University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Daphne, Sylvia, Chorus.
Daph.
Thanks to the Gods, that all our tears
Were needless, all our plaints and fears
In vain, since she for whom we mourn'd
Is living, and in health return'd:
Long mayst thou live, and Heaven protect
The Life, which you too much neglect.
Nerina in confusion said
Such things as made us think you dead:
I wish, to've sav'd us so much grief,
She had been dumb, or others deaf.

Sylvia.
The risque was great, and had you seen
The mighty danger I was in,
You would your self have said so too.

Daph.
Not if I had n't known it true.
Tell me the risque you ran, and how
You scap't the danger.

Sylvia.
You shall know.
Too day I at the Chase pursu'd
A Wolf so far into the Wood
I lost my Game, I lost the track,
And turn'd on purpose to come back,
When with seven other Wolves I found
The Beast, and knew him by his wound:
Round some dead Animal they stood,
And tore its flesh, and lickt its blood:
The Wolf I shot soon spy'd me out,
And left his prey to meet his foe.
I with my Dart oppos'd his way,
Tho, mistress of my art, you know
I very seldom miss my blow,
Yet by bad luck I mist it now,
And my Dart rested in a Bough:
The Wolf at this more furious grew,
And got so near me, that I knew
My Bow would stand in little stead;
So to preserve my self I fled.
And as I fled I was methought
By somethng which oppos'd me, caught.
The Veil I wore hitcht in a Tree,
And with my hair entangled me.
I pull'd my Veil, I tore my hair,
And yet was forc'd to leave it there.
Wing'd by my fright away I flew
Like air, and so got safe to you.
Why, Daphne, are you now so sad:
What, can't my safety make you glad?

Dap.
You live, I'm glad to find it true,
And wish another was as safe as you.

Sylv.
Perhaps you hate me, you appear
No more concern'd to see me here.

Daph.
I hate you not, I joy in your return,
But for anothers death must mourn.

Sylv.
Whose?

Daph.
Poor Amintas.

Sylvia.
Tell me how
He dy'd.

Daph.
Ah! that I want to know;
We are not certain yet he's dead,
But we believe't.

Sylvia.
What hast thou said!
Ah, Daphne, say to what alas,
Do people attribute the cause?

Daph.
Thy death.

Sylvia.
Explain your self.

Daph.
The news
He heard will certainly produce
Some dreadful deed, Despair will lend
Him arms, to help him to his end.

Sylvia.
It may be your suspicions are in vain,
And, he as well as I, may rise again
From Death; besides 'tis very rare
For men to let their troubles go so far.

Daph.
Sylvia, little dost thou know
What some men in Love will do:
Thou dost little think how much
Every accident will touch
Hearts of Flesh, and not of Stone,
Not so cruel as thy own.
Hadst thou known the man that dyes
Lov'd thee better than his Eyes,
Thou wouldst have been less severe,
And prevented his despair.
Had you seen him but to day,
After you were ran away.
Sylvia, you'd with reason fear,
Your disdain has gone too far.
‘Such ingratitude you show'd,
‘To the man to whom you ow'd,
‘Life and Honour, all that's dear,
‘I can tell for I was there.
‘I can witness what was done,
‘Saw him save you, and you run,
‘VVhen sure, after that had past
‘He deserv'd to be embrac'd.
Then I saw him take his Dart,
Turn the point against his heart,
Strike his breast, and from the wound
Saw the blood flow on the ground.
I came in, and much ado
Hinder'd him a second blow.
Sylvia, thus you see how far
Some are hurry'd by despair.
So much may by this be guest,
We have cause to dread the rest.

Sylvia.
What have I heard?

Daph.
Things indeed,
Enough, alas, to make thee dread
What thou art yet to hear.
Thence as we were coming back
We met the Nymph, who by mistake
Inform'd us you were slain; the youth,
Without examining the truth,
Believ'd, despair'd, and in the heat
Of grief, sell breathless at our feet.
We took him up, he breath'd again,
We strove to comfort him in vain;
For all the reasons we could give,
Could not prevail on him to live:
But rushing forth, away he fled
To death, and I believe is dead.

Syl.
D'ye really believe it?

Daph.
Yes.

Syl.
Ah! why
Did you not follow him, and fly
Fast as his fury, to prevent
The consequence of his intent.
Ah let us seek him out, and strive
To make him yet consent to live.
Since he that for my Death would dye,
Should for my Life revive.

Daph.
We follow'd, but he flew like wind:
He left us panting far behind;
And long e're this has done what he design'd.
Whither then, Sylvia, would you run?
And who shall tell us where the wretch is gone?

