University of Virginia Library

ACTUS 4.

Enter Palemon and Philander.
The Scene, Loves Temple, as before, two Aruspiece with burning Censors, &c.
Palemon.
Now hêre Love at thy sacred shine
I offer up these vows of mine,—
Father of dear and tender thoughts,
Thou who the hardest bosom softs;
Soften Bellinda's heart, and make
Her but thy dear impressions take;
So shall I burn Arabian Gums,
And offer up whole Hecatombs
Upon thy Altar, whilst thy fires
Shall shine as bright as my desires.

1. Arus.
Whilst he the Deity does invoke
The flame ascends in troubled smoke:

Phi.
What sort of offering mine shall be,
Divinest Love's best known to thee;
Nor spices, nor Arabian Gums,
Nor yet of beasts whole Hecatombs:
These are too low and earthly, mine
Are far more heavenly and divine;
An Adamantine faith, and such
As jealousie can never touch:
A constant heart, and loyal breast,
These are the offerings thou lov'st best.

2. Arus.
Loves fires ne're brighter yet appear'd,
Who e're thou art, thy vows are heard.

Enter Theotimus, Chorus of Musicians one way, Bellinda 'tother, with all the Nymphs, Polydor, Evander, Diophantes, Pamphilus, &c.
Pal.
Now see here where she comes.

Phi.
Her noble frame,
habit, and stature tells me 'tis the same?

The.
Why comes she not away?

Pol.
What ails she there?

Am.
Help, help, she swounds:

Lyd.
Give her, give her more air?

The.
Hold, hold, I charge you, and let none
presume to touch the consecrated veil.

Pol.
Behold she's come
to her self again;

The.
Let the Solemnity
go on then.

Phi.
Now I clearly see 'tis she.

The.
Now on this Book here lay your hands,
Cover'd with skins of Doves and Swans;
And Love so help you as you swear,
Unfeignedly you love one here.

Phi.
Now Philander thou shalt know
whether she be true or no:

Pal,
And I know my destiny,
Whether I'me to live or dye.

The.
Thus I uncharm your tongue, now speak
And to our joyes your silence break.

Bel.
Then by Loves sacred deity I swear,
I love one in the Isle.

Phi.
What do I hear!

The.
Enough,—the charm agen, I thus apply.

Pal.
O me, most happy!

Phi.
And most unhappy I!

The.

Chor.
sings.
Praised be Love does all command
In fire and water, air, and land,
And all with his commands inspire
In land and water, air and fire.

(Exeunt.
Manet Filena.
Fi.
Bellinda Love! nay then my fears I see
Were not in vain, and nothing's left for me,
But onely death; when nothing else prevails,
That's the last remedy, and never fails.
Enter Palemon, and seeing her, returns.
Stay, stay Palemon;
This is the last time we shall ever meet;
Stay then and hear me, it is nobler yet
To kill me like the basilisk with your sight,
Then like the Parthians, kill me with your flight—
But he is gone (alas) and does deny
Me the last office of humanity
Of closing of my dying eyes in death,
And when I expire, receive my latest breath.—
The many wayes that lead to death do make
Me yet irresolute which way to take;
But some way I must take, and speedily
Resolve upon it too, what e're it be.

(Exit.
Enter Pamphilus.
The Scene, The precints of the Temple.
Pam.
Strange! that I can finde no way
to fasten on these Nymphs?
here comes one now,
Enter first Nymph.
and I'le try a way with her
that seldom fails they say.—Fair Nymph
please you to accept these Jewels here?

1, Nym.
Wherefore Sir?

Pam.
Onely to buy your love, nothing else

1. Nym.
Bless me!
Throws them away and exit.
Simony in love!

Pam.
This is the first wench
as ever I met withal,
that refus'd presents when they were offer'd her,
and I think will be the last.—
This is a strange Countrey,
where a man can't get a wench
neither for love nor money? well, I perceive
this handling 'um with so much ceremony
is that which spoils 'um,
and makes 'um so nice and ticklish
there is no touching 'um:
women shu'd be handled like nettles,
but press them hard
and you may do any thing with them,
and I'le try that way with the next I meet.

Enter Filena.
Fil.
I have bethought me of a way to dye
and must go seek out Amaranthe's help.

