Aminta. The famous Pastoral

Texto utilizado para esta edición digital:
Tasso, Torquato. Aminta: the famous pastoral. Translated by John Dancer. London: printed for John Starkey (...), 1660.

Marcación digital para Artelope:

Soler Sasera, Eva (Artelope)

The Epistle Dedicatory.

The Epistle Dedicatory.
TO My much Honoured,
AND
Truly Noble Friend,
Mr. R. B.

Worthy Sir,

Ancient custom, and the genius of the present times admit a dedication of those works which we esteem either profitable or pleasant to those we love or honour, this though it pretend little to profit, and as little to pleasure without your pleasing aspect, yet is intended as a demonstration of that honour and respect I bear your worth: which your favours to me have condignly merited.
And to whom indeed should I dedicate both my self and labours? but to you, who have seemed to dedicate your self wholly to my welfare? to whom should I present these effects of my leisure? but to you, by and from whom I received so comfortable an otium? To whom should I address, or whole protection should I crave for this work of mine? but his under whose protection I effected it?
Yet pretend I not at all by this the least requital of your unlimited favours, which have encompassed me round like an Ocean, but onely manifest to you, what I am almost confident you already believe; that, were my fortunes answerable to my desires, though your retorted Graces might, and would still keep me out of the haven, yet should I use my utmost strength and endeavours to arrive at the Port of a wish’d for gratitude.
In the mean time, please Sir to accept of this poor pledge of my weak, though willing, endeavours; and in thanks for your acceptance, this I really allure you, That though your protection should not render it more acceptable to others, yet will it more and more oblige me, and like a Cypher added to a figure, double, if not treble, the score of your favours.
For the work it self, let me make this Apologie, That tou know it to be the first that ever I undertook: so, for those faults which you may very probably find in it, I shal only implore that wonted Candour and Generosity where with you have oft been pleas’d to pass by lesse pardonable errors.
I am sorry your Commands conceale your Name, and must needs herein accuse you of some Injustice, both to my selfe and the World; to my selfe, in not giving my Pen the Honour of Proclaime, not only yours, but the Virtues of your Thrice Noble Family; And to the World, in not permitting them to be Honourers and Admirers of so rare a Pattern of Unparallel’d Friendship.
To conclude, That the God of Heaven would plentifully poure down the choisest of his blessings upon you and your Worthy Confort, and enable you to the Continuance of your favours towards me; and me to some way to Merit, or meanes to Requite them. Is the earnest Prayer of
Your Devoted Servant,
John Dancer

Dedicatoria del traductor

To the reader

To The READER:

Courteous Reader,

I here present to thy view, a Work of that Excellent Italian Poet’s, Torquato Tasso, Whose sweet and Mellifluous straines, made him not only esteem’d the Apollo of his Nation, but thought worthy that Honour by Frreign Wits. This is Aminta; a Piece Valued by themost Refined Judgements above all his other Poems: and so much Valued, That the admired Baptista Guarini confesses himselfe its Imitator, in his Famous, and so much Adored Pastor Fido. If it have suffered by my Translation, I am sorry. I must confesse I envyed, but cannot fancy yo have reach’d the Happinesse of Fanshaw’s Stile. ʼTis the first Work ever I undertook, so, though there may be errors, condemn me not for the first fault, the next may be better; hower accept this, as it is, but Friendly, and I have enough.
J. D.

Prólogo del traductor.

Interlocutors

CUPID, in Pastoral Habit

DAPHNE, Companion of Silvia

SILVIA, Loved of Aminta

AMINTA, in love with Silvia

ERGASTO, Messenger

THIRSIS, Companion of Aminta

SATYRE, in love with Silvia

NERINA, Messengeresse

ELPINO, a Shepherd

Chore of Shepherds

Act I

PROLOGUE

CUPID IN PASTORAL HABIT

How could it enter into mortall breast:

That under humane shape, and past’ral vest,

Lay hid a god nay more, no god o’th woods,

Or one of the inferiour rank of gods,

A god Celestial: who doth instly claim,

Among the greatest the most powerful name:

Who often makes victorious Mars to lay

His conquering sword, and bloody spear away.

Great Neptune who so fils the world with wonder,

Teilds him his trident; Jove himself his thunder.

Sure with this aspect, in this habit clad,

Venus can ne’re discern her smooth-fac’d lad,

Or know him thus transform’d. I’m forc’d to fly,

And hide my self from her, because that I

Scorn for to be her subject, or my darts

Should be her slaves: and only wound those hearts

There’re levell’d at by her, and what’s that vain,

Ambitious woman dare my shafts refrain?

At Kings and Princes Courts she only will

That ’mongst great Ladies I employ my skill,

And to my lower Ministers conceads

To practice theirs amongst the woods and Meads,

In runstick breasts. I though you may me deem

A boy, am none, and will, as best shall seem

To me, dispose my shafts, since mine of old

Are both th'omnipotent torch, and bow of gold:

Wherefore (to hide my self and to fly from

Her force, not, but her prayrs strong when they come

From an importunate mother) in these plains,

I refuge seek amongst the rurall swains,

And my self shelter in these woods, but she

Ceases nor day nor night to follow me,

Promising those would tell her where I were

Or kisses sweet, or what’s than them more dear:

As if that she my giving too could bar

Of kisses sweet, or what’s more pleasant far,

To those that hide me from her, this at least;

I know my kisses would be counted best:

(If I that love am of love understand)

So that sheoft seeks for me vainly, and

Looses her pains: Since none so foolish are,

As to disclose or tell her where I were.

But least by counter-signs she should me know

wings, my dart, my quiver, and my bow

I have laid by, yet come not I disarm’d,

Or weaponlesse, for see how I have charm’d

My torch into this rod; which has the same

Force it had first, and burns though with a flame

Invisible, this likewise is my old

Dart that I us’d, which though its head of gold

Be chang’d, yet this of divine temper’d steel

Who er’e it pierces makes loves flames to feel.

This day I’l make the triall; and my dart

Shall shew its divine power o’re the heart-

Lesse bosome of the cruel’st nymph before

This time that ever followed Dians Chore,

And chastest Silvia’s plague shall be the same,

(For that’s of this hard-hearted Nymph the name,)

As that of fam’d Aminta, who did feel

Long since, the pow’r of my Divinest steel;

When he and she both tender us’d to sport,

In the chast pleasures of bright Cynthia’s Court .

But canse the wound shall be more inward, I

Will stay untill some pitie mollifie

That so hard frost which round about her heart

Her virgin-pride hath fix’d, then I’l my dart

Let fly with it’s full force; and cause I’l please

My self in doing it, and do’t with ease,

I’l mix my self among the shepheards crev

Which passed by just now, who alwaies do

On holydayes make sport within this plain,

And to be one of them my self I’l fain;

Them with the best occasion give the blow,

So flyly, as no mortall eye shal’t know.

In a strange manner shall these woods, to day,

Be heard of love to reason, that it may,

Clearly (my sacred Deity is here)

(And not my under Ministers) appear.

These rustick Silvane brests I will endue

With divine sences, teach them how to wooe

In lofty language, that it may be known

That love where e’re he is, it alwaies one,

Whether he pleases for to make his nest

Or in a Swains, or in a Hero’s breast.

Then if my beauteous mother, who ha’s tride

Her utmost art to know where I abide

By these feats know not, she’s more blind then I

For blind by wrong, men call me Deity.

Scen. I.

Daphne and Silvia

DAPHNE

Art thou resolv’d then Silvia to consume

Thy fairest youth? can’t thy heart find a room

For Venus pleasures? wilt not know those joy’s

A Mother takes to sport with her sweet boyes?

Shall so much beauty be to woods confin’d?

Change, fondling that thou art, change, change thy mind.

SILVIA

Let others follow loves delights for me,

If that in love any delight there be.

This life me pleases best; Nor do I know

Ought I take pleasure in, but in my bow;

This is my chiefest comfort, for to follow

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The wild beasts in the chase, hear huntsmen hollow:

Nor do I fear such sports will wanting be.

DAPHNE

More sottish Sports, more sottish life, dost see?

This life thee pleases cause thou hast not prov’d

As yet another, cause thou hast not lov’d.

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“So in the infant world, and when as yet,

“The simple people knew no better meat,

“Acorns and water, were accounted sweet:

“But when th’earth did abound with corn and wine,

“Acorns and water then were food for swine.

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So shouldst thou taste but one poor thousand part

Of the sweet joys of love, thou’dst say, dear heart,

Why didst thou fix my pleasure on such toyes

And leave me widow to more reall joyes?

Thou’lt sorrowfull repent the lost time past

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And curse it now for running on so fast.

Howmany a widow night, how many a day

I’ve ignorantly spent! thou’lt sighing say.

Change then, fond fool, change change thy mind I pray,

Lest when’ts too late thou do repent in vain.

SILVIA

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Daphne, when I repent or o’re again

Repeat these words of thine, wch thou dost feign

Just as thou list, then let the rivers turn

Back to their fountains; let the Ocean burn,

The wolves fly from the tender lamb, the hares

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Pursue the greyhounds; then let the fierce bears,

Inhabit waters: and let Dolphins range

The fields, whenever I my mind do change.

DAPHNE

This is meer childishness, Sister, as thou

Art, I was once. (Alas!) although that now

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I’me chang’d by age, even just so neat, so fair

My count’nance was, so golden was my hair,

Just such a cherry lip, just such a Rose,

I did in th’middle of my cheek disclose;

‘Twas my delight, then, Silvia, (now I find

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A foolish one it was) to hunt the Hind,

Follow the footsteps of wild beasts, my net

Spread to untrap the birds, take care to whet

My dart; and if I did but chance to spy

Some youthfull Shepheard cast an am’rous eye,

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I looked down with scorn, and with disdain,

Counting what was my grace to be my pain,

And nought was more displeasing unto me

Then see me pleasing unto others be:

But yet at length, time and th’importunate

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Pray’rs of my faithful lover, did abate

That Virgin frost; Sister, I was (and blesse

The hour) o’recome at last, I do confesse,

And in one night’s black shade I did learn more

Then I had done in all my life before.

150

So now I did my former folly know,

I quite renounc’d both Cynthia’s life and bow:

And so I hope thou wilt too, and at last

Aminta’s sighs may melt thy flinty breast.

How canst thou choose but love him? canst deny

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He’s handsom? then pray tell the reason, why?

Thinkst thou he loves thee not? or does love any

Better than thee, though he be lov’d by many?

If so, why do’s he so thy love pursue?

Think’st him not enough noble? if thou do

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Though from his Rivers god the third thou be,

Third from great Pan the shepherds god is he.