Syl.
Ah, let us go where grief and pity lead;
Haste, Daphne haste, or he'll be dead;
By himself murder'd.

Daph.
You would save
The unhappy Lover from the Grave,
To murder him your self: To you
You think the Glory's only due.
But you've no reason to repine,
For let the blow be his or thine,
Twill be his death, and thou mayst see;
With comfort, that he dy'd for thee.

Syl.
Daph. It torments my mind
When I consider how unkind,
How cruel I have been:
Pride I call'd Honour once, perhaps
'Twas Honour, but 'twas too severe;
And such as will, if he is dead,
Sharpen my grief, my cruelty reprove,
And force me to repent I wrong'd his Love.

Daph.
Oh Heaven! She's pitiful, repents,
Her heart grows tender, she relents;
She weeps—
Is thy pride humbled then? O strange!
Whence, Sylvia, comes this mighty change?
Whence all these tears, from Pity or from Love?

Syl.
Pity, not Love, attracts my tears

Daph.
Pity's Love's Messenger, and shews,
As Lightning before Thunder goes,
Love is not far.

Chorus.
When he'd surprize a Maid
Who of his Empire is afraid,
Who by false honour would defend her heart,
And be secure against his Dart,
He takes his Servant Pity's shape,
And in that figure few escape
His snares, he slily wins on every heart,
And beaten off by force, prevails by art.

Daph.
Love at first in storms appears,
Waited on by sighs and tears:
Love has touch'd thee, tho too late,
Into fondness turn'd thy hate.
Ah Amintas, Sylvia's chang'd,
Weeps for Love, and thou'rt reveng'd.
Now thou mayst the Conquest boast,
Which if living thou hadst lost.
Thou hast Dying left behind
Such a sting in Sylvia's mind,
As will work more mischief there,
Than thou ever feltst for her.
Bees thus can't their Stings outlive,
But perish with the wounds they give.
If thou'rt, as I believe, a Spirit, fled
From the bright mansions of the dead;
From heavenly Groves, and sacred streams,
To play unseen about her Limbs,
See, Sylvia weeps, behold how much she's mov'd,
You lov'd alive, and are when dead belov'd.
‘If Destiny had so decreed,
‘That thou shouldst for thy Mistress bleed;
‘If in her thoughts she had resolv'd that this,
‘Whene're she sold her Love, should be the price,
‘'Tis thine, now thou hast done thy part,
‘And with thy Life hast bought her heart.

Chor.
‘Too vainly sold, and bought too dear;
‘For him too hard, too infamous for her.

Syl.
Oh that my Love could fetch again his breath,
Or my heart purchase him of Death.
Oh that my Life could be the price,
I'd gladly part with it for his.

Daph.
Too late you're pitiful and wise,
Your tears are useless, and in vain your sighs.

SCENE II.

Ergastus, Chorus, Sylvia, Daphne.
Ergastus.
Pity and horror have so far
Possest my Soul, I know not what
I hear or see, but every thing
I meet, amazes and afflicts me.

Chor.
What tydings hast thou brought, which make
Thy looks thus troubled, and thy words
Confus'd.

Ergast.
I bring the bitter news
Of poor Amintas death.

Syl.
What is't he says?

Ergast.
The noblest Shepherd of these Woods,
The kind, the gay, the gentle Swain,
Our Virgins and the Muses darling,
Young as he was, is dead; but how;
Oh! who can tell, or hear it told?

Chor.
Tell all, that we may mourn with thee
His sad misfortunes and our own.

Syl.
Oh! how can I stay to hear
This most horrid story out?
Where is all my fierceness now?
Oh! my heart, so haughty once,
Shew thy Pride, and if thou canst
Stay and hear it all unmov'd:
Speak then what thou hast to say.
Shepherd, let me know the worst,
Tell it me, I'm most concern'd;
Speak, I'm ready for thy news.

Ergast.
Nymph, I know thou art concern'd,
Dying, the Despairing wretch
Call'd on thee, and with thy name
Finish'd his unhappy Life.

Daph.
Prithee begin the dismal tale.

