University of Virginia Library

The first Act.

The Scene, a Boscage, with the adjacent Prospect of a delightfull Valley, here and there Inhabited, with a magnificent Temple afar off discovered.

Scene I.

A Chorus of Love's Priests with Asperges and Thuribles lustrating the place.
1 Mysti.
We with pure Conspersions thus,
Sacred rites, and hallowed Thus,
To render every Lover true,
Do Element Love's dominions new;
That no heart too strongly beat,
We give his Fires temperate heat;
We give his Waters vertuous force,
T'asswage 'um taken in their source;
Fogg of perjur'd Vows and Oaths,
Which fair Truth, and Candor loaths,
We purge the Air from, and the Earth
From every fowl and monstrous birth;
For, as some Lands their Monsters fear,
Unruly Lust's our Monster here;
As others poys'nous Beasts molest,
So Avarice is our poys'nous Beast,
From which, when once a Realm is freed,
Then Love's dominion 'tis indeed.

SCENE II.

Euphanes in desperate Action of throwing himself on his Iavelin, withheld by Polydor.
Pol.
You wo'n't be mad?

Eup.
I will be nothing but
For Love, and for Love I will be any thing.
Pray unhand me—shall Bellinda, the
Divine Bellinda, who is to Beauty what
Beauty is to others, all Grace and Ornament,
Shall she be banish'd hence to day? and shall
Euphanes live to see't?

Pol.
And shall Euphanes,
The gallant, and the brave Euphanes die
Only to prevent death? how low
And poorly wou'd it shew?—and that's the worst
That can come on't,—but I hope better still;
Venus, the Goddess of this Isle, has oft
Done greater miracles than this, to make one young,
And fair, to love.

Eup.
“Who has onely miracles
“For Hopes, has Hopes but nigh Despair.

Pol.
Yet Time's
A mighty Qualifier of Fortune's harms,
And he who headlong throws himself into
Despair, precipitates his life, whilst he

Circumvents death, who lets himself down into 't by
degrees;—But pray consider, has she not promis'd
you, If any in Cypres she loves, it shall be you? and
Is this no hope?

No comfort?

Eup.
Just as much
As 'mong the numerous and unhappy throng
Of excluded Lovers, to stand next the door,
First expos'd t'affronts, and most concern'd
In the disgrace.

Pol.
Nay, if you give your self
Despair, there's none can give you Hope; at worst
If Euphanes loves Bellinda, as he says,
What hinders him following her whersoe'r she goes?
“Bootlesly and idlely does he complain
“Of Winter, who but following of the Sun
“Might still enjoy the Spring.

Eup.
But following an
Eclipsed Sun, what should he gain by it,
But only dark and dismal visions to
His Eys, and to his Heart black
Melancholy thoughts?

Pol.
Well Euphanes, as the Experient prove,
There are strange turns, strange mysteries in Love,
Who oft (as by experience we find)
Changes the most obstinate, obdurate mind:
For know, the Temple of Love is not compos'd,
As by th'grots ignorant vulgar 'tis suppos'd,
O'th' dull materials, Of dead senseless stones,
But he has more sensible and living ones,
The hearts of every one which he do's fit,
And apt at pleasure for composing it,
Of which some Nature makes so fit to love,
They with small difficulty Lovers prove:
Others so stuborn and unapt again,
They love not, but with mighty toil and pain;
And those who finally so useless prove
Th'are wholy unfit for th'fabrique of Love,
As in Bellinda, ('t may be) you'll see to day,
Offended Love do's cast 'um quite away—
But far be th'omen from my words, for though
't be more yet to be wish'd than hop'd, it is
Impossible she should not feel Love who
Do's make so many feel it, nor have no fire
In her herself, who kindles it in so many breasts—
But see Philona here makes me behold you as
A thing of pity.
Go haplesse youth, and sacrifise to Love,
Whose Deity you must have highly offended sure
Inflicts on you so heavy punishment,
To love one who neglects you, and neglect
Her here so dearly loves you:

Eup.
Stay, you will
Not go I hope?

Pol.
Excuse me, i'th quarrels of Lovers
'tis dangerous interposing.

Eup.
I'll warrant you.
Love shoots not his darts so fast and vehemently
From either of our encountring eys
You need fear being shot.

Pol.
How ever I'll not trust you,
For in these pretty skirmishes
None knows
When you are friends or foes:
For now ther's falling out,
Now truce, Now war,
And then
Amity and peace agen.
So if you be foes, I'll not hinder your making friends;
If friends, Love keep you so.

SCENE III.

Philena, Euphanes.
Eup.
Now shall I
Be vext even to madnesse with her importunity,
Lest truly I prevent her, and with one importunity
Expell another—Philena happily met,
For in you I meet my wishes.

Phi.
Most happy I, if my hopes now don't delude
And flatter me into deceit.