Why then despi’st thou him? thinkst thou the lilies

Of the fair cheeks of fairest Amarillis,

Are not as beautiful as thine? yet he

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Thou seest despiseth her, and follows thee;

She follows him and seeks his love, and thou,

Though he seeks thine, refusest his; pray now

Imagine, he, thus croft by thy disdain

(God grant th’imagination be but vain)

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Should leave thee and take her, I fain would know

Whether it would not grieve thee or no?

’Tis better to accept him then, by half,

Then taking her both at thy folly laugh.

SILVIA

Let ’minta and his loves disposed be,

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As best him pleaseth little’t imports me:

Nor who, his love has, so I do it misse,

Care I, mine he can’t be, since I’me not his:

And though he mine were, his I would not be.

DAPHNE

From whence proceeds this hatred now from thee?

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If I were thee I’d strive to love him rather.

SILVIA

It’s from his love,

DAPHNE

Strange child of such a Father,

When was fierce tyger born of gentle lamb?

Or when from Swan’s egge a black crow e’re came?

Sister thou cheatest or thy self or me.

SILVIA

185

I hate his love, cause he my honesty:

And I should love him while he would not crave

Ought else of me but what my self would have,

DAPHNE

Thou onely wil’st thy heart, he only would

With that to thee which with himself he should:

SILVIA

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Daphne, or talk of somewhat else, or hold

Thy peace I pray.

DAPHNE

O gods! do but behold

This perverse wench! but prethee Sister do,

But answer this, If that another sue

Should for thy love, would’st thus requite his pain?

SILVIA

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Who would entrap my chastity, the same

Requite should find from me, what e’re he be,

Whom thou stil’st lover, I am enemy.

DAPHNE

The Ram unto the ewe dost thou esteem

Or to the tender heifer the bull deem,

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En’mies to be, or doth the Turtle dove

Reject her mate, because he doth her love:

Seest thou the fragrant season of the year,

How every thing doth sweet and green appear?

This pleasant verdure covering o’re the plains,

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Invites, alas, not only nymphs and Swains,

But very beasts to love, and dost not see,

How all things in the world inamoured be?

See how those two doves whisper, with what willing,

And joynt consent as ʼtwere they two are billing!

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You Nightingale which hops from grove to grove

Still as she hops, she sings, I love, I love;

The cruell Adder who doth stop his ears,

And having stung, will not be charm’e by tears,

Or cries, is charm’d by sweetest love: ‘ith woods

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The tigers love, the fishes in the floods

Love too, but thou more cruel then a beast

Denyest sweet love an entrance in thy breast;

But what talk I of beasts; seest thou each tree

In this vast forrest? they inamoured be.

220

Behold with what a sweet embrace the vine

Does her dear confort lovingly intwine,

The firr doth love the firr, the pine the pine;

You stubborn oak, which scarce’the wind can move,

Is mov’d by th’power of divinest love,

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Hadst thou a spir’t of love, or if of stone,

Were not thy heart, thou’dst hear it sigh and groan,

And utter forth it’s am’rous plaints: yet thou

For all this art not mov’d to love, why now

Wilt thou than plants or beasts be more unkind?

230

Change, fondling that thou art, change, change thy mind.

SILVIA

When I of plants the am’rous sighs shal hear

I’l likewise be in love, til then forbear.

DAPHNE

Well though thou now laugh at, and dost disdain

My faithful counsels; know that to thy pain

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Thou wilt repent, thou dost not while thou may

Them follow; for be sure there comes a day,

When what’s to thee a pleasure and delight,

Shall be thy greatest grief, thy greatest spight;

And as thou now disdainest others, so,

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Thou’lt then despise thy very self; and know

Those so clear springs in which thou oft dost use

Thy most resplendent beauty to peruse,

Thou’lt leave forsaken and neglected now,

Or stand amazed at thy wrinkled brow.

245

But why speak I of this? Since ʼtis a sure

And common evil we must all endure.

I’ll tell thee more, and mark me what I say,

ʼTis what the sage Elpino t’other day

Recounted unto Licoris the fair

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The gentile Licoris: whose beauty rare,

Has such pow’r o’re Elpino, as his art

In singing ought t’have o’re her pliant heart;

If there be any debt in love. He told

It before am’rous Thir’s and Battus old,

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Just at the entrance of Aurora’s cave,

Where writ in golden Characters you have;

All you that the profane depart from hence,

And said that it was told to him long since

By the grand Poet, who so high did sing

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The life of many a Heroe, many a King,

Who dying did leave him his pipe, There is

Sayes he, at bottom o’th profound abysse,

A horrid cave, vomiting smoak with fire,

And a most constant stink out of the dire

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Fornace of Acheronta, where do lie,

In torments dark, and that eternally

Those women; who perswaded here above,

Neither by pray’rs, nor tears, could be to love:

And ʼtis a just, and well deserved law,

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Smoak should force tears, which pity could not draw:

Then if thou thusthy cruelty continue,

Look to be confort with that curst retinue.

SILVIA

But what said Licoris to this, and how

Answer’d she him;

DAPHNE

Why fee! thou fain wouldst know

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Others affairs, but car’st not for thine own:

She answered with her eyes.

SILVIA

With eys alone

How could she answer him?

DAPHNE

Those very ey’s

Were, as ʼtwere, messengers, or rather spies;

Which mix’d with pleasant smiles to him made known,

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Licoris and her heart were now his own:

Except he did believe, faith was as rare

In them as beauty; she as false as fair.

SILVIA

Why should he so believe?

DAPHNE

knowst thou what Thir’s,

That famous Master both of Love and Verse,

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Did write, when burning with the flames of love

He wandring through the forrest, did both move

The nymphs & swains to laughter? but though he

Did things worth laughter, yet his writings be

Not to be jeer’d; this in a tree he writ,

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With th’tree it grew, and there I oft read it:

The looking-glasses of false hearts your eyes

Are; and in them all deceit hidden lies,

But what avails’t since shun them love denies:

SILVIA

I here in pratling cast my time away,

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And had forgot this is th’appointed day,

In which we ought to go, as we were wont,

In Eliceto for to raise the Hunt.

Prethee do thou stay for me while i’th nigh

Fountain I cleanse the sweat, and dust which I,

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Got yesterday by hunting of a Deer,

Which at the last I kil’d;

DAPHNE

I’l stay thee here

Perhaps I’l bath me too, but first my gate,

I’l homewards bend for it’s not yet so late

As’t seems, and thou at home for me mayst stay:

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But in the mean time think of that, I pray,

Concerns thee more then hunting, and say I

Bid thee take a fools counsel, so god bu’y.

Scen. 2.

Aminta and Thirsis

AMINTA

I have with my laments, my sighs, my groans

To pity moved, both the rocks and stones;

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But mov’d I have not nor can hope to move

Her I adore, to pity or to love:

Remorselest Nymph, I know not which I best

May stile thee, or a woman; or fierce beast

For thou to be a woman dost deny,

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Since more than best’al is thy cruelty.

THIRSIS

The lambs on tender grasse, wolves on lambs feed

And both do fatishe their hungry need:

But though lovefeed on tears, the more it have

Of tears and sighs, it still the more doth crave;

AMINTA

320

Alas! alas! love long since with the food

Of my tears satiate is, now for my blood

It onely thirst, and therefore to the eyes

Of it and that cru’l nymph I’l mak’t a prize:

THIRSIS

Why talkst thou thus Aminta? if unkind

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And cruel she be, thou’lt another find.

AMINTA

How can I find another, when that I

Can’t find my very self, or pray whereby

Can one lost to himself e’re pleasure gain?

THIRSIS

Do not despair, at length thou mayst obtain

330

This cruel fair; time teaches men to check,

Lions, and bring fierce tygers to their beck:

AMINTA

But whilst that I wait out this long delay,

I shall with grief be quite consum’d away:

THIRSIS

Short the delay will be, for the disdain

335

Of woman’s kindled soon, soon quench’t again:

They’re moveable by nature, nor the wind,

Can breath more changes then a womans mind:

Lighter than feathers, and will readier bow,

Then ripened ears before a storm; but thou,

340

Of thy condition farther let me know,

And the hard fortune of thy love, for though

Thou long since toldst me that thou wast in love,

Yet thou hidst from me, who it was could move

In thee this am’rous fire, although that faith,

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And ever constant friendship ‘twixt us hath

Oblig’d thee to discover that to me,

Which unto others might concealed be.

AMINTA

Thirsis, I am content to tell thee what

The woods and mountains know, but men know not,

350

And ʼtis but just that I being now so nigh,

My death, should leave the reason why I die

To some dear friend, who may when I am gone

Report it, or may grav’t in tree or stone,

Near the place where my bloodlesse corps shall lie,

355

That if that pit’lesse Nymph chance to pass by,

She may stamp on’t with her proud foot, and boast,

That her dire cruelty my life me cost;

And that she may rejoice to see me lie,

There as a trophee of her victory.

360

Perhaps at last she may (but things above

Desert I hope) both pity then and love

Him dead, who living by her hate was slain,

And with salt tears may wish me back again;

But listen now.

THIRSIS

Proceed; I wel thee mind,

365

And am to help thee at thy need inclin’d.

AMINTA

I was as yet a child and scarce could crop

Those fruits the willing trees did seem to drop,

From their full loaden branches near the earth,

When full of jollity and harmless mirth,

370

Not knowing love, or caring it to know,

With th’sweetest nymph I did familiar grow,

That in the wind e’re spread a golden hair,

It was the rich Cidippe’s daughter fair;

Grandchild unto the great Montan, whose flocks

375

And mighty heards fill both the woods and rocks,

Silvia, the glory of the woods, the fire

Of every heart, of all fouls the desire:

With her I kept such faithful company,

That ʼtwixt two Turtles ne’re the like could be;

380

Nothing to me than Silvia was dearer,

Near were our houses, but our hearts were nearer:

Her age was equal almost with my own,

But ʼtwixt our thoughts, there was no diff’rence known;

With her I often us’d to spread the snares,

385

To catch the simple birds, or fearful hares:

With her I us’d to force swift Does to flight,

Equal the prey was, equal the delight;

But whilst we thus made prize of beasts: a prize

My self was made to her’ll-conqu’ring eyes;

390

And like a weed which of it self doth grow,

So grew there in my bosom, from I know

Not yet what root, a strange and unknown fire,

Which made me Silvia’s presence more desire:

Her eyes were food to me, sweet, but I did leave

395

A bitter; did me of all jokes bereave:

And though my sighs, alas, now were not few,

Yet of those many sighs no cause I knew.

Thus was I, e’re that I could it discover,

By her fair ey’s forc’d to become a lover:

400

But how I came to know’t at last, do thou

Take notice pray.

THIRSIS

Proceed and tell me how.