Pam.
Stay Lady, a word with you I pray
before you go.

(Layes hold on her.
Fit.
Was ever such a rudeness? unhand me sir,
and know that Virgins are like sacred Reliques
beheld with reverence; but let men come
to touch 'um once, their reverence is gone,—
what wou'd you with me?

Pam.
What a question's that?
when a man's alone with a woman, you
may easily guess what he wou'd have with her.

Fil.
Hence and avoid my sight, for now I see,
How all that we call vicious is in thee;
Foul corrupter of honour, as cankers of fairest flowers,
Shame of thy Sex, dishonourer of ours!

Pam.
Whow, whow! is the woman mad?

Fi.
Avoid my sight I say, thy glowing eyes
like Basilisks will kill me else; go and repent
thee of thy crying sins.

(Exit.
Pam.
What are those?
I know no crying sins I have,
but mine own Bastards:—Well, go thy wayes,
if e're thou marriest, I'le give thy husband this
comfort, he shall have no other issue of thee
but nails and teeth, if thou be'st such a Vixen.

(Enter Evander and Diophantes.
Ev.
Now Pamphilus, what's the matter,
that the Nymph is gone in such a rage away?

Pam.
Nothing, nothing, onely I offer'd her
the courtesie oth' Countrey, and she refus'd it,
that is all.

Ev.
Why then, I see you need not multiply
the Phenix, to sum up all the Maidenheads
you'l leave in Cyprus,
before you have done with them.

Pam.
Well, well, you do not know yet.

Ev.
Yes, but we do Sir, more then you imagine—
of a certain Nymph, you met in Plato's great year,
and how she entertain'd you.

Pam.
'Slid! how comes he to know of that?

Ev.
And of divers other encounters
with them since, when you could not desire to be
better mockt and laught at then you were.

Dio.
And now Sir, pray
as you finde our Nymphs here, so report of them;
and know 'tis not the way
for men to gain them reputation here,
to make themselves more vicious then they are.

Pam.
Nay, if he chide once I'me gone.

Ev.
Y'are deceiv'd, he chides you not,
but rather gives you good counsel.

Pam.
That is as 'tis taken,—'tis good councel
to those who mean to follow it;—
but to me 'tis flat chiding,
and I'le hear no more of it.

Ev.
Nay pray.

Pam.
Not I I swear,—
Chide me! who have liv'd like a Saint here, and
not toucht a Wench to day!

(Exit.
Ev.
But tarry a little.

Dio.
No, let him go, I see
he's forfeited to vice and debauchery
beyond redemption; and such as he,
when vice is once turn'd nature, ne're repent,
till they find their shame, or feel their punishment

Exeunt.
Enter Filena and Amaranthe meeting.
The Scene, a Landskip or Paisage.
Fi.
Amaranthe,—well met,
I've sought you all about,
And co'd not rest until I'de found you out;
You know, whilst you and I the other day
In yonder Mead, beheld our young Lambs play,
One of them stragling from the rest) we spy'd
Fell down, stretcht forth its tender limbs, and dy'd
In as short time as I've been telling t'ye,
And wondring what the reason of't shu'd be,
You said 'twas with eating
a venomous herb grew there.

Am.
'Tis true,—what then?

Fi.
You know besides how here,
where Love is even the vital air we breath,
and its privation consequently death;
depriv'd once of our Love, 'tis lawful for us to
despair and dye.

Am.
Whither tends this discourse I wonder?

Fi.
Now Amaranthe,
I must entreat of thee one courtesie.

Am.
What need you with so many circumstances
intreat her whom you may command?
What is't?

Fi.
'Tis, that thou'dst shew me this same slye
And subtle Thief, that so insensibly
Does steal us from our selves, the lookers on
Do scarce perceive w'are going, till w'are gone.

Am.
And why
wo'd you know this?

Fi.
Onely for curiosity.

Am.
Take heed, take heed Filena, it is no
Good curiosity to desire to know
Such dangerous secrets, as we well may say,
Their ignorance does no harm, their knowledge may.

