 | Pastor Fido : or, The Faithful Shepherd |  |
1
ACT the First.
[SCENE the First.]
After a sound of Horns, and cry of Hunts-men, Enter Silvio and Lynco.Silvio.
There's Musick in this sound, Life, Soul, and Charm.
What Breast so frozen, but this sport can warm?
Deserted Woods, and unfrequented Plains,
And you, your Countreys shame, poor frighted Swayns,
I am your Champion; 'tis by Me decreed,
The long disturber of your Peace shall bleed.
This Savage Bore must Dye.
Lynco.
“Oh Silvio,
“Had I thy fresh and blooming Cheek, adieu
“I'de say to Beasts, and nobler Game pursue.
Silv.
A Game more noble? what more Sacred task,
Could Fortune grant, or his Ambition ask,
Who for his Country does with Monsters fight,
And the VVorlds Terrour makes his dear delight?
Lync.
This Savage Chace leave t'an Ignobler hand:
A fairer Prize does your pursuit demand.
For which—
No less does the Arcadian safety call,
Then for this Erymanthian Monsters fall.
Have not our Oracles long since design'd
From Silvios Nuptials, we our Peace should find?
2
“To have a Nymph so fair, that not a Swain
“So proud, but sighs for her, and sighs in vain:
“To have this matchless bright Divinity
“By Destiny and Gods reserved for Thee;
“Nay thrown into thy Arms without one sigh or tear;
“And thou (unworthy) not to value her?
Silv.
Love, the dull Fetter of all slavish souls;
No such weak power my free-born mind controuls.
Lync.
“Oh Silvio, hadst thou tryed Love once, & found
“In Mutual Lovers, what true Joys abound,
“I know thou'dst say, Oh Love, the sweetest Guest,
“Why hast thou been a stranger to this Breast?
“Leave, leave the Woods; leave following Beasts, fond Boy,
“And follow Love.
Silv.
Love, an unmanly Joy!
“Keep they those Pleasures to themselves alone
“Who find a Soul in 'em, for I find none.
Lync.
“No Soul in Love, the Worlds great Soul! Dull Youth
“Too soon (beleiv't) thou'lt find this pow'rful Truth;
“Perchance too late; for he'l be sure, before
“We dye, to make us all once feel his pow'r.
“And be assur'd, worse torment none can prove,
“Than in old Limbs, the Youthful Itch of Love.
“Old Men
“In Love are doubly wrackt, both with the sense
“Of their Youths Pride, and Ages Impotence.
Silv.
Must then my Youth, for glorious actions lent,
Be on dull Woman, prodigally spent?
“For those Chimeras in a Lovers head,
“Those strange Elysiums by Mens Feavours bred?
Lync.
“Tell me, if in this pleasing month of May,
“When Earth is drest in all her rich array,
“Instead of bladed Fields, Brooks uncontrol'd,
“Green Woods, and painted Meads, thou should'st behold,
“Bald Fields and Meads, Brooks bound with Ice; the Pine,
“The Beech, the Ash, the Oak, the Elme, the Vine,
3
“Stand desolate, ratling their naked bones;
“Wouldst thou not say, Nature is out of Tune,
“The World is sick, and like to dye in June?
Now turn thy Eyes into thy self, and see
How ill thy Passions, with thy Youth, agree:
“Behold a much more monstrous Novelty
“Then this would seem in Nature. Courteous Heaven
“To every Age has proper humours given.
“And as in Old Men, Love absurdly shews;
“So Young Men, Enemies to Love, oppose
“Nature and Heaven. Look Silvio round about,
“Examine this whole Universe throughout;
“All that is fair or good, here or above,
“Is either Lover, or the work of Love.
Sylv.
How canst thou with such trecherous Arts perswade:
And thus the freedom of my Soul invade?
“Was it for this I had my tender years
“Committed to the care of thy grey hairs?