AMINTA

When Phebus bright his hottest beams displai’d,

Silvi’ and Phillis once chanc’t seek a shade

Under a spreading beech, when, lo, a Bee

405

Buzzing about Phillis fair cheeks chanc’d see

The lovely red she did in them disclose,

Did make the Bee mistake them for a Rose,

And think to gather honey from that sweet,

She lights: but with too harsh salute did greet

410

Those rosean cheeks, and Phillis with the pain,

Of the sharp sting most sadly did complain;

When my Dear Silvia told her: Phillis pray

Lament not thus, I soon will take away

Thy pain with an inchantment, which I learn’d

415

Of the sage Aresia, and I earn’d

It well, for in requital of it I

Gave unto her my horn of Ivory,

Which was adorned with gold. Thus having said

Her sweeter lips to Phillis cheek she laid:

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Just where the Bee had stung her, and she there

Muttered some words which well I could hear:

But O most wonderful! Phillis had ease

Immediately, and all her pain did cease.

Whether it was her Magick art or no,

425

That so soon wrought the cure I don’t well know,

But I believe in her sweet mouth was such

Vertue that it did heal all it did touch.

I, that before had to restrain’d the fire

Of love, that nothing else I did desire,

430

But Silvia’s presence, and a paradice

It was to feast my self on her fair ey’s,

Or hear the sweet tunes of her warbling voice,

More pleasing far to me than was the noise,

The little pibbles make in murm’ring floods,

435

Or than the wind when’t signs among the woods

Was now by an ambitious spirit inclin’d,

To a desire which wish’d my lips were join’d

To hers. This amorous desire me taught,

A very subtile craft which at length brought

440

Me wish’d successe (do but observe how love

Makes mens ingenio’s nimbly for to move)

Her wondrous cure on Phillis I did see,

The sight of that caught me to feign a Bee

Had bit my under lip, and though her pray

445

I durst not for to take my pain away

By her inchantment, yet did my lament

Expresse as ‘twere to her my hearts intent;

She harmlesse soul pittying the grief that I

Made shew of, proffered freely to apply

450

Her cure to my feign’d wound, which added fuel,

To my hearts wound, and made it far more cruel.

Oh Thirsis! never Bee did suck from Rose,

Honey so sweet as I did suck from those

Sweet cherries of her lips, though every kisse,

455

Me thought did yet want some part of its blisse,

For though I had a ful desire, yet I

Was or restrain’d by fear, or modesty:

But whilst this honey mixt with gall descended

Thus to my heart, I sorry so soon ended

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Should be my blisse, feign’d that her charms did ease

Me somewhat, but not quite the pain surcease;

Which made her willingly to take the trouble,

That to me sweet inchantment to redouble;

Thus so increas’d this love within my breast,

465

That at the last’twas forced to leave its nest:

Nor would it be kept secret, so one day,

When we were set as we were wont to play;

Shepherds and Nymphs together on the grasse,

Each lad some secrets whispering to his lasse:

470

I Silvia told, Silvia, I burn for thee,

And sure shal die unlesse thou helpest me;

Strait at my words there in her face arose

A blush both shame and anger did disclose:

Bow’d to the ground her fair face was, and she

475

With nought but an harsh silence answer’d me,

And from me turn’d, nor ever would she deign,

Since that to see or hear me speak again,

Though ful three years are past and I have tri’d

All means I could to get her pacifi’d,

480

Except my deaths; and could but that appease

Her anger, I methinks could die with ease,

And should account it highly worth my pain,

If I by death her pity could obtain,

And for my faith would deem it recompence,

485

Should she lament me when I’m gone from hence;

But why should I with grief unto that breast,

In which I fixed have my joy, my rest?

THIRSIS

But is it possible if she should hear

Thee say thus much? She longer could forbear,

490

This true love to requite?

AMINTA

That know not I,

But when I’d speak she more my words doth fly,

Than doth an aspe the charmer.

THIRSIS

Trust to me,

Aminta, and I will procure that she

Shal hearken to thee.

AMINTA

Nothing from her can you,

495

Thirsis procure, or if procure you do

That I speak to her, yet alas in vain

Will be my speech, and I shall nothing gain:

THIRSIS

Why dost despair so?

AMINTA

Just occasion I

Have to despair, nay rather for to die;

500

For the wife Mopsu’s long since did foreshow

This my hard fortune, Mopsus, who doth know

The vertue of all herbs, and talk of birds.

THIRSIS

Which Mopfus speakst thou of? of him whose words

Are honi’d, and who has a friendly smile

505

In’s face, but in his heart has nought but guile:

Be of good cheer, Aminta, do not fear,

Those uncouth prophesies he sels so dear

To unadvised persons, I reject

As foolish, for they never have effect;

510

This know I by experience, and I,

Cause he hath thus foretold, do hope thereby

That in thy love all things wil succed wel,

AMINTA

If by experience thou canst ought me tell

Which comfort may my hope, pray don’t it hide,

THIRSIS

515

When I came hither first for to abide

Within these woods, I knew and did esteem,

This Mopsus such as thou dost now him deem;

I had by chance occasion for to go

To the great Citie; which I let him know

520

As hoping his advice, when thus to me

He spake, To the great land thou go’st, said he,

Where the fly Citizens and those o’th Court

Of simple rusticks make a scoffing sport;

Therefore be sure this counsel take of mine,

525

Come not near those whom thou shalt see to shine

With gold and stones, and other vain devices,

But above all (and flight not my advices)

Beware, least thou be led by thy ill fate,

Or youthful curios’ty to the gate

530

O’th magazine of pratlers. Then strait I

Demanded of him, what that place might be?

In this place Sorceresses live, said he;

Who by inchantments do all things unvail,

What to thee seems pure gold, to them is pale

535

And forbid brasse, those arches thou with trasure

Deemst fil’d, are dirt and mire out of measure;

There are the wals built with great art, and do

Speak themselves, and to speakers answer too:

Nor do they answer a dumb voice alone,

540

As Eccho here, but in words one by one,

Tables and stools and all go tittle tattle,

And should a dumb man enter here he’d prattle.

But ther’s worse evil yet, here maist thou be

Chang’d into water, fier, or a tree,

545

Water of tears, and fire of sighs: content,

With this fond foresight I to th’City went,

Where guided by blest fate I chanc’d to spy

The happy lodge, as I was passing by;

With curious eye expecting something worth

550

My sight, I chanc’d to hear at length come forth

Out of the gate such pleasant murm’ring noises,

Of nymphs and Sirens the harmonious voices,

As made me stand astonied with delight,

The object pleas’d so both my ears and sight.

555

Just by the [...] guard to things so good,

A man of [...] magnan’mous aspect stood;

To whom I do not wel know which I were

Best give that stile of Duke, or Cavalier,

He with benign and grave aspect together,

560

Invited great and smal to come in thither,

Nor did he me poor simple foul despise;

O gods what did I see there! near mine eyes

Enjoy’d such blessed sights, nymphs ful as fair,

As heavenly goddesses, or far more rare:

565

Beauties more bright than glittering Phoebus beams,

When, at his rise he guild’s the eastern streams;

There fate Apollo, and the Muses nine,

Shining in all their Graces, so Divine;

And, ʼmongst the Muses, sate the sage Elpin.

570

Then was I ravished, with a high desire,

Then, first I flam’d with a Poetick fire;

I sang the lives of Kings, oth’ancient times,

Scorning a mean verse, or pastorall rimes;

And, though again I to these woods return’d,

575

By my ill destiny: yet still I burn’d

With some part of that fire: yet did abound,

My Pipe, still, with a more than rurall sound.

But, envious Mopsus, chancing me to spy,

One day cast at me a Malignant eye:

580

Whereby, I hoarse became, and then long time

I silent was, and sung no more in rime.

Seen by the Wolfe, Pastors supposed me,

Which caus’d my silence: but that wolfe was he;

This I have told thee, that thou maist perceive,

585

How willing is this Mopso to deceive,

And void of hope, I’d have thee hope more still.

AMINTA

It pleases me extreamly, for to heare

What thou hast told, then of my life the care

To thee I do commit.

THIRSIS

Let me alone,

590

I care will take of it, as of my own;

Ile go see what for thee I can prevaile,

Then in an houre to meet me do not faile.

CHORUS

Most blessed age of gold! not cause the floods

Stream’d down pure snow, white milk: nor cause the woods

595

Distill’d sweet hony, or, the free earth bore

Her fruits untouch’t, nor had her bowells tore;

As yet by th’ labr’ing ploughman, lambs might erre

Through the thick forrests, without noise or fear;

Nor yet because no winters clouds begun

600

T’ecclipse that Radiant Splendor of the Sun

With which it’s warme and pleasant beames did bring

The wish’d-for happ’nesse of a constant spring;

Nor wandring pines did yet, with fails unfold,

For warr or gain compals the late known world.

605

But, only cause that foolish, and that vain,

Idol of errors, and deceit, that name

So without substance, which the Vulgar, mad,

Did a feerwards call Honour, as yet had

No Power to play the Tyrant, or controule

610

The Peace and Freedome of a joviall soule.

But nymphs and pastors sweetly liv’d, nor knew

Any delight, but what from freedom grew,

Not subject, but to law perform’d with ease

Which nature writ; Is lawful if it please.

615

No need there was of Cupids torch to move

Of shafts to force the Nymphs and Swains to love,

Their very sports inflam’d them and their smiles

They mix with their sweet words, and then e’re while,

Both with their sweeter kisses then the rose,

620

Of her fair cheeks the Virgin did disclose

Freely to all; which now alas are blown,

To the delight and pleasure but of one;

Then often by the waters of a bright

Spring, lovers us’d to take their full delight.

625

But thou perversest honour first didst shade

This fountain of delight, and thou first made

This freedom cease, and thou didst first deny

Water to quench his thirst whom love made dry;

Thou thaught’st those splendant beauties first to lie,

630

Vail’d and obscur’d from every am’rous eye;

Their all gold shining hair thou didst refrain,

Into a net, and thou hast put a rein

To all sweet dear lascivious acts, and we

Think now that theft which us’d loves gift to be,

635

And all these acts of thine turn to our pain:

But thou great Jove who with thy power dost reign,

O’re love and nature with a word, can’st tame

The greatest Monarchs and whose very name

Strikes terrour, why alas dost take delight,

640

To disturb us poor miscreants? kings of might

And power best fit thy thoughts, disturb their peace,

And grant great god that we may live at ease,

And by thy divine providence be hurl’d

Into the golden – oth’ ancient world.

645

We’l hope, since there’s no joy, when once one dies

We’l hope; that as we have seen with our eies

The Sun to set, so we may see it rise.

Act II

Scen. 1.

Satyre alone

SATYRE

Small is the Bee, much smaller is her sting,

Yet doth its wound both pain and sorrow bring,

650

But what’s more smal then love? Since it conceals

It self within such minute parts, and steals

Into the smallest spaces, now it rests

Within the valley of two alp-like breasts:

Now creeps and hides it self within the fair

655

And curled tresses of a golden hair:

Now under twinkling eye-brows, now i’th’ sleek

And rosie dimples of a laughing cheek;

Yet are it’s wounds, it’s plagues, so sad, so sore,

That nought can be imagin’d torment more.

