Hymen's Triumph Daniel, Samuel This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A19829 of text S109268 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 6257). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Hannah Bredar This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A19829.xml Hymens triumph. A pastorall tragicomædie. Presented at the Queenes court in the Strand, at her Maiesties magnificent entertainement of the Kings most excellent Maiestie, being at the nuptials of the Lord Roxborough. By Samuel Daniel. Daniel, Samuel, 1562-1619. 41 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2003 January (TCP phase 1) 99844918 STC (2nd ed.) 6257. Greg, I, 325. 9774 A19829 2240875493

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 Hymens triumph. A pastorall tragicomædie. Presented at the Queenes court in the Strand, at her Maiesties magnificent entertainement of the Kings most excellent Maiestie, being at the nuptials of the Lord Roxborough. By Samuel Daniel. Daniel, Samuel, 1562-1619. [8], 72 p. Imprinted [by John Legat] for Francis Constable, and are to bee sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the white Lyon, London : 1615. 1615

In verse.

Printer's name from STC.

Variant: lacking the comma after "Strand" on the title page.

Reproduction of the original in the British Library.

 A19829 shc Hymen's Triumph Daniel, Samuel Hannah Bredar 1614 play tragicomedy shc no A19829 S109268 (STC 6257). 82 19150 0 0 0 1 0 0 0.53 B The rate of 0.53 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the B category of texts with fewer than 10 defects per 10,000 words. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago

HYMENS TRIVMPH .

A Pastorall Tragicomaedie .

Presented at the Queenes Court in the Strand at her Maiesties magnificent intertainement of the Kings most excellent Maiestie , being at the Nuptials of the Lord Roxborough .

By SAMVEL DANIEL .

LONDON

Imprinted for Francis Constable , and are to bee sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the white Lyon . 1615 .