Fi.
See Amaranthe how unkinde th'art grown!
Wo'dst all my secrets know, but tell me none:
But now to satisfie your curiosity,
In plainer terms, know I'm resolv'd to dye;
And having heard how death's a bitter cup,
To tell thee true, before I drink it up,
I'de sweeten it so, as though the Fates do please,
That I shu'd live in pain, I'de dye with ease.

Am.
How, you dye! now the Gods forbid!

Fi.
No, no,
Thou art deceiv'd; for Amaranthe know,
They are so good, as when 'tis misery
For us to live, I'me sure they'd have us dye.

Am.
But think, think what death is.

Fi.
What is it more,
then going to rest when we are weary, or
sleep when we'd rest.

Am.
I grant you, when w'are dead
Death is like rest, and th'grave but like our bed;
But if we chance to finde unrest there, thên
As we lye down, can we rise up agen?

Fi.
What is in t'other life, I cannot tell;
But what there is in this, I know so well,
As I'me resolv'd to dye; spare then your pain
To seek to hinder me, for 'tis in vain:—
There's but one way to live, but nature ha's
Provided us to dye a thousand wayes;
And hinder us from living every one
Can do, but hinder us from dying none.

Am.
I must take some other way to hinder her,
(Aside.
For this but makes her long for death the more.
And for the way that she ha's chose to dye,
Unknown to her, I know a remedy:—
Well then, since you are so resolv'd, I'le shew
You this venomous herb, upon condition you
Let me ha'th' tempering it, to make't so sweet,
You even shall be enamour'd with taste of it.

Fi.
On any condition Amaranthe I'le dye,
But on no condition live in misery;
Life is not worth it, and
For noble spirits 'tis brave necessity,
When they can't honourably live, to dye;
Whilst to ignoble ones the Gods do give
For punishment, dishonourably to live.

Exeunt.
(Enter Philander.
Phi.
Since no where we a constant woman finde,
But all light and wavering as the winde;
And there is no woman in all this wide
Circumference true, but she was never try'd!
Why shu'd I grieve as 'twere my fate alone,
What's common I perceive to every one?
But these are thoughts unworthy her and me,
For 'tis not hers, but my inconstancy;
If I can think her false, when I do know
Falshood wo'd even be truth, if she were so:
And nature of things quite change, rather then she
What she has been, shu'd ever cease to be.

(Enter Palemon.
Pal.
Oh fortunate Palemon! and the more,
The more unfortunate thou wert before!
And happy pains, happy affliction!
From which such pleasure and such joys do come!
Now I perceive there's none can better tell
What heaven is, then who first have past through hell.—
Methinks great conquerors who in triumph come
charg'd with the spoils of conquerd nations home
Are but the Types of me, who in triumph go
To th'Temple to enjoy Bellinda now.

Exiturus
Phi.
Death! If I can suffer this,
I shall deserve it:—Pray stay Sir,
for you have another victory to gain,
and enemy (I'de have you know)
to overcome, before you triumph so!

Pal.
What victory d'ye mean, what enemy?

Phi.
Why, I my self and the victory over me;
for know, Bellinda's mine, and I her Lover.

Pal.
You! did you not say you were her brother?

Phi.
I, but that was onely a disguise put on,
to hide what thên was fit shu'd not be known.

Pal.
Why this does take all faith away from you;
For eith'r 'twas true or false you said before;
If true, why then 'tis false you tell me now;
If false, there's no believing of you more.

Phi.
This fine Dilemma wo'd serve prettily
Ith' School, but not ith' Field; where it must be
Somewhat of finer temper then your words
Must make Bellinda yours, I mean our Swords.

(Layes hand on's Sword.
Pal.
I pray Sir hold, and e're you go so far,
consider but a little where we are,
here in Love's Kingdom, in a peaceful place,
where never any strife or quarrel was,
but onely loving ones.

Phi.
And is not ours for Love too?

Pal.
If it be, let Love decide it, are you content
to put it to his Tribunal and Arbitrement?

Phi.
That's a way poor, and low spirits findes,
This is the Tribunal and Arbitrement of mighty mindes;
(Draws.
'Twere folly in me to refer my Cause
Unto my enemies Tribunal and Laws.

Pal.
Fortune as well as Love's your enemy,
Of her as well as Love you fear'd shu'd be.