[aside]
Eup.
Thou know'st my life
So much depends on th'Fortune of this day,
As should Bellinda part hence, I of
Necessity must part with Life and all,
Whose Love the Fates have with so strong a Tye
Fastn'd to my very heart strings, they cannot snatch
Her hence, but they must rend and tear my heart
Out of my bosom too—Go prethee, go then,
And in this last moment when the Fates are busiest
At work in finishing their design, Indear
Thy diligence, and redeem thy Tardiness.
“Time is a Treasure few or none do care
“To save till 't's almost lost—
Thou knowst those softer minutes when Nymphs minds
Are best dispos'd for the Impressions of Love:
Couldst thou but instamp me in her bosom then,
And glide a thought of me into her memory,
Iust as she passes to the Temple, thou shouldst infinitely
Oblige Euphanes, and make him ever happy.

Phi.
And my self ever unhappy by't, ah me!
Was ever any more miserable than I
[aside]
To be made confident of my Rivals Love
Against my self?

Eup.
What should I say more? tell her
How much I love her,—yet that is not enough,
How much I Reverence & Adore her, do'st thou hear?

Phi.
I do;—& will you hear me now?

Eup.
If th'hast any thing new to say I will;
But of old businesses I pray no more.

Phi.
That cann't be old that's every day renew'd.

Eup.
Rather that cann't be new, that every day
Needs renovation,—but of this enough.
See how thou stand'st now! as if my life were not
Concerned in thy hast; Go, prethee go;
And if perchance th'art ought concern'd in't, know
'Less thou dost this to day, th'ast seen the last
Of wretched Euphanes.

Exit.
Phi.
And if I do't to day,
The world has seen the last of more wretched
Philena,—Oh me! I now do see
“Love is a burthen two hearts equally
“Should bear, and then 'tis light and pleasant, but
“Grievous and intollerable when th'one
“Does bear it all alone.
Mean time what shall I do? he well deserves
To find no pity, who affords me none:
But Love ne'r stands upon such nice respects,
Who there where unfeignedly 't does Love profess,
't does never sin, but in officiousness.
I am resolv'd to plead for him then against
My self; and though my heart do disavow
All my tongue says, spight of my heart, (in fine)
't shall say't, or I'll not avow it to be mine.

Exit.

SCENE IV.

Pamphilus peeping after her.
Pam.
Hay,—whurr,—there boults another wench;
The Warren's full of them; and I do but think
What dainty sport I shall have
In ferretting 'um;
The very name o'th' place had Attraction
Enough to draw me hither, where I expect
To find all Women as coming and tractable, as
Kids leather gloves, one gentle pull or two
Will easily draw 'um on. I do not like
Your difficil ones, who come as hardly off
As a wet Summers boot;—
Hey! there's another; and
Alone too? this opportunity
Is the shell Love's hatch'd of, and the wenches here,
Like Lap-wings, run away with't on their heads.
I'll accost her;—shee's right I'll warrant ye.

SCENE V.

Flamette, Pamphilus.
Pam.
Fair Nymph, might I be so bold (I pray)
To request the time o'th' day of you?

Fla.
With all my heart Sir, take what time you will,
It shall be any thing o'th' clock you please, for me.

Pam.
La ye there now?
There's never a Sextons wife in all Cypres
Could answer you more courteously.—Lets see,
What's next now? pox on't, we young practitioners
Of complement, and dabblers in Love,
When once w'ar out of our leggs & faces, are presently out
Of our discourse,—I, it shall be so—
And how, and how have you done Faith since I saw you last?

Fla.
Most methodical! how d'ee, and whats a clock?
I'll wager with any one now, next is, what News?
Or somewhat about the Weather; the ordinary
Discourse of those who can discourse of nothing:
And when (I pray) was it you saw me last?

Pam.
Why in Plato's great year, don't you remember it?
When just after such an encounter as this, I took
You by the hand, and kissing it, offered
To lead you just into such another Grove as this.

Fla.
Just no such matter,—pray pray Sir stay,
Sure you do n't remember well?

Pam.
Most perfectly,
By the same token I offer'd to salute you too.

[she puts him by.
Fla.
I knew you were quite wide,
And out Sir, I?—not me I can assure you.

Pam.
You cann't deny't I'm sure;
Think, think, and you must needs remember it,
I do as perfectly as if't were but to day—
And how I told you, having so fair an opportunity,
But lose it, and you'd never have the like agen.

Fla.
Wider and wider still from my remembrance.

Pam.
And that such kind offers from such kind youths as I,
Came not every day;—and I added too withall,
That I assur'd my self the Nymphs of this Countrie
Were so well learn'd, their Husbands on the mariage night before
Could teach 'um nothing, but what they knew

Fla.
Bless me! I never heard
[aside.]
Man talk a this manner.

Pam.
And for your particular,
I durst be sworn first time y'ad Liberty,
After fourteen to walk abroad alone,
Returning home, you found that you had left
Som such odd toys, as your Scarf, your Mask, & gloves,
And perhaps your Maiden-head, behind ye too.