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTIE OF THE HIGHEST-borne princess , ANNE of Denmark , Queene of England , Scotland , France and Ireland HEre , what your sacred influence begat ( Most lou'd , and most respected Maiestie ) With humble heart , and hand , I consecrate Vnto the glory of your memorie : As being a piece of that solemnitie , Which your Magnificence did celebrate In hallowing of those roofes ( you rear'd of late ) With fires and chearefull hospitalitie Whereby , and by your splendent Worthines Your name shal longer liue then shal your walles , For , that faire structure goodnesse finishes , Beares off all change of times , and neuer falles . And that is it hath let you in so farre Into the heart of England as you are . And worthily , for , neuer yet was Queene That more a peoples loue hath merited By all good graces , and by hauing been The meanes our State stands fast established And blest by your blest wombe , who are this day The highest borne Queene of Europe , and alone Haue brought this land more blessings euery way , Then all the daughters of strange Kings haue done . For , we by you no claimes , no quarrels haue , No factions , no betraying of affaires : You doe not spend our blood , nor states , but saue : You strength vs by alliance , and your haires . Not like those fatall marriages of France , For whom this kingdome hath so dearely paid , Which onely our afflictions did aduance : And brought vs farre more miseries , then aid . Renowned Denmark , that hast furnished The world with Princes , how much doe we owe To thee for this great good thou dist bestow , Whereby we are both blest , and honoured ? Thou didst not so much hurt vs heretofore But now thou hast rewarded vs farre more . But what doe I on this high subiect fall Here , in the front of this low Pastorall ? This a more graue , and spacious roome requires To shew your glorie , and my deepe desires . Your Maiesties most humble seruant SAMVEL DANIEL .
The Prologue . Hymen opposed by Auarice , Enuie , and Iealousie the disturbers of quiet marriage , first enters . Hym. IN this disguise and Pastorall attire , Without my saffron robe , without my torch , Or other ensignes of my duty : I Hymen am come hither secretly , To make Arcadia see a worke of glorie , That shall deserue an euerlasting storie . Here , shall I bring you two the most entire And constant louers that were euer seene , From out the greatest suffrings of anoy That fortune could inflict , to their full ioy : Wherein no wilde , no rude , no antique sport , But tender passions , motions soft , and graue , The still spectators mast expect to haue . For , these are onely Cynthias recreatiues Made vnto Phoebus , and are feminine ; And therefore must be gentle like to her , Whose sweet affections mildely mooue and stir . And here , with this white wand , will I effect As much , as with my flaming torch of Loue : And with the power thereof , affections mooue In these faire nymphes , and shepheards round about . Enuie . Stay Hymen , stay ; you shall not haue the day Of this great glorie , as you make account : We will herein , as we were euer wont , Oppose you in the matches you addresse , And vndermine them with disturbances . Hym. Now , doe thy worst , base Enuie , thou canst doe , Thou shalt not disappoint my purposes . Auarice . Then will I , Hymen , in despite of thee , I will make Parents crosse desires of loue , With those respects of wealth , as shall dissolue The strongest knots of kindest faithfulnesse . Hym. Hence , greedy Auarice ; I know thou art A hagge , that do'st bewitch the mindes of men : Yet shalt thou haue no powre at all herein . Iealousie . Then will I , Hymen , doe thou what thou canst ; I will steale closely into linked hearts ; And shake their veines with colde distrustfulnesse ; And euer keepe them waking in their feares , With spirits , which their imagination reares . Hym. Disquiet Iealousie , vile furie , thou That art the ougly monster of the minde , Auant , be gone , thou shalt haue nought to doe In this faire worke of ours , nor euermore Canst enter there , where honour keepes the doore . And therefore hideous furies , get you hence , This place is sacred to integritie , And cleane desires : your sight most loathsome is Vnto so well dispos'd a companie . Therefore be gone , I charge you by my powre , We must haue nothing in Arcadia , sowre . Enuie . Hymen , thou canst not chase vs so away , For , looke how long as thou mak'st marriages , So long will we produce incumbrances . And we will in the same disguise , as thou , Mixe vs among these shepheards , that we may Effect our worke the better , being vnknowne ; For , ills shew other faces then their owne .
The Speakers . Thyrsis . Palaemon , friend to Thyrsis . Clarindo , Siluia disguised , the beloued of Thyrsis , supposed to be slaine by wild beasts . Cloris , a Nymph whom Clarindo serued , and in loue with Thyrsis . Phillis , in loue with Clarindo . Montanus , in loue with Phillis . Lidia , Nurse to Phillis . Forresters . Dorcas . Siluanus . Medorus , father to Siluia . Charinus , father to Thyrsis . Chorus of Shepheards .
ACT. I. SCEN. I. Thirsis . Palaemon . SO to be reft of all the ioyes of life , How is it possible Palaemon , I Should euer more a thought retaine Of the least comfort vpon earth againe ? No , I would hate this heart , that hath receiu'd So deepe a wound , if it should euer come To be recur'd , or would permit a roome To let in any other thing then griefe . Pal. But Thirsis you must tel me what is the cause ? Thi. Think but what cause I haue ; when hauing pass'd The heates , the colds , the trembling agonies Of feares , and hopes , and all the strange assaults Of passion , that a tender heart could feele In the attempt , and pursuite of his loue . And then to be vndone , when all was done , To perish in the hauen , after all Those Ocean suffrings , and euen then to haue My hopefull Nuptiall bed , turn'd to a graue . Pal. Good Thirsis by what meanes , I pray thee tell Thi. Tell thee ? alas Palaemon , how can I tell And liue ? doest thou not see these fields haue lost Their glory , since that time Siluia was lost ? Siluia , that onely deckt , that onely made Arcadia shine ; Siluia who was ( ah woe the while ) So miserablie rent from off the world . So rapt away , as that no signe of her , No peece was left to tell vs by what meanes : Safe onely this poore remnant of her vaile , All torne , and this deere locke of her rent haire ; Which holy reliques here I keepe with me , The sad memorials of her dismall fate . Who sure deuoured was vpon the shore By ravenous beasts , as she was walking there Alone , it seemes ; perhaps in seeking me Or els retir'd to meditate apart The storie of our loues , and heauie smart . Pal. This is no newes , you tell , of Siluias death . That was long since : why shold you waile her now ? Thi. Long since Palaemon ? thinke you any length Of time can euer haue a powre to make A heart of flesh not mourne , not grieue , not pine ? That knows , that feels , that thinks as much as mine Pal. But Thirsis , you know how her father meant To match her with Alexis , and a day To celebrate the nuptials was prefixt . Thi. True , he had such a purpose , but in vaine , As oh it was best knowne vnto vs twaine . And hence it grew that gaue vs both our feares , That made our meeting stealth , our parting teares . Hence was it , that with many a secret wile , Wee rob'd our lookes th' onlookers to beguile This was the cause , oh miserable cause , That made her by her selfe to stray alone , Which els God knowes , she neuer shold haue done . For had our libertie as open beene , As was our loues , Siluia had not beene seene Without her Thirsis , neuer had we gone But hand in hand , nor euer had mischance Tooke vs asunder ; shee had alwaies had My bodie interpos'd betwixt all harmes And her . But ah we had our libertie Laid fast in prison when our loues were free . Pa. But how knowst thou her loue was such to thee ? Thi. How do I know the Sun , the day from night ? Pal. Womens affections doe like flashes proue , They oft shew passion when they feele small loue . Thir. Ah do not so prophane that precious sexe , Which I must euer reuerence for her sake , Who was the glorie of her kinde ; whose heart In all her actions so transparant was As I might see it cleere and wholly myne , Alwayes obseruing truth in one right line . How oft hath she bene vrg'd by fathers threats , By friends perswasions , and Alexis sighs , And teares and prayers , to admit his loue , Yet neuer could be wonne ? how oft haue I Beheld the brauest heardsmen of these plaines , ( As what braue heardsman was there in the plaines Of all Arcadia , that had not his heart Warm'd with her beames ) to seek to win her loue . Ah I remember well ( and how can I But euer more remember well ) when first Our flame began , when scarce we knew what was The flame we felt , when as we sate and sigh'd And lookd' vpon each other , and conceiu'd Not what we ayld , yet something we did ayle . And yet were well , and yet we were not well , And what was our disease we could not tell . Then would we kisse , then sigh , then looke : & thus In that first garden of our simplenesse Wee spent our childhood : but when yeeres began To reape the fruite of knowledge ; ah how then Wold she with grauer looks , with sweet stern brow , Check my presumption and my forwardnes , Yet still would giue me flowers , still would me shew What she would haue me , yet not haue me know . Pal. Alas with what poore Coyne are louers paid , And taken with the smallest bayte is laid ? Thi. And when in sports with other company , Of Nimphes and shepherds we haue met abroade How would she steale a looke : and watch mine eye Which way it went ? and when at Barley breake It came vnto my turne to rescue her , With what an earnest , swift , and nimble pace Would her affection make her feet to run And farther run then to my hand ? her race Had no stop but my bosome where to end . And when we were to breake againe , how late And loath her trembling hand wold part with mine , And with how slow a pace would shee set forth To meet th e'ncountring party , who contends T' attaine her , scarce affording him her fingers ends ? Pal. Fie Thirsis , with what fond remembrances Doest thou these idle passions entertaine ? For shame leaue off to waste your youth in vaine , And feede on shadowes : make your choice anew . You other Nimphes shall find , no doubt will be As louely , and as faire : and sweete as she . Thi. As faire and sweete as she ? Palaemon peace : Ah what can pictures be vnto the life , What sweetnes can be found in Images ? Which all Nimphes els besides her seemes to me . She onely was a reall creaturee , shee , Whose memory must take vp all of mee . Should I another loue , then must I haue , Another heart , for this is full of her , And euermore shall be : here is shee drawne At length , and whole , and more , this table is A storie , and is all of her ; and all Wrought in the liueliest colours of my bloud ; And can there be a roome for others heere ? Should I disfigure such a peece , and blot The perfectst workmanship loue euer wrought . Palaemon no , ah no , it cost too deere , It must remaine intire whilst life remaines , The monument of her and of my paines . Pal. Thou maiest be such a fond Idolater To die for loue ; though that were very strange . Loue hath few Saints , but many confessors . And time no doubt will raze out all these notes , And leaue a roome at length for other thoughts . Thi. Yes when there is no spring , no tree , no groue In all Arcadia to record our loue : And tell me where we were ( the time we were ) How we did meete together , what we said ; Where we did ioy , and where we sate dismai'd . And then I may forget her , not before . Till then I must remember one so deere , When euery thing I see tells me of her . And you deere Reliques of that martred Saint , My heart adores , you the perpetuall bookes Whereon when teares permit , mine eye still looks : Ah you were with her last , and till my last You must remaine with me ; you were reseru'd To tell me shee was lost , but yet alas , You cannot tell me how : I wold you could . White spotlesse vaile , cleane , like her womanhood , Which whilome coveredst the most louely face That euer eye beheld . Was there no message sent From her by thee ? Ah yes , there seemes it was ; Here is a T made with her blood , as if Shee would haue written , Thirsis , I am slaine In seeking thee ; sure so it should haue beene , And so I reade it , and shall euer so . And thou sweet remnant of the fairest haire , That euer wau'd with winde . Ah thee I found When her I hop'd to finde , wrapt in a round , Like to an O , the character of woe ; As if to say , O Thirsis , I die thine . This much you tell me yet , dumbe messengers , Of her last minde ; and what you cannot tell That I must thinke , which is the most extreame Of wofulnesse , that any heart can thinke . Pal. There is no dealing with this man , I see , This humour must be let to spend it selfe Vnto a lesser substance , ere that we Can any way apply a remedy . But I lament his case , and so I know Do all that see him in this wofull plight : And therefore will I leaue him to himselfe , For sorrow that is full , hates others sight . Thir. Come boy , whilst I contemplate these remaines Of my lost loue , vnder this myrtle tree , Record the dolefull'st song , the sighingst notes , That musicke hath to entertaine bad thoughts . Let it be all at flats my boy , all graue , The tone that best befits the griefe I haue . The Song . Had sorrow euer fitter place To act his part , Then is my heart , Where it takes vp all the space ? Where is no veine To entertaine A thought that weares another face . Nor will I sorrow euer haue , Therein to be , But onely thee , To whome I full possession gaue : Thou in thy name Must holde the same , Vntill thou bring it to the graue . So boy , now leaue me to my selfe , that I May be alone to griefe , entire to misery .
