 | Dione |  |
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ACT II.
SCENE I.
Lycidas lying on the grave of Menalcas.Lycidas.
When shall these scalding fountains cease to flow?
How long will life sustain this load of woe:
Why glows the morn? roll back, thou source of light,
And feed my sorrows with eternal night.
Come, sable death! give, give the welcome stroke;
The raven calls thee from yon blasted oak.
What pious care my ghastful lid shall close?
What decent hand my frozen limbs compose?
O happy shepherd, free from anxious pains,
Who now art wandring in the sighing plains
Of blest Elysium; where in myrtle groves
Enamour'd ghosts bemoan their former loves.
Open, thou silent grave; for lo! I come
To meet Menalcas in the fragrant gloom;
There shall my bosom burn with friendship's flame,
The same our passion, and our fate the same;
There, like two nightingales on neighb'ring boughs,
Alternate strains shall mourn our frustrate vows.
But if cold death should close Parthenia's eye,
And should her beauteous form come gliding by:
Friendship would soon in jealous fear be lost,
And kindling hate pursue thy rival ghost.
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SCENE II.
LYCIDAS. DIONE in a shepherd's habit.Lycidas.
Hah! who comes here? turn hence, be timely wise;
Trust not thy safety to Parthenia's eyes.
As from the bearing faulcon flies the dove,
So, wing'd with fear, Parthenia flies from love.
Dione.
If in these vales the fatal beauty stray,
From the cold marble rise; let's haste away,
Why ly you panting, like the smitten deer?
Trust not the dangers which you bid me fear.
Lycidas.
Bid the lur'd lark, whom tangling nets surprize,
On soaring pinion rove the spacious skies;
Bid the cag'd linnet range the leafy grove;
Then bid my captive heart get loose from love.
The snares of death are o'er me. Hence; beware;
Lest you should see her, and like me despair.
Dione.
No. Let her come; and seek this vale's recess;
In all the beauteous negligence of dress;
Though Cupid send a shaft in ev'ry glance,
Though all the graces in her step advance,
My heart can stand it all. Be firm, my breast;
Th'ensnaring oath, the broken vow detest:
That flame, which other charms have pow'r to move,
O give it not the sacred name of love!
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Love's seated in the soul, and never dies.
What then avail her charms? my constant heart
Shall gaze secure and mock a second dart.
Lycidas.
But you perhaps a happier fate have found,
And the same hand that gave, now heals the wound;
Or art thou left abandon'd and forlorn,
A wretch, like me, the sport of pride and scorn?
Dione.
O tell me, shepherd, hath thy faithless maid
False to her vow thy flatter'd hope betray'd?
Did her smooth speech engage thee to believe?
Did she protest and swear, and then deceive?
Such are the pangs I feel!
Lycidas.
—The haughty fair
Contemns my suff'rings, and disdains to hear.
Let meaner beauties learn'd in female snares
Entice the swain with half-consenting airs;
Such vulgar arts ne'er aid her conqu'ring eyes,
And yet, where-e'er she turns, a lover sighs.
Vain is the steady constancy you boast;
All other love at sight of her is lost.
Dione.
True constancy no time, no power can move.
He that hath known to change, ne'er knew to love.
Though the dear author of my hapless flame
Pursue another; still my heart's the same.
Am I for ever left? (excuse these tears)
May your kind friendship soften all my cares!
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What comfort can a wretch, like me, bestow?
Dione.
He best can pity who hath felt the woe.
Lycidas.
Since diff'rent objects have our souls possest,
No rival fears our friendship shall molest.
Dione.
Come let us leave the shade of these brown hills,
And drive our flocks beside the steaming rills,
Should the fair tyrant to these vales return,
How would thy breast with double fury burn!
Go hence, and seek thy peace.
SCENE III.
LYCIDAS. DIONE. LAURA.Laura.
—Fly, fly this place;
Beware of love; the proudest of her race
This way approaches: from among the pines,
Where from the steep the winding path declines,
I saw the nymph descend.
Lycidas.