Ergast.
Sitting on yonder Hill, where I
Had laid some Nets, I saw but now
Amintas run that way; his looks
Distracted, and his carriage wild;
His eyes, his mein so chang'd, I thought
That something strange might happen since
I left the Vale: he spy'd and shunn'd me,
Fearing the worst; I then pursu'd,
O'retook and stopp'd him; he grew calm,
Begg'd me to go and see him do
A thing which he pretended then
He was oblig'd to do, but first
Forc'd me to swear I would not stir,
Beyond the bounds he set, nor lift
My hands to hinder him. I swore
By Pan, by Pallas, by Pomona,
And all our Sylvan Deities,
(Alas! not thinking what he meant.)
I would not stir nor lift my hands,
Unless he gave me leave. This done,
He led me to a Precipice,
Where, from the margent of the H
Directly down the pathless dale,
Between high Rocks appears, my head
Grew giddy, I stepp'd back, afraid
To view the depth: Amintas smil'd
And look'd serenely, which deceiv'd
My fears, and made me more assur'd.
Thus then he said—
Ergastus, tell
The Nymphs and Swains what thou shalt see,
Since, since he cry'd, and then look'd down,
The Gods will not permit my end
To be the same with Sylvia's since
My Limbs must not be torn like hers,
And I'm deny'd the Paws and Teeth
Of Wolves to use, as they serv'd
Her lovely Body: I must take
Whatever death they please to send.
These Rocks direct the way, I wish
I had deserv'd the same with hers.
But this is sure and short. Oh see!
I follow thee, my Sylvia, don't
Disdain my Company in death.
I'd dye contented, were I sure
'Twould not displease thee, I should then,
Oh Sylvia, follow thee with joy.
I come, I follow thee, I come:
And saying this,
He threw him headlong down,
While my heart chill'd to see him fall.

Daph.
Oh miserable youth!

Sylv.
Oh Heavens!

Chorus.
But why
Ergastus did you not prevent him?
Was it your Oath that ty'd your hands,
And kept you back?

Ergast.
No, I despise
Such Oaths, and look on them as vain,
When I perceiv'd his folly went
So far, and his deliberate despair
Ready to fling him from the Precipice,
I ran to save him, and as fate
Would have it, came in time enough
To catch him by the Girdle, which
The burthen of the Body broke,
And lest it rent thus in my hands.

Cho.
Where went the miserable Body then?

Ergast.
I know not what became of that.
Horror and Pity struck my soul
So deeply, I had not the heart
To see it dash in pieces.

Cho.
Oh strange! Oh woful accident!

Sylv.
Sure my heart is made of stone,
Or it must have bled to death,
E're the dismal tale was done.
Oh! if he could dye for me,
One who hated him so much,
When he falsely thought me dead,
What shall I do now, I know
He is certainly no more?
I must dye, and dye I will:
Swords and Rocks are left for me:
This precious Girdle is preserv'd
To revenge its gentle Lord.
Unhappy Girdle! Dear Remains
Of thy more unhappy Lord!
Be not angry that thou'rt kept
From thy Master; 'tis to be
The Instrument of Vengeance
On the Maid for whom he dy'd.
I should, I own I should have been
Amintas kind Companion here;
But since I can't be so, I will,
By thy assistance quickly follow him,
And bear him company in Death.

Chor.
Comfort thy self, poor Virgin, 'tis
The hand of Fate, and not thy fault.

Sylv.
Why weepst thou Swain? if 'tis for me,
Weep not, for I deserve no tears,
No pity; I who never knew
What pity was: If 'tis for him,
For poor Amintas, thou mayst weep
A Sea of Tears, and yet want more.
Daphne, if thou dost mourn for me,
For Heavens sake, prithee mourn no more;
I beg, not out of pity to my self,
But out of pity to the man
Who merited thy Love, that thou
Wouldst help me gather up his Bones,
And lay 'em in a Grave; 'tis this
Which only shall prolong my Life:
This friendly office, all that I
Can pay him for his heart, shall be my care.
The Piety of such a deed
By my vile hands will be defil'd:
Yet I believe whate're these hands
Shall do for him will please his Ghost,
Since, spite of all his wrongs, I'm sure
He lov'd me to the last.

Daph.
I'll go
And help you, but you must not think
Of dying after we've perform'd
Our duty to our friend.

Sylv.
Hitherto I've only liv'd
For my self, the little time
That's now left me, I'll devote
To Amintas, if I can't
Live for him, I'll live at least
For his pale unhappy Body.
I must put off death a while,
Till I've seen it, and then end
With his Funeral my Life.
Shepherd, lead us to the Vale,
To the fatal Precipice.

Ergast.
Keep this path, you cannot miss the way.

Daph.
Come, I'll conduct ye, follow me;
I know the place, 'tis not far off.

Sylv.
Farewel Shepherds, farewel Plains,
Woods and Streams, and all farewel.

Ergast.
She heartily repents her scorn,
And talks as if she never would return.

CHORUS.