SCEN. II. Cloris . Clarindo . NOw gentle boy Clarindo , hast thou brought My flockes into the field ? Cla. Mistris I haue . Clo. And hast thou told them ? Cla. Yes . Clo. And are there all ? Cla. All . Clo. And hast thou left them safe my boy ? Cla. Safe . Clo. Then whilst they feede , Clarindo , I must vse Thy seruice in a serious businesse . But thou must do it well my boy . Cla. The best I can . Clo. Do'st thou know Thirsis ? Cla. Yes . Clo. But know'st him well ? Cla. I haue good reason to know Thirsis well . Clo. What reason boy ? Cla. I oft haue seene the man . Clo. Why then he knowes thee too ? Cla. Yes I suppose , vnles he hath forgotten me of late . Clo. But hath he heard thee sing my boy ? Cla. He hath . Clo. Then doubtles he doth well remember thee . Well , vnto him thou must a message do From thy sad mistres Cloris ; but thou must Doe it exactly well , with thy best grace , Best choice of language , and best countenance . I know thou canst doe well , and hast a speech And fashion pleasing to performe the same . Nor can I haue a fitter messenger In this imployment then thy selfe my boy . For sure me thinkes , noting thy forme and grace , That thou hast much of Siluia in thy face : Which if he shall perceiue as well as I , Sure , he will giue thee audience willinglie . And for her sake , if not for mine , heare out Thy message ; for he still ( though she be dead ) Holdes sparkles of her vnextinguished . And that is death to me : for though sometimes Silvia and I most deere companions were , Yet when I saw he did so much preferre Her before me , I deadly hated her ; And was not sorie for her death , and yet Was sorie shee should come to such a death . But to the purpose , goe to Thirsis , boy : Say , thou art Cloris seruant , sent to be The messenger of her distressed teares : Who languishes for him and neuer shall Haue comfort more , vnlesse he giue it her . Cla. I will . Clo. Nay but stay boy , ther 's something else . Tell him , his cruelty makes me vndoe My modesty , and to put on that part Which appertaines to him , that is to wooe : And to disgrace my Sexe , to shew my heart , Which no man else could haue had powre to doe . And that vnlesse he doe restore me backe Vnto my selfe , by his like loue to me , I cannot liue . Cla. All this I 'le tell him too . Clo. Nay but stay boy , there is yet more : Tell him , it will no honour be to him , When euer it shall come to be made knowne , That he hath beene her death that was his owne . And how his loue hath fatall beene to two Distressed nymphes . Cla. This will I tell him too . Clo. Nay but stay boy , wilt thou say nothing else , As of thy selfe , to waken vp his loue ? Thou mayst say something which I may not say , And tell him how thou holdst me full as faire , Yea and more faire , more louely , more compleate Then euer Siluia was . More wise , more stai'd , How shee was but a light and wauering maid . Cla. Nay there I leaue you , that I cannot say . Clo. What sayst thou boy ? Cla. Nothing , but that I will Endeauour all I can to worke his loue . Clo. Doe good my boy : but thou must yet adde more , As from thy selfe , & say , what an vnkinde And barbarous part it is to suffer thus So beauteous and so rare a nymph to pine And perish for his loue ; and such a one , As if shee would haue stoop'd to others flame , Hath had the gallantst heardsmen of these fields Fall at her feete : all which she hath despis'd , Hauing her heart before by thee surpriz'd . And now doth nothing else , but sit and mourne : Speake Thirsis , weepe Thirsis , sigh Thirsis , and Sleepe Thirsis when she sleepes , which is but rare Besides , good boy thou must not sticke to sweare , Thou oft hast seene me sowne , & sinke to ground In these deep passions , wherein I abound . For something thou maist say beyond the truth , By reason of my loue , and of thy youth . Doe , good Clarindo sweare , and vow thus much . But do'st thou now remember all I say , Do'st thou forget no parcell of my speech , Shall I repeate the same againe to thee ? Or els wilt thou rehearse it vnto mee ? That I may know thou hast it perfect , boy . Cla. It shall not need : be sure I will report , What you enioyne me , in most earnest sort . Clo. Ah doe good boy . Although I feare it will , Availe me little : for I doubt his heart Is repossessed with another loue . Cla. Another loue ? Who may that be , I pray ? Clo. With Amarillis , I haue heard : for they Are thought , will in the end make vp a match . Cla. With Amarillis ? Well , yet will I goe , And try his humour whether it be so ? Clo. Goe good Clarindo , but thou must not faile To worke effectually for my auaile . And doe not stay , returne with speed good boy , My passions are to great t' indure delay .
ACT. I. SCEN. III . Clarindo sol . THirsis in loue with Amarillis ? then In what a case am I ? what doth availe , This altred habite , that belies my Sexe ? What boots it t' haue escap'd from pirats hands And with such wiles to haue deceiu'd their wills , If I returne to fall on worser ills ? In loue with Amarillis ? is that so ? Is Siluia then forgot ? that hath endur'd So much for him ? doe all these miseries ( Caus'd by his meanes ) deserue no better hire ? Was it the greatest comfort of my life , To haue return'd that I might comfort him ? And am I welcom'd thus ? ah did mine eies Take neuer rest , after I was arriu'd Till I had seene him , though vnknowne to him ? Being hidden thus , and couer'd with disguise And masculine attire , to temporize Vntill Alexis mariage day be past , Which shortly as I heare will be : and which Would free me wholly from my fathers feare : Who if he knew I were return'd , would yet Vndoe I doubt that match , to match me there . Which would be more then all my suffrings were . Indeed me thought when I beheld the face Of my deere Thirsis , I beheld a face Confounded all with passion , which did much Afflict my hart : but yet I litle thought It could haue beene for any others loue . I did suppose the memorie of me , And of my rapture , had possest him so , As made him shew that countenance of woe . And much adoe had I then to forbeare From casting me into his armes , and yeild What comfort my poore selfe could yeild , but that I thought our ioyes would not haue bin complete , But might haue yeilded vs anoyes as great , Vnlesse I could come wholly his , and cleer'd From all those former dangers which we fear'd : Which now a little stay ( though any stay Be death to me ) would wholly take away . And therefore I resolu'd my selfe to beare This burthen of our sufferings yet a while , And to become a seruant in this guise , To her I would haue skorned otherwise : And be at all commands , to goe , and come , To trudge into the fields , early , and late . Which though I know , it misbecomes my state : Yet it becomes my fortune , which is that , Not Phillis whom I serue : but since I serue , I will doe what I doe most faithfully . But Thirsis , is it possible that thou Shouldst so forget me , and forgo thy vowe ; Or is it but a flying vaine report , That slanders thine affection in this sort ? It may be so , and God grant it may be so : I shall soone finde if thou be false or no : But ah here comes my Fury , I must flie .
ACT. I. SCEN. IIII . Phillis . Clarindo . Ah cruell youth , whither away so fast ? Cla. Good Phillis do not stay me , I haue haste . Phi. What haste shouldst thou haue but to comfort me , Who hath no other comfort but in thee ? Cla. Alas thou do'st but trouble me in vaine , I cannot helpe thee : t' is not in my powre . Phi. Not in thy powre Clarindo ? ah if thou Hadst any thing of manlines , thou would'st . Cla. But if I haue not , what doth it auaile In this sort to torment thy selfe and me ? And therefore pre thee Phillis let me goe . Phi. Ah whither canst thou go , where thou shalt be More deerely lou'd and cherisht then with me ? Cla. But that my purpose cannot satisfie , I must be gone , there is no remedie . Phi. O cruell youth , will thy hart nothing moue ? Shew me yet pitie , if thou shew not loue . Cla. Beleeue me Phillis I do pitie thee ; And more , lament thy error , so farewell . Phi. And art thou gone hard-hearted youth ? hast thou Thus disappointed my desires , and left My shame t' afflict me worser then my loue ? Now in what case am I , that neither can Recall my modestie , nor thee againe ? Ah were it now to do againe , my passions should Haue smothred me to death , before I would Haue shew'd the smallest sparkle of my flame . But it is done , and I am now vndone . Ah hadst thou bene a man , and had that part Of vnderstanding of a womans hart , My words had bene vnborne , onely mine eies Had bene a tongue ynough to one were wise . But this it is , to loue a boy , whose yeares Conceiues not his owne good , nor weighes my teares : But this disgrace I iustly haue deseru'd
SCEN. V. Lidia . Phillis . SO Phillis haue you , and y' are rightly seru'd . Haue you disdain'd the gallanst Forresters , And brauest heardsmen all Arcadia hath , And now in loue with one is not a man ? Assure your selfe this is a iust reuenge Loue takes , for your misprision of his powre . I told you often there would come a time , When you would sure be plagu'd for such a crime : But you would laugh at me , as one you thought Conceiu'd not of what mettall you were wrought . Is this you , who would wonder any nymphes Could euer be so foolish as to loue ? Who is so foolish now ? Phil. Peace Lidia , peace , Adde not more griefe t' a hart that hath too much , Do not insult vpon her misery , Whose flame , God wot , needs water , and not oyle . Thou seest I am vndone , caught in the Toyle Of an intangling mischiefe : tell me how I may recouer , and vnwinde me now . Lid. That doth require more time , we will apart Consult thereof , be you but rul'd by me , And you shall finde , I , yet , will set you free . Exeunt .
The song of the first Chorus . Loue is a sicknesse full of woes , All remedies refusing : A plant that with most cutting growes , Most barren with best vsing . Why so ? More we enioy it , more it dyes , If not enioy'd , it sighing cries , Hey ho . Loue is a torment of the minde , A tempest euerlasting ; And Ioue hath made it of a kinde , Not well , nor full nor fasting . Why so ? More we enioy it , more it dies , If not enioyd , it sighing cries , Hey ho .
ACT. II. SCEN. I. Siluanus . Dorcas . Montanus . IN what a meane regard are we now held , We actiue and laborious forresters ? Who though our liuing rurall be and rough , Yet heretofore were we for valour priz'd , And well esteem'd in all good companies : Nor would the daintiest nymphes that valleyes haunt Or fields inhabite , euer haue despis'd Our siluane songs , nor yet our plaine discourse ; But gracefully accepted of our skill , And often of our loues , when they haue seene How faithfull and how constant we haue beene . Dor. It 's true Siluanus , but you see the times Are altred now , and they so dainty growne , By being ador'd , and woo'd , and followed so Of those vnsinowed amorous heardsmen , who By reason of their rich and mighty flockes , Supply their pleasures with that plenteousnesse , As they disdaine our plainnesse , and do scorne Our company , as men rude and ill borne . Sil. Well , so they doe ; but Dorcas if you marke How oft they doe miscarie in their loue , Aud how disloyall these fine heardsmen prooue ; You shall perceiue how their aboundant store Payes not their expectation , nor desires . Witnesse these groues wherein they oft deplore The miserable passions they sustaine : And how perfidious , wayward , and vnkinde , They finde their loues to be ; which we , who are The eyes , and eares of woods , oft see and heare . For hither to these groues they much resort , And here one wayles apart the vsage hard Of her disordred , wilde , and wilfull mate : There mournes another her vnhappy state , Held euer in restraint , and in suspect : Another to her trusty confident , Laments how shee is matcht to such a one As cannot giue a woman her content . Another grieues how shee hath got a foole , Whose bed although shee loath , shee must endure . And thus they all vnhappy by that meanes Which they accompt would bring all happinesse ; Most wealthely are plagu'd , with rich distresse . Dor. And so they are , but yet this was not wont To be the fashion here ; there was a time Before Arcadia came to be diseas'd With thes corrupted humors reigning now , That choise was made of vertue and desert , Without respect of any other endes : When loue was onely master of their hearts , And rul'd alone : when simple thoughts produc'd Plaine honest deedes , and euery one contends To haue his fame to follow his deserts , And not his shewes ; to be the same he was , Not seem'd to be : and then were no such parts Of false deceiuings plaid , as now we see . But after that accursed greedinesse Of wealth began to enter and possesse The hearts of men , integrity was lost , And with it they themselues , for neuer more ; Came they to be in their owne powre againe . That Tyrant vanquisht them , made them all slaues , That brought base seruitude into the world , Which else had neuer bin ; that only made Them to endure all whatsoeuer weights Powre could deuise to lay vpon their necke . For rather than they would not haue , they would not be But miserable . So that no deuice Needes else to keepe them vnder , they themselues Will beare farre more then they are made , themselues Will adde vnto their fetters , rather then They would not be , or held to be great men . Sil. Then Dorcas , how much more are we to prize Our meane estate , which they so much despise ? Considering that we doe enioy thereby , The dearest thing in nature , Liberty . And are not tortur'd with those hopes and feares , Th' affliction laid on superfluities , Which make them to obscure , and serue the times : But are content with what the earth , the woods And riuers neere doe readily afforde And therewithall furnish our homly borde . Those vnbought cates please our vnlearned throats That vnderstand not dainties , euen as well As all their delicates , which doe but stuffe And not sustaine the stomacke : and indeede A well obseruing belly doth make much For libertie ; for he that can but liue , Although with rootes , and haue no hopes , is free Without the verge of any sov'raintie . And is a Lord at home , commands the day As his till night , and then reposes him At his owne houres . thinkes on no stratagem But how to take his game , hath no deseigne To crosse next day : no plots to vndermine . Dor. But why Montanus doe you looke so sad ? What is the cause your minde is not as free As your estate ? what , haue you had of late Some coy repulse of your disdainfull nymph , To whome loue hath subdu'd you ? who indeede Our only master is , and no Lord else But he , hath any power to vexe vs here ; Which had he not , we too too happy were . Mon. In troth I must confesse , when now you two Found me in yonder thicket , I had lost My selfe , by hauing seene that which I would I had not had these eyes to see ; and iudge If I great reason haue not to complaine : You see I am a man , though not so gay And delicately clad , as are your fine And amorous dainty heardsmen ; yet a man , And that not base , not vn-allyde to Pan ; And of a spirit doth not degenerate From my robustious manly ancestours , Being neuer foild in any wrastling game , But still haue borne away the chiefest prize In euery braue and actiue exercise . Yet notwithstanding that disdainfull maid , Prowd Phillis , doth despise me and my loue , And will not daigne so much as here me speake , But doth abiure , forsooth , the thought of loue . Yet shall I tell you ( yet asham'd to tell ; ) This coy vnlouing soule , I saw ere while Soliciting a youth , a smooth fac'd boy , Whom in her armes shee held ( as seem'd to me , Being closely busht a prety distance off , ) Against his will ; and with strange passion vrg'd His stay , who seem'd , struggled to get away , And yet shee staid him , yet intreats his stay . At which strange sight , imagine I that stood Spectatour , how confoundedly I stood , And hardly could forbeare from running in To claime for mine , if euer loue had right , Those her imbraces cast away in sight : But staying to behold the end , I staid Too long ; the boy gets loose , her selfe retyres , And you came in ; but if I liue , that boy Shall dearely pay for his misfortune , that He was beloued of her , of whom I would Haue none on earth beloued , but my selfe . Dor. That were to bite the stone , a thing vniust , To punish him for her conceiued lust . Mon. Tush , many in this world we see are caught , And suffer for misfortune , not their fault . Sil. But that would not become your manlines , Montanus , it were shame for valiant men To doe vnworthily . Mon. Speake not of that , Siluanus , if my rage Irregular be made , it must worke like effects . Dor. These are but billowes , tumbling after storms , They last not long , come let some exercise Diuert that humour , and conuert your thoughts To know your selfe ; scorne her who scorneth you ; Idolatrize not so that Sexe , but hold A man of strawe , more then a wife of gold . Exeunt .
