University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Third.

Enter Gerana and Dorinda.
Dor.
To follow Sylvio, is that a Crime?
I'de wander o're the World to follow him.
Not Savage Desarts with their Beasts of prey,
And all their frightful Rocks should stop my way.

Ger.
Come dear Dorinda, do not sigh in vain;
Come Love no more, but shake off all this pain.
Should Maids, in wild Young Men, place their delight;
Alas, they're Creatures not to please, but fright.

Dor.
You were young once, and if you told me true,
You said You Lov'd, And did they frighten you?

Ger.
But when I Loved, 'twas at a Womans Age.
I stood upon my Guard against their rage.
I was more able too the storm to bear:
But they are Creatures which You ought to fear.
Ravenous as Lyons, and more fierce than they:
Whilst Slavish Women must their Wills obey,
And to their furious Appetites give way:
They have desires, to which You cannot bow.

Dor.
But you have tryed, and you shall tell me how.

Ger.
Poor Innocence, you know not what you say:
There's Debt, in Love, you are too young to pay.
Alas, thou'rt Ignorant—

Dor.
Why then I'de learn.

Ger.
Alas, your own desires you can't discern.

Dor.
To please my Love, What is it that I want?
Can he ask any thing I cannot grant?
No, I have so much Love, that I believe,
I've rather more than I know how to give.
Instruct me, for I'de please him if I cou'd.
What are those Debts?—I know they must be good.
Love is a God, I've heard our Shepherds say:
And all that Gods command, we should obey.
If I've more hearts than yet I understand,
Tell me, they shall be all at his command.

Ger.
Inquire no farther—pretty Innocence,
But think of Loving Sylvio seaven years hence.

Dor.
And must I stay so long, so long a time?

Ger.
Your Beauty then will be in all its prime.

Dor.
Have I not all my Beauty yet? is it
For that my Sylvio cannot Love me yet?
My wants in Beauty are this way supply'd,
I've Love enough, what e're I want beside.

Ger.
Do but observe the Beauties of the May:
Yours will be once as ripe, and bright as they.
Stay till your worth is better understood.
All these gay flowers were once but in the Bud.

Dor.
Must Virgins then grow up as Roses do?
Pray, how is that?

Ger.
To Age their Sweets they owe.
Whilst by th'warm Sun, and the kind Spring, they blow.

Dor.
If then my want of growth be all my fau't,
Me-thinks I need not stay seav'n years for that.
Let but my Sylvio Love me: He has such charms,
Me-thinks I could shoot up in Sylvios Arms.
His charming looks would make me any thing.
So kind a Sun would soon bring on the Spring.

Enter Sylvio and Hunts-men crossing the Stage: Sylvio seeing Dorinda, offers to go.
Dor.
Stay Sylvio, do not flye me.

Ger.
Cruel, stay.
Cannot such suppliant Beauty stop your way?

Sylv.
My Torment here.
[aside.
To stay, I want the pow'r.
I've no time now to fool away an hour.

Ger.
Inhumane; is this treat a recompence
For all the groans of dying Innocence?
Thou man, more barbarous than the Scythian Race,
And Savager than the wild Beasts you chace.

Dor.
Dearer than Life, and sweeter than the Spring.
My Joy, my Love, my Heart, my every thing.
Oh unkind Nymph, can you so Cruel prove,
To talk so harshly to the Man I Love?
Dear Sylvio—What have I said—
Me-thinks I blush, yet why, I do not know.
Something I've said or done, I should not do.
To say I Love him, there's no sin in that:
To tell the truth, sure cannot be a Fau't.
And yet me-think—
A secret shame into my face does flye,
And says 'tis men should Court, and Maids deny.

Sylv.
What is the cause fair Nymph—

Dor.
Fair Nymph! Ah no:
You call me fair, but do not think me so.

Sylv.
What idle frenzy can so pow'rful be,
To make you take such pains to follow me?

Dor.
Why do you ask? As if you did not know.
I would be near you whereso're you go:
Do, let me follow you, let me be near.
“I'le hold your Arrows, and your Quiver bear:
And if your precious Life should e're,
By the wilde Bore you chace, in danger be,
I'le step between, and he shall first Kill me.
In Sylvio's presence is my sole delight:
On you I think all Day, and dream all Night.
And in the Morning, when by restless Cares
I early wake, and go to say my Pray'rs,
All on a sudden, when I kneeling bow,
And think I speak to Heav'n, I Pray to You.
Yet unkind Sylvio from Dorinda flyes.
Takes all my Heart, yet gives me none of His.