—She comes, she comes;
From her the passing zephyrs steal perfumes,
As from the vi'let's bank; with odours sweet
Breathes ev'ry gale: spring blooms beneath her feet.
Yes, 'tis my fairest; here she's wont to rove.
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Say, by what signs I might have known thy love?
Lycidas.
My love is fairer than the snowy breast
Of the tall swan, whose proudly-swelling chest
Divides the wave; her traces loose behind,
Play on her neck, and wanton in the wind;
The rising blushes, which her cheek o'er-spread,
Are op'ning roses in the lily's bed.
Know'st thou Parthenia?
Laura.
—Wretched is the slave
Who serves such pride! behold Menalcas' grave!
Yet if Alexis and this sighing swain
Wish to behold the tyrant of the plain,
Let us behind these myrtles twining arms
Retire unseen; from thence survey her charms,
Wild as the chanting thrush upon the spray,
At man's approach she swftly flies, away.
Like the young hare, I've seen the panting maid
Stop, listen, run; of ev'ry wind afraid.
Lycidas.
And wilt thou never from thy vows depart?
Shepherd, beware—now fortify thy heart.
[To Dione.
[Lycidas, Dione, and Laura retire behind the boughs.
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SCENE IV.
PARTHENIA. LYCIDAS. DIONE. LAURA.Parthenia.
This melancholy scene demands a grone.
Hah! what inscription marks this weeping stone?
‘O pow'r of beauty! here Menalcas lies.
‘Gaze not, ye shepherds, on Parthenia's eyes.
Why did Heav'n form me with such polish'd care?
Why cast my features in a mold so fair?
If blooming beauty was a blessing meant,
Why are my sighing hours deny'd content?
The downy peach, that glows with sunny dyes,
Feeds the black snail, and lures voracious flies;
The juicy pear invites the feather'd kind,
And pecking finches scoop the golden rind;
But beauty suffers more pernicious wrongs,
Blasted by envy, and censorious tongues.
How happy lives the nymph, whose comely face
And pleasing glances boast sufficient grace
To wound the swain she loves! no jealous fears
Shall vex her nuptial state with nightly tears,
Nor am'rous youths, to push their foul pretence,
Infest her days with dull impertinence.
But why talk I of love? my guarded heart
Disowns his pow'r, and turns aside the dart.
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‘Gaze not, ye shepherds, on Parthenia's eyes.’
Come, Lycidas, the mournful lay peruse,
Lest thou, like him Parthenia's eyes accuse.
[She stands in a melancholy posture looking on the tomb.
Lycidas.
Call'd she not Lycidas?—I come, my fair;
See gen'rous pity melts into a tear,
And her heart softens. Now's the tender hour,
Assist me, love, exert thy sov'reign power
To tame the scornful maid;
Dione.
—Rash swain, be wise:
'Tis not from thee or him, from love she flies.
Leave her, forget her.
[They hold Lycidas.
Luara.
—Why this furious haste?
Lycidas.
Unhand me; loose me.
Dione.
—Sister, hold him fast.
To follow her, is, to prolong despair.
Shepherd, you must not go.
Lycidas.
—Bold youth forbear.
Hear me, Parthenia.
Parthenia.
—From behind the shade
Methought a voice some list'ning spy betray'd.
Yes, I'm observ'd.
[She runs out.
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—Stay, nymph; thy flight suspend:
She hears me not—when will my sorrows end!
As over-spent with toil, my heaving breast
Beats quick. 'Tis death alone can give me rest.
[He remains in a fixt melancholy.
SCENE V.
LYCIDAS. DIONE. LAURA.Laura.
Recall thy scatter'd sense, bid reason wake,
Subdue thy passion.
Lycidas.
—Shall I never speak?
She's gone, she's gone—kind shepherd, let me rest
My troubled head upon thy friendly breast.
The forest seems to move,—O cursed state!
I doom'd to love, and she condemn'd to hate!
Tell me, Alexis, art thou still the same?
Did not her brighter eyes put out the flame
Of thy first love? did not thy flutt'ring heart,
Whene'er she rais'd her look, confess the dart?
Dione.