ACT. II. SCEN. II. Lidia . Phillis . YOu must not , Phillis , be so sensible Of these small touches which your passion makes . Phi. Small touches Lidia , do you count the small ? Can there vnto a woman worse befall Then hath to mee ? what ? haue not I lost all That is most deare to vs , loue and my fame ? Is there a third thing Lidia you can name That is so precious as to match with these ? Lid. Now sily girle , how fondly doe you talke ? How haue you lost your fame ; what for a few Ill-fauour'd louing words , vttred in ieast Vnto a foolish youth ? Cannot you say You did but to make triall how you could , If such a peeuish qualme of passion should ( As neuer shall ) oppresse your tender heart , Frame your conceit to speake , to looke , to sigh Like to a heart-strooke louer ; and that you Perceiuing him to be a bashfull youth , Thought to put spirit in him , and make you sport . Phi. Ah Lidia , but he saw I did not sport , He saw my teares , and more , what shall I say ? He saw too much , and that which neuer man Shall euer see againe whil'st I haue breath . Lid. Are you so simple as you make your selfe ? What did he see ? a counterfeited shew Of passion , which you may , if you were wise , Make him as easily to vnbeleeue , As what he neuer saw ; and thinke his eyes Conspir'd his vnderstanding to deceiue . How many women , thinke you , being espide In neerer-touching cases by mischance , Haue yet not onely fac'd their louers downe For what they saw , but brought them to beleeue They had not seene the thing which they had seen , Yea and to sweare it too ; and to condemne Themselues ? such meanes can wit deuise To make mens mindes vncredit their owne eyes . And therefore let not such a toy as this Disease your thoughts : and for your losse of loue , It is as much as nothing . I would turne A passion vpon that should ouerturne It cleane , and that is wrath ; one heate Expels another . I would make my thoughts of skorne To be in height so much aboue my loue , As they should ease and please me more by farre . I would disdaine to cast a looke that way Where he should stand , vnlesse it were in skorne , Or thinke a thought of him , but how to worke Him all disgrace that possibly I could . Phi. That Lidia can I neuer doe , let him Do what he will to me : report my shame , And vaunt his fortune , and my weaknesse blame . Lid. Nay as for that he shall be so well charmd Ere I haue done , as you shall feare no tales . Phi. Ah Lidia , could that he without his harme , How blessed should I be ? But see where comes My great tormentour , hat rude Forrester . Good Lidia let vs flie , I hate his sight Next to the ill I suffer : let vs flie , We shall be troubled with him wofully . Lid. Content you Phillis , stay & heare him speake : We may make vse of him more then you thinke . Phil. What vse can of so grosse a peece be made ? Lid. The better vse be sure , for beeing grosse , Your subtler spirits full of their finesses , Serue their owne turnes in others businesses .
ACT. II. SCEN. III . Montanus . Lidia . Phillis . What pleasure can I take to chase wild beasts , When I my selfe am chac'd more egarly By mine owne passions , and can finde no rest ? Let them who haue their heart at libertie , Attend those sports . I cannot be from hence , Where I receiu'd my hurt , here must I tread The maze of my perplexed miserie . And here see where shee is the cause of all ? And now , what shall I doe ? what shall I say ? How shall I looke ? how stand ? which vtter first ? My loue or wrath ? Alas I know not which . Now were it not as good haue beene away , As thus to come , and not tell what to say ? Phil. See Lidia see , how sauagely hee lookes , Good let vs goe , I neuer shall endure To heare him bellow . Lid. Prethee Phillis stay And giue him yet the hearing , in respect Hee loues you , otherwise you shew your selfe A sauage more then hee . Phil. Well , it I heare , I will not answere him a word , you shall reply , And prethee Lidia doe , reply for mee . Lid. For that wee shall , Phillis , doe well enough When he begins , who seemes is very long To giue the onset , sure the man is much Perplexed , or he studies what to say . Phil. Good Lidia see how he hath trickt himselfe , Now sure this gay fresh suite as seemes to mee Hangs like green Iuy on a rotten tree . Lid. Some beasts doe weare gray beards beside your goates : And bear with him , this suit bewraies yong thoghts Mon. Ah was it not enough to be opprest With that confounding passion of my loue And her disdaine , but that I must be torne With wrath and enuie too , and haue no veine Free from the racke of suffrings , that I can Nor speake nor thinke but most distractedly ? How shall I now begin , that haue no way To let out any passion by it selfe , But that they all will thrust together so As none will be expressed as they ought ? But something I must say now I am here . And be it what it will , loue , enuie wrath , Or all together in a comberment , My words must be like me , perplext and rent , And so I 'le to her . Phi. Lidia , see he comes . Lid. He comes indeed , and as me thinkes doth More trouble in his face by farre , then loue . Mon. Faire Phillis , and too faire for such a one , shew Vnlesse you kinder were , or better then I know you are : how much I haue endur'd For you , although you skorne to know , I feele , And did imagine , that in being a man Who might deserue regard , I should haue bin Prefer'd before a boy . But well , I see Your seeming and your being disagree . Phi. What Lidia , doth he brawle ? what meanes he thus To speake and looke in this strange sort on me ? Mon. Well modest Phillis , neuer looke so coy , These eyes beheld you dallying with a boy . Phi. Me with a boy , Montanus ? when ? where ? how ? Mon. To day , here , in most lasciuious sort . Lid. Ah , ha , belike he sawe you Phillis , when This morning you did striue with Cloris boy To haue your garland , which he snatcht away , And kept it from you by strong force and might : And you againe laid hold vpon the same , And held it fast vntill with much adoe He wrung it from your hands , and got away . And this is that great matter which he saw . Now fye Montanus fye , are you so grosse , T' imagine such a worthy nymph as shee Would be in love with such a youth as he ? Why now you hauc vndone your credit quite , You neuer can make her amends for this So impious a surmise , nor euer can Shee , as shee reason hath , but must despise your grossenesse ; who should rather haue come in And righted her , then suffer such a one To offer an indignity so vile , And you stand prying in a bush the while . Mon. What do I heare ? what , am I not my selfe ? How ? haue mine eyes double vndone me then ? First seeing Phillis face , and now her fact , Or else the fact I saw , I did not see ? And since thou hast my vnderstanding wrong'd , And traytour-like giuen false intelligence , Whereby my iudgement comes to passe amisse . And yet I thinke my sence was in the right : And yet in this amaze I cannot tell , But howsoere , I in an errour am , In louing , or beleeuing , or in both . And therefore Phillis , at thy feet I fall , And pardon craue for this my grosse surmise . Lid. But this , Montanus , will not now suffise . You quite haue lost her , and your hopes and all . Mon. Good Lidia yet intreate her to relent , And let her but command me any thing That is within the power of man to do , And you shall finde Montanus will performe More then a Gyant , and will stead her more Then all the heardsmen in Arcadia can . Lia. Shee will command you nothing ; but I wish You would a little terrifie that boy As he may neuer dare to vse her name But in all reuerence as is fit for her . But doe not you examine him a word ; For that were neither for your dignity , Nor hers , that such a boy as he should stand And iustifie himselfe in such a case , Who would but faine vntruths vnto your face . And herein you some seruice shall performe , As may perhaps make her to thinke on you . Mon. Alas , this is a worke so farre , so low Beneath my worth , as I account it none , Were it t' incounter some fierce mountaine beast Or monster , it were something fitting mee . But yet this will I doe , and doe it home , Assure you Lidia : as I liue I will . Phi. But yet I would not haue you hurt the youth , For that were neither grace for you nor mee . Mon. That as my rage will tollerate must be .
ACT. II. SCEN. IV. Cloris . Clarindo . HEere comes my long expected messenger , God grant the newes hee brings may make amends For his long stay ; and sure , I hope it will . Me thinkes his face bewraies more iollytie In his returning then in going hence . Cla. Well , all is wel ; no Amarillis hath Supplanted Siluias love in Thirsis heart , Nor any shall : but see where Cloris lookes For what I shall not bring her at this time . Clo. Clarindo though my longing would be faine Dispatch'd at once , & heare my doome pronounc'd All in a word of either life or death , Yet doe not tell it but by circumstance . Tell me the manner where , and how thou foundst My Thirsis , what he said , how look'd , how far'd , How he receau'd my message , vsed thee ; And all in briefe , but yet be sure tell all . Cla. All will I tell as neere as I can tell . First after teadious searching vp and downe , I found him all alone , like a hurt Deare , Got vnder couer in a shadie groue , Hard by a little christall purling spring , Which but one sullen note of murmur held ; And where no sunne could see him , where no eye Might ouerlooke his louely primacy . There in a path of his owne making , trode Bare as a common way , yet led no way Beyond the turnes he made ( which were but short ) With armes acrosse , his hat downe on his eyes ( As if those shades yeelded not shade ynough , To darken them ) he walkes with often stops , Vneuen pace , like motions to his thoughts . And when he heard me comming , for his eares Were quicker watches then his eyes , it seem'd ; He suddenly lookes vp , staies suddenly , And with a brow that told how much the sight Of any interrupter troubled him , Beheld me , without speaking any word , As if expecting what I had to say . I finding him in this confus'd dismay , ( Who heretofore had seene him otherwise : I must confesse , ( for tell you all I must , ) A trembling passion ouerwhelmd my breast , So that I likewise stood confus'd and dumbe , And onely lookt on him , as he on me . In this strange posture like two statues we Remaind a while ; but with this difference set : He blusht , and I look'd pale ; my face did shew Ioy to see him , his trouble to be seene . At length bethinking me for what I came , What part I had to act , I rowzd my spirits , And set my selfe to speake ; although I wisht He would haue first begun ; and yet before A word would issue , twice I bowd my knee , Twice kist my hand ; my action so much was More ready then my tongue : at last I told Whose messenger I was , and how I came To intimate the sadde distressed case Of an afflicted nymph , whose onely helpe Remaind in him : he when he heard the name of Cloris , turnes away his head , and shrinkes , As if he grieued that you should grieue for him . Clo. No , no , it troubled him to heare my name , Which he despises , is he so pervers And way ward still ? ah then I see no hope . Clarindo , would to God thou hadst not gone , I could be , but as now , I am vndone . Cla. Haue patience Mistres , & but heare the rest . When I perceiu'd his suffring , with the touch And sodaine stop it gauc him , presently I layd on all the waights that motion might Procure , and him besought , adjur'd , invok'd , By all the rights of Nature , pietie , And manlines , to heare my message out . Told him how much the matter did import Your safetie and his fame . How hee was bound In all humanity to right the same . Clo. That was well done my boy , what said he then ? Cla. Hee turnes about , and fixt his eyes on mee , Content to giue his eares a quiet leaue , To heare me . when I faild not to relate All what I had in charge , and all he heares , And lookes directly on me all the while . Clo. I doubt he noted thee more then thy words , But now Clarindo , what was his reply ? Cla. Thus . Tel faire Cloris , my good boy , how that I am not so disnatured a man , Or so ill borne , to disesteeme her loue , Or not to grieue , ( as I protest I doe ) That shee should so afflict her selfe for mee . But . Clo. Ah now comes that bitter word of But Which makes all nothing , that was said before . That smoothes & wounds , that stroakes and dashes more Then flat denyals , or a plaine disgrace . But tell me yet what followed on that But ? Cla. Tell her ( said hee ) that I desire shee would Redeeme her selfe at any price shee could , And neuer let her thinke on mee , who am But euen the barke , and outside of a man , That trades not with the liuing , neither can Nor euer will keepe other company . Then with the dead . My Siluias memory Is all that I must euer liue withall . With that his teares , which likewise forced mine , Set me againe vpon another racke Of passion so , that of my selfe I sought To comfort him the best I could deuise . And I besought him that he would not be Transported thus . But know that with the dead He should no more conuerse : and how his loue Was liuing , that would giue him all content , And was all his intire , and pure , and wisht To liue no longer then shee should be so . When more I would haue said , he shooke his head And wild me speake no further at that time , But leaue him to himselfe , and to returne Againe anone , and he would tell me more ; Commending me for hauing done the part Both of a true and mouing messenger . And so I tooke my leaue , and came my way . Clo. Returne againe ? no , to what end , If hee be so conceited , and so fond To intertaine a shadow ; I haue done , And wish , that I had neuer done so much . Shall I descend below my selfe , to send To one is not himselfe ? Let him alone With his dead image : you shall goe no more Haue I here fram'd with all the art I could This garland deckt with all the various flowres , Arcadia yeelds , in hope he would send backe Some cofort , that I might therwith haue crown'd His loue , and witness'd mine , in th' endles round Of this faire ring , the Character of faith ? But now he shall haue none of it , I rather will Rend it in peeces , and dishatter all Into a Chaos , like his formeles thoughts . But yet thou saist he wild thee to returne , And he would tell thee more . Cla. Yes so he saide . Clo. Perhaps thy words might yet so worke with him As that hee takes this time to thinke on them , And then I should doe wrong to keepe thee backe . Well thou shalt goe , and carry him from mee This garland , worke it what effect it will . But yet I know it will doe nothing . Stay Thou shalt not goe , for sure hee said but that To put thee off , that he might be alone At his idolatrie , in worshipping A nothing , but his selfe made images . But yet he may be wearied with those thoughts As hauing worne them long , and end they must : And this my message comming in fit time , And moouingly deliuered , may take hold : He said thou wert a moouing messenger Clarindo , did he not ? Cla. Yes so he said . Clo. Well , thou shalt goe ; and yet if any thought Of me should mooue him , he knowes wel my mind ( if not too well ) and where he may me finde . Thou shalt not goe Clarindo , nor will I Disgrace me more with importunity : And yet if such a motion should take fire , And finde no matter ready , it would out , And opportunities must not be slackt Clarindo , thou shalt goe , and as thou goest , Looke to my flocke , and so God speed thee well .
