University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE—A beautiful Prospect of Arcadia; Shepherds Dwellings dispersed at a Distance, and a Wood on one Side.
Enter LYSANDER, EUPHEMIA, and DELIA.
LYSANDER.
Thanks to the Gods! our cheerful Steps at last
Have reach'd these happy Climes; where refug'd Virtue,
'Midst laughing Vales, o'er-arch'd by cloudless Skies,
Enjoys a calm Retreat. And now, lov'd Maid!
Whom I have follow'd, and would follow still
To Earth's remotest Bounds; 'tis Time to claim
That bright Reward, which, before Delia here,
Your lov'd Companion Delia, you have sworn,
Soon as my Voice had welcom'd your Arrival,
Should crown my willing Service.

EUPHEMIA.
Gen'rous Youth!
Whose fond Compliance with a Maid's Request
Has led you far from home; the Boon you ask
Will poorly pay your Virtues; take my Hand,
And know I give it but to pledge a Heart
By ev'ry Title yours.

DELIA.
Unshaken, long
Remain this Union!—Now! Euphemia, now
Behold your Hopes accomplish'd!—Breathe we not
A purer Air? And does not this bright Scene,
Which opens round us, realize the Truth
Of all Aranthe said?

EUPHEMIA.
It does, it does;
Peace to her Shade! And, Delia, we shall bless
The friendly Path we trod; though scarcely yet
Lysander knows why I so long forbore
To crown his Love, and in this distant Clime
Would only wed.

LYSANDER.
It was enough for me
To know your Wish; contented to be blest
On your own Terms. But oft I've heard you say,
Your dying Mother, poor Aranthe! left
These Counsels in your ear, with that sad Sigh
Which never more is heard.

EUPHEMIA.
Her Care alone
Rear'd me to what I am; yet I ne'er knew
A Parent's Fondness. She was of Arcadia;
And when the Spartan Arms, with fierce descent,
Sought these defenceless Shades, was forc'd away
With other Captives. Then, all pale with Tears,
Lest Violence should seize what Choice deny'd,
She gave the Plund'rer, what he ask'd, her Hand,
And yielded to his Wish.—Vows thus constrain'd
Ne'er draw down Blessings. Fifteen tedious Years
She felt a lordly Husband's rigid Sway;
Till Fate dissolv'd her Bondage, and restor'd
Her Liberty.

LYSANDER.
Euphemia, you relate
What moves my Wonder; for till now, I deem'd
You were Aranthe's Child.

EUPHEMIA.
I thought so too:
But mark the Sequel.—Freedom came too late:
Worn by Dissimulation's irksome Task
For Years repeated, slow-consuming Care
Subdu'd at last her Frame. Arcadia's Vales
She now no more could visit; that fond Hope
Through long Captivity sustain'd the Soul,
Which sunk to find it lost.

LYSANDER.
Not long the Mourner
Surviv'd her Husband?

EUPHEMIA.
Scarcely half the Space
Of ten sad Moons. The Lamp of Life each Day
Burnt fainter; and a sudden Stroke its Light
Almost extinguishing, she call'd me to her,
And bade me bring the Friend whom most I lov'd,
My Delia, with me. To our Ears she then,
By interrupted Words with Pain brought forth,
Unlock'd her Heart;—Told me, a Mother's Name
Was but assum'd, that He whom she espous'd
Might treat me gently;—That my infant Years
Were to her Care confided;—That her All
She had bequeath'd me;—And her dying Wish
Was, that when Time should favor the Intent,
I'd seek Arcadia.—“If, my Child!” she cry'd,
“Thy Lot be Happiness, 'twill meet thee there;
“Be Hope thy Guide: The righteous Gods, perhaps,
“May there restore”—But what—was all conceal'd;
For Death that instant seiz'd her Pow'rs of Speech,
And left me lost in Darkness and Distress.

DELIA.
Nor till her Spirit fled, ceas'd she to fix,
Though Utt'rance was deny'd, on my fair Friend
Looks forcible as Language.—We have search'd,
Where'er Conjecture wings its dubious Flight,
To trace her Meaning, or descry from whence
Euphemia drew her Birth; but ev'ry Path
Perplex'd and tangled, still in Darkness ends.

