University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Second.

Enter Amaryllis.
Amar.
“Riches, what are they, but our freedoms snares.
“What boots it in the Spring-time of ones years,
“To have the Attributes of fair and good,
“In mortall Veins to lock Celestial blood?
“If with all these our hearts Contentment lose,
And what we most desire, want pow'r to choose?
“Happy that Shepherdess, whom some course stuff
“Obscurely Cloaths, yet clean and just enough.
“Rich only in her self, and in the best
“And noblest Ornaments of Nature drest.
Whose narrow state no forreign Cares distress:
Her Bosom, and her little World at peace.
“Who in sweet Poverty no want does know,
“Nor the Distractions, which from Riches grow.
“Yet whatsoever may suffice the mind,
“In that Estate abundantly does find.
“One Fountain is her Looking-glass, her Drink,
“And Bath; and if she's pleas'd, what others think,
“It matters not. She heeds not blazing Stars
“That threaten mighty Ones; Wars or no Wars,
“It is all one to her: Her Battlement
“And Shield is that she's Poor, Poor; but content.

Enter Corisca.
Cor.
Beyond my wish I'm favour'd by my Fate.
Heav'ns, must I be Mirtillos Advocate.
Oh kind Ergasto, a more pleasing task
Thou could'st not grant, nor could Corisca ask.
Under the Name of Amaryllis Friend,
I have fit means, and safe, to work my end.

aside.
Amar.
Corisca!

Coris.
My dear Amaryllis here?

Amaryll.
Yes kind Corisca, all that's left of her.
I'm to be Married; all that once was mine,
My freedom, and my heart, all that was thine;
My friendship and my smiles, are ours no more;
They are all seiz'd by a commanding Pow'r.

Corisc.
Do not with needless fears disturb your peace:
Why must your freedom and our friendship cease?
There's no such Fetters, no such dangers wait
Upon the sweet and happy Marryed state.

Amar.
Happy and Sweet—Alass—

Corisc.
“Why do you fetch
“That sigh? Leave sighing to that Wretch.

Amar.
“What Wretch?

Corisc.
Mirtillo.

Amar.
What of him—Oh that blest Name.

[aside.
Corisc.
Only I have saved his Life.

Amar.
His Life! How came
His Life in danger?

Cor.
By his dispair for you.
That hour he first your fatal Contract knew,
The killing sound no doubt had mortal prov'd,
Had not my kindness half his pain remov'd;
“By promising to break this Match, which though
“I only said to comfort him, I know
The way if need were—

Amar.
Dear Corisca, speak;
Can thy kind help this cruel Gordian break?

Corisc.
Yes, easily.

Amar.
My better Angel, how?

Cor.
By Heav'n she loves him, and my fears are true.
Aside.
To break this Marriage off, if you would please
T'assist me, is a thing I'de do with ease.

Amar.
Unkind Corisca, had you in your pow'r
This blessing, and conceal'd it till this hour?
Well, though you hide your secrets, yet take mine:
Know when I think I must my heart resign,
“And all my Life, be subject to a Boy,
That hates me, and does place his only joy
In Woods, in Beasts, in Dogs, and Hunts-mens crys;
That thought to my wrack'd soul all Peace denys.
Why was I born of Heav'nly race for this?
“Happy that poor and humble Shepherdess,
“Who has not half my weighty Cares to keep
“Her heart awake; who feeds her Master's Sheep
“With the pearld grass, and with her lovely eyes,
“Some honest Swain, that for her Beauty dyes.
“Not such as Men or Gods choose to her hand,
“But such as Love did to her choyce commend.
“And in some favour'd shady mirtle Grove,
“Desires, and is desired, and lives all Love.
“This only is true Bliss, which till the breath
“Deserts the body, knows not what is Death.
“Would Heav'n had made me such a one.

Coris.
Why that
I'le wish; to save you 'tis not yet too late.