SCEN. V. Clarindo , alias Siluia sol . WEll , this imployment makes for my auaile , For hereby haue I meanes to see my loue ; Who likewise sees me , though he sees me not ; Nor doe I see him as I would I did . But I must by some meanes or other make Him know I liue ; and yet not so as he May know that I am I , for feare we might Miscary in our ioyes by ouer haste . But it is more then time his suffrings were Releeu'd in some close sort ; and that can I deuise No way to doe , but by relating how I heard of an escape a nymph did make From pirats lately , and was safe return'd . And so to tell some storie that containes Our fortunes and our loues , in other names ; And wish him to expect the like euent ; For I perceiue him very well content To heare me speake ; and sure he hath some note , Although so darkly drawne , as that his eyes Cannot expresly reade it ; yet it showes Him somthing , which he rather feels , then knowes .
The song of the second Chorus . Desire that is of things vngot , See what trauaile it procureth , And how much the minde endureth , To gaine what yet it gaineth not : For neuer was it paid , The charge defraide , According to the price of thought .
ACT. III. SCEN. I. Charinus , the father of Thirsis . Palaemon . PAlaemon , you me thinkes might something work With Thirsis my aggreeued sonne , and sound His humour what it is : and why he thus Afflicts himselfe in solitarinesse . You two were wont to be most inward friends , And glad I was to see it ; knowing you To be a man well tempred , fit to sort With his raw youth ; can you doe nothing now , To win him from this vile captiuity Of passion , that withholdes him from the world ? Pal. In troth , Charinus , I haue oftentimes , As one that suffred for his grieuances , Assayd to finde a way into the cause Of his so strange dismay ; and by all meanes Aduis'd him make redemption of himselfe , And come to life againe , and be a man With men : but all serues not , I finde him lockt Fast to his will , alleadge I what I can . Char. But will he not impart to you the cause ? Pal. The cause is loue ; but it is such a loue , As is not to be had . Cha. Not to be had ? Palaemon , if his loue be regular , Is there in all Arcadia any shee , Whom his ability , his shape , and worth May not attaine , he being my onely sonne ? Pal. Shee is not in Arcadia whom he loues , Nor in the world , and yet he deerely loues . Cha. How may that be , Palaemon ? tell me plaine . Pal. Thus plainly ; he 's in loue with a dead woman , And that so farre , as with the thought of her Which hath shut out all other , he alone Liues , and abhorres to be , or seene , or knowne . Cha. What was this creature could possesse him so ? Pal. Faire Siluia , old Medorus daughter , who Was two yeares past reported to be slaine By sauage beasts vpon our countrey shore . Cha. Is that his griefe ? alas , I rather thought It appertain'd vnto anothers part To wayle her death : Alexis should doe that To whom her father had disposed her , And shee esteemed onely to be his . Why should my sonne afflict him more for her , Then doth Alexis , who this day doth wed Faire Galatea , and forgets the dead ? And here the shepheards come to celebrate His ioyfull nuptials with all merriment , Which doth increase my cares , considering The comforts other parents doe receiue : And therefore good Palaemon worke all meanes You can to win him from his peeuish will , And draw him to these shewes , to companies , That others pleasures may inkindle his . And tell him what a sinne he doeth commit , To waste his youth in solitarinesse , And take a course to end vs all in him . Pal. Assure your selfe Charinus , as I haue So will I still imploy my vtmost powre , To saue him ; for me thinks it pittie were , So rare a peece of worth should so be lost , That ought to be preserued at any cost .
ACT. III. SCEN. II. Charinus . Medorus . MEdorus come , we two must sit , and mourne Whilst others reuell . We are not for sports , Or nuptiall shewes , which will but shew vs more Our miseries , in beeing both depriu'd , The comforts of our issue , which might haue ( And was as like to haue ) made our hearts As ioyfull now , as others are in theirs . Med. In deed Charinus , I for my part haue Iust cause to grieue amidst these festiuals , For they should haue been mine . This day I should Haue seene my daughter Siluia how she would Haue womand it ; these rites had bene her grace , And shee had sat in Galateas place . And now had warm'd my heart to see my bloud Preseru'd in her ; had shee not beene so rapt And rent from off the liuing as shee was . But your case is not pararell with mine , You haue a sonne , Charinus , that doth liue , And may one day to you like comforts giue . Cha. Indeed I haue a sonne ; but yet to say he liues , I cannot ; for who liues not to the world , Nor to himselfe , cannot be said to liue : For euer since that you your daughter lost , I lost my sonne : for from that day he hath Imbrakd in shades and solitarinesse , Shut himselfe vp from sight or company Of any liuing : and as now I heard , By good Palaemon , vowes still so to doe . Med. And did your sonne , my daughter loue so deare ? Now good Charinus , I must grieue the more , If more my heart could suffer then it doth ; For now I feele the horrour of my deede , In hauing crost the worthiest match on earth . Now I perceiue why Siluia did refuse To marrie with Alexis , hauing made A worthier choice ; which oh had I had grace To haue foreseene , perhaps this dismall chance Neuer had bene , and now they both had had Ioy of their loues , and we the like of them . But ah my greedy eye , viewing the large And spacious sheep-walkes ioyning vnto mine , Whereof Alexis was possest , made me , As worldlings doe , desire to marry grounds , And not affections , which haue other bounds . How oft haue I with threats , with promises , With all perswasions , sought to win her minde To fancie him , yet all would not preuaile ? How oft hath shee againe vpon her knees With teares besought me ; Oh deare father mine Doe not inforce me to accept a man I cannot fancie : rather take from mee , The life you gaue me , then afflict it so . Yet all this would not alter mine intent , This was the man shee must affect or none . But ah what sinne was this to torture so A hart forevow'd vnto a better choice , Where goodnesse met in one the selfe same point , And vertues answer'd in an equall ioynt ? Sure , sure , Charinus , for this sinne of mine The gods bereaft me of my childe , and would Not haue her be , to be without her heart , Nor me take ioy where I did none impart . Cha. Medorus , thus wee see mans wretchednesse That learnes his errours but by their successe , And when there is no remedie ; and now Wee can but wish it had beene otherwise . Med. And in that wish Charinus we are rackt ; But I remember now I often haue Had shadowes in my sleepe that figures bare Of some such liking twixt your childe and mine . And this last night a pleasing dreame I had ( Though dreams of ioy makes wakers minds more sad ) Me thought my daughter Siluia was return'd In most strange fashion , and vpon her knees Craues my good will for Thirsis , otherwise She would be gone againe and seene no more . I at the sight of my deare childe , was rapt With that excesse of ioy , as gaue no time Either for me to answer her request , Or leaue for sleepe to figure out the rest . Cha. Alas Medorus , dreames are vapours , which Ingendred with day thoughts , fall in the night And vanish with the morning ; are but made Afflictions vnto man , to th' end he might Not rest in rest , but toyle both day and night . But see here comes my solitarie sonne : Let vs stand close Medorus out of sight , And note how he behaues hlmselfe in this Affliction , and distressed case of his .
SCEN. III . Thirsis solus . THis is the day , the day , the lamentable day Of my destruction , which the Sun hath twice Returnd vnto my griefe , which keepe one course Continually with it in motion like . But that they neuer set : this day doth claime Th' especiall tribute of my sighes and teares , Though euery day I duely pay my teares Vnto that soule which this day left the world . And yet I know not why ? me thoughts the Sun Arose this day with farre more cheerefull rayes With brighter beames , then vsually it did As if it would bring something of release Vnto my cares , or else my spirit hath had Some manner of intelligence with hope Wherewith my heart is vnacquainted yet : And that might cause mine eie with quicker sence , To note th' appearing of the eye of heauen ; But something sure I feele which doth beare vp The weight of sorrow easier then before .
SCEN. IV. Palaemon . Thirsis . WHat Thirsis still in passion ? still one man ? For shame shew not your selfe so weakely set , So feebly ioynted that you cannot beare The fortunes of the world like other men . Beleeue me Thirsis you much wrong your worth : This is to be no man , to haue no powers . Passions are womens parts , actions ours . I was in hope t' haue found you otherwise . Thir. How ? otherwise Palaemon ? doe not you Hold it to be a most heroicke thing To act one man , and doe that part exact ? Can there be in the world more worthinesse change ? Then to be constant ? is there any thing Shewes more a man ? What , would you haue me That were to haue me base , that were indeed To shew a feeble heart , and weakely set . No no Palaemon , I should thinke my selfe The most vnworthy man of men , should I But let a thought into this heart of mine That might disturbe or shake my constancie . And thinke Palaemon I haue combates too , To be the man I am , being built of flesh , And hauing round about me traytors too That seeke to vndermine my powres , and steale Into my weakenesses , but that I keepe Continual watch and ward vpon my selfe , Least I should be surpriz'd at vnawares And taken from my vowes with other snares . And euen now at this instant I confesse , Palaemon , I doe feele a certaine touch Of comfort , which I feare to entertaine , Least it should be some spie , sent as a traine To make discouery of what strength I am . Pal. Ah worthie Thirsis , entertaine that spirit What euer else thou doe : set all the doores Of thine affections open thereunto . Thir. Palaemon no . Comfort and I haue beene So long time strangers , as that now I feare To let it in . I know not how t' acquaint My selfe therewith , being vsed to conuerse With other humours , that affect me best . Nor doe I loue to haue mixt company Whereto I must of force my selfe apply . Pal. But Thirsis thinke that this must haue an end , And more it would approoue your worth to make The same your work , then time should make it his . Thir. End sure it must Palamon , but with me : For so I by the Oracle was told That very day wherein I lost the day And light of comfort that can neuer rise Againe to mee : when I the saddest man That euer breath'd before those Altars fell , And there besought to know what was become Of my deare Silvia , whether dead , or how Reast from the world : but that I could not learne . Yet thus much did that voice diuine returne : Goe youth , reserue thy selfe , the day will come Thou shalt be happy , and returne againe . But when shall be that day demanded I , The day thou dyest , replide the Oracle . So that you see , it will not be in these But in th' Elizian fields , where I shall ioy , The day of death must bring me happinesse . Pal. You may mistake the meaning of those words Which is not knowne before it be fulfill'd . Yeeld you to what the gods command , if not Vnto your friends desires : reserue your selfe For better daies , and thinke the Oracle Is not vntrue , although not vnderstood . But howsoeuer , let it not be said That Thirsis being a man of so rare parts , So vnderstanding and discreete , should pine in loue And languish for a silly woman thus : To be the fable of the vulgar , made Ascorne , and laught at , by inferiour wits . Thir. In loue Palaemon ? know you what you say ? Doe you esteeme it light to be in loue ? How haue I beene mistaken in the choice Of such a friend , as I held you to be , That seemes not , or else doth not vnderstand The noblest portion of humanity , The worthiest peece of nature set in man ? Ah know that when you mention loue , you name A sacred mistery , a Deity , Not vnderstood of creatures built of mudde , But of the purest and refined clay Whereto th' eternall fires their spirits conuey . And for a woman , which you prize so low , Like men that doe forget whence they are men ; Know her to be th' especiall creature , made By the Creator of the complement Of this great Architect the world ; to hold The same together , which would otherwise Fall all asunder : and is natures chiefe Vicegerent vpon earth , supplies her state . And doe you hold it weakenesse then to loue ? And loue so excellent a miracle As is a worthy woman , ah then let mee Still be so weake , still let me loue and pine In contemplation of that cleane , cleare soule , That made mine see that nothing in the world Is so supreamely beautifull as it . Thinke not it was those colours white and red Laid but on flesh , that could affect me so . But something else , which thought holds vnder locke And hath no key of words to open it . They are the smallest peeces of the minde That passe this narrow organ of the voice . The great remaine behinde in that vast orbe Of apprehension , and are neuer borne . And therefore if your iudge cannot reach Vnto the vnderstanding of my Case , You doe not well to put your selfe into My Iury , to condemne me as you doe . Let th' ignorant out of their dulnesse laugh At these my sufferings , I will pitty them To haue beene so ill borne , so miscompos'd As not to know what thing it is to loue . And I to great Apollo here appeale The soueraigne of the Muses , and of all Wel tun'd affections , and to Cinthia bright , And glorious Lady of cleere faithfulnesse ; Who from aboue looke down with blisfull beames Vpon our humble groues , and ioy the hearts Of all the world , to see their mutuall loues ; They can iudge what worthinesse there is In worthy loue . Therefore Palaemon peace , Vnlesse you did know better what it were . And this be sure , when as that fire goes out In man , he is the miserablest thing On earth , his day-light sets , and is all darke And dull within ; no motions of delight , But all opprest , lies struggling with the weight Of worldly cares : and this olde Damon saies , Who well had felt what loue was in his daies . Pal. Well Thirsis , well , how euer you doe guilde Your passions , to indeere them to your selfe , You neuer shall induce me to beleeue , That sicknesses can be of such effect . And so farewell , vntill you shall be well .
SCEN. V Medorus . Charinus . O Gods , Charinus , what a man is this ? Who euer heard of such a constancie ? Had I but knowne him in enioying him , As now I doe , too late , in losing him , How blest had bene mine age ? but ah I was Vnworthie of so great a blessednesse . Cha. You see , Medorus , how no counsell can Preuaile to turne the current of his will , To make it run in any other course Then what it doth ; so that I see I must Esteeme him irreuocably lost . But harke , the shepheards festiuals begin , Let vs from hence , where sadnesse were a sinne .