“That thou shouldst thus Effeminate my heart
“With Love? Know'st who I am, or who thou art?
Lynco.
“Thou art a Man, or should'st be one, and I
“Another; what I teach Humanity.
“And if thou scornest that name, which is thy Pride,
“Take heed, instead of being Deified,
“Thou turn not Beast.
Silv.
“That Monster-taming King,
“From whom my lofty Pedigree I bring,
“Had never been thus Valiant, nor thus Famed,
“If first the Monster Love he had not tamed,
And his great deeds by Glorys Standart framed.
Lync.
See foolish Youth, how weak thy Reasons prove;
“Had great Alcides never been in Love,
“How then had'st thou been born? If he o're-came
“Monsters and Men, to Love impute his Fame;
“To Love his Conquests. Souls like his untamed,
“In their own Nature rough, when once inflamed
“With generous Love, and with its Sweets allayd,
“Are clearer, apter for great actions made.
4
“Great Hercules, and not degenerate
“From thy high blood; since Woods thou dost affect,
“Follow the Woods, but do not Love neglect.
Not that I'de have thee thy mean thoughts debase
To poor Dorindas Love of low-born race.
Thy Amaryllis is of race Divine;
Besides by Contract, she's already thine.
Thy Wife already.
Silv.
Heav'n defend me!
Lync.
How?
Silv.
My Wife?
Lync.
Can Silvio forget his Vow?
Your mutual promises received, and given?
“Take heed, bold Youth, how you dare sport with Heav'n.
Silv.
“Mans freedom is Heav'ns gift, which does not take
“Us at our words, when a forc'd Vow we make.
Lync.
“I; but (unless our Hopes and Judgments fail)
“Heav'n made this Match, and promis'd to Entayl
“A thousand blessings on't.
Silv.
“'Tis like that there
“Is nothing else to do. A proper care
“To vex the calm rest of the Gods above.
Lynco, I scorn both Lovers Oaths, and Love.
[Exit.
Lynco.
“Thou sprung from Heav'n, harsh Boy? nor of Divine
“Can I say suppose thee, nor of humane line.
“Alectoes Poyson thy cold Limbs did fashion;
“Fair Venus had no hand in thy Creation.
Exit.
SCENE the Second.
Enter Mirtillo and Ergasto.Mirt.
“Fair Amaryllis, if by speaking, I
“Offend thee, I will hold my peace, and dye.
Erg.
“Mirtillo, Love is a great pain at best;
“But so much more, the more it is supprest.
Why do you inward burn, and find no tongue?
5
“My fear, and my respect to her, thus long,
“Have silenc'd me. Alas, too well I know,
“Nor has Love struck me blind, that in my low
“And slender Fortunes, it were idle pride
“To hope a Nymph so shaped, so qualified,
“So rais'd in Birth, in Spirit, and in Blood,
“Above all these so gentle, and so good,
“Can e're be mine. No; I have took the height
“Of my unhappy Star, and dread my Fate.
But Amaryllis Weds; say, does she not?
Erg.
'Tis so resolved.
Mirt.
Oh my unhappy Lot!
Now Destiny has done its cruellest part,
Despair till now, but hover'd round my heart.
Till now, amid'st the greatest of my fear,
Some glimmering hope at distance did appear:
My wishing Love did the kind Flatterer play;
And though 'twas Night, me-thoughts I dreamt of Day.
But now my Horrour runs through all my Veins:
Despair fills up my heart, and absolute Tyrant reigns.
Past all recovery she's gone, she's gone.
I see the Prize by a blest Favourite won;
From my weak arms for ever, ever, torne;
I see the Mirtle Wreath my Rivals brows adorn.
And now Ergasto, e're my heart quite break,
“Though 'tis too late, I am resolv'd I'le speak.
Erg.
“Woe be to her, should her stern Father hear.
“That to stoln prayers she ever lent an Ear.
Mirt.
