University of Virginia Library

Laura alone.
Lau.
O love! with what fantastick Sway
Thou mak'st poor Mortal Hearts obey!
I love, and am belov'd again,
Yet treat my Lover with Disdain.
Whene'er he's nigh me,
I undo him;
Yet, shou'd he fly me,
Shou'd pursue him.
See where the sullen Swain,
Reluctant, drags his Chain:
Thy former Peace despair to have.
Now help me, female Art,
To charm and vex his Heart,
And make the Rebel more my Slave.
Myrtillo comes forward.
Thus seeming careless to repose,
[She lies down.
Uncover'd Beauties shall allure him;
And, when he's faster in the Nooze,
I'll wake surpriz'd,—and not endure him.

A Symphony, with a Flute.
Myr.
Help me, Love! I sigh, I die,
Die, alas! for one I scorn:
Vain and fickle tho' I prove her;
Tho' pursuing
Is my Ruin,
'Tis my Fate to love her:
Reason no Relief can raise me,
Love betrays me,
She was for my Torment born.

Lau.
Myrtillo—

Myr.
—Ha! she calls! she dreams.

Lau.
O be but thus! thus ever kind.

Myr.
O! Gods! she is not what she seems.
Her Heart, her Heart's to Love inclin'd:
Sleep on, soft, charming Fair, for I
Yet never knew such waking Joy.

Lau.
What is't, Myrtillo, turns thy Brain?

[Seeming surpriz'd.
Myr.
Ah, Laura, I have chang'd my Strain,
Nor will I more in Sighs complain.
What I have seen and heard just now,
Has taught me thus in Smiles to woo.

[Offering to embrace her.
Lau.
And me with Smiles to hear thee too.

[Turns away in Scorn.
Myr.
Laura, your Heart's of softer make,
In sleep you're Kind, tho' Coy awake.

Lau.
Know then, deluded Wretch, that I
Did but pretend in sleep to lie,
And heard you say,—
For one I scorn, I die.

Myr.
You must not mind a hopeless Lover;
In Rage we often Love discover.

Lau.
Ah! no; the Proof of Love,
Is finding Joy in Pain:
A tender Inclination
Will love, and love in vain.

Myr.
Nothing more wou'd make tender,
Than a Hope that you'll surrender.

Lau.
Nothing sooner wou'd enrage me,
Than your hoping to engage me.

Myr.
The Lover that can part with hope,
With ease may give the Fair-one up.

Lau.
To ease you then of all your Pain,
Despair, nor see my Face again.

Myr.
What have I done to merit this?

Lau.
What have you done to merit less?

Myr.
Oh, injur'd Love! my Heart relieve,
And tell this Tygress, she's unfit to live.

Lau.
No, Cupid; let him still complain,
'Till he confess the Pleasure of the Pain.

Myr.
Let me the Torment feel
Of rolling Stone, or restless Wheel:
Let me the worst of Tortures prove;
But ease, O ease my Heart of Love.
More raging Pains were never born,
Than unrelenting Woman's Scorn.

Lau.
O poor unhappy Swain!—

[Ironically.
Myr.
What can the Syren mean?

Lau.
O happy Myrtillo,
No more say I slight you;
You truly delight me
While you are in Pain:
Your Pain is my Pleasure,
You please above measure;
The greater my Pleasure,
The more you complain.

Myr.
Curse on thy false, insidious Air!
Is't not enough I feel despair?
Why wilt thou still my Heart ensnare?

Lau.
Come! come, be chearful, bear thy Fate.

Myr.
No more those Eyes I'll trust, false fair Ingrate,
For ever from thy fatal Charms I'll fly,
And the slow Cure, or Death of Absence try:
Hence will I hasten to some dismal Cave,
Dark! doleful! joyless as the Grave!
Where the sad Screech-Owl's Notes are only heard,
Whence Light and Comfort are for ever barr'd!
There, pining, waste my Days, from Insults free,
And die forgotten of the World and Thee!

Lau.
Oh, stay, Myrtillo, and I'll tell thee all.

Myr.
Yet I forgive thee, cruel as thou art,
Thou hast undone the tend'rest, constant Heart.
Farewell for ever—

Lau.
—Stay!

Myr.
—We must—

Lau.
—We must not part.

Myr.
O Love! to thee for Help I fly,
Support my staggering Mind:
Less Danger's in her Cruelty,
Than in her seeming kind.

Lau.
—O Myrtillo!

Myr.
—Laura, Forbear!

Lau.
Still art thou deaf?
—I must not hear.

[In two Parts.]
Lau.
Oh, my Anguish!

Myr.
How I languish!

Lau.
'Tis more than I can bear!

Myr.
Undone by Hope; secure by Fear.

[Rural Musick at a Distance]
Myr.
What rural Sounds are those so near?

Lau.
The Nymphs and jolly Swains prepare
To celebrate with Sports the Spring:
Wilt thou not join them while they sing?

Myr.
Their Sports to me no Comfort bring.

Enter Lycon, Mopsa, and Chorus of Shepherds.
Lyc.
Now all ye Swains and Lasses,
Put on your Airs and Graces;
For this the Time and Place is
To Pipe, and Dance, and Play:
All brisk and jolly,
Sporting,
Courting,
Care is a Folly,
Dancing,
Prancing,
Flora commands a Holiday.

Lyc.
See Mopsa, see! Myrtillo's mute!

Mop.
Laura's the Cause—

Lyc.
—Without Dispute:
Speak boldly, Swain; your Grief declare.

Myr.
'Tis true, I have my Grief from her

Lyc.
What tho' the Nymph deny you,
She ne'er intends to fly you,
A thousand Tricks she'll try you,
All but to hold you fast:
She'll pout and vex you,
Coying,
Toying,
Then perplex you,
Slighting,
Frighting;
Follow her close,—she's right at last.

Mop.
From Laura I shall more discover:—
Is this a time to slight your Lover?

Lau.
Myrtillo's nice, but cannot say I'm coy,
And seems more fond of Pain than Joy.

Mop.
What tho' the Swain abjure you,
Protests he'll ne'er endure you:
'Tis all but to allure you,
To ease him of his Pain.
If once you treat him
Kindly,
Friendly,
You defeat him
Fairly,
Rarely;
Ply him but home,—he's right again.

Lau.
Myrtillo—

Lyc.
—shall comply.—

[Seizing Myrtillo's Hand.
Myr.
—Laura.—

Mop.
—No longer shall deny.

[Mop. and Lyc. join Lau. and Myr. Hands.
[In two Parts.
Myr.
Kind and tender,

Lau.
I surrender.

Both.
All my Joy's in thee alone.

Lau.
When I deny'd you,
I only try'd you.

Myr.
When I forswore you,
I did adore you.

Both.
Despair and Care's for ever flown.

[Chorus of Voices and Dancers.
Cho.
Now all ye Swains and Lasses, &c.