Here was presented a rurall marriage , conducted with this Song .

From the Temple to the Boord , From the Boord vnto the Bed , We conduct your maidenhead : Wishing Hymen to affoord All the pleasures that he can , Twixt a woman and a man .
ACT. IIII. SCEN. I. Thirsis solus I Thought these simple woods , these gentle trees Would , in regard I am their daily guest , And harbour vnderneath their shadie roofes , Not haue consented to delude my griefes ; And mock my miseries with false reports : But now I see they will afflict me too . For as I came by yonder spreading Beech Which often hath the Secretarie beene To my sad thoughts , while I haue rested me ( if loue had euer rest ) vnder his gentle shade , I found incaru'd , and faire incaru'd , these words : Thy Siluia , Thirsis , liues ; and is return'd . Ah me , that any hand would thus adde scorne Vnto affliction ; and a hand so faire As this may seeme to be ; which were more fit , Me thinkes , for good , then to doe iniurie ; For sure no vertue should be ill imployd . And which is more ; the name of Siluia was Caru'd in the selfe same kinde of character Which shee aliue did vse , and where with all Subscrib'd her vowes to me , who knowes it best ; Which shews the fraud the more , & more the wrong . Therefore you stars of that high court of heauen , Which do reueale deceits , and punish them , Let not this crime , to feit a hand To couzin my desires , escape your doome . Nor let these riots of intrusion , made Vpon my lonenesse , by strange company Afflict me thus , but let me haue some rest . Come then , refresher of all liuing things , Soft sleepe , come gently , and take truce with these Oppressours , but come simple and alone , Without these images of fantasie , Which hurt me more then thou canst do me good : Let me not sleepe , vnlesse I could sleepe all .
SCEN. II. Palaemon . Thirsis . ALas , he here hath laid him downe to rest , It were now sinne his quiet to molest ; And God forbid I should ; I will retire And leaue him , for I know his griefes require This poore releeuement of a little sleepe . Thi. What spirit here haunts me ? what no time free ? Ah , is it you Palaemon ? would to God You would forbeare me but a little while : You shew your care of me too much in this : Vnseasonable loue , skarce kindnesse is . Pal. Good Thirsis , I am sorie I should giue The least occasion of disease to you ; I will be gone and leaue you to your rest . Thi. Doe good Palaemon , goe your way , farewell ; And yet Palaemon stay , perhaps you may By charmes you haue , cause sleep to close mine eies ; For you were wont , I doe remember well , To sing me Sonnets , which in passion I Composed in my happier daies , when as Her beames inflam'd my spirits , which now are set . And if you can remember it , I pray Sing me the song , which thus begins : Eyes hide my loue , Which I did write vpon the earnest charge Shee gaue vnto me , to conceale our loue . The Song . Eyes hide my loue , and doe not shew To any but to her my notes , Who onely doth that cipher know , Wherewith we passe our secret thoughts : Belie your lookes in others sight ; And wrong your selues to doe her right . Pal. So now he sleeps , or else doth seeme to sleep ; But howsoeuer , I will not trouble him .
SCEN. III . Clarindo . Thirsis SEe where he lies , whom I so long to see ; Ah my deere Thirsis , take thy quiet rest , I know thou needst it , sleepe thy fill , sweete loue Let nothing trouble thee : be calme oh windes , Be still you heards , chirp not so loud sweet birds , Lest you should wake my loue : thou gentle banke That thus art blest to beare so deare a weight , Be soft vnto those dainty lymmes of his , Plie tender grasse , and render sweet refresh Vnto his wearie senses , whilst he rests . Oh could I now but put off this disguise , With those respects that fetter my desires : How closely could I neighbour that sweet side ? But stay , he stirres ; I feare my heart hath brought My feete too neere , and I haue wakened him . Thi. It will not be , sleepe is no friend of mine , Or such a friend , as leaues a man , when most He needes him . See a new assault : who now ? Ah t is the boy that was with me erewhiles , That gentle boy ; I am content to speake With him , he speakes so pretily , so sweet , And with so good respectiue modesty : And much resembles one I knew once well : Come hither gentle boy , what hast thou there ? Cla. A token sent you from the nymph I serue . Thi. Keepe it my boy , and weare it on thy head . Cla. The gods forbid , that I , a seruant , should Weare on my head , that which my mistresse hath Prepar'd for yours : Sir , I beseech you vrge No more a thing so ill becomming me . Thi. Nay sure I thinke , it better will become Thy head then mine ; and therefore boy , thou must Needes put it on . Cla. I trust you lonenesse hath not so Unciviled you , to force a messenger To doe against good manners , and his will . Thi. No , good my boy , but I intreate thee now Let me but put it on , hold still thy head , It shall not be thy act , but onely mine : Let it alone good boy , for if thou saw'st How well it did become thee , sure thou wouldst . Now , canst thou sing my boy some gentle song ? Cla. I cannot sing , but I could weepe . Thi. Weepe , why ? Cla. Because I am not as I wish to be . Thi. Why so are none ; be not dipleas'd for this ; And if you cannot sing , tell me some tale To passe the time . Cla. That can I doe , did I but know what kinde Of tale you lik'd . Thi. No merry tale my boy , nor yet too sad , But mixed , like the tragicke Comedies . Cla. Then such a tale I haue , and a true tale , Beleeue me Sir , although not written yet In any booke , but sure it will , I know Some gentle shepheard , moou'd with passion , must Record it to the world , and well it will Become the world to vnderstand the same . And this it is : There was sometimes a nymph , Isulia nam'd , and an Arcadian borne ; Faire can I not avouch shee was , but chaste , And honest sure , as the euent will prooue ; Whose mother dying , left her very young Vnto her fathers charge , who carefully Did breed her vp , vntill shee came to yeares Of womanhood , and then prouides a match Both rich , and young , and fit ynough for her . But shee , who to another shepheard had Call'd Sirthis , vow'd her loue , as vnto one Her heart esteem'd more worthy of her loue , Could not by all her fathers meanes be wrought To leaue her choice ; and to forgoe her vow . Thi. No more could my deere Siluia be from me . Cla. Which caused much affliction to the both , Thi. And so the selfe same cause did vnto vs . Cla. This nymph one day , surcharg'd with loue & griefe , Which comonly ( the more the pittie ) dwel As Inmates both together , walking forth With other maydes , to fish vpon the shore ; Estrayes apart , and leaues her companie , To entertaine her selfe with her owne thoughts : And wanders on so far , and out of sight , As shee at length was sudainely surpriz'd By Pyrats , who lay lurking vnderneath Those hollow rocks , expecting there some prize . And notwithstanding all her pittious cryes , Intreaty , teares , and prayes , those feirce men Rent haire , and vaile , and caried her by force Into their ship , which in a little Creeke Hard by , at Anckor lay , and presently hoys'd saile , And so away . Thi . Rent haire and vaile ? and so Both haire and vaile of Siluia , I found rent , Which heere I keepe with mee . But now alas What did shee ? what became of her my boy ? Cla. When she was thus in shipp'd , and woefully Had cast her eyes about to view that hell Of horrour , whereinto she was so sudainely Implung'd , shee spies a woman sitting with a child Sucking her breast , which was the captaines wife . To her she creepes , downe at her feet she lyes ; O woman , if that name of woman may Moue you to pittie , pittie a poore maid , The most distressed soule that euer breath'd . And saue me from the hands of these feirce men , Let me not be defil'd , and made vncleane , Deare woman now : and I will be to you The faithfull'st slaue that euer mistres seru'd ; Neuer poore soule shall be more dutifull , To doe what euer you command , then I . No toile will I refuse ; so that I may Keepe this poore body cleane and vndeflowr'd , Which is all I will euer seeke . For know It is not feare of death laies me thus low , But of that stain wil make my death to blush . Thi. What , would not all this mooue the womans hart ? Cla. Al this would nothing moue the womans hart , Whom yet she would not leaue , but still besought ; Oh woman , by that infant at your breast , And by the paines it cost you in the birth , Saue me , as euer you desire to haue Your babe to ioy and prosper in the world . Which will the better prosper sure , if you Shall mercy shew , which is with mercy paid . Then kisses shee her feet , then kisses too The infants feete , and oh sweet babe ( said shee ) Could'st thou but to thy mother speake for me , And craue her to haue pittie on my case ; Thou mightst perhaps prevaile with her so much Although I cannot ; child , ah could'st thou speake . The infant , whether by her touching it Or by instinct of nature , seeing her weepe , Lookes earnestly vpon her , and then lookes Vpon the mother , then on her againe , And then it cryes , and then on either lookes : Which shee perceauing , blessed childe , said shee , Although thou canst not speake , yet do'st thou cry Vnto thy mother for me . Heare thy childe Deare mother , it 's for mee it cryes , It 's all the speech it hath : accept those cryes , Saue me at his request from being defilde ; Lett pittie moue thee , that thus mooues thy childe . The woman , though by birth and custome rude . Yet hauing veynes of nature , could not bee But peircible , did feele at length the point Of pittie , enter so , as out gusht teares ( Not vsuall to sterne eyes ) and shee besought Her husband , to bestow on her that prize . With safegard of her body , at her will . The captaine seeing his wife , the childe , the nymph , All crying to him in this pittious sort ; Felt his rough nature shaken too , and grants His wiues request , and seales his graunt with teares ; And so they wept all foure for company , And some beholders stood not with dry eies ; Such passion wrought the passion of their prize . Thi. In troth my boy , and euen thy telling it Moues me likewise , thou doost so feelingly Report the same , as if thou hadst bene by . But I imagine now how this poore nymph When she receiu'd that doome , was comforted ? Cla. Sir , neuer was there pardon , that did take Condemned from the blocke , more ioyfull then This graunt to her . For all her misery Seem'd nothing to the comfort she receiu'd . By being thus saued from impurity : And from the womans feet she would not part , Nor trust her hand to be without some hold Of her , or of the childe , so long as shee remaind Within the ship , which in few daies arriues At Alexandria , whence these pirats were ; And there this woefull maide for two yeares space Did serue , and truly serue this captains wife , Who would not lose the benefit of her Attendance for all her profit otherwise . But daring not in such a place as that To trust her selfe in womans habite , crau'd That she might be appareld like a boy , And so she was , and as a boy she seru'd . Thi. And two yeares t is , since I my Siluia lost . Cla. At two yeares end , her mistres sends her forth Vnto the Port for some commodities , Which whilst shee sought for , going vp and downe Shee heard some merchant men of Corinth talke , Who spake that language the Arcadians did , And were next neighbours of one continent . To them all rapt with passion , down she kneeles , Tels them shee was a poore distressed boy , Borne in Arcadia , and by Pirats tooke And made a slaue in Egypt , and besought Them , as they fathers were of children , or Did hold their natiue countrey deare , they would Take pity on her , and releeue her youth From that sad seruitude wherein shee liu'd : For which shee hop'd that shee had friends aliue Would thanke them one day , & reward them too ; If not , yet that , shee knew the heauens would doe . The merchants mou'd with pity of her case , Being ready to depart , tooke her with them , And landed her vpon her countrey coast , Where when shee found her selfe , shee prostrate fals , Kisses the ground , thankes giues vnto the Gods , Thankes them who had beene her deliuerers . And on shee trudges through the desart woods , Climes ouer craggie rockes , and mountaines steep , Wades thorough riuers , struggles thorough bogs , Sustained onely by the force of loue ; Vntill shee came vnto the natiue plaines , Vnto the fields , where first shee drew her breath . There lifts shee vp her eyes , salutes the ayre , Salutes the trees , the bushes , flowres , and all : And oh deare Sirthis , here I am , said shee , Here , notwithstanding all my miseries . I am the same I was to thee ; a pure , A chaste , and spotlesse maide : oh that I may Finde thee the man , thou didst professe to be . Thi. Or else no man ; for boy who truly loues , Must euer so ; that dye will neuer out : And who but would loue truly such a soule ? Cla. But now , the better to haue notice how The state of things then stood , and not in haste To cast her selfe on new incumbrances , Shee kept her habite still , and put her selfe To serue a nymph , of whom shee had made choice Till time were fitting to reueale her selfe . Thi. This may be Siluias case ; this may be shee ; But it is not : let me consider well : The teller , and the circumstance agree .