660

Ah me! my very bowels and my heart

Boil o’re with blood, and like a cruel dart,

So Silvia’s fair ey’s pierce me, I may say

Cruel Love; but far more cruel Silvia,

That it impos’d thee, woods in their greenbrakes

665

Cru’ler then woods, Oh! how wel doth agree

Thy nature with thy name, wel did he see

Do hide fierce lions, tigers, wolves and snakes,

Thou under covert of thy fairest breast,

Hidʼst anger, hatred and disdain, which beasts

670

And worse y much (alas) than those of prey,

As lions, tygers, wolves or snakes; for they

May be appeased, but ay me! these are

Such, as will not be charm’d by gift or pray’r;

Thou slights are flowr wch from the fields I chose

675

Because thy cheek flowers much fairer showes.

I from the orchards bring thee apples fair,

Which thou rejectst disdainful, cause there are

In thy fair bosome apples far more rare.

I bring thee sweetest honey, even such

680

From hives I stole thou, deignst it not to touch

Cause on thy sweet lips sweeter ther’s by much;

But if my poverty permits me not

To give unto thee any thing but what

In thee’s more sweet and fair, my self then take;

685

Unjust, why shouldst thou such a gift forsake?

I’m not to be despised, no, for I

Saw my self in the sea when it did lie

Becalm’d & free from waves, this my fierce, stern

And sanguine look, these shoulders large, this arm

690

So strong and nervous, this rough shaggy breast,

These big-bon’d thighs of mine, and all my rest

So well knit members, are a sign that I

Am strong and lusty, it believ’st not, try;

What wil’t do with these tender fooles, whose sleek

695

Face, scarce allowes them down upon their cheek?

Women, in show, and Workes they be, nor are

Skill’d in ought else, but to dispose each haire,

In it’s due order; ther’s not one that dare

Follow thee through the woods, to hunt the Bear,

700

Or, durst encounter wilde Boares for thy sake.

I’me not so ugly, no: nor dost forsake

Me, ʼcause I am thus form’d, alas, buy why?

Because I’m poor, thou dost thy love deny.

Alas, the Villages do follow now

705

The custom of the Mighty Cities: how

Well may the golden age this called be,

Since gold alone Commands imperiously?

O! thou, who first didst teach the way, to sell

Divinest love, may torments, worse then hell,

710

Still waite and then upon thee; maist thou dy

Unpitied let thy cold ashes ly

Unburied; let Nimphs and Shepherds cease

Passing to say, Soule, do thou rest in Peace;

Let the raine wet thee, move thee may the wind;

715

Let flocks and strangers too, be so unkind,

As for to trample on thee, not to be nam’d;

Horrid and Monstrous, ʼtis not to be told,

How Love is made the Price of abject Gold.

But, why in vaine lament I? since I see,

720

Beasts, for their safety, use those Armes, which be,

Allotted them by Nature, Tigers paw’s

Use for defence, Lions their teeth and claw’s;

The Stag does for her safety use to fly,

A womans weapon in her Beauty. Why?

725

(Then since all these do use their nat’ral armes

To conquer foes, or save themselves from harms)

Should not I when that nature ha’s me made

Apt for to ravish, make use of the trade?

I’l force, I’l ravish what she me denies,

730

Nor will be moved with her pray’rs nor cries.

Not long ago I told was by a Swain,

That in the fountain lies in yonder plain;

She often baths her self, there I intend

To hide me in the bushes, to the end

735

That when she comes I may be sure to take

Hold on her; what resistance can she make

ʼGainst me, poor tender soule? and for her cries,

I’l neither them nor of her beauty prize

The power. Oh if I can but once entwine,

740

This hand within her locks, why then she’s mine,

Nor shal the gods release her, til that I

For my revenge my armes in blood do dy.

Scen. 2.

Daphne and Thirsis

DAPHNE

Thirsis, as I thee told, I long since thought,

Amintas did love Silvia, and have sought,

745

God knows, all way’s to further this his love,

And shall the more, since thou art pleas’d to move

Me in it: but I rather had by far

Chuse for to tame a lion, or fierce bear,

Then such a simple girle, who does not know

750

How piercing be her beauties armes, and though

She others kils, yet is her self stil sound,

And wounding others knows, not how to wound.

THIRSIS

And where’s that child so simple han’t a mind,

As soon as out of swathling bands, to find

755

Arts to seem handsom and to make her please?

And how to kil with pleasing? and with ease

Can tell what armes they be cause death? nay more,

What armes they be which life again restore:

DAPHNE

Who mistresse is of so much art?

THIRSIS

As though

760

Thou knewst not Daphne, ‘tis the same doth shew

Flight to the winged birds, and doth infuse

Swimming to fishes, teaches Buls to use

Their hornes, and makes Juno’s proud bird to spread

Her Argus-eye-deckt feathers o’re his head:

DAPHNE

765

I’d very fain know how you cal this same

Mistress of arts?

THIRSIS

Why Daphne is her name.

DAPHNE

Our filthy liar that thou art.

THIRSIS

Why

Art thou not able then to keep at school (fool

A thousand girls, although no need there is

770

In this same Art of Love of Mistresses,

For nature in their mistresse, though, ʼtis true,

The mother and the nurse bear a share too.

DAPHNE

Come, thou too knavish art, in sum I’l tel

Thee that I am not yet resolved well,

775

If Silvia be so simple as the feigns

Her self to be; for down in yonder plains

Where the clear waters of the silent lake

Incircled round a pretty Island make,

I t’other day saw Silvia counsel take,

780

How she the golden tresses of her head

In pretty curls might o’re her forehead spread,

And then how she might fittest o’re them place

Her snow-white vail, o’re that with better grace

Order some fragrant flowers, with lilies fair

785

Her white neck she’d adorn; and so compare

Which was the whitest, now a lovely rose,

To her sweet cheeks to see which did disclose

The liveliest hue; then with delight would she

Smile, as ʼtwere boasting of the victory:

790

Methought she seem’d to say, I onely do

For your disgrace base flowers carry you,

Not for my ornament, since all may see

How much in beauty you must yeild to me;

But whilst she flatt’red thus her self, her eye

795

By chance she turn’d, and turning did espie

That I sat laughing in th’adjacent bowers,

At which she blush’d, and strait let fall her flowers;

When laugh the more to see her blush did I,

Which her cheeks tinged in a deeper dy;

800

But cause that onely on one side her head

Her hair was gathered, on the other spread;

She fearful I should see again, poor soule,

At ‘twere from the clear fountain counsel stole,

And though she were undrest, yet pleas’d was she

805

That, so undrest, she look’d so handsomely:

I saw it and was silent.

THIRSIS

Thou dost tell

What I before told thee; guest I not well?

DAPHNE

Well didst thou guesse, but I have been told how

Pastors and nymphs were not so sly as now

810

In former times, nor young was I so bold:

The world do’s grow more wicked, as more old.

THIRSIS

ʼTis true that then Citizens us’d not so

Oft in the Countrey come, nor Rusticks go

Unto the City; now their crafty race

815

As well as customes do with us take place;

But to our purpose canst not thou procure,

That the hard-hearted Silvia may endure

To hear Amintas speak alone; or’t least

In company with thee, which she’l think best:

DAPHNE

820

I’ll tell thee, Silvia now so coy doth grow

That well how to obtain it I don’t know.

THIRSIS

Amintas too respectfully is nice.

DAPHNE

True sayst thou Thirsis; there can no worse vice

In lovers be; he that would learn the art

825

Of divine love must lay respect apart,

Must dare demand, solicite, importune;

And if by these means he can’t overcome,

Must ravish too: Thirsis, thou knowst so well,

That I am sure there’s none need thee to tell,

830

The nature of a woman, if she flies

ʼTis cause she’d be pursu’d; if she deny’s,

Alas ʼtis onely cause that she would have

Men to force that which first they did but crave,

She fights to be o’recome: laugh not at me

835

That I speak thus in confidence to thee,

And that I speak in rimes, but thou knowst, Thirsis,

I can for rimes return thee more than verses.

THIRSIS

Thou hast no reason to suspect that I

Should e’r tell ought against thy modesty.

840

But I conjure thee, Daphne, by the dear

Remembrance of thy youth that thou wilt here

Lend thy assistance with me for relief

Of poor Amintas, who else dies with grief.

DAPHNE

How neatly he conjures me, by the joy

845

Of mine that’s past, and by my present’noy?

But what wilt have me do?

THIRSIS

Judgement and skil

I know thou hast, then onely, that thou will.

DAPHNE

In sum I’l tell thee then Silvi’ and I

This day at Dians well, which is hard by,

850

Intend to wash, where an inviting shade

For nymphs and shepherds by a beech is made;

And there she’l naked bath her tender wast.

THIRSIS

What then?

DAPHNE

What then! if thou hast wit thou maist

Guest at the rest.

THIRSIS

I guest, but do not know

855

Whether he’l have the heart to come or no.

DAPHNE

If come he won’t, for ought that I can say,

Stay until she looks after him he may.

THIRSIS

He so deserves.

DAPHNE

But, Thirsis, may not we

(At leisure now) talk somehow too of thee?

860

Why dost not thou a sweet-heart get? Alas

Thou’rt yet but young! and scarce dost four years passe

Of the fifth lustre (and full well do I

Know when these arms have danc’t thee lullaby)

Why wilt neglected live, and void of joy?

865

Since without love there’s no delight (my boy)

THIRSIS

A man may shun fond love, and yet not fast

From Venus pleasures, he the sweet do’s taste

Without the bitter.

DAPHNE

Most unsavorie ʼtis:

The sweet’s not seasoned with some bitterness

870

Soon satiate.

THIRSIS

Better once satisfide:

Then before meat and after to abide

Stil hungry.

DAPHNE

Thirsis, if the meat you have

doth please; the more you tast, the more you crave

THIRSIS

But who can alwaies present have that food

875

Which, though he’s hungry, to his taste is good.

DAPHNE

Who seeks no good shal find none

THIRSIS

There’s no ease

In seeking that, which found, ʼtis true doth please;

But if not found when sought torments us more.

Thirsis wil ne’r a lover be, before

880

That cruel love shal leave it’s company

Of sighs and tears, enough already I (though

Have sigh’d and wept.

DAPHNE

Enough enjoyed

Perhaps that hast not.

THIRSIS

Nor desire, if so

Dear I must but it.

DAPHNE

Well if nothing move

885

Thee can, at length thou wilt be forc’d to love:

THIRSIS

Love cannot force who’s out of his command.

DAPHNE

But who is’t can out of loves empire stand?