I own the nymph is fairest of her race,
Yet I unmov'd can on this beauty gaze,
Mindful of former promise; all that's dear,
My thoughts, my dreams; my ev'ry wish is there.
Since then our hopes are lost; let friendship's tye
Calm our distress, and slighted love supply;
Let us together drive our fleecy store,
And of ungrateful woman think no more.
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'Tis death alone can raze her from my breast.
Laura.
Why shines thy love so far above the rest?
Nature, 'tis true, in ev'ry outward grace,
Her nicest hand employ'd; her lovely face
With beauteous feature stampt; with rosy dyes
Warm'd her fair cheek; with lightning arm'd her eyes:
But if thou search the secrets of her mind,
Where shall thy cheated soul a virtue find?
Sure hell with cruelty her breast supply'd.
How did she glory when Menalcas dy'd!
Pride in her bosom reigns; she's false, she's vain;
She first entices, then insults the swain;
Shall fmale cunning lead thy heart astray?
Shepherd, be free; and scorn for scorn repay.
Lycidas.
How woman talks of woman!
Dione.
—Hence depart;
Let a long absence cure thy love-sick heart.
To some far grove retire, her sight disclaim,
Nor with her charms awake the dying flame.
Let not an hour thy happy flight suspend;
But go not, Lycidas, without thy friend.
Together let us seek the chearful plains,
And lead the dance among the sportive swains,
Devoid of care.
Laura.
—Or else the groves disdain,
Nor with the sylvan walk indulge thy pain.
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The courtly nymph her tresses binds with gold;
To captivate the youths; the youths appear
In fine array; in ringlets waves their hair
Rich with ambrosial scents, the fair to move,
And all the business of the day is love.
There from the gaudy train select a dame,
Her willing glance shall catch an equal flame.
Lycidas.
Name not the court.—The thought my soul confounds,
And with Dione's wrongs my bosom wounds.
Heav'n justly vindicates the faithful maid;
And now are all my broken vows repaid.
Perhaps she now laments my fancy'd death
With tears unfeign'd; and thinks my gasping breath
Sigh'd forth her name. O guilt, no more upbraid!
Yes. I fond innocence and truth betray'd.
[Aside.
[Dione and Laura apart.
Dione.
Hark! how reflection wakes his conscious heart.
From my pale lids the trickling sorrows start;
How shall my breast the swelling sighs confine!
Laura.
O smooth thy brow, conceal our just design:
Be yet a while unknown. If grief arise,
And force a passage through thy gushing eyes.
Quickly retire, thy sorrows to compose
Or with a look serene disguise thy woes.
[Dione is going out. Laura walks at a distance.
Lycidas.
Canst thou, Alexis, leave me thus distrest?
Where's now the boasted friendship of thy breast?
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In social herds o'er-spread the pastures fair,
When op'ning hounds the warmer scent pursue,
And force the destin'd victim from the crew,
Oft' he returns, and fain would join the band,
While all their horns the panting wretch withstand?
Such is thy friendship; thus might I confide.
Dione.
Why wilt thou censure what thou ne'er hast try'd?
Sooner shall swallows leave their callow brood,
Who with their plaintive chirpings cry for food;
Sooner shall hens expose their infant care,
When the spread kite sails wheeling in the air,
Than I forsake thee when by danger prest;
Wrong not by jealous fears a faithful breast.
Lycidas.
If thy fair-spoken tongue thy bosom shows,
There let the secrets of my soul repose.
Dione.
Far be suspicion; in my truth confide,
O let my heart thy load of cares divide!
Lycidas.
Know then, Alexis, that in vain I strove
To break her chain, and free my soul from love;
On the lim'd twig thus finches beat their wings,
Still more entangled in the clammy strings.
The slow-pac'd days have witness'd my despair,
Upon my weary couch sits wakeful care
Down my flush'd cheek the flowing sorrows run,
As dews descend to weep the absent sun.
O lost Parthenia!
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—These wild thoughts suspend;
And in thy kind commands instruct thy friend.
Lycidas.
Whene'er my faltring tongue would urge my cause,
Deaf is her ear, and sullen she withdraws.