SCEN. III . Montanus . Thirsis . Chorus . AH sirrha , haue I found you ? are you here You princock boy ? and with your garland on ? Doth this attire become your peeuish head ? Come , I must teach you better manners , boy . He stabs Clarindo , and rashes off his garland . So Phillis , I haue done my taske , and here I bring the Trophey to confirme the same . Thi. Ah monster man , vile wretch , what hast thou done ? Alas , in what a strait am I ingaged here ? If I pursue reuenge , l leaue to saue . Help , help , you gentle swaines , if any now be neere , beast Help , help : ah harke euen Eccho helps me crie Cho. What meanes this outcrie ? sure some sauage Disturbs our heards , or else some wolfe hath seaz'd Vpon a Lambe . Thi. A worse thing then a wolfe , More bloudy then a beast , hath murthered here A gentler creature then a lambe : therefore Good swaines pursue , pursue the homicide . That ougly wretch , Montanus , who hath stabd This sily creature here , at vnawares . Cho. Montanus ? why , we met him but euen now , Deckt with a garland , grumbling to himselfe ; We will attach that villaine presently : Come sirs , make haste , and let vs after him .
SCEN. IIII . Palaemon . Thirsis . ALas , what accident is here falne out ? My deere friend Thirsis , how comes this to passe ? Thi. That monster man Montanus , here hath stab'd A harmlesse youth , in message sent to me . Now good Palaemon help me hold him vp , And see if that we can recouer him . Pal. It may be Thirsis , more his feare then hurt : Stay him a while , and I will haste and send For Lamia , who with oyntments , oyle and herbes If any help remayne , will help him sure . Thi. Do good Palaemon , make what haste you may Seeke out for help , and be not long away . Alas sweet boy , that thou should'st euer haue So hard misfortune , comming vnto me , And end thy tale with this sad tragedie ; That tale which well resembled Siluias case , Which thou resemblest ; for such browes had she . Such a proportion'd face , and such a necke . What haue we here , the mole of Siluia too ? What and her breasts ? what ? and her haire ? what all ? All Siluia ? yes , all Siluia , and all dead . And art thou thus return'd againe to me ? Art thou thy selfe , that strange deliuered nymphe ? And didst thou come to tell me thine escape From death to die before me ? had I not Ynough to doe , to wayle reported harmes But thou must come to bleed within my armes ? Was not one death sufficient for my greifes But that thou must die twice ? why thou wert dead To me before . Why ? must thou dye againe ? Ah , better had it bene still to be lost Then thus to haue bene found ; yet better found Though thus , then so lost as was thought before . For howsoeuer , now I haue thee yet Though in the saddest fashion that may be . Yet Siluia now I haue thee , and will I No more for euer part with thee againe : And we this benefit shall haue thereby Though fate would not permit vs both to haue One bed , yet Siluia we shall haue one graue . And that is something , and much more then I Expected euer could haue come to passe . And sure the gods but only sent thee thus To fetch me ; and to take me hence with thee ; And Siluia so thou shalt . I ready am T' accompany thy soule , and that with speed . The strings I feele , are all dissolu'd , that hold This wofull heart , reseru'd it seemes for this : And well reseru'd , for this so deare an end .
SCEN. V. Chorus . Palaemon . SO , we haue tooke the villaine , and him bound Fast to an Oake , as rugged as himselfe . And there he stares and gapes in th' ayre , and raues Like a wilde beast , that 's taken in the toyle : And so he shall remaine , till time we see What will become of this his sauage act . Pa: Cheere Thirsis , Lamia will come presently And bring the best preseruatiues she hath . What now ? Who lyes discouered here ? Ay me , A woman dead ? Is this that boy transform'd ? Why , this is Siluia , O good Thirsis how Comes this to passe ? Friend Thirsis , Thirsis speake . Good Thirsis tell me . Out alas he sownes , As well as she , and both seeme gone alike . Come gentle heards men , come and carry them To yonder sheep-cote quickly , that we may ( If possible ) recouer them againe . If not performe those rites that appertaine Vnto so rare a couple . Come my friends , make hast .
The fourth Song of the Chorus . Qu. Were euer chast and honest hearts Expos'd vnto so great distresses ? Ans. Yes : they that act the worthiest parts , Most commonly haue worst successes . Great fortunes follow not the best , It 's vertue that is most distrest . Then fortune why doe we admire The glory of thy great excesses ? Since by thee what men acquire Thy worke and not their worths expresses . Nor dost thou raise them for their good : But t' haue their illes more vnderstood .
ACT. V. SCAEN . I. Chorus . Palaemon . DId euer yet Arcadia heare before Of two so worthie louers , as we find Thirsis and Siluia were ? or euer had Cleare truth , and simple constant honesty , So lamentable an euent as this ? But here comes forth Palaemon , we shall now Learne all of him , what hath been done within . Pal. Goe Pollio , summon all th' Arcadia youth Here , round about , and will them to prepare To celebrate with all delights they can This ioyfull houre , that hath restord to vs The worthiest paire of hearts that euer were , Will them to shew the height of musiques art , And all the straines of cunning they can shew : That we may make these rockes and hilles about , Ring with the Eccho of redoubled notes . And will Charinus and Medorus too , The aged parents of this worthie paire , To come with speed , whose ioy , good soules , wil be More then their speed ; and yet their speed I know , Will be beyond th' allowance of their yeeres , When they shall vnderstand this happie newes . And summon likewise all the traine of nymphes That glorifie our plaines , and all that can Giue honour to this day . Goe Pollio hast away , and as you goe Vnbind Montanus that rude sauage swaine : And though he be vnworthie to be here , Yet let him come . He hath bene in his daies Held a good fellow , howsoeuer now His rage and loue transported him in this . Cho. Palamon , we are glad to see you thus Delightfull , now we hope there is good newes . Pal. Good newes my friends , and I wil tell it you , Siluia and Thirsis being to my cottage brought , The skilfull Lamia comes and searcht the wound Which Siluia had receiu'd of this rude swaine , And finding it not deadly she applyde Those remedies she knew of best effect . And bindes it vp , and powres into her mouth Such cordiall waters as reuiue the spirits : And so much wrought , as she at length perceiu'd Life was not quite gone out , but lay opprest . With like indeuours we on Thirsis worke , And ministred like Cordials vnto him : At length we might heare Siluia fetch a groane , And there withal Thirsis perceiu'd to moue , Then Thirsis fet a groane , and Siluia mou'd As if their liues were made both of one peece . Whereat we ioyd , and then remoud ' and set Each before other , & held vp their heads , And chaf'd their temples , rub'd and stroak'd their cheekes : Wherewith first Siluia casts vp her dimme eyes , And presently did Thirsis lift vp his . And then againe they both together sigh'd , And each on other fixt an vnseeing eye : For yet t' was scarse the twylight of their new Returning day , out of the night of death . And though they saw , they did not yet perceiue Each other , and yet both turn'd to one point As toucht alike , and held their lookes direct . At length we might perceiue , as life began T' appeare ; and make the morning in their eyes , Their beames were cleerer , & their opener lookes Did shew as if they tooke some little note Of each the other : yet not so as they Could thorowly discerne who themselues were . And then we tooke and ioynd their hands in one , And held them so a while , vntill we fealt How euen each others touch , the motion gaue Vnto their feeling , and they trembling wrung Their hands together , and so held them lockt , Lookt still vpon each other , but no words at all . Then we call'd out to Thirsis Thirsis looke , It is thy Siluia thou here holdst , she is Return'd reuiu'd , and safe . Siluia , behold thou hast Thy Thirsis , and shalt euer haue him thine . Then did we set them both vpon their feet And there they stood in act , euen as before Looking vpon each other hand in hand : At last we saw a blushing red appeare In both their cheekes , which sense sent as a lampe To light their vnderstanding . And forthwith The teares gusht forth their eies , which hindred them A while from seeing each other , till they had Cleared them againe . And then as if new wak'd From out a fearefull dreame , they stand and doubt Whether they were awake indeed , or else Still in a dreame , distrusting their owne eyes . Their long indured miseries , would not Let them belieue their sudden happinesse , Although they saw it : till with much adoe They had confirm'd their credit , and had kist Each other and imbrac'd , and kist againe , And yet still dumbe : their ioy now seem'd to be Too busie with their thoughts , t' allow them words . And then they walkt a little , then stood still , Then walkt againe , and still held other fast As if they fear'd , they should be lost againe . And when at last they spake , it was but thus , O Siluia , and O Thirsis , and there stopt . We , lest our sight and presence So many ) hinder might the passage of being there Their modest , simple , and vnpractis'd loue , Came all our way , and onely Lamia left Whose spirit , and that sufficient skill she hath Will serue no doubt , to see they shall doe well . Cho. Well may they do deere couple , who haue thus Grac'd our Arcadia with their faithfulnes .
SCAEN . II. Phillis . Lidia . Cloris . WHat shall we now do Lidia ? now am I Vtterly sham'd : this youth turn'd woman is , Clarindo , Siluia is become ; how now ? Can I for euer looke on her againe ? Or come in any company for shame ? Now must I needs be made a common ieast And laughing stocke to euery one that shall But heare how grossely I behau'd my selfe . Lid. Faith Phillis as it is falne out , your case Is very crazie , and to make it whole There is no way but euen to laugh it out , And set as good a face , as you can doe Vpon the matter , and say thus : How you Knew well inough it was no man whom you Affected so , who neuer could loue man , Nor euer would , and that by meere instinct And simpathie of Sexe , you fancied him . So put it off , and turne it to a ieast , Phi. That shall I neuer doe but euer blush At her , to thinke what she will thinke of me , Who did bewray my selfe so foolishly . Lid. Are you here Cloris , you are blest to day For being mistres vnto such a boy : You may reioyce that euer this fell out . Clo. Reioyce ? ah Lidia , neuer was there nymphe Had more occasion to be sad then I , For I am quite vndone and sham'd hereby . For I imploy'd this my supposed boy In message vnto Thirsis , whom I lou'd I must confesse , more dearely then my life : And told him all the secrets of my heart . And therefore with what face can euer I Looke vpon them that know thus much by me ? No Lidia , I will now take Thirsis course : Hide me for euer in these desert woods , And neuer come in companie againe ; They shall not laugh at me in their great ioyes . Lid. But Cloris , I would laugh with them , were I as you , And how soeuer felt my selfe within , Yet would I seeme be otherwise without . Cannot you say , that you knew well enough How it was Siluia that you intertain'd , Although you would not seeme to take such note ; And thereupon imploy'd her in that sort To Thirsis , knowing who it was would giue To him the greatest comfort vpon earth . And thus faire Nimphes you fitly may excuse These simple slips , and know that they shall still Haue crosses with their piles , who thus doe play Their fortunes with their loues , as you two did : But you must frame your countenance thereto And looke with other faces then their owne . As many else doe here , who in their parts Set shining lookes vpon their clowdy hearts , And let vs mixe vs with this company That here appeares with mirth and iollitie .
The Song of the fifth Chorus . Who euer saw so faire a sight , Loue and vertue met aright : And that wonder Constancie , Like a Comet to the eye Seldome euer seene so bright ? Sound out aloud so rare a thing , That all the Hilles and Vales may ring . Looke , Louers looke , with passion see , If that any such there bee : As there cannot but be such Who doe feele that noble touch In this glorious companie , Sound out aloud , &c.
FINIS .