THIRSIS

Who fears his witching charms and flies away.

DAPHNE

Where wilt thou fly if love his wings display?

THIRSIS

890

But love when young ha’s his wings short, and so

Can’t overtake the man will from him go. (cry,

DAPHNE

The birth of love, there’s no man can dis-

And when discri’d, his wings grown great, he’l fly.

THIRSIS

Some by experience his first birth can tel.

DAPHNE

895

Thirsis, since thou pretendst to know so wel

That Art, we’l see if thou canst from him run,

This I protest to thee, I’l not be won

A hand, a foot, or eye-brow for to move,

Either to help or aid thee in thy love.

THIRSIS

900

Fy cruel one then couldst thou dead me see?

If thou wilt have me love, why, love thou me.

DAPHNE

Why doft thou mock me, Thirsis? perhaps thou

Dost not deserve so fine a mistresse; how

Many a colour’d and smooth face beguiles.

THIRSIS

905

I do not mock thee; no, but thou mean-whiles

With this pretext my love dost not accept;

This is the common trick: but if reject

My love thou dost, I without love will live.

DAPHNE

Thirsis, maist thou contently live and thrive,

910

More then e’re yet thou didst, maist live in ease

And leisure, without which love ne’re doth please.

THIRSIS

Daphne, this leisure god hath granted me,

One who a god may here esteemed be;

To whom on verdant plains and cliffy rocks,

915

From see to see we feed our herds and flocks:

Thirsis, said he, let others take a care,

To chase the wolves, and thieves, let others share

Rewards unto the servants; others guard

My wal’d in sheep; thou (from these labours bar’d,)

920

Shalt sing: then just it is my pipe should move,

Not in fond fancies of a worldly love;

But that in higher strains it onely hollow

The ancestors of my Jove, or Apollo.

(For which of those to call him well, in troth,

925

I know not, since he do’s resemble both)

Progenitors of greater worth by far,

Then or bright Saturn or the Heavens are;

(Low Muse to such a merit,) but yet he,

Sing I or clear or hoarse, rejects not me;

930

His praise I dare not chant, nor well can I

Worthily honour him, but silently,

And with due reverence; but his altars ne’r

Without my flowers or sweet perfumes yet were

And when I do forget him to adore,

935

Or worship; then let Thirsis be no more:

Let Rivers change their beds, the soane advance

To wash the Persian banks, the Tigris France.

DAPHNE

High ho, thou’rt flown too high, prethee descend

Unto our purpose.

THIRSIS

Daphne, I intend,

940

That thou shouldst as thou go’st along the way

Endeavour for to soften Silvia;

I’l procure that he come, this task of mine

I doubt will harder be by far than thine,

Then go thy waies:

DAPHNE

I do, but I did mean

945

By this talk part of which thou didst not dream;

THIRSIS

If I can wel discern him by the face,

Aminta ʼtis appears in yonder place.

Scen. 3.

Aminta Thirsis

AMINTA

I’ll see what Thirsis may have done for me,

In what to do he promis’d; but if he

950

Have nothing done, why then, before that I

Will be consum’d to nothing, I will die

Before the rigid Silvia; that abate

My death, may somewhat of her cruell hate,

She (that so pleas’d is with that plague, the Dart

955

Of her fair ey’s ha’s gi’n my love-sick heart)

Wil with that wound which my brest shal endure

From mine own hands be doubly pleas’d I’m sure.

THIRSIS

I new’s of comfort bring thee, and content,

Then deare Aminta, cease thus to lament.

AMINTA

960

Why say’st thou Thirsis, must I live or die?

THIRSIS

I bring thee life and safety, for if I

The other had, I’d not it bring, but need

There is of courage, man, and that with speed?

AMINTA

What need is there of courage, pray and where

965

Must I employ it?

THIRSIS

It thy Silvia were

Within a wood, encompass’d round with rocks,

Where lions and fierce Tigers by whole flocks

Did range, no way to scape by strength or art,

To go to rescue her, would’st have the heart?

AMINTA

970

More joyfull farr then on a holy day,

A Countrey wench doth run to dance or play.

THIRSIS

If the ʼmongst murd’rers were, I fain would know,

Whether thou dar’st into her rescue go.

AMINTA

I’d go more readier then the Stag does fly

975

To the long-with’d-for fountain, when he’s dry.

THIRSIS

But greater proofes more courage do require.

AMINTA

I would for Silvia’s sake passe through the fire,

Or through the floods, when down the Mountains throw,

With a full torrent, their dissolved snow;

980

I’d go to hell it selfe, if hell could be,

Where there is one so fair so good as she;

But tell me pray, where is’t?

THIRSIS

Hark then.

AMINTA

Go on.

THIRSIS

Silvia attends thee naked and alone,

At the same fountain call’d Diana’s well;

985

Dar’st thou to go.

AMINTA

Alas! what dost thou tell

Me, Thirsis? naked and alone do’s she

Stay for me, sayst thou?

THIRSIS

Unless Daphne be

There (who of our side is) alone I say.

AMINTA

But naked prethee do’s she for me stay?

THIRSIS

990

I say she there stayes naked for thee, but-

AMINTA

But what? thou kilst me it that word thou put.

THIRSIS

But I can’t tel if thou hadst best to go.

AMINTA

Oh hard conclusion! which all the forego-

Ing sweetness doth imbitter: with what art

995

Doth strive to wound my almost bloodlesse heart?

Is’t not enough that thus unhappy I

Am, but thou wilt increase my misery?

THIRSIS

Aminta, if thou wilt my counsel take,

Thou mayst be happy:

AMINTA

What, for the gods sake,

1000

Dost thou advise me;

THIRSIS

What! That thou be bold,

And on what fortune thee presents lay hold.

AMINTA

The gods I hope will keep me that I may

Ne’re think a thought to displease Silvia:

I ne’re displeas’d her yet, but by my love,

1005

Nor was’t my fault, her beauties power did move

Me to’t: but let me when I cease to strive

Silvia to please, no longer care to live.

THIRSIS

Answer me now, if in thy Pow’r it were

To leave her love, wouldst do’t to pleasure her

AMINTA

1010

Love lets me not say so, may’t does deny

That I should think to leave her love, though I

Could do’t.

THIRSIS

Why then though leave her love thou could’st;

Yet, in despight of her, love her thou would’st.

AMINTA

Not in despight, but yet I’d love her still.

THIRSIS

1015

Why then thou love would’st against her will.

AMINTA

Yes, certainly I should.

THIRSIS

Then dar’st thou not

Against her will (fool as thou art) take what

At first may hard and heavy seem, once past

Sweeter and sweeter growes unto the last.

AMINTA

1020

Thirsis, love for me answers, and my heart

Know’s it’s own means, but cannot then impart,

Thee constant use ha’s skil’d in loves great Art,

But that ha’s bound my tongue which bound my heart.

THIRSIS

Why then we wil not go.

AMINTA

Yes go wil I:

1025

But not where thou dost deem.

THIRSIS

Whither?

AMINTA

To die;

To die alas I’l go, if this be all

The favour thou hast done me.

THIRSIS

Think’st it small?

Think’st Daphne counsel would to go, if find

1030

In part she did not that ʼtwas Silvia’s mind?

And who can tell, it may be Silvia too

Know’s it her selfe, but would not have that you

Should know she knows it; now, if thou dost crave

Her full consent, thou do’st desire to have

1035

What would displease her most, and then (foole) where

Is that desire of thine to pleasure her?

Or if she would that thy injoyment were

Thy theft, and not her gift, what need’st thou care?

AMINTA

But who assures me such is her desire?

THIRSIS

1040

Why see? thou do’st that certainty require,

Which does and ought displease her, and which thou

Ought’st not to seek: but pray imagine now

That such were her desire, and thou not go,

Equal the doubt is, the losse equal; so,

1045

I think it better that couragiusly

Thou like a man, than like a coward, die.

Ar’t silent? thou’rt o’recome, confesse I pray

This love Aminta; it occasion may

Thy greater Vict’ry; let’s go then.

AMINTA

I pray.

THIRSIS

1050

What, stay! seest not how fast the time does run?

AMINTA

Pray let us think first wht is to be done.

THIRSIS

We by the way wil think the rest, but who

Do’s too much think things, seldom wel doth do.

CHORUS

Love, who can teach us thy mysterious art?

1055

Who thy divinest fancies can impart?

Where may we learne them? who can them display?

Since (though the mind them comprehend) away?

Arm’d with thy wing’d prowes, they soare above,

Not learned Athens ere the art of love

1060

Could teach, nor its Liceo could it shew,

Phebus in Helicon thy art ne’r knew;

He could discourse of love, ʼtis true, but so,

As if he did thy art but blindly know,

Or were a learner, cold were his desires,

1065

Nor did his voice burn with celestiall fires,

As fits thy power, nor could his thoughts arise

To comprehend thy sacred mysteries;

Thou only, Love, a worthy master art,

In thy sublime, and more then heav’nly art;

1070

To rustick brests thou mak’st known those Divine

And most Celestiall Characters of thine,

Writ by thine own hand in anothers eye,

Thy faithfull servants tongues thou dost untie:

And mak’st them glide in pure and nobler stream’s,

1075

Then ever issu’d from Poetick veines;

By thee divinest love there’s more exprest

In broken words and speeches, then the best

Of Orators can do, and more doth move

Thy silence, then their Rhetorick, to love:

1080

Heart-conquering, Love to others, leave will I

To learn thy art in blind philosophy,

Or from the learned schooles: I only will

In faire ey’s study this mysterious skill;

And their high stiles and Poetry will lesse,

1085

Then shall my rough or rustick rimes, express:

Act III

Scen. 1.

Thirsis Chorus of Shepherds

THIRSIS

O Horrid cruelty! unheard! unseen!

Or ever yet remembered to have been

In humane brest; three hundred times, nay four

Ingratefull sex; thou nymph ingrateful more.

1090

Why didst thou, Nature, show thy utmost art,

Thus in adorning womans outward part?

Why did’st her beaut’ous countenance indue

With such a sun-like soul-bewitching hue?

And didst afford to grace her mind within

1095

Nothing but falsenesse, cruelty and sin.

Negligent Mistresse! But ay me, my dear

Aminta will have slain himself, I fear;

ʼTis full three houres that round about the ground,

Where I him left I sought him, but have found

1100

Nor him, nor yet his footsteps, ’tis too plain

May tell me news of him, friends did you see

I clearly see that he himself hath slain;

Aminta or hear of him?

But stay, perhaps those shepherds yonder be

CHORUS

1105

Thou dost show

So troubled; that the cause we fain would know

Of this thy grief; from whence proceeds this sweat?

This sorrow; tel us if thou think’st it meet.

THIRSIS

I fear Aminta’s ill, did you him see?