Alas my Looks and Language shall be far,
Both from offending him, and injuring her.
“I'le only say to her I owe my Death,
“And beg, when I sigh out my latest breath,
“She'd cast her fair Eyes on me, and say, Dye;
“This favourable Boon she can't deny:
That e're she goes to make another Blest,
My Sighs may reach her Ear, though not her Breast.
“Silvio, the Rich, the Gallant, and the Fair,
“The Priest, Montanoes only Son and Heir;
6
“So ripe for Harvest in his Spring of years.
Erg.
“Indeed you've little cause to envy him;
Rather to pitty him.
Mirt.
To pitty him!
Can pitty such a happy State befit?
Ergast.
“Because he Loves her not.
Mirt.
“And has he Wit?
“Has he a heart? Is he not blind? And yet
“When I consider with what full Aspect
“Her Starry Eyes their influence direct
“Into my Breast, she cannot have a Dart
“Left in her Quiver for another heart.
“But why do they a Jem so precious throw,
“To one that knows it not, and scorns it so?
Erg.
Because from Silvios Marriage, Heav'n of old,
T'Arcadia has deliverance fore-told:
You, though a Stranger here, have understood,
That of an offer'd Virgins guiltless blood,
A Tribute by Dianas dire command
Is yearly paid by this unhappy Land.
Mirt.
“But what strange Crime deserved so sharp a Doom?
“How could such monstrous cruelty find room
“In a Celestial mind?
Erg.
The cause of all
This storm, was one of Cynthias Favourites fall:
Her best-lov'd Priest, a Youth of Noble blood,
By an inconstant Nymphs fair Eyes subdu'd;
And by her Vows and broken Oaths betray'd,
In desperation for this Perjur'd Maid,
Himself, before her Feet, a bloody Victim laid.
Whose Death Diana did so much incense,
That by a long and violent Pestilence,
A suffering Nation in her fall was crusht:
In Purple dye her killing fury blusht:
Nor could the dying Criminals blood alone,
Wash off her stain, and for her sins atone.
Mirt.
But how did you at last the Goddess rage appease?
Erg.
Our Cure's almost as ill, as our Disease.
7
“The Oracle received this fatal Doom,
“That yearly, we to Nights offended Queen;
“A Maid or Wife should offer, past fifteen,
“And under twenty; by which means, the rage
“That swallow'd thousands, one death should asswage.
Mirt.
And was this Barbrous Tribute by her will,
Doom'd to be paid for ever?
Erg.
“The Oracle
“Being askt agen, what end our Woe should have;
“To our demand, this punctual answer gave.
“Your Woe shall end, when two of Race Divine,
“Love shall Combine:
“And for a faithless Nymphs Apostate State,
“A faithful Shepherd supererrogate.
“Now there is left in all Arcadia,
“Of Heav'nly stock, no other branch but they.
“Young Silvio, and fair Amarillis, She
“From Pan descended, from Alcides, He;
“And to our grief, till now, there never yet
“Of Heav'nly Race, a Male and Female met.
On this a Nations hope depends; the rest
“Is still reserv'd in Fates own secret breast;
“And with this Marriage, one day will ensue.
Mirt.
“And all this poor Mirtillo to undo.
“What a long reach is here? what Armys Band
“Against one heart, half murder'd to their hand?
“Is't not enough that cruel Love's my Foe,
“Unless Fate too contrives my over-throw.
Erg.
“Alas Mirtillo, grieving does no good;
“Tears quench not Love, but are its Milk and Food.
“'T shall scape me hard, but e're the Sun descend,
“This Cruel One shall hear thee: Courage Friend.
Mirt.
That word has shot life through me; do but this,
And to repay you for so vast a Bliss,
When I am Dead, and her fair Hand has given
The killing-wound, I'le send you thanks from Heav'n.
Exeunt.
8
SCENE the Third.
Enter Corisca and Celia.Corisca.