Fla.
Thanks Love, thou hast redeem'd me—
She spies some coming.
Oh! cry mercy Sir.
Now I remember it
Perfectly well: Lord what a Treacherous
Memory have I!

Pam.
Oh d'ye so? I knew you would at last—
Now she's mine own, I'm sure on't.

Fla.
By the same token, just
As you talk'd thus wildly and licentiously
Philostrates, Love's sovereign Pontif, and
Governour o'th' Isle past by.

Pam.
Mas, and I think
Yonder he comes indeed.

Fla.
When I
Addressing me to him, and complaining of
Your unworthy rudeness, he presently
Invited you most honourably to dance
To a certain sprighly Instrument, call'd a Whip,
Worth a hundred of your Pochets and Violins
To make such Gallants as you to frisk and caper.

Pam.
I remember nothing of all this now—
But beshrow me I begin to fear, next Plato's great year
I shall indeed, if I tarry longer here.

Exiturus
Fla.
Hark ye, hark ye Sir,
Now I can tell you what time o'th' day 'tis too.

Pam.
I know it now, I thank you, well enough,
'tis time for me to be gon as I take it.

Exit.
Fla.
Farewell then my
Platonique Lover, and a fair riddance—But to
My businesse. I wonder where all

The Nymphs are, that none of them appears. I must
go seek 'um out.

SCENE VI.

Philostrates, Polydor, Euphanes, Love's Mysti, Chorus of old, young, and middle age, &c.
Pol.
And what dispatch to the Provincial governours,
Touching Platonique Love?

Philo.
Tell 'um we're men, pure spirits, and had no other end
But only the propagating Ideas this communicating
Of minds to minds might passe, which now has
So slippery a way to go:
It's outre tendance most commonly falls fowl
O'th'Body in its passage towards the Soul,
Yet in those colder climats have Phlegm enough
To quench their amorous flames, 'tmay be allow'd,
But no ways to those hotter Nations,
Whose sulphurous Spirits presently take fire
At presence of their Mistresses; Nor Is't but with
Much caution to be permitted to different Sexes,
Unlesse of age more different: for distinction
Is the Art of Wisdom, and who imagins
One measure for all Bodies may suffice,
And one rule for all minds, are equally unwise.

Pol.
The sacred Philostrates speaks divinest truth.

Phi.
So 'mongst these Chymerical speculations,
Like the Alchymists great Elixar, rarely
Or never are reducible to Art,
And practice, it may pass—An other abuse
They much complain of (and deservedly)
Is the confounding Love with Liking, and
Calling of every trivial passion Love;
Each Peasant now who likes but a dairy Maid,
Crying out, He is in Love, profaning so
The Divinity of Love, by making him companion
Of every vulgar breast.

Pol.
As every School-boy too
Once past the School, and School-boys toys, next toy
He gets, is a Mistress, whom he straightways courts
I'th' canting language of Enamourists,
Of darts and flames, and dying and languishing,
Which he calls Love forsooth, so many degrees
Remov'd from't, tis scarce the coverture
Love is infolded in, (a dutious heart,
Obsequious services, and sincere respects.)

Phi.

Enter Chorus and Euphanes.
Mysti.
Now our doctrine to begin,
From Love's diviner origin;
Know two different Loves there are
In hearts, incessantly do warr,
Th'on a lustfull brutish one,
Tother Venus Urania's Son,
With his Celestial darts and fires
In chast hearts kindling pure desires,
Distance 'twixt whom as much there is,
As 'twixt high Heaven, and deep Abyss;
As by th'effects you'll easily find,
Since th'one imbrutes and soils a mind,
Whilst th'others purity ne'r can
Admit of blemish, spot, nor stain.
As unconsistent too as night
And darknesse is with cleerest light,
“For i'th' same place, on the same day,
“The Swine and Ermin never lay.
In a word then for to tell
What virtuous Love is, mark me well,
'tis a just temper of our Souls,
All vitious extreams controuls,
'tis the gust we have and sense
Of every noble Excellence,
It is that whereby we know
Whether our Souls have sense or know,
It is the main spring that our minds
To fair and virtuous things inclines,
And 't's that and only that in fine,
Which makes men next unto Divine

Eup.
I better can tell you what it is—
'tis a mixture and compound of all
We happy and unhappy call,
'tis a contradiction again
A bitter sweetnesse and a pleasant pain;
In one word what Love is to tell,
Look in Bellinda's Eyes it is a Heaven,
Look in Euphanes Heart it is a Hell.

Exit
Phil.

Exit Chorus singing.
Phil.
Now to the rest
Of our affairs: Is the Nymph summon'd to
The Temple yet?

Pol.
'Tis yet not time.

Phil.
When 'tis,
Be it your care to see it done, and all
The rites and ceremonies in prepare
For the great solemnity:
This day peculiarly Love is thine
Work miracles on't, and shew thy self divine.

Exeunt