University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Amintas, Thyrsis.
Amin.
I've often found that Rocks and Waves
Have answer'd my complaint: But oh!
I never found, nor hope to find
The Nymph, whom I've so long ador'd,
As gentle ev'n as Rocks and Waves.
Is she a Woman? One may well suspect
If she's of humane race, and yet I see
Her beautiful and young, her form
Of such a mould, so soft, so sweet,
That 'twere impossible to think
It lodg'd a Soul averse to Love.
If to my cost I had not found
That things inanimate are less
Insensible of pity than her heart.

Thyrsis.
Lambs feed on Grass, and Wolves on Lambs,
They're satisfy'd in time; but Love,
Who feeds on Tears, is never satisfy'd.

Amin.
If Tears cou'd glut his appetite,
He had been surfeited e're this:
Or if the Virgin cou'd be mov'd
With Seas of Tears I had been blest:
No, they both hunger after Blood,
And I resolve to give 'em mine.

Thyr.
‘Ah! why, Amintas, will you talk
‘Of Blood? If she is so severe,
‘Are there not other Maids as young,
‘As fair as she? Look out and try,
‘Another Beauty may be kind.

Amint.
‘Where shall I look, or how expect to find?
‘A Maid to please me, when I've lost my self.

Thyr.
Don't flatter your despair, but hope
This cruel fair may yield at last:
Lyons and Tygers may be tam'd,
And she you Love with Love be overcome.

Amin.
But who so wretched, who so near
To death as I am, can be pleas'd
With Life, or bear the torment long?

Thyr.
The torment will not be so long
As you suspect, for Womens minds
Are movable, like Aspin leaves;
And what they may this minute hate,
They'll love the next. But say, my friend,
Where lives? and who's this haughty Maid,
That treats Amintas with such scorn?
You've told me often that you love,
But never told me whom: be free,
And open all your heart, without reserve.

Amin.
Well, you shall hear what every Wood,
What all our Hills and Streams have heard,
But no Man ever knew before;
'Tis fit now I'm so near the Grave,
Some friend should know the fatal cause,
And write my sorrows on the Tomb,
Where my pale body shall be laid,
That every passenger may read
My fate, and she for whom I dye
Be pleas'd to triumph o're my dust:
It may be when she sees how far
Despair has carry'd me, the thought
(And yet I fear I hope too much)
Will fetch a sigh, or force a tear;
And make her pity me, and wish
That poor Amintas were alive.
Hear then—

Thyr.
I hearken: and perhaps
For better ends than you suppose.

Amin.
While I was yet a little Boy,
Scarce tall enough to reach a Bough,
Or pluck an Apple from a Tree,
I felt my heart engag'd to love
The fairest Creature ever liv'd;
Sylvia, the glory of the Woods,
Montano's and Cydippe's Daughter:
Sylvia, whose beauty, mien and youth,
Charm every heart as well as mine;
Our Houses joyn'd, but were not half
So close united as our Hearts:
Two Friends ne're lov'd as we did then;
Two Turtles ne're so fondly sought
Each others company, as we did;
Our pleasures with our years agreed,
The same diversions suited both;
We sometimes Hunted, sometimes Fish'd,
Sometimes we laid our Nets for Birds,
And always shar'd the Game we caught.
But while we pleasantly pursu'd
Our mutual sports, alas! I felt
Strange wishes growing in my heart:
Like Flow'rs that on a sudden spring
From beds where they were never set:
Whene're we parted now I wept
For grief, and when we met, for joy.
I suckt in poison from her eyes,
Which seem'd delicious to the taste,
But left a bitter smart behind.
I saw her now with new delight;
I found new Graces in her face;
I often sigh'd, but knew not why;
I lov'd, but did not know 'twas love,
Till chance discover'd it.

Thyr.
Pray how?