Sylv.
Why do you throw away a heart so ill?
I never yet knew Love, nor ever will.
Or if I did, 'tis in the Chace, the Groves
And Woods: My Hawks and Hounds have all my Loves.

Dor.
In Love with Hawks and Hounds! Those Creatures, Sir, have got
Their Loves already. They're by Nature taught
To Love amongst themselves. Those humble Creatures too,
Are not deserving to be Loved by You.

Sylv.
Well Nymph, I see I wrong you by my stay;
I'le take the Cause then of your Griefs away.
Adieu.

Dor.
Stay but one minute; must we part
So soon? I see the cause of all my smart:
'Tis Amaryllis takes up all your heart.

Sylv.
Before I go,
That little satisfaction you shall have,
I gave my hand; my heart I never gave.

Dor.
Do you not Love her then?

Sylv.
By Heav'ns, not I.

Dor.
Does she want Charms?

Sylv.
Their Influence I defie.

Dor.
But are you sure you do not Love her?

Sylv.
Why?

Dor.
Do you not think, and wish you know not how,
And Dream of her a Nights, as I of You?

Sylv.
I think not of her waking, nor asleep,
My heart does no such worthless Triffles keep.

Dor.
You've eas'd me of I know not how much pain:
I'm Charm'd to hear you talk with such disdain.
Malice or Love, or both, what e're it be,
I'm pleas'd he Loves not her, though he hates me.

[The Hunts-men hollow from within.
Sylv.
Hark, I am call'd, my pleasure I delay.
Farewell.

Dor.
You shall not go.

Sylv.
I must not stay.

Dor.
Have you no Love, nor pitty, cruel Man?

Sylv.
I pitty you as much as e're I can.

Dor.
Well Sylvio,
If by your Hate I'm Doom'd to be undone;
I'm the first slighted Maid that dyed so soon.

Sylv.
Well pow'rful Nymph,
For the unrest, the sighs, and pains, so long
You've borne, in Charity t'a thing so young,
For once I will be kind.

Dor.
Will you be kind?
Kind to Dorinda! Oh my lightned mind?—
And will you Love me?—I ne're lived till now.—
Shall I be yours?—My Joys too mighty grow.
If the unrest I've borne your kindness win,
To keep you kind, I'le never sleep agen.
And if you've Charity, because I'm young,
Be sure I'le ne're grow old—but why so long
A silence? why this distance? Did you say
You would be kind, and do not know the way.
Swains, when they're kind, their dearest Nymphs approach,
With all their greedy joys their hands they touch,
And kiss 'em o're and o're.
Then round their Necks their twining Arms they throw:
Were I a Swain in Love, I should do so.

Sylv.
Hold gentle Nymph, and give me leave to speak.
Do not my promis'd Charity mistake,
Your softness has my stubborn spirit bow'd
So much, that I would Love you if I could.
And this Effeminate Confession, none
Of your whole Sex could win, but you alone.

Dor.
And is it thus, you're kind?

Sylv.
Love I ne're can.
Within my Breast that Feaver never ran.
You have my Pitty; all I can I'le grant.
Nor will I say I Love you, when I cant.

Dor.
You cannot Love?

Sylv.
My kindness is so great,
I will not pay your Love with Counterfeit.
Nay, in compassion to your sighs and tears,
Each rising Sun shall hear my Zealous Prayers:
I'le beg kind Heav'n that you may Love no more,
And your Conversion on my knees implore.
Once more fare-well.

Dor.
Why all this hasty flight?
Stay, and be cruel still, and kill me quite.

Exit. Sylv.
Gerr.
E'ne let him go, and to requite this scorn,
May he by Heaven's pursuing Vengeance, torne
By some wild Monster in a Desart dye,
And injur'd Virgins curse his memory.
The noyse comes near; flye hence, no longer stay;
What if the Savage Beast should come this way,
And Chafed with Hunting, spill your precious blood?

Dor.
Alas, I would forgive him, if he shou'd.
Since unkind Sylvio from my Love does flye,
Young though I am, I'm Old enough to dye.

Exeunt.