Go then, Alexis, seek the scornful maid,
In tender eloquence my suff'rings plead;
Of slighted passion you the pangs have known;
O judge my secret anguish by your own!
Dione.
Had I the skill inconstant hearts to move,
My longing soul had never lost my love.
My feeble tongue, in these soft arts untry'd,
Can ill support the thunder of her pride;
When she shall bid me to thy bower repair,
How shall my trembling lips her threats declare!
How shall I tell thee, that she could behold,
With brow serene, thy corse all pale and cold
Beat on the dashing billow! shouldst thou go
Where the tall hill o'er-hangs the rocks below,
Near thee thy tyrant could unpitying stand,
Nor call thee back, nor stretch a saving hand.
Wilt thou then still persist to tempt thy fate,
To feed her pride and gratify her hate?
Lycidas.
Know, unexperienc'd youth, that woman's mind
Oft' shifts her passions, like the inconstant wind;
Sudden she rages, like the troubled main,
Now sinks the storm, and all is calm again.
Watch the kind moment, then my wrongs impart,
And the soft tale shall glide into her heart.
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No. Let her wander in the lonely grove,
And never hear the tender voice of love.
Let her a while, neglected by the swain,
Pass by, nor sighs molest the chearful plain;
Thus shall the fury of her pride be laid;
Thus humble into love the haughty maid.
Lycidas.
Vain are attempts my passion to controul.
Is this the balm to cure my fainting soul?
Dione.
Deep then among the green wood shades I'll rove,
And seek with weary'd pace thy wander'd love;
Prostrate I'll fall, and with incessant prayers
Hang on her knees, and bathe her feet with tears;
If sighs of pity can her ear incline,
(O Lycidas, my life is wrapt in thine!)
[Aside.
I'll charge her from thy voice to hear the tale,
Thy voice more sweet than notes along the vale
Breath'd from the warbling pipe: the moving strain
Shall stay her flight, and conquer her disdain.
Yet if she hear; should love the message speed,
Then dies all hope;—then must Dione bleed.
[Aside.
Lycidas.
Haste then, dear faithful swain. Beneath those yews
Whose sable arms the brownest shade diffuse,
Where all around, to shun the fervent sky,
The panting flocks in ferny thickets lie;
There with impatience shall I wait my friend,
O'er the wide prospect frequent glances send
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A tender welcome, may thy love be kind!
[Ex. Lycidas.
SCENE VI.
DIONE. LAURA.Dione.
Methinks I'm now surrounded by despair,
And all my with'ring hopes are lost in air.
Thus the young linnet on the rocking bough
Hears through long woods autumnal tempests blow,
With hollow blasts the clashing branches bend,
And yellow show'rs of rustling leaves descend:
She sees the friendly shelter from her fly,
Nor dare her little pinions trust the sky;
But on the naked spray and wintry air,
All shiv'ring, hopeless, mourns the dying year,
What have I promis'd? rash, unthinking maid!
By thy own tongue thy wishes are betray'd!
[Laura advances.
Laura.
Why walk'st thou thus disturb'd with fantic air?
Why roll thy eyes with madness and despair?
Dione.
[Musing.
How wilt thou bear to see her pride give way?
When thus the yielding nymph shall bid thee say,
‘Let not the shepherd seek the silent grave,
‘Say, that I bid him live.—If hope can save.
Laura.
Hath he discern'd thee through the swain's disguise,
And now alike thy love and friendship flies?
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Yes. Firm and faithful to the promise made,
I'll range each sunny hill, each lawn and glade.
Laura.
'Tis Laura speaks. O calm your troubled mind.
Dione.
Where shall my search this envy'd beauty find?
I'll go, my faithless shepherd's cause to plead,
And with my tears accuse the rival maid.
Yet, should her soften'd heart to love incline!
Laura.
If those are all thy fears; Evander's thine.
Dione.
Why should we both in sorrow waste our days?
If love unfeign'd my constant bosom sways,
His happiness alone is all I prize,
And that is center'd in Parthenia's eyes.
Haste then, with earnest zeal her love implore,
To bless his hours;—when thou shalt breathe no more.
| Dione | |