CHORUS

1110

No him we have not seen, since that from thee

Long since he parted; but pray tell us plain

What dost thou fear?

THIRSIS

Lest he himself have slain.

CHORUS

That he ha’s slain himself! but what could move

Him such an act to do?

THIRSIS

Hatred and love.

CHORUS

1115

Who two such potent enemies don’t fear?

What can’t they do? but tel us pray more clear.

THIRSIS

His great love of a nymph, and her no smal

Hatred of him.

CHORUS

Nay prethee tell us all;

This is a place of passage, and whilst you

1120

Relate it, news may brought be; perhaps too

Himself may come mean-while.

THIRSIS

I willingly

Recount it wil, that the just infamy

Of such a strange ingratitude may rest

Upon that cruel and remorselest breast;

1125

Aminta told was (I alas was he

That told it him and he was led by me,

Now I repent me) that his Silvia dear

This day with Daphne in a fountain clear

Would bath her naked limbs, he thither went

1130

Not mov’d by his desire, but to content

My importunities: oft back have gone

He would; but that I still did thrust him on;

Now when we come were to the fountain nigh;

We thought we heard a womans woefull cry,

1135

And not far off we Daphne saw, her ey’s

Swollen with tears, when she saw us, her cries

Did pierce the heav’ns, run and make haste, said she,

Silvia is forc’d. Amintas presently,

Not staying to hear more, flew away so

1140

Swift as I never yet saw swifter Do:

I followed him; when, lo, we straightaway see

The beauteous Silvia ti’d unto a tree;

The rope to tie her was her brightest hair,

Which in a thousand knots intangled were

1145

About the plants; that girdle us’d to be

The former warder of her chastitie,

Was us’d now to her rape, and serv’d to bind

Unto the tree her snow-white hands behind.

The very plant it self did condescend

1150

To this foule act, and seem’d as ’twere to lend

It’s ful assistance to the rape; for round

About her legs two pliant twigs were bound;

Just before her a cruel Satyre stood,

With looks denoting villany and blood,

1155

Who finisht had to bind her; she poor heart

Did strive with all her force and all her art,

But what (alas!) could all her force or skil

Prevail ’gainst him who had such strength at will;

Aminta with his sharp wel-brandish’d dart

1160

Aim’d at, but mist, the cursed Satyres heart;

I gather’d up what stones I could, but he

Seeing us two, thought it was best to flee:

We him pursu’d, Aminta as his flight

Gave leave, turn’d back his ey’s to have the sight

1165

Of her fair members, which more soft by far

Seem’d than Swans down, and whiter much than are

The snow-deck’d Alpes, but when we had in vain

Pursu’d the rogue, he turning back again

Accosts her thus, Pardon, O Silvia fair,

1170

These hands of mine, which with such boldness dare

Approach thy members, for they’re forc’d to loose

These knots which ministred to thy abuse;

Then since that fortune has been pleas’d to send

Them such a blisse, let it not thee offend.

CHORUS

1175

Words that would mollifie a heart of stone!

What answer did she gave him them?

THIRSIS

Why none:

But looking down disdainfully, she tride,

All that she could, her fairest breasts to hide;

He from the tree begins her hair to loose;

1180

And thus he seem’d to say, Durst thou abuse

These golden curls, base plant? which do to thee

So great an honour; ah, unworthy be

Thy branches of such knots, what vantage pray

Can we poor Lovers boast of? Since trees may

1185

Enjoy those comforts which we want, entwine

By force those locks which blesse these hands of mine

By their bare touch; this done he from behind

Unties the knot, and does her hands unbind;

In manner so as if he seem’d to fear

1190

Their touch, and yet to touch could not forbear;

Then stoops that he might loose her feet, but she

Finding her hands were now at libertie,

Looks on him scornfully, says touch not, I

Am Dians nymph. I can my feet untie

CHORUS

1195

Can so much pride reign in so fair a heart?

O for so good an act ingrateful part!,

THIRSIS

He did respectfully himself retire

Not looking on her, though he did desire,

Deny’d himself that pleasure, which on trial

1200

He fear’d would give her trouble of denial;

I heard and saw all this, and hid did lie,

And though about to check her cruelty;

Yet I with-held: but heare the most unkind

Part of all yet; she did at length unbind

1205

Her self, scarce loose, nor bidding him adieu,

Faster then fleetest Stag away she flew;

And yet to fear I’m sure she cause had none,

For his respect to her was ful wel known.

CHORUS

Why did she fly then?

THIRSIS

She would of her rape

1210

The rescue attribute to her escape,

Not to his modest love.

CHORUS

Ingrateful too

In this! but what said he? what did he do?

THIRSIS

I know not, I vext at her rigor, ran

To overtake and hold her but in vain;

1215

For soon I lost her track, then turning, where

I left Aminta, could not find him there;

My heart presages ill, for this I’m sure

He’d rather die than this sad chance endure:

CHORUS

The custom ʼtis (we know) of those that are

1220

In love, to threaten death, but very rare

Are those effect it.

THIRSIS

I’l go to the cave

Of sage Elpino, where I sure shal have

News of him if he lives, for that’s his hant;

There on his oaten pipe he us’d to chant

1225

Sweet songs, and there lament him of his love,

And make the very rocks and mountains move;

The Rivers stop their course to hear his layes,

The trees incline, and wild beasts leave their preys.

Scen. 2.

Aminta Daphne Nerina.

AMINTA

Pitilesse pity Daphne sure was thine,

1230

When thou with-heldst this hand, this dart of mine;

That so my death being delay’d by fate

Might be more bitter by how much more late;

And why dost trace me thus? or thinkst to force

Hope into me by this thy vain discourse:

1235

What dost thou fear? that I my self should slay,

Thou fear’st my good; then prethee goe away;

DAPHNE

Despair not thus Aminta, for if I

Know Silvia wel, ʼtwas shame that made her fly,

Not cruelty.

AMINTA

Alas! there is for me

1240

No way but to despair, since hope wil be

As’t ha’s been yet my ruine, stil I find

It strives as ʼtwere to blossom in my mind;

And whispers to me live, and can ought be

Worse then a life, to such a wretch as me?

DAPHNE

1245

Live wretch, live stil I say, and let this be

Support unto thee in thy misery;

That if thy hope in life do but maintain thee,

At length thar naked fair one it will gain thee.

AMINTA

Both love and fortune, though that at the brink

1250

Of wrechednesse I was, yet did not think

Me yet forlorn enough, until that I

Had fully seen what fully both denie.

NERINA

Must I then alwaies have the luck to be

The messenger of such sad news? ay me!

1255

Wretched Mantano! what sad heart wil thine

Be when thou com’st to hear this newes of mine?

O sad and des’late father thou, nay rather,

By losse of thy dear Silvia, no more Father!

DAPHNE

I a sad voice to hear.

AMINTA

And I hear sound

1260

The name of Silvia, which my heart do’s wound.

Who is it names her?

DAPHNE

it seemes at first sight

To be Nerina, Cynthia’s cheife delight,

Who ha’s so sweet comportment, so fair face,

Such charming ey’s, such a bewitching Grace.

NERINA

1265

And yet alas, I’m forc’d to let him know

Of this most fatal chance of thine, that so

He may seek those unhappy bones, if no

More rests of thee; oh! my deare Silvia, oh!

AMINTA

Ay me, what say’s she!

NERINA

Daphne,

DAPHNE

what, and why

1270

Do’st to thy self name Silvia, and then cry.

NERINA

Alas! with reason I lament her sad

And cruel fate;

AMINTA

What fate can be so bad

To make thee thus lament? Ay me, I feele

My heart a dying, as though pierc’d with steele,

1275

Is she alive?

DAPHNE

Prethee to us relate

What thus thou mutter’st of her desp’rate fate.

NERINA

Ye Gods! why am I messenger? yet I

Must tel’t: did she, you know the reason why

Come e’n now naked to my Lodg, and there

1280

Re-cloath’d her selfe again; she by her pray’r

Prevail’d with me, that I would with her go

In Eliceto for to hunt a Do.

I pleas’d her, and we went when, neer the ground,

Gather’d together many Nymphs we found;

1285

Scarce had we spoke to them, when lo we see

A mighty wolfe start from behind a tree,

Great out of measure was he, and with blood

His nose was di’d, he fiercely looking stood;

Silvia streight to her bow an arrow fits,

1290

And she nere us’d to misse; so now she hits

Him just upon the head, he fly’s again

Into the wood, she followes him amaine.

AMINTA

O sad beginning, which do’s pierce my heart!

What end wilt have?

NERINA

I with another dart

1295

Follow’d her track, but at great distance, since

She was i’th wood ere I could move me thence,

Yet I her footsteps made a shift to trace,

Until I came to the most desert place

Of all the wood, where, lo, by chance I found

1300

My dearest Silvia’s dart upon the ground,

And not farr off from it I did espy

That snow-white vaile, which I my selfe did ty

Upon her head, which as you see is di’d

With crimson gore, and looking round I spi’d

1305

Seven fierce wolves, which seem’d to lick the blood

Of a nak’d body, about which they stood,

Such was my hap, and so intent they were

Upon their prey, they saw not I was there;

So I return’d, and this is the full tale

1310

I tell of Silvia can, see here the vaile.

AMINTA

Th’ast told too much, this vaile, and this blood be

Sure tokens of her death.

DAPHNE

Ah poore wretch! he

Is dead with greife too.

NERINA

No, he breathes, revives,

ʼTis but a sudden fainting, see he lives.

AMINTA

1315

Greise, why? (alas!) do’st thou torment me so,

And do’st not kill outright? if thou too flow

Beest, or wouldst have my hand the instrument

To do’t, to this I’me very well content;

And it shal execute that death which thou

1320

Refusest, or to do, or know’st not how;

Then since the certainty of this we know,

And nothing wants now to augment my woe;

Why should I longer stay? oh Daphne! why

Did’st not permit me, when I would, to die?

1325

To this sad end reserv’dst thou me? to this!

Sure sweet my death had been, nay more a blisse,

And greatest happinesse, had but that dart,

Which cruel thou withhelden, pier’d my heart.

But heav’ns deni’d it, and did feare least that

1330

I by my sudden death forerun should, what

They had ordain’d me, now my utmost ill

They executed have, permit they will

To make the full summe of their cruelty:

And thou permi too must) that I may dy.

DAPHNE

1335

Restrain this frantick humour of thy youth,

Until we do heare further of the truth.

AMINTA

Why do’st thou strive to keep me off with such

Delay’s? I’ve staid too long, and heard too much.

NERINA

I would I had been dumb.

AMINTA

Nymph, pray bestow

1340

On me that blood-bespotted Vail; that so

Small, but whole relique of my Silvia;

That since no more there rests of her, it may

Witnesse my death, and if there ought can be

To do’t may serve t’augment my misery;

1345

Though, I confest, ʼtis not so small that I

Need to increase it, to perswade me dy.