Phi.
For Love already he's declar'd my foe,
What Fortune yet may do, I do not know;
I'le try at least, my comfort is I can
Not be in worse condition then I am;
Cast down so low, it is not in the power
Of Love, or Fortune, e're to cast me lower.

(Enter Polydor.
Pol.
What's here?—a quarrel tow'rds!
Our peace disturb'd, and their offensive Swords
Th'uncivil Arbitrers of civil strife,
Already drawn, threatning each others life:
Our guards,—where are they there?

Exit hastily.
Phi.
We are discry'd,
Before they come, our quarrel let's decide.

Pal.
Do, and you'l see how they but bluntly fight,
Who first consider not their Causes right;
Whilst those who well consider it before,
Have but their courages whetted by't the more,

Phi.
And unto me considering is but like
The weak opposing of some bank or dike
Unto some torrents rage, which more y'oppose,
more raging and impetuous it grows.

(They fight
(Enter Polydor with Guards, and parts them.
Pol.
Hold, hold, I charge you in Loves name, or else
We are to seize your weapons and your selves.

Phi.
What violence is this?

Pol.
Your self's the cause,
who first have violate Loves peaceful Laws.

Phi.
Then in Loves Kingdom here shall Lovers be
Depriv'd both of their Loves and Liberty?

Pol.
What Love d'ye mean?

Phi.
Bellinda, who is my betroathed.

Pol.
How! she your betroathed!

Phi.
I, all Crete can witness it.

Pol.
If this be so,
y'ave too much witness here already, and you
've discovered a secret, which now 'tis known,
May prove Bellinda's ruine and your own.

Pal.
O heavens!—now I remember me
by another Law; who e're doth falsifie
the sacred Oath; are instantly to dye,
sacrific'd to th'offended Deity:
But e're it comes to that, my life shall pay
the forfeiture of hers.

Pol.
Come let's away,
Palemon, you've your châmber for prison;
you Sir, must along with me unto
Theotimus to be examin'd.

Pal.
I obey you.

Phi.
And I obey necessity.

(Exeunt.
(Manet Palemon:
Pal.
VVell Fortune, thou giddy Goddess,
if Bellinda be to dye,
And thou hast onely rais'd me up so high,
To cast me down with greater force, I'le fall
So gallantly and bravely, yet as all
Shall say at least, how e're unfortunate
Palemon yet deserv'd a better fate.

(Enter Amaranthe in haste with other Nymphs.
Am.
Run,—run, and seek her all about,
or she's but dead; and when y'ave found her out,
bring me word presently, as you love her life.—
VVas never a more unfortunate maid and wife?

(Exeunt Nymphs several wayes.
Pal.
What busie haste is this.

Am.
What are you there?
flye, flye Palemon, or the Nymphs will tear
you in pieces.

Pal.
Why?

Am.
For killing the gentlest maid
eye ever saw, or Cyprus ever had;

Pal.
What maid d'ye mean?

Am.
Filena.

Pal.
Why! is she dead?

Am.
She reads.
Filena's Letter.

Am.
And so I hope thou do'st
fair gentle maid, or th'Gods shu'd else be most
unkinde and cruel, shu'd they not to thee grant
that rest in death, which thou in life didst want.—
Now you who for cruelty surpass
The cruel'st savage Beast that ever was;
Some Tyger bore thee sure, or thou wert bred
With Tygers milk at least, and nourished:
If thou who art the cause of all canst hear
This, and not vent a sigh, nor shed a tear.

Pal.
As for my sighing and my weeping, that
Is an expression too effeminate;
Onely for single losses: such as mine
Requires expressions far more masculine:
Where grief and sorrows are redoubled,
For dying Bellinda, and Filena dead.

(Exit.
Am.
What's that? Bellinda dying does he say?
Sure Love and death have chang'd their darts to day,
and there's some Planet reigns will kill us all,
but I forget Filena.
Enter a Nymph.
Oh now I shall
hear news of her—well have you found her?

Mel.
No,
but Lydia sayes sh'ave trac't her footsteps to
the sacred Grove.

Am.
Take a cruise presently
Of purest water then, and follow me;
Yet there is hope I may retard her fate,
And save her life, which Love does make her hate.