Argalus and Parthenia· as it hath been acted at the court before their Maiesties: and at the Private-House in Drury-Lane, by their Maiesties Servants. By Hen. Glapthorne.

Actus 2. Scena 1.

Argalus, Kalander, Philarchus.

YOu are too strangely timorous, your full worth Speakes in as loud an accent of Desert, As the most meriting Arcadian Lord, Who boasts his Ancestry.

Arga.

My Lord, The faire Parthenia instructs all hearts. Nobility, with Musick of her voyce; Miriads of joyes are in her looks; her eyes Are Natures richest Diamonds set in foyles Of polish'd Ebony, her breath expires Odours more sweet than issu'd from the trees Of Balme in Paradise.

Philar.

Demagoras

Drunk with opinion of himselfe, declines As much her glorious merit, as your just Expressions honors it.

Arga.

'T were sacriledge Not to confesse so manifest a truth, 'T was shee when first I did salute the War With my unable person; who inspir'd My soule with courage active as the wind, Gave me a manly being, and infus'd By the divine reflection of her love, Thoughts fiery as that passion: I do live Only her creature. Borrow my poore heat From the extended vertue of her flame.

Kalan.

You are too modest, T'ascribe a greater glory to my niece, Then the whole stock of women ever boasted; You'l make her proud my Lord, 'tis an excesse Of naturall sweetnesse in you; you must temper With a more moderate confidence.

Arga.

Alas my Lord, Of more sincere devotion; every thought My fancy offers, is a sacrifice To the bright deity of Parthenia, Whose noble freenesse, though it may afford Me entertainment, more repleat with grace, Than she bestowes on every Suitor, yet My timorous hopes dare not assume that life, As to beleeve she loves me; pray my Lord, You are familiar with Parthenias thoughts Resolve your friends this questionable doubt; Whom her affection at purity has chosen Her loves blest favorite.

Phi.

My Lord, you know him, He's your most intimat friend.

Arga.

My friend, Were he my utmost enemy and belov'd, Of faire Parthenia: that should be a tie

Of adoration to me, pray declare The man must be made fortunate with the title Of Lord of such perfection.

Phil.

He is A noble generous and well manur'd youth Beares beauties ensignes in his gracious looks. Has that supreme Divinity in his eyes As sparkles flames, able to fire all hearts, And the superlative vertue of his Mind, Transcends his outward figure; he is wise As most mature age, Valiant in resolve, As fames belov'd Child reputation, Conjoine the masculine graces of his soule, With lovely carriage, and discret discourse Has not your knowledge reach'd him yet?

Arga.

This character So far excelling me undoes my hopes.

Phi.

My Lord were not to Secure your peace, I'de not disclose this secret, 'tis your selfe, 'Tis Argalus Parthenia has receiv'd A welcome guest into her open heart, Amase not your quick senses, 'tis a truth.

Kalan.

Your mutuall modesties Defer your just desires, I must become The moderator 'twixt your bashfull hopes You do affect, as timorously as Swans, (Cold as the brook they swim in) who do bill, With tardy modesty, and chirring plead Their constant resolutions.

Enter Chrisaclea.

Chris.

Noble Argalus, My honor'd brother, pray heaven out entertainment, Be worthy your acceptance, you must not expect That happy welcome, here your house affords

To such deserving guests. My Lord Philarchus, Saw you the Lord Demagoras lately.

Phi.

Madam, Not since he flung last night hence in a rage From the presentment by the Shepherds.

Kal.

Demagoras Is of so haughty a disposition (Though noble otherwise) that I can wish No alliance with him: sister, I doe feare, You are too zealous to advance the match '•• wixt him and your Parthenia: her's a Lord As great by birth, and greater by the favour Done him by th'King, but greatest by his owne Superlative goodnesse, does affect her with So true a fancie, that you much would wrong Humanity to dispose her to another, Wheresuch a meriting Suiter does pretend A holy interest in her.

Chri.

Good brother doe not Question my honour so much, I am loath To give the least occasion of distaste To my Lord Demagoras, and since my daughter Cannot affect him, I conceive he will Cease his unnecessary suit, and leave her To her owne disposure.

Kala.