LYSANDER.
Some Cause forbade, or she had ne'er so long
Conceal'd the Story, which her parting Breath
Could not enough disclose. But say, my Love,
Did not Aranthe oft' at other Times
Discourse the Beauties of her native Land,
The more to tempt you to this Pilgrimage?

EUPHEMIA.
Oh, frequent! frequent! It was oft' her Subject,
And she would tell such Wonders of Arcadia,
So boast its joyous Skies, where Love, where Truth,
And fair Simplicity reign'd undisturb'd,
That all entranc'd I heard her, and my Soul
Dwelt on her Story, till it pin'd to see
These Heav'n-distinguish'd Regions.—To myself,
In secret, then I vow'd, that I would ne'er
But in Arcadia wed.—It was for this
Arcadia was so oft my Theme, when first
You grac'd me with your Notice; 'twas for this
I hither led you; and at some near Shrine
My Vow shall be confirm'd.

LYSANDER.
Blest be the Night,
When forth I led you from detested Sparta,
Ne'er to behold it more! Detested Sparta!
Where the firm Virtue of our rigid Fathers,
Which nerv'd their Arm, and gave th'admiring World
A Line of Heroes, is debas'd by Vice,
Or crush'd by pow'rful Faction.—To forget
The Cloud that shades my Country, be my Task;
Since thence I've borne a Prize, in whom I view
The Graces of the purest Times.

EUPHEMIA.
No more!
Already you o'erpay me.

LYSANDER.
Bounteous Maid!
My Tongue would beggar Language, should it speak
The Transport I now feel to call Thee mine,
And to enfold Thee thus.—Whatever Joys
This Clime shall offer, they can nothing add
To mine, possessing Thee.

DELIA.
Behold! a Troop
Of Swains advancing! Haply, we from them
May gain all due Intelligence.

LYSANDER.
Yet hold!
They seem assembled on some Ceremony;
'Twere best at Distance mark them;—For a while
Let us withdraw beneath these bow'ring Shades.

[They retire into the Wood.
Enter—MUSIDORUS, DAPHNE, LAURA, and a Number of Arcadian Shepherds and Shepherdesses, bearing in their Hands Garlands of Flowers.
They advance, singing.
CHORUS.
Give the Hour to sober Pleasures;
Cheerful Hearts are Life's best Treasures:
Let the choral Song go round;
Echo shall our Joys resound.

MUSIDORUS.
Onward, Arcadians! bear your flow'ry Wreaths,
Twin'd with the fairest Sweets of ev'ry Kind
That scent the Ev'ning Air, and with them deck
The sacred Pines of Pan; while the deep Grove
Tells to the distant Hills our festive Rites.—
'Tis wisely done to make the most of Life:
Whilst Temp'rance sits the Guardian of our Sports,
Each grateful Smile that dimples o'er the Cheek
Is Tribute paid the Gods!

FIRST ARCADIAN.
Let such as tread
The busy Haunts of Men, where Envy shoots
Its poison'd Arrows, wear their Brow o'ercast;
Our Vales are only Witnesses of Joy,
And Mirth well-authoriz'd; Our fertile Soil
A happier Sun-shine warms; and the press'd Grape,
Pouring from Goblets deep its purple Stream,
Drives off imagin'd Ills, and the cheer'd Mind
Attunes to Harmony.

AIR.

LYSANDER, EUPHEMIA, and DELIA, appear from the Wood.
LYSANDER.
Forgive us, Shepherds,
If we as Strangers peradventure press
Somewhat abruptly on you. Wide is spread
The Fame of your fair Clime; and it hath hither
Allur'd our Steps, inquisitive to learn
That true Simplicity which marks your Lives,
And makes them deem'd so happy.

MUSIDORUS.
You are welcome
To these pacific Shades, and doubly so
As being Strangers: But if chance you come
From Scenes of artful Life, where Pomp displays
Its splendid Fallacies, ours scarce will charm.—
Yet here Content resides, and rural Ease;
With ev'ry Blessing which the bounteous Pan
Bestows on virtuous Toils.

LYSANDER.
Deem not that we
So ill have read the World, that our fool'd Sense
Is caught by Pageantry.—Nought charms so much
As the bright Lustre of an upright Mind,
Active, and steady.—And in lonely Vales,
And Roofs unnotic'd, oft' such Virtues dwell
As Courts with Pride might boast; though all unseen
Their Graces bloom, save by a circling few,
And Heav'n's approving Eye.