NERINA

Had I best giv’t him, or deny’t him? I

Think for th’occasion I were best deny.

AMINTA

What cruell one! so small a gift to me,

1350

Who am resolv’d nere to ask more of thee?

In this too wretched fate, I yeeld with you,

Then let the Vaile remain, and so adieu;

I go to turn no more.

DAPHNE

Aminta, stay,

Gods! with what fury do’s he fly away?

NERINA

1355

He flies so fast, that it will be in vaine

To follow him, I down in yonder plaine

Wil seek Montano, but I do not know

If I were best to tell the newes or no.

CHORUS

There is no cause, which death may move

1360

To bind him, ha’s a noble heart;

His faith’s enough first, then his love,

Nor is so hard of love the art.

By him alone that loves wel, love is sought,

And like a Merchandise by love is bought;

1365

And seeking love we often find

A Glory, which we leave behind.

Act IV

Scen. 1.

Daphne, Silvia and Chore of Shepherds.

DAPHNE

That wind that brought the sad new’s of thy death,

Brought with it likewise in the selfe same breath

Thy present and thy future ill, and thou

1370

(Thanks be to God) art live and well, when now

I deem’d thee dead; Nerina with such greife

It told: had she been dumb, or others deaf.

SILVIA

The danger sure was great, and she indeed

DAPHNE

A just occasion for to tell it, though,

1375

She had not, but let me thy danger know,

And how thou scap’dst.

SILVIA

I’ll tell thee, I, in chase

Of a fierce wolf, unto the thickest place

Came of the wood, so that I quite the track

Did of his footsteps loose, but turning back

1380

Again, I spi’d him; by my shaft I knew

On a dead carkase they had newly slain;

That ʼtwas the same wolf first before me flew.

He with some others feeding was amain,

Of what I could not well discern, but he

1385

Leaving his prey came running after me.

I stood him; with intent to make him feel,

My dart than arrow was the sharper steel;

And thou knowst well I’m mistresse of the art,

Of brandishing and lacing wel a dart;

1390

I seldom use to misse, and so, when nigh

Enough I thought him, I my dart let fly,

But was it fault of fortune, or of me,

I mist the wolf, and stuck it in a tree:

The Wolf more fiercely at me runs, and I,

1395

Seeing ʼtwas vain to use my bow, did fly:

He follows me, (now hear a chance,) my vail

Hap’d to untie, and with the murm’ring gale

Came through the woods, blew up and down, at last

Abot a bough tangled it self so fast,

1400

That though my force redoubled was, my strength

Could not prevail a rescue, but at length,

Seeing no was to’scape, I thought it best

Quite to untie it, and there let it rest;

Which done, I ran again with all my might,

1405

Feare adding thousand wings unto my flight,

That he nere joyn’d me, and I came out safe

Unto my lodge, where first of all I have

Encountred thee, and wondred much to see

Thee stand amaz’d, and wondring so at me.

DAPHNE

1410

Thou liv’st, alas! but others not.

SILVIA

doth’t greive

Thee Daphne then that I am still alive?

Hat’st thou me so?

DAPHNE

no Silvia, I’m full glad

Thou liv’st, anothers death ʼtis makes me sad.

SILVIA

Whose death?

DAPHNE

Amintaʼs.

SILVIA

Is he dead, and how?

DAPHNE

1415

Well how I cannot tell, nor do I know

If it be certain.

SILVIA

Strange! but canʼt divine

What was the occasion of his death?

DAPHNE

why? thine.

SILVIA

I understand thee not.

DAPHNE

The tidings sad

Brought of thy wretched death, such power had

1420

O’re him, poore soul, and o’re his wearied life,

That I beleive ʼthas brought him cord or knife.

SILVIA

I hope that vaine will this suspect of thine

Be of his death, as vain was that of mine;

For when men come to the effect, they strive

1425

(Let them boast what they wil befare) to live.

DAPHNE

Silvia, thou know’st not what the fire of love

Can in a heart that’s not of marble move,

But thine’s more hard than stone, else thou believe

Would’st him, for whom thou yet seem’st not to grieve;

1430

And would’st have lov’d him who far more did prize

Thy love, than the dear apples of her ey’s.

I wel believ’d him, knew, and saw’t, when he

Having unloos’d thee (Tigresse) from the tree,

An act that would have forc’d thee him to love,

1435

Had’st had a heart; but what is’t thee can move?

I say I saw him there reverse his dart

And with his ful force strive to pierce his heart;

Nor did repent him, though at first he did

It in his crimson gore; but once more tri’d

1440

To make it enter farther, and he sure

Had pierc’d his heart, but I could not endure

To see’t, so staid him; yet believe the rage

Of that small wound did not at all asswage

His desp’rate constancy, but onely made

1445

A freer passage for his thirsty blade.

SILVIA

What dost thou tell?

DAPHNE

I saw him too when he

First understood news of the death of thee

To swound for grief; reviv’d, he fled away

In fury with intent himself to slay:

1450

And he’l have done it surely.

SILVIA

Think’st thou so.

DAPHNE

I cannot doubt it.

SILVIA

Oh my Daphne, oh

Why followedst not to hinder him, with me

Come now and seek to find him; for if he,

Thinking me dead, resolv’d himself to kill,

1455

Sure now I live, remain in life he will.

DAPHNE

I follow’d him, and sought him, but in vain,

For when he once got out of sight, again

I could not find him, nor his footsteps; thou

Then whither, prethee, wilt go seek him now?

SILVIA

1460

Alas let’s go however, for if we

Don’t stay him, he will his own murd’rer be.

DAPHNE

Perhaps it grieves thee then that any one

Should boast of killing him, but thee alone;

Or cruel one dost think it scorn, his heart

1465

Should wounded be by any, but thy dart?

Content thy self, how e’re he dies, yet he

Dies for thy sake, thou wilt his murd’rer be.

SILVIA

Ay melthy comfort’s harsh, but now I find

That grief of heart, which overswayes my mind;

1470

For his sad chance imbittered is the more,

By now much I was rigorous before,

And the remembrance of my cruelty

Torments me now, I call’d it honesty,

And so it was, but too severe by far,

1475

Too cruel since it did all pity bar;

Now I repent me.

DAPHNE

Strange! what do I hear?

Pitiful thou? what can thy flint heart bear

The least impress’on? weep’st thou? what can move

These tears? are they of pity or of love?

SILVIA

1480

They tears of love not, but of pity, are.

DAPHNE

Pity to love is alwaies messenger,

As lightning to the thunder.

CHORUS

Oft when rest

He hidden seeks within a virgins breast,

Who had with too strict honesty before,

1485

Against his fly charms shut and barr’d the door:

He of mild pitie his fond servant takes

The shape and habit, and so entrance makes.

DAPHNE

Silvia, these tears of love be, ʼtis too plain

Art silent? dost thou love? thou lov’st in vain:

1490

O divine force of love! how justly thou

Chastisest those who don’t thy pow’r avow!

Wretched Aminta! like the Bee who leaves

Sorrow to him he stings, but yet bereaves

Himself of life: so now thou victor art,

1495

And dying wounded hast that stony heart

Which living thou ne’r couldst, and if thou be

A wandring spir’t, as I believe, then see

Her tears, and though to thee all joy be past,

Rejoyce that thou hast overcome at last.

1500

Lover in life, belov’d in death; if thy

Fate ʼtwere not to be lov’d til thou didst die,

Or if this cruel one at no lesse price

Would fell her love, then to him for it dies;

See thou hast given her price she sought,

1505

And with thy early death, her love hast bought.

CHORUS

Dear price to him that gave it, but more griev-

Ous far (alas) to her did it receive.

SILVIA

Could I but with my love his life regain,

Or with my life call him from death again!

DAPHNE

1510

Ah pitiful too late! and too late wife,

Pity assists not where fate help denies.

Scen. 2.

Ergasto Chore of Shepherds Silvia Daphne.

ERGASTO

So full my breast of pity is, and so

Clogd up with horror, that I do not know

Whither to turn me, nothing comes to fight,

1515

Nothing I hear, which doth not me affright.

CHORUS

What newes brings our Ergasto? sure ʼtis bad,

His countenance and accent both are sad.

ERGASTO

I bring the sad news of Aminta’s death.

SILVIA

Ay me!

ERGASTO

The noblest shepherd that did breath

1520

Within those woods; whose sweet comportments were

Unto the nymphs, and muses both, so dear.

CHORUS

And is he dead? and how? relate that we

May his untimely end lament with thee.

SILVIA

I dare not listen to this sad discourse,

1525

Nor yet go near to hear it, though of force

Hear it I must, wicked relentlesse heart

Of mine, what fear’st thou? go receive that dart

Which he brings in his tongue; that so there-by

May be made known thy heartlesse cruelty.

1530

Shepherd I come a partner here to be

Of thy grief, which thou promist’s others, me

Perhaps it more concerns, and as a due

Debt of my rigor I receiv’t from you.

ERGASTO

Nymph, I believe thee well; for at his death

1535

He with thy name gave up his latest breath.

DAPHNE

Now begin this sad story.

ERGASTO

I surround

The Mount did with some nets, spread on the ground,

When, lo, Amintas passed by, and he

Was too much chang’d from what he us’d to be,

1540

Too troubled, and too sad; I ran and staid

Him, though with much ado; he to me staid:

Ergasto I’d intreat a courtesie

Of thee, ʼtis this, to come along with me,

And be a witnesse of what I shal do,

1545

But this I shal requier first of you,

That by streight oath your firmest faith you bind

Neither to hinder nor oppose my mind;

I (for who could have thought so strange a case,

Or such mad fury?) let his will take place

1550

And did conjure, Pan, Pales, Priapus,

And all those gods are honour’d most by us;

He at my oaths went forward, and me led

There where the cliffy rock hangs o’re it’s head:

Road it was none, for there no path at all,

1555

But from the mount, a precipice doth fall

Into th’adjacent valley; here a stop

We made, when I with looking from the top,

Such was the height, so level to the ground,

That with a giddinesse my head turn’d round;

1560

I started back, he smil’d to see me start,

Which too much did assure my fearlesse heart.

Then to me said, Ergasto, I’d have thee

Recount to Nymphs and Pastors what thou’lt see,

So looking down began —

1565

Had I here ready to my will,

Thee teeth of rav’nous wolves to spill

My blood, I’d onely choose that death,

By which she di’d who was my breath:

They tear this body should of mine,

1570

As they did that fair corps of thine;

But since that heav’n is so unjust

As to deny, (though die I must)

My death desired, nor will send

Fierce beasts to help me to my end;

1575

I’l find a death, though not the due,

Shall end my life as soon as you.

