University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Second.

Enter Montano, Amaryllis bound, with Attendants.
Mont.
“Base present Age, which dost with thy impure
“Delights, the beauty of the soul obscure,
“Teaching to Nurse a Dropsie in the Veins,
Bridling the look, but givest desire the Reins.
“Thus like a Net that spread, and cover'd lyes,
“With leaves and tempting Flowers, thou dost disguise
“With coy and holy Guiles a Womans heart;
“Mak'st Life a Play, and Vertue but a Part.
“They think it not a fault Loves Sweets to steal,
“So from the World they can the Theft conceal.

Amar.
“Had I been guilty, then it wou'd have been
“Less grievous to me to have Death pay sin.
But now to dye thus Innocent, in all
“My pride of Youth and Fortune thus to fall,
“Is a sad case.

Mont.
A sad one 'tis indeed,
When at one stroke th'Arcadian hopes must bleed.
Thou born of Heavenly Race, born to asswage
A Nation's griefs, t'appease a Goddess Rage;
“One that for Heavenly Beauty, merited
“Temples and sacred Victims, to be led
“Thy self to th'Altar as a Sacrifice.
“Who could behold it without melting Eyes.
Oh wretched fall!

Amar.
“For all this have not I
“Transgrest the Law, but Innocently dye.
“Must I then dye Montano, must I dye?
“None left to hear, none to defend me left?
“Of all abandon'd, of all hope bereft?
“Only of such a mocking pitty made
“The wretched object as affords no aid.

Mont.
“Be patient Nymph, and give me cause to tell,
“Though thou didst ill, yet that thou suffer'st well.
“Look up to Heaven, that gave thee Birth, and be
“Content with what is writ above for thee.

Amar.
Oh 'tis a cruel Sentence, whether given
By Men or Gods, or writ in Earth or Heaven:
But writ in Heaven I am sure it cannot be,
For that does my unsullied Bosom see;
And there my injur'd Innocence is known,
Stands fair, and shines before th'Eternal Throne.
“But what does that avail, if I my Life must pay?

Mirt.
“Who fears to dye, dyes every hour i'th'day.
“Why hang'st thou back, and draw'st a painful breath?
“Death has no ill in't, but the fear of Death;
“And they that dye when they have heard their Doom,
“Flye from their Death.

Amar.
“Perhaps some help may come.

Mont.
Good Nymph no more, our duty calls us hence;
I with your stay no longer can dispence.

Amar.
“Dear Woods adieu then, my dear Woods adieu,
“Receive these sighs (my last ones) into you,
“Till my cold shade, forc'd from her seat by dire
“And unjust Seel, to your lov'd shades retire;
“For sink to Hell it can't, being Innocent,
“Nor soar to Heaven, laden with discontent.
“Mirtillo, dear Mirtillo, most accurst
“The day I saw, the day I pleas'd thee first:
Without thy Love, death would less frightful be;
My greatest pain in death, is, losing thee.
Enter Corisca.
Is this the Nymph accuses me, dear Friend,
Thy goodness cannot to such crimes descend;
Rescue my Honour, and my Life defend.

Corisc.
Dear Amaryllis, your own actions blame;
You lost my Friendship when you lost your Fame.

Amar.
Nay, then my ruine does too plain appear,
I little thought such Treason harbour'd here.

Corisc.
Treason! Heaven knows my heart.—Treason in me?
No, I'de not wrong my mortal Enemy:
Because I've spoyld her amorous design,
She would repair her Fame by wounding mine:
But Sir, I am a Witness of her sin,
I saw this Wanton Nymph steal softly in:
A glowing colour all her Face o'respread;
It made me blush to see her look so red.
At her approach, behind a Bush I stept,
And unperceiv'd, my watching station kept:
The eager Youth came after her in hast;
His looks less fearful, and his steps more fast,
And blustring, rusht into the Cave, whilst I,
Oh the strange Charms of Curiosity—

Amar.
Oh my tir'd patience! Oh thou barbarous
In humane Nymph, t'abuse my Virtue thus;
What Treacheries did ever I design
Against thy blood, that thou should'st thirst for mine.

Corisc.
Abuse thy Virtue! thou hast none to wrong;
But not to make th'unpleasing tale too long,
Close to the Rock my list'ning Ear I laid,
And th'hollow Cave this gentle sound convey'd;
On the cold ground, as the Nymph panting lay,
In a faint dying Voyce, I heard her say,
What shift does poor Love make? to which the Swain,
With a brisk joy, thus Answer'd her again:
No shining Monarchs in their Beds of Gold,
And their proud Arms do so much Treasure hold,
Not half my Bliss, nor half thy sweetness tast.

Amar.
Oh torture me no more, dear Sir, make hast,
Send me to Execution, let me dye;
'Tis worse than death to hear this Blasphemy.

[Ex. guarded
Corisc.
See with what hast she takes her self away;
Her guilt's so terrible, she dares not stay:
Yet there's such winning Beauty in her Face,
That I protest, were I to judge her case,
My tender-hearted Nature is so good,
I should forgive her sin: I Vow I shou'd.

Exit.
Mont.
“Fair Golden Age, when Milk was th'only Food:
“The Cradle of the Infant-World the Wood,
“Rockt by the Winds; when th'untoucht Flock did bear
“Their dear Young for themselves. None then did fear
“The Sword or Poyson; no black thoughts begun
“T'Eclipse the light of the Eternal Sun:
“Nor wandring pines unto a forreign shore,
“Or War, or Riches (a worse mischief) bore.
“That Idol, Honour, which th'Ambitious blinds,
“Was not till now the Tyrant of our minds;
No Lawless wishes then, no Perjuries
Corrupted Love; then the blind God had Eyes.
“Husband and Lover signifi'd one thing;
“True Love, and the delights true Love does bring,
“Was Honour to those sober minds that knew
“No Happiness, but what from Virtue grew;
Dear Heaven that state of Innocence renew.

Exit.
Enter Mirtillo.
Mirt.
Wretched Mirtillo, to the Temple flye,
And there behold thy Amaryllis dye;
A Martyr to thy groundless Jealousie.
Oh damn'd Corisca, thou Infernal Hag;
Do, boast thy Treasons, and thy Trophies brag;
And as the greatest Curse that I can give,
May'st thou but dye with half the pains I live.