I wish it. My Lords, and sister, honour me to transferre Your companies to my Castle; it doth stand Oppress'd with solitude, and mournes the lacke Of noble hospitality, like a widow Depriv'd of a lov'd husband. I doe long To see Dame Ceres crown'd with wreathes of wheat, Kisse plumpe cheek'd Bacchus there in daily feasts, To view my table furnish'd with such guests As would esteem't no trouble to adorne it A yeare or two together, and there finde No entertainment like a bounteous minde.

Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Enter Parthenia with a Lute, & Exit.

Enter Demagoras.

This way she went, I followed her thorow the grove of Cy∣presse to this Bower, she cannot befarre off.

Exit.

Song.

Parthenia within.

Parth.

O Argalus!

Enter Demagoras.

It was her voyce, Parthenia's voyce, she nam'd Her minion Argalus: that sound (though cloth'd In the inchanting accents of her breath) Was harsh as Screech-owles, or the Whislers notes, And shall be fatall to her as the straines The Syrens (dancing on the peacefull Seas) Bestow on wretched Mariners. Come forth,

Drags out Parth.

Imploy your airie numbers on your owne Proud beauties Epitaph.

Parth.

What meanes my Lord, This rude intrusion on my retir'd thoughts? How dare you hand me thus? Uncivill man Forbeare this boldnesse.

Demag.

Perswade me to't. When you can sing the world into a sleepe, Or tame wilde lightning with a teare; you'd best Try if the passing sweetnesse of your tunes Can (like the voyce of Magick) charme my rage To pity, or bring Argalus to your rescue;

Would he were here, and arm'd with sulphurous clouds, Like Iove imbracing Semele in fire, This hand should snatch thee from his circular flames To my revenge, inforce him to behold, Helplesse, the present ruines of thy beauty.

Parthe.

Your threats cannot affright me, I defenc'd With mine owne innocence, feare not your malice, Should it invade my life; your foule intent Will (like an arrow shot upright) descend On your owne head. But pray declare my Lord Why you thus riot on my guiltlesse selfe. If 'cause I cannot love you, I will die That causes Martyr.

Demag.

Die! your Fates reserve you Not to so brave a period as death From my great hand: I'le stick on thee a shame Worse than the poore deprivall of thy life, Such as will kill thee daily with conceit Of thy unequall'd misery.

Parth.

Perhaps He does intend my ravishment. My Lord, Mischiefe I see in your distracted looks Pretended to my purity: Oh doe not Murder mine honour; I'le resigne my breath With freedome to your fury. Surely Sirs A virgins gore (sooner than blood of kids) Will mollifie your heart of Adamant To a soft fleshie substance.

Demag.

Doe not prate, Nor with loud clamours fill the wood, nor question What my intent is. Though you had not lov'd me, You need not in contempt have throwne your heart On that effeminate Argalus; that wrong Fills my vast soule with horrour, and invites My active thoughts to a severe revenge, Since he whom I can name, but in contempt, Usurps my lawfull priviledge; otherwise The injury with patience had been borne,

Revenges cause is an immediate scorne.

Exeunt.

Enter Strephon, Clitophon, Sapho, Aminta.

Clito.

Gentle Aminta heare me.

Amint.

Have you done? Winding Meander first shall straitly runne, Roses in winter flourish, and our flocks Weare golden fleeces in stead of woolly locks, Ere Clitophon's false heart doe serious prove, And entertaine the perfectnesse of love.

Streph.

'Tis her love to me makes her slight Clitophon thus. This 'tis to be a handsome man: I shall doat shortly (seeing my lovely Physnomie in some cleare spring, the Shepherds looking-glasse) on my owne shadow, and like Narcissus leap into the waves to embrace it.

Which is she among the Swains On whom the gentle Strephon dains To cast a sheeps-eye, nod or wink, But does her selfe immortall think? Who indeed has such a face, So full of a bewitching grace. My head loves pillow, where he does rest As safe as Magpie in her nest. My forehead sweetly is bespred With Violets, and Tulips blew and red: The amber Couslip, and the corall Rose, Pretious complexion of my sweeter nose. My eyes are elements from which fall showers That make my cheeks a spring of severall flowers. So is my head a nose-gay growing on one stalke, My body is the garden, though it walk; And ther's no woman but may well, To th'worst part about it smell. My armes are Dragons that defend all these: Now view in me living Hesperides.

Sapho.

Who looks on Strephon that will not suppose The blushing Piony growing in his nose? The yellow Primrose that in woods had wont

To flourish, springs up in his amber front.

Streph.

I had