Amar.
“Not late! My Faith I have already given
“Both to my Father, and what's worse, to Heav'n:
“And break with them I neither will, nor may.
“But if your Industry can find a way
“T'unty this Knot, so that my Honesty,
“My Faith, my Fame, and my Religion be
“Preserved, how blest, how proud—

Cor.
Leave it to me.
Coriscas Glory, and her pow'r, this day,
In all their colours shall their Pride display.
“But when from an ill Husband thou art freed,
“May not an honest Lovers hopes succeed?
Mirtillo you must Love, you shall—nay more,
Must give him leave to see you, and adore.

Amar.
“'Twere better he'd in peace and silence rest,
“And root so vain a love out of his Breast.

Coris.
“Some comfort you shall give him e're he dye.

Am.
Half favours do but heighten misery.

Coris.
“If they do so, the seeking is his own.

Amar.
“And what must I expect, should it be known?

Coris.
“How Cowardly thou art.

Amar.
“And may I still
“Be Cowardly in any thing that's ill.

Coris.
“And can you fail me in this small request.
“Farewell; so may I fail thee in the rest.

Amar.
“Oh stay Corisca.

Coris.
“If you'l promise me
“To hear Mirtillo.

Amar.
Well, I'le promise thee
To hear him; but provided it may be
But once.

Coris.
But once.

Amaryl.
“And that he may not know
“We meet with my consent or knowledg.

Coris.
No:
You cannot think I'le be so indiscreet.
I'le make him think 'tis by my plot you meet.
Trust to my care; your safety in my hand,
Your faithful Creatures pow'r and Life command.

Amar.
Farewell kind Maid.

[Exit.
Coris.
Believing Fool, farewell;
Yes, trust me, I will serve thee; but as Hell
Serves Sinners; I will lead her fairly on
Till past Redemption lost, she is undone.
She Loves Mirtillo:
And Rivalship enflames me to that height,
That now I love him at that senseless rate,
That for his sake I'de startle at no crime.
Nay, I could e'ne turn Fool, and Marry him.
Enter Sylvano, rushing from behind the Seene, and catches her.
“Oh Amaryllis I am caught, I am caught;
Stay and assist me.

Sylv.
No, she hears thee not.
“Thou Mrs. in the art of making Lyes,
“That sell'st false looks, false hopes at such a price,
“With honesty stampt on thy haughty brow,
None of thy falsehoods shall deceive me now.

Coris.
To me this barbrous Language?

Sylv.
Yes to thee.
Now I'le reward thee for thy Treachery,
Thou Cheat, Dissembler, Witch, and Sorceress;
Perjur'd Corisca.

Corisc.
“Yes, I do confess
“I am Corisca; not that happy she,
“Who once was Courted and beloved by thee,
My gentle dear Sylvano.

Sylv.
Gentle, dear!
What sweetning words, what a new stile is here?
Oh the Conversions that are wrought by fear.
Was this the language, this the humble look,
When Me for the young Thyrsis you forsook?
And from that heart, just sealed to me before,
All your repeated Oaths to Niso swore.

Coris.
Who, I forsake thee? take back the lest part
From thee of that intire devoted heart,
Which is thy sacred right.

Sylvan.
Oh wondrous strange!
No, no; Your constancy can never change!
Since of your Crimes you can forgetful be,
My Vengeance shall refresh your memory.

Coris.
Vengeance! Oh Heavens, on whom?

Sylv.
On thee Enchantress, thee fair Infidel;
Thou hast not playd the Traytors part so well,
As I will do the Lovers. Thanks kind pow'rs,
After so many sighs and tedious hours,
My Life and Fortune's spent to buy your smiles,
Kind Fate at last rewards my weary toyls,
And my false fair one, now I'le tryumph in the spoyls.
Since so much Hell within your Bosom reigns,
I'le Conjure all the Devils in your Veins.

Corisc.
Oh Horrour! My soft Peace, how can you fright?
Can you hurt her whom once you call'd your dear delight?
What Faith in Men can Wretched Virgins find,
If my Sylvano ceases to be kind.

Sylvan.
Cease to be kind to thee. By Heav'n not I,
I'le be so kind—

Coris.
Oh my hard destiny!