Amin.
Sylvia, Phillis, and my self,
Sitting underneath a Shade,
Saw a Bee fly round the bank,
Gathering Honey from the Flow'rs
Which adorn'd our happy seat:
Weary'd there, he fled to us,
Pitcht on Phillis, who has Cheeks
Fairer, sweeter than the Rose,
Fancying every Grace a Flow'r,
There he hung a while, and suckt
Sweets much richer than his own!
Phillis wept to feel the smart;
Sylvia bid her weep no more,
I, she crys, can say a Charm,
That will quickly give you ease:
'Tis a Secret which I learnt
Of wise Aricia, to whom
For her Art I gave my Horn,
Tipt with Ivory and Gold.
Then she put her fragrant Lips
To the Cheek the Bee had stung,
Said some Verses o're the Wound,
And as soon as Sylvia spoke,
Phillis felt the pain no more.
See the wonderful effects,
See the force of Magic words,
Or, what I would rather think,
See what Sylvia's Lips can do,
Every thing they touch they heal.

Thyr.
How, Amintas, could you find
Love had wounded you by this?

Amin.
I till this desir'd no more
Than to see her radiant Eyes,
Or to listen to her Voice,
Soft as Rivulets that glide
Murmuring thro our smiling Vales;
Soft as Zephyr's evening breath,
Playing with the Leaves of Trees:
But as soon as I observ'd
What her Lips had lately done,
Then I wish'd 'em close to mine,
And, I know not how, contriv'd
Ways to taste of what I wish'd.

Thyr.
None want artifice to gain
What they covet to possess;
All are cunning when in love.

Amin.
I, to touch her rosy mouth,
Feign'd a Bee had stung me too;
And complain'd with such an air,
That it seem'd to beg the Cure,
Which my tongue cou'd ne'r have askt.
Sylvia kindly did to me
What she had to Phillis done,
And her Lips thus fix'd to mine,
Cur'd the counterfeited smart,
But encreast my real pain.
Bees sure never from their Flow'rs
Drew such Honey as I suckt
From my Sylvia's humid kisses.
Sure no Roses but what grow
On her Lips can yield such sweets.
Tho my pleasure was disturb'd
By my shame, and guilty fears:
Yet I counterfeited still,
And by this deceit prevail'd
O're her to repeat the Charm.
Something sweet from ev'ry kiss,
Mixt with poyson, struck my heart;
Which at last grew so inflam'd,
That when once we met to play,
With some other Nymphs and Swains,
I, just dying with my fears,
Softly whisper'd her, I Love.

Thyr.
How did Sylvia take the news?
That you seem so much concern'd.

Amin.
Soon her fiery blushes shew'd
Both her anger and her shame;
She stood silent, but I read
By her silence what she meant,
That she never wou'd forgive me.
Now she flies me, and will since
Not so much as hear me speak.
Thrice our Golden Fields have bent
Under their rich loads, and thrice
Winter has with nipping frosts
Made our Groves and Forests bare,
Since I've try'd a thousand ways
To appease her, but I find
Death can only calm her rage.
Death shall calm her then, my blood
Shall appease her for my fault.
I cou'd dye, methinks, with joy,
Were I sure my Death would make her
Either sorrowful or glad;
And I know not which to wish:
Yes, her Pity would reward
All my sufferings, and shew
What my Constancy deserv'd.
Yet, ah! why should I desire
That her beauteous Eyes should weep,
Or her Rest be lost for me?

Thyr.
Oh! could she hear such killing words,
Such just complaints, 'twould melt her heart,
And make her pity ye.

Amin.
I fear it.
But were she sensible of pity,
She flies, and will not hear me speak:
What hopes then that my just complaints
Will melt her heart, that must not reach her ear?

Thyr.
Cease, cease your grief, I'll plead your Cause,
Perhaps my Reasons may succeed,
And something promises they will,
If you would not despair.

Amin.
‘I've reason to despair for ever,
‘Sage Mopsus has foretold my fate:
‘Mopsus, who understands so well
‘The virtues of all Herbs and Drugs;
‘Who by long study has acquir'd
‘To know things past, and things to come;
‘Mopsus has said, I must despair.