Yonder he goes; oh that bewitching Face;
“When I behold Mirtilloes every grace,
“His unaffected Carriage, all his Charms;
What pleasing heat my panting Bosom warms?
But when I think anothers Chains he wears,
And will be deaf to all my Sighs and Pray'rs,
That dismal thought my bleeding heart-strings tears.
“Shall I the flame of thousand hearts, the wrack
“Of thousand Souls, languish and burn, and lack
“That pitty I denyed to others? I
Who kill by Cruelty, by fondness dye.
Celia.
Talk not of dying, Death's an end of pain
To those that Love but once, and never Love again:
But thanks to Heav'n, you've no such danger nigh,
You have that pleasing Charm, Variety;
Let those that starve in Love, complain they dye.
Corisc.
Yes Girl, had I no other Love but this,
In Love there would be very little Bliss.
“How extream poor must that ill House-VVife prove,
“Who in all the World keeps but one only Love.
“What's Faith?
“What's Constancy? Tales which the Jealous feign,
“To awe fond Girls; Names as absurd as vain?
“Faith in a Woman (if at least there be
“Faith in a Woman unreveal'd to me,)
“Is not a Virtue, nor a Heav'nly Grace,
“But the sad Penance of a ruind Face,
“That's pleas'd with one, 'cause it can please no more.
A thousand fetter'd Slaves, should all before
A Beauteous Face fall prostrate, and adore.
“What's Beauty, tell me,
“If not pursued? where Lovers numerous are,
“It is a sign the person Lov'd is rare;
A Creature Charming, excellently fair.
9
You Beauties then like Majesty in State,
“Keep a large Train. One Officer to wait,
“Another to present, a third to prate,
“A fourth for somewhat else.
Corisc.
Well Celia, when thy opening Beauty blows,
Grown up to Love, take my advice, and use
“Thy Lovers, like thy Garments, put on one;
“Have many; often shift, and wear out none.
“For daily Conversation breeds distast;
“Distast Contempt, and Loathing at the last.
“Then get the start, let not the Servant say,
“He has turn'd his Mrs, but she him away.
“These are the rules I take; I've choyce, and strive
“To please 'em all; to this, my hand I give,
“And wink on him; the handsom'st I admit
“Into my Bosom; but not one shall get
“Into my Heart; and yet I know not how
“(Ay me) Mirtillo's crept too near it now.
Celia.
For shame, leave sighing Sister, have more Pride;
You that have got so many Loves beside,
Cure this fond Thirst by some more pleasing tast;
In half your plenty, none but Fools would fast.
Corisc.
I never sigh'd, but to deceive before,
Such pains as these, till now, I never bore:
What shall I do?
Leave him, I cant; Court him I must not. Yes:
Love forbids that, and Honour hinders this.
“First then I'le try Allurements, and discover
“The Love to him, but will conceal the Lover.
If after this, he does my flame despise,
Nought but Revenge, shall my hot Rage suffice,
And my Proud Rival Amaryllis Dyes.
My Persecutor here—
Spying Sylvano Enter, she runs away.
Enter Sylvano and Dorco.
Sylva.
Corisca, stay.
Confusion seize her! how she hasts away?
Why by Heav'ns Curse and Malice was I Born
10
“As Frosts to Plants, to ripend Ears a Storm;
“To Flowers the Mid-day-Sun, to Seed the Worm;
“To Stags the Toyles, to Birds the Lime-twiggs, so
“Is Love to man an everlasting Foe.
“And he that call'd it fire, pierced well into
“Its Treacherous Nature; for if fire you view,
“How bright and beautiful it is. Approacht,
“How warm and comfortable? but when toucht,
“Oh how it burns; the Monster-bearing Earth
“Did never Teem such a Prodigious Birth.
“Where e're Love fixes its Imperial Seat,
“Cottage and Pallace to its Rage submit.
So absolute is its too large Command,
Nothing can its Tyrannick pow'r withstand.