Sylv.
—That not thy Father, when in all his heat,
And Youth, he did thy wanton Mother treat,
To raise this Cursed race to damne Man-kind,
Was ever half so hot, or half so kind.
He, lazy Nuptial Fool did only move
In the dull humane Path of making Love;
But I'le turn Ravisher, and sport like Jove.

Coris.
“Behold me at thy feet. Oh pardon me,
“If ever I by chance offended thee,
“My Idol; by those God-like looks, these more
“Than humane Knees, which clasping, I adore.
“By thy dear self Sylvano; thy more dear
“Affection which thou once to me didst swear:
“By the sweet influence of those Eyes, which thou
“Wert wont to call two Stars, two Fountains now.

Sylv.
T'extract these Tears, what wonders have I done?
Such soft Dew falls not after every Sun.

Corisc.
Dear Sylvan, pitty me, and let me go.

Sylv.
“Thinkst thou still Syren to deceive me? No.

Corisc.
Oh let me go, try me but once, and see
How just, how faithful, and how kind I'le be.

Sylv.
No, I am grown too wise to credit thee;
“And he that takes thy word, himself ensnares,
“Beneath this humble shew, beneath these Prayers.
“Is hid Corisca. I too long delay.
My Pleasure and Revenge calls me away.
Come my fair Martyr.

Corisc.
Oh Inhumane stay,
Hear me but one word more.

Sylv.
You beg in vain.

Corisc.
Have you no pitty left? shall I obtain
No Mercy?

Sylv.
None, I'le drag you to my Cave,
And no more treat you as my Saint, but Slave.
There, Oh my Vengeance! Oh my pleasure!

Corisc.
Hold.
Are you resolv'd?

Sylv.
As firm as Fate, and less to be controul'd.
Have you done whining?

Corisc.
“Oh thou base, and not
“To be exampled Slave, half Man, half Goat,
“And all a Beast;—thou Natures Out-cast, born
For her Disgrace, and for Corisca's Scorn.
“Corisca Loves thee not! thou think'st the truth;
“What should she see in such a Charming Youth?

Sylv.
Now your true self appears; but do not think
Curses or Prayers shall make Sylvano shrink.

Corisc.
Infernal Beast, let go your hold, be gone:
Think not the impious deed's so easily done.
That minute thy Impiety shall dare
But touch me, with my shrieks I'le fill the Ayre;
And call down all Heav'ns Thunder on thy head:
Nay, I'le turn Basilisk, and look thee dead.

Sylv.
Call Thunder down! as if the Gods would hear
Thy out cryes Devil. I so little fear
Heav'ns Anger for so just, so brave an act,
That in the very height of all the Fact,
I'le with such pride the glorious deed commit,
That I'le my self call Heav'n to witness it.

Corisc.
Hell and Damnation thy black soul confound,
And everlasting Horrour shade me round.

Sylv.
But I'm
Too gentle: In this posture I appear
More like a Courtier than a Ravisher.
Fury's the garb my Inj'ries should wear:
Beast as thou art, I'le drag thee by the hair.
[Lets go her Arms, and twists his hands in her Hair.
My Rage cannot commit an act too foul:
Fright me away? I'm not that easie Fool—
As he drags her away, her Hair comes off; and Sylvano falls; at which time she runs off.
Perdition seize her. Oh she's gone; was e're
Such an Escape, such a defeat as here!
“Was ever man so Fooled! Thou all made up of Wiles,
“Was't not enough thy words, thy looks, thy smiles
Were all deceit; false, treacherously fair,
“But you must likewise falsifie your hair.
“The glowing Amber, and the flowing Gold
“Which you, mad Poets, so extol, behold!
“Blush, blush now at your errour, and recant
“Your thread-bare Theam; instead whereof, go paint
“The arts of a deform'd and impious Witch;
“Breaking up Sepulchres by Night; from which
“She steals the hair, which upon Deaths-head grows,
“To Imp her own; which she so neatly does,
“That she has made you praise, what you shou'd more
“Then dire Megæras Snaky locks abhor.

[Exit.