Silvia I come, I come to thee,

Disdain not then my company;

Contentedly I shall endure

1580

The sharpest death, were I but sure

ʼTwould not again begin our strife,

Thy anger ceas’d were with thy life.

Threw himself down; I frozen stood like Ice.

DAPHNE

Wretched Aminta!

SILVIA

Ay poor me!

CHORUS

But why

1585

Some way to hinder him didst thou not try?

Perhaps thy promis’d oath did thee refrain.

ERGASTO

No; for, rejecting oaths in that case vain

When I discern’d his purpose, though too late,

I ran to stay him; such was his hard fate,

1590

But he went with such force it could not bear

His body’s weight, and so it did remain

Thus broken in my hands.

CHORUS

But what became

Of the unhappy corps?

ERGASTO

That know not I,

I had not heart enough to see it lie:

1595

(Pity and horror having fill’d the place)

CHORUS

O strange case!

SILVIA

If this newes kil’s not me, my heart’s of stone,

Or rather I believe that I have none;

Shall the false rumour of my death have such

Power o’re his life, whom I did hate so much?

1600

And shall not his true death, who life did leave

For love of me, me of my life bereave?

It shall: and if that griefe can’t do’t, a knife,

Or else this girdle shall command my life;

This girdle left behind, alone to be

1605

The just revenger of my cruelty;

Unhappy girdle of a Master farr

Unhappier, disdaine not that you are

Lodg’d in this justly to thee hatefull brest,

Since there thou as an instrument do’st rest

1610

Of that revenge, which is in justice due

To your so haplesse Master, and to you;

For since twas by my cruelty deni’d

Aminta should my confort here abide,

ʼTis just I should by work of thine be made

1615

His confort, in the sweet Elizian shade.

CHORUS

Comfort thy selfe poore wretch, thou fault hast none

In this, but fault of fortune ʼtis alone.

SILVIA

Shepherds, weep not for me, your tears you loose,

Those pity don’t deserve, who none did use,

1620

Or if we weep, his losse ye weep in vain,

Since that deserves a far more dolefull streine;

And thou too, Daphne, dry those teares of thine,

If from no other cause they come than mine;

This I’d intreat thee do, not for my sake,

1625

But for his worthy was, the pains to take,

To go with me to see those wretched bones,

I feare me, crush’d among the rocks and stones,

And helpe to bury them, and when that I

Have perform’d this, what should I do but dy?

1630

This office I’l repay him, since no more,

I can, for that great love which he me bore;

And though these hands of mine contaminate

Will this good work: yet since pernicious fate

Permits me only to do this; I know

1635

It will be deare to him, he lov’d me so.

DAPHNE

Who would their help to such a work deny?

But afterwards thou must not think to dy.

SILVIA

Till now I liv’d, have to my selfe alone,

And to my cruelty, what rests, to none

1640

I’l live but to Aminta: and if fade,

My hopes do there, I’l live to his cold shade,

So long I’l live, till in one point can I

Finish his saddest obsequies, and dy;

Shepherd direct me, that I may not faile

1645

To find the way which leads unto the vale;

Where ends the cursed precipice.

ERGASTO

You are

Just in the way, nor it is very far.

DAPHNE

Come, I’l go with thee, thou my foot steps trace,

And I’l thee lead directly to the place.

SILVIA

1650

Then Shepherds, Nimphs, Meadows, and Plaines adieu;

Woods, Rivers, Fountains, all farewell to you.

ERGASTO

Alas! she takes her leave with sighs so sore,

As if she were resolv’d to turn no more.

CHORUS

What death must yeeld, that love retains,

1655

Thou peace’s friend, he wars unkind,

Ever his triumphs, vaunts and reignes;

And whil’st thoudo’st twofair souls bind;

Thou rendr’st earth so like the heavenly sphear,

That thou thy selfe deign’st to inhabit here;

1660

There is no anger there above

And thou hast mortal brest inclin’d

By thy divinest art of love;

To put all hatred out of mind;

And with a pow’r exceeding earthly Kings

1665

Thou here below dost govern mortall things.

Act V

Scen. 1.

Elpino Chore of Shepherds.

ELPINO

In truth, the divine law by which love sway’s

His sacred Empire is not hard nor stray’s

In oblique paths, sage providence the guide

Is of his workers, and all his actions glide

1670

In deepest mysteries, see by what art

By what strange uncouth meanes he leads a heart

To happinesse! and when man thinks that he

Is now arriv’d at th’depth of misery

And wretchednesse, why then the winged boy

1675

Transports him to the paradise of joy.

Behold Aminta, by this fall ascends

To his long with’d-for, and desired ends;

Happy Aminta, happy so much more,

By how much more mis’rable thou before;

1680

By thy example why should I despaire,

But rather hope that cruell one, though faire,

My wounded heart, and may true pity have

Who under smiles of pity doth conceale

Her mortall rigor, now at length may heale

1685

To cure that wound, her feigned pity gave.

CHORUS

See how the sage Elpino yonder walkes,

And to himselfe of poor Aminta talkes,

As though he living were; he fortunate

And happy calls him, O the sad estate

1690

Of lovers! in his judgement so misled,

To call those happy, who find pity dead?

Is this the paradise of joy? is this

His wish’d contentment, his desired blisse?

Is this the great reward, the greatest ease

1695

Love gives his servants? can this so much please?

Can this suffice? Elpino, is so bad,

Thy luck, that thou stil’st fortunate the sad

Death of Aminta? such an end do’st crave?

ELPINO

No Shepherds, no; but let your sorrows have

1700

An end; false the report is, he was dead.

CHORUS

O! how much comfort hath this good newʼs bred?

Did he not then himselfe precipitate?

ELPINO

He did, but his more than thrice blessed fate

Under deaths dolefull image did him give

1705

Both life and joy: shepherds, he still doth live,

And lives content; for now his head doth rest

On his deare Nymphs so much desired breast;

She whom before, nor tears, nor sighs could move

To pity him, is now as full of love,

1710

Is now as mercifull; and from his eyʼs

With her own mouth his teares of joy she dryʼs.

I go to seek her father, old Montane,

And to conduct him unto yonder plaine

Where they two be, for nothing to the fill

1715

Of their content there wants, but his good will.

CHORUS

Equal their birth is, equal are their years

Their wills agree, and good Montane, who bears

Defiers to have nephews, and to fence,

His drooping age with such a sweet defence,

1720

Will make his will be theirs; but dear Elpine

Relate to us what fate, what god divine

Could of our poor Aminta such care have

As might in that fame despʼrate fall him save.

ELPINO

I am content to tell it, and no man

1725

I’m sure can tell it better then I can.

Just at the entrance of my cave stood I,

Which you know well at the hils foot doth lie;

I reasoning was of her, who in a net

First Thirsis caught, and after me, and yet

1730

I did my thraldom far prefer above

His life of freedom, or his flight from love,

When a strange voice our ears and ey’s did call

Up to the top, from whence to see one fall,

And see him on a bush of briers light,

1735

Which stood in the mid-way, was all one sight;

Nature had planted on the mountain’s side

A sett of thornes, so thick, that they seem’d ti’d,

Or wove together, here at first he fell,

Which, though ʼtwas like a net, yet could not well

1740

His bodi’s weight susteine, but let him go

Quite through, that at our feet he fell; yet so

Much of the force and shock it took away,

That ʼtwas not mortall, only there he lay

Astonished, and void of sence. Amaz’d

1745

We at the sad chance stood, but when we gaz’d

More neerly on, and knew him, then our trouble,

Our sorrow, and our anguish did redouble;

But to our griefe it was some small reprieve

That he was not quite dead, perhaps might live;

1750

Then Thirsis t’ me the secrets did discover

Of his disconsolate and desp’rate lover

We knowing ʼtwas in vain him to lament

Bethought a remedy; and while we sent

For learned Esculapius, whom Apollo

1755

Taught, Physicks art when he him us’d to follow:

At the same time he did on me bestow

The skil to tune a harp, and bend a bow.

Silvia and Daphne thither seeking came

That body which they did believe was slain;

1760

When Silvia saw Aminta’s cheeks once fair

Now void of life, now grown so pallid were,

So wan that the bleak violet display’s

Not half that palenesse scorch’d by Phebus rayes:

She stupifi’d neer void of sense doth rest

1765

Lamenting, crying, beating her fair breast

She on him falls, to take her latest kisse,

And joyn’d his face to hers, her mouth to his.

CHORUS

Could she that was so coy, now not restrain

Her passion but extend the bounds of shame.

ELPINO

1770

Weak love is held by shame, but love grows bold

As strong, what is it then can it with-hold:

She as though in her ey’s she did contain

Fountains of tears, did with such plenty rain

Them on his cheeks, and they such vertue had,

1775

That it reviv’d again the breathlesse lad;

His ey’s he weakly opens, and he sends

From his afflicted soule a sigh, which ends

In his dear Silvia’s spirit, by her sweet

Mouth it was catch’t and seem’d with it to meet;

1780

Her Echo quite enliv’ned him, but who

Could now declare the joy possest these two;

Aminta thought ʼtwas more then heav’nly charms,

That thus enclasp’d him in his Silvia’s armes;

He that loves servant is, perhaps may guesse

1785

Their blisse; but none there is can it expresse.

CHORUS

And is Aminta fully cur’d canst tell?

No danger of his life?

ELPINE

He’s fully well:

ʼTis true he’s somewhat hat bruis’d, but nothing he

Do’s it account, and nothing it will be;

1790

Thrice happy he who did so fully prove

Love’s worst, and now doth tast the sweets of love;

His sufferings and his torments onely be

Sweet seasoning of his felicitie.

Shepherds farewel. For I must once again

1795

Make haste to find out the good old Montane.

CHORUS

Can that Martyrdom he prov’d,

While he serv’d, and while he lov’d,

While he hop’d, while de dispair’d,

While he sigh’d, and while he car’d,

1800

Ever recompensed be

Though with joy’s eternally?

What if sweet things sweeter more

Are when bitter go before?

What if good things better will

1805

Be, if savour’d with some ill?

Yet Love I pray give me the lesse

Not this greater blessednesse.

If thou wilt, blesse others so,

Who this full blisse crave to know:

1810

But let me my nymph enjoy,

For a word or for a toy,

Without sighs, and without care,

Without tears, without despair.

Let the season’ngs of our love,

1815

Such be as may onely move,

(Not such torments or such pain)

Sweet repulses, sweet disdain;

To which kind kisses may succeed,

To show our hearts are still agreed.

Torquato Tasso, L’ Aminta

Aminta. The famous Pastoral

Act I

PROLOGUE

Scen. I.

Scen. 2.

Act II

Scen. 1.

Scen. 2.

Scen. 3.

Act III

Scen. 1.

Scen. 2.

Act IV

Scen. 1.

Scen. 2.

Act V

Scen. 1.