Pag 51. line 24 & page 54. line 28. for lonenesse , reade lonenesse . Ib. p. 54. l. 6. for desci●e r. desire p. 59. l. 23 put out , all . p. 62. l 7. at the verses end , adde , help . p. 63. l. 6. r. oyles .

Machine-generated castlist A19829-clarindo 45 A19829-thirsis 34 A19829-cloris 28 A19829-palaemon 27 A19829-phillis 20 A19829-lidia 17 A19829-montanus 11 A19829-charinus 10 A19829-chorus 5 A19829-dorcas 5 A19829-hymen 4 A19829-silvia 3 A19829-medorus 3 A19829-envy 2 A19829-jealousy 1 A19829-silvanus 1 A19829-avarice 1
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HIGHESTborne-Princesse TO THE MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTIE OF THE HIGHEST-borne princess , ANNE of Denmark , Queene of England , sowell desires : your sight most loathsome is Vnto so well dispos'd a companie . Therefore be Siluanns Siluanus . trem bling hauing pass'd The heates , the colds , the trembling agonies Of feares , and hopes , and all miserablierent ; Siluia who was ( ah woe the while ) So miserablie rent from off the world . So rapt away , Alltorne Safe onely this poore remnant of her vaile , All torne , and this deere locke of her rent stillwould forwardnes , Yet still would giue me flowers , still would me shew What she would haue me , yet I dolater Thou maiest be such a fond Idolater To die for loue ; though that were very covredst cleane , like her womanhood , Which whilome coveredst the most louely face That euer eye beheld Doeit From thy sad mistres Cloris ; but thou must Doe it exactly well , with thy best grace , Siluta that is death to me : for though sometimes Silvia and I most deere companions were , Yet when Auaile doe good boy . Although I feare it will , Availe me little : for I doubt his heart Is repossessed mein Alas thou do'st but trouble me in vaine , I cannot helpe thee : t'is not ifthou Not in thy powre Clarindo ? ah if thou Hadst any thing of manlines , thou Ieft hast thou Thus disappointed my desires , and left My shame t'afflict me worser then my loue aboundaut heardsmen prooue ; You shall perceiue how their aboundant store Payes not their expectation , nor wesee parts Of false deceiuings plaid , as now we see . sou'raintie hopes , is free VVithout the verge of any sov'raintie . And is a Lord at home , commands the day oflate free As your estate ? what , haue you had of late Some coy repulse of your disdainfull misforrnne world we see are caught , And suffer for misfortune , not their fault . fily Now sily girle , how fondly doe you talke ? How haue inloue T'imagine such a worthy nymph as shee VVould be in love with such a youth as he ? VVhy now louein wel ; no Amarillis hath Supplanted Siluias love in Thirsis heart , Nor any shall : but see adiur'd motion might Procure , and him besought , adjur'd , invok'd , By all the rights of Nature beregular Not to be had ? Palaemon , if his loue be regular , Is there in all Arcadia any shee Imbrak d lost my sonne : for from that day he hath Imbrakd in shades and solitarinesse , Shut himselfe bereast Charinus , for this sinne of mine The gods bereaft me of my childe , and would Not haue her shadowesin rackt ; But I remember now I often haue Had shadowes in my sleepe that figures bare Of some such hopet'haue are womens parts , actions ours . I was in hope t'haue found you otherwise . Palaeman End sure it must Palamon , but with me : For so I by the Oracle was faddest can neuer rise Againe to mee : when I the saddest man That euer breath'd before those Altars Siluta besought to know what was become Of my deare Silvia , whether dead , or how Reast from the world Ofth The great remaine behinde in that vast orbe Of apprehension , and are neuer borne . des●●●● disguise , VVith those respects that fetter my desires : How closely could I neighbour that sweet lo●enesse I trust you lonenesse hath not so Unciviled you , to force a messenger Vnciuil'd I trust you lonenesse hath not so Unciviled you , to force a messenger To doe against Ofhorrour Had cast her eyes about to view that hell Of horrour , whereinto she was so sudainely blu sh , But of that stain wil make my death to blush . ●ll not lose the benefit of her Attendance for all her profit otherwise . But daring not in Onebed Though fate would not permit vs both to haue One bed , yet Siluia we shall haue one graue Poloemon Palamon , we are glad to see you thus Delightfull Iampe both their cheekes , which sense sent as a lampe To light their vnderstanding . And forthwith asit Faith Phillis as it is falne out , your case Is very crazie ●t simpathie of Sexe , you fancied him . So put it off , and turne it to a ieast , louenesse Pag 51. line 24 & page 54. line 28. for lonenesse , reade lonenesse . Ib. p. 54. l. 6. for de●●●e lonenesse . Ib. p. 54. l. 6. for desci●e r. desire p. 59. l. 23 put out , all . p. 62. l