'l make me all groom
and foot-boy presently, she'as half
transformed me already.

Am.
Nay, hold up your head sir,
and ben't asham'd of your commendations.

Pam.
Commendations d'ye call it? I wonder what
are your reproaches, if these be your commendations.

(Aside.
Lyd.
Sure Amaranthe you wrong him.

Pam.
I indeed,
does she sweet heart,

Lyd.
Forbear, and know your distance Sir.

Am.
Nay he's like
a Spannel, hold him at arms end, or he'l
be in your bosom presently.

Mel.
Nay, now y'are too cruel.

Am.
If he wo'd either spare
his own or others modesty, I wo'd be
content to spare him yet?

Pam.
I must suffer I see.

Am.
But see Theotimus coming,—cultivating
our youth, and sowing in their tender mindes
the seeds of all our future happiness, for
'tis not the culter o'th' Land, but of the minde
makes people happy;
and as that's done well or ill,
so they are happy or unhappy still.

Enter Theotimus, Chorus of Musicians, and young Virgins, Diophantes, Evander, &c.
The.

Chor.
sings.
O fly then far
Glances that are
But outward signs, by which we finde
The inward temper of the minde;
And rowling eyes do but betray
A heart that rowls as well as they.

Pam.
Hei day, now will these wenches wear
their eyes like spectacles on their noses, and
look as demurely as Cows in bon-graces.

The.

Chor.
sings.
O fly then far
Kisses that are
Like Bees that suck all sweetness from ye;
Let 'um once but light upon you:
And womens lips with kissing us'd,
Will look but just like Cherries bruis'd.

Pam.
Now will these wenches lips grow
as cold as dogs noses, if they leave off kissing once.

The.

Chor.
sings.
O fly then far
Touches that are
So blasting, as the lightest touch
Will soon your fresher beauties smutch;
And once but tainted in your hue,
You well may bid the world adieu.

Pam.
'Tis time to bid the world adieu indeed,
if there be no touching 'um.

Th.
Now that we ben't expected there,
'tis time to th'Temple to repair:—
set forwards there before.

(Exeunt.
Manent Diophantes, Evander, Pamphilus, Amaranthe, Cloria, Lydia, Melissa.
Ev.
Oh! Pamphilus well met;
and how d'ye finde the nymphs here, ha?

Pam.
As I co'd wish, the kindest lovingst souls
as e're I met withal.

Am.
How's this! let's stand close,
and over hear him.

Pam.
You need not multiply the Phenix to sum up
the number of all the maidenheads I shall leave
in Cyprus here, before I've done with'um.

Am.
D'ye hear?

Ev.
Is't possible!

Pam.
No, no, I knew not the humor
and disposition of the nymps here, I.

Em.
Troth, and so I think still.

(Aside.
Pam.
I hope now you'l believe me another time?

Ev.
It may be so, but now I swear I do not.

(Aside.
Dio.
Yet let us sooth and humour him to have
some sport with him;—
you know all the Nimphs here then?

Pam.
O most intimately.

Diop.
Amaranthe, Cloria, Lydia, Melissa?

Pam.
All, all—
and have had favours from every one of them,
this Ring from one, this Ribband from a second,
this Jewel from a third.

Mel.
What a lying fellow's this!

Dio.
And what think you of Cloria?

Pam.
She kisses well,
I've gone no farther with her yet, but there
is hope I may in time.

Clo.
Shall I indure this?

Am.
Nay prethee,

Dio.
And Lydia?

Pam.
With her I must confess
I've had a little more familiarity.

Lyd.
There's no induring this!

Am.
Yet this was he
you thought I wrong'd.

Lyd.
Hang him, none can, but onely
by reporting too well of him.

Pam.
For Amarinthe she's the coyest of 'um all.

Am.
I thank you.

Pam.
And was so angry with me for
a kiss I stole from her, but I soon pacified her:

Dio.
As how?

Pam.
Why, I told her that rather
then that shud make a war betwixt us,
which was wont to be the signe of peace with others,
I'd make her double satisfaction;
and for one kiss I took from her, wo'd give
her two.

Ev.
So then (as you imagin'd 'um) you finde
all the Nymphs here as supple and plyant as
kids leather Gloves, a gentle pluck or two
will easily draw 'um om.

Pam.
Draw 'um on! wou'd some body wou'd draw 'um off for me:
I fear I shall be ravisht by 'um.

Am.
Out upon him, I'le hear no more,
let's go, and as we pass, shew him all
the neglect and scorn we can possible.

They pass by him frowningly and Exeunt.
Dio.
D'ye mark how they frown upon him?

Pam.
Favours, meer favours, believe it Gentlemen,
and onely invitations to follow 'um;
you see how I am courted, and must pardon me.

Exit.
Dio.
The man's as impudent as vain I see,
and though this hitherto be but in jest
you whom he counts his friend may tell him best,
If he imagines with injurious lyes
To get him honour by their injuries:
Our Nymphs are all of such unquestion'd Fame,
He'l sooner punishment, then credit gain.

(Exeunt.
Enter Palemon.
Pal.
This way the fair Bellinda is to pass
Unto the Temple, and although she has
Forbid me speaking to her on pain of her
Displeasure, I may see her howsoe're;
And as she goes to th'Temple, feast mine eyes,
Which happiness she to my tongue denyes.—
Enter Bellinda, Filena, Polydor.
See where she comes, and now it fares with me
As with those sick, who whilst they long to see
The cup they may not taste, become but more
Thirsty with sight of't then they were before.

Fi.
Behold Palemon, as I've appointed him
ith way, can we invent no stratagem
to make her now with favourable eye
regard him? think, I'le second you.

Pol.
I'le try:
whose that Palemon?

Fi.
Think it be,
but let's go on and think not on him.

Exeunt Bellinda and Polydor.
Pal.
She my enemy!

Pol.
Ben't deceiv'd Palemon, for
'twas said to make her think of you the more.
For just as winde or fanning does the fire
So, prohibition more inflames desire.

(Exit.
Pal.
I fain wo'd follow her, but I know that she
Wo'd be offended with it; and for me
To offend her now, were to undo my self,
And in the Haven shipwrack all my wealth.

Exit.