Thyr.
‘Which Mopsus? He who speaks so fair?
‘And with grave smiles declares events:
‘Dark and treacherous to deceive
‘Such as suppose his Oracles divine.
‘He tells them, with a solemn look,
‘Things that will never come to pass,
‘His Prophecies prove always lies.
‘Believe me, for I know him false.
‘Be chearful, you have cause enough
‘To hope your fortune will be good,
‘Since Mopsus has pronounc'd it ill.

Amin.
‘Tell me, if you'd revive my hopes,
‘What makes you, Thyrsis, think him false?

Thyr.
‘When I first settled in these Plains, I lov'd
‘Like you, to hear him talk, and thought his words
‘As wise as they were grave, but quickly found
‘Mopsus a Cheat, and what he talks of, Lyes.
‘For once, when I resolv'd to go and see
‘The famous City which adorns the banks
‘Of our great River, and by that's adorn'd,
‘I told him my intentions, as a friend,
‘And thus the envious Hypocrite reply'd,
‘You know not, Thyrsis, what you have resolv'd,
‘Nor the vast danger you're about to run;
‘For Treason reigns within her Marble walls,
‘Where nothing kind or honest's to be found,
‘And ev'n the name of friendship is unknown:
‘Her Citizens grow wealthy by deceit,
‘By treachery her Courtiers grow renown'd;
‘On Downy Beds, and under Gilded Roofs,
‘Both seem to sleep, yet both are kept awake,
‘By plotting death and ruin for the weak.
‘A thousand horrid Fiends, in various shapes,
‘Stalk thro her streets, all ready to destroy
‘Such innocent and easie fools as you.
‘There you will hear 'em laugh at your rude mien,
‘Despise a Shepherds life, and mock our Songs.
‘But above all, her shining Palace fly,
‘Let nothing tempt you to approach her Gates.

Amin.
‘And what could he suggest, to have you shun
‘So rich a sight, which I should long to see?

Thyr.
‘He told me, all things were Enchanted there;
‘That the pretended Diamonds were but Glass,
‘And all their Golden Vessels real Brass:
‘That empty bags her massy Coffers fill'd:
‘And her high Walls were rais'd up with such art,
‘That they can hear and answer what is said:
‘As Eccho answers in these Woods to us,
‘This difference only, that they sometimes speak
‘What they ne'r heard, which Eccho never does.
‘That every thing you meet there has a Tongue,
‘Thus prepossest by him, I went to Court,
‘But soon was undeceiv'd by Glorious Quires
‘Of Heavenly Virgins, who like Syrens sung;
‘Their voices sweeter, but not half so false.
‘Charm'd with their notes, a while I stood amaz'd,
‘Till a great Prince, magnificently drest,
‘His air majestick, and his mien sublime;
‘A Prince, Amintas, destin'd by the Gods
‘To vanquish Tyrants, and secure us Peace,
‘Invited me, as rude as I appear'd,
‘To see the Glories which adorn'd his Court.
‘I enter'd then, but never can relate
‘The Miracles I saw: a thousand Suns
‘Shot forth bright Rays, and lookt as they were warm:
‘I saw young Goddesses in all her Rooms:
‘But met with one so eminently fair,
‘Her mien so graceful, and her looks so sweet,
‘That 'tis not strange if I could be deceiv'd,
‘And fancy'd that she was the Queen of Heaven.
‘I saw the Muses painted with their God,
‘Our Sage Elpinus sitting pensive by:
‘And from that minute felt a noble fire
‘Rage in my breast, and I resolv'd to sing
‘Of War, and scorn the dying notes of Love:
‘Tho since, to please another, I'm oblig'd
‘To quit the City, and return to you:
‘Yet my Pipe still preserves her Courtly note,
‘Like the loud Trumpet in our Forests sounds;
‘Mopsus has listen'd, and admires with shame,
‘To hear such Musick eccho from our Woods;
‘Asham'd to find that I have prov'd him false,
‘And seen so much, and learnt to sing so well.
‘Will ye believe still?

Amin.
‘I'm glad to hear
‘We have such reason to mistrust his words
‘On your success my happiness depends.

Thyr.
‘Depend on my success and have a care,
‘The nearest way to ruin's to despair.

CHORUS.