FIRST ARCADIAN.
Your Reas'ning, Youth,
Bespeaks a Mind well tutor'd; and your Chance
Hath thrown you amongst Men, who know to prize
The Heart that points to Virtue.—Freely share
Whate'er these Plains afford. Say, will you join
Our festive Rites? Or, rather, do you seek
Rest and Refreshment?—Long perchance hath been
Your Way; and these your fair Companions tire.

LYSANDER.
True—long hath been our Way; but we have made it
Pleasure, not Toil.—You shall at Leisure know
Whate'er in the small Circle of our Lives
May win your Ear. Suffice it now to say
What beyond Rest, beyond your proffer'd Care,
Sits nearest at my Heart, is, that you guide
Our Steps, to where before some hallow'd Shrine,
This beauteous Maid and I may swear till Death
A lasting Union.—Long, too long, my Bliss
Hath been delay'd; and tedious seems to creep
Each lazy Minute now, till I can boast
Alliance with her Virtues.

MUSIDORUS.
Such a Place
Stands in the Covert of yon Wood; be mine
The Task to lead you thither.—Leagues of Love,
Approv'd by Virtue, from their starry Thrones
The Gods behold well pleas'd!—Go you before,
My Daughters, and with virgin Hands adorn
The nuptial Altar.—Shepherds, you'll pursue
Your purpos'd Sports: we shall at Eve rejoin.

[Exeunt Daphne and Laura.
LYSANDER.
Here, my Euphemia, our long Voyage ends,
Safe in the wish'd-for Port we ride in Peace,
Anchor'd by Love and Friendship.—Gen'rous Swain!
Your hospitable Kindness asks more Praise
Than my poor Tongue can give; a Time may come
When I may better speak it.

MUSIDORUS.
Nay! no more;
I act but as I ought.—Benevolence
Is due from Man, to Man!—Come, Lady, on;
The Altar now attends your maiden Vows;
Be thrifty of the Hour, the Day wears fast.

[Exeunt Musidorus, Lysander, Euphemia, and Delia.
FIRST ARCADIAN.
Now with light Foot to sportive Measures beat,
Strike ev'ry sprightly Note, that ere we join
In yonder hallow'd Grove, we to the Dance
May add new Graces, and avow our Zeal.

A DANCE of Arcadians.
After the Dance, the Chorus repeated.
Give the Hour to sober Pleasures;
Cheerful Hearts are Life's best Treasures:
Let the choral Song go round;
Echo shall our Joys resound.

[Exeunt.
SCENE—A wild rocky Entrance to a Cave; on one Side of which is seen a Wood.
DORASTUS enters from the Cave. After looking attentively around, he comes slowly forward.
Hail! to the Ev'ning Sun, which from the West
Empurples all the Sky, and this my Cave
Gilds with its parting Rays; this moss-grown Cave,
Long by my Footsteps worn!—For since the Arms
Of the fell Spartans tore my Child away,
(Sole Pledge of a dear Union) with the Friend
To whom her dying Mother gave the Charge
To train her Infancy; and ev'ry Hope
To trace their Fate is vain; I've shun'd the Plain,
Nor mingled with the Gay.—In these lone Shades
I wake my Mind to Truth; and as the Stream
Of Life flows gently on, pursue that Peace
Philosophy inspires, and patient wait
Th'Appointment of the Gods!—But I must hence—
The length'ning Shadows warn me now to seek
In the near Valley such sweet-smelling Flow'rs
As give their Perfumes to the Ev'ning Gale,
And strew them round yon vacant Tomb I've rear'd
To sooth a Father's Sorrows.—There's in Grief
A melancholy Pleasure, which indulg'd,
Becalms the Soul;—and such this Task to me.—
O much-lamented Maid! if from this World
Escap'd, thou sit'st a Spirit in Air, accept
A Parent's pious Off'ring;—Or if still
Thou draw'st the Breath of Bondage, or art doom'd
To tread the flinty Ways of Life, may Heav'n
Give thee proportion'd Virtue!—Yet a while,
A transient Space, Time's friendly Hand shall guide
Each Suff'rer to his Rest, and all our Cares
Shall melt to nothing, like the Morning Dew.

[Exit.