“So Love, if you behold it in a pair
“Of Starry-eyes, in a bright tress of hair;
“How temptingly it looks; what kindly flames
“It breaths? what Peace, what Pardons it proclaims?
“But if thou dost it in thy bosom keep,
“So that it gather strength, and can but creep,
“No Tygress in Hircanian Mountains Nurst,
“No Lybian-Lyoness is half so curst.
“Nor frozen Snake fosterd with humane breath,
“His Flames are hot as Hell, Bonds strong as Death.
Dor.
Why all this storm? leave her, and rage no more.
Sylv.
Preach silence to the Winds; I'le ne're give o're.
“Women, perfidious Women; all that's naught,
“In Love, from You is by Infection caught.
“He of himself is good, meek as the Dove,
“That draws the Chariot of the Queen of Love.
“But you have made him wild—
“You, who your Care, your Pride, and Pleasure place
“In the meer out-side of a Wanton face.
“Nor is't your business how to pay true Love,
“And study whether shall more constant prove.
“To bind two souls in one, and of one heart,
“To make the other but the Counter-part.
11
“To paint your faded Cheeks, to cover o're
“The faults of Time and Nature. How ye make
“Pale Feulemort a pure Vermillion take;
“Fill up the wrinckles; dye black, white; a spot
“With a spot hide, where 'tis; make't where 'tis not.
“And all the while such Torment you are in,
“That 'tis at once a Penance and a Sin.
Dorco.
But for Coriscas Crimes, why must you strike
At the whole Sex?
Sylv.
Damne 'em, they're all alike.
Dor.
But why such rayling?
Sylv.
Rayling do you call't!
There's not that Accusation, nor that Guilt,
As barbarous as Hell could e're invent;
Of which Perfidious Woman's innocent.
“Do their lips open? E're they speak, they lye;
“And if they sigh, they lye most damnably.
“False lights their Eyes are, and false weights their Ears;
“Their Hearts false measures, and false Pearl their Tears.
“So talk, or look, or think, or laugh, or cry;
“Seem, or Seem not; walk, sit, or stand, they lye.
Dor.
If Women are such Monsters as you make,
How have they Charms, mens hearts how can they take?
Sylv.
Their Snare's so plain, you'd wonder we are caught:
But Love is man's misfortune, not his fault.
For to promote their curst bewitching Arts,
They steal our Reasons first, and then our Hearts.
And th'acts of Mad-men can't be call'd their sin,
And none but Mad-men ever take Love in.
Yes, Mad indeed, when we repose our trust
“In those who would dye, rather than be just.
“These are the cursed Arts, these are the ways
“That have made Love so hateful in our days.
“False and ungrateful Nymph. Example take
“By me, unskilful Lovers, how ye make
“An Idol of a Face; and tak't for granted,
“There's no such Devil as a Woman Sainted.
12
“And o're thy slavish Soul does domineer,
“Like some great Goddess, counting thou wert born
“As a thing Mortal only for her scorn.
“Takes all that praise as Tribute of her merit,
“Which is the flattery of thy abject spirit.
Dor.
Why then so humbly is that Sex adored?
And each kind Look with sighs and tears implor'd?
“These are the Womans Arms: Take the best way,
Pursue, and tire, and seize her as your prey.
Sylv.
Thou hast inspir'd my soul, and I'le obey.
Since Tears and Prayers are vain, a bolder course
I'le steer: I am resolved t'enjoy by force:
“I must strike fire out of her Breast, by dint
“Of Steel; what Fool used Bellows to a Flint?
“Corisca, thou shalt find no more of me
“That bashful Lover. No; I'le let her see
“That Love sometimes (though he appear stark blind)
“Can from his Eyes the Handkercher unbind.
And when I once have got her in my Arms,
I'le sport and revel in her Riffled Charms.
Exeunt.
| Pastor Fido : or, The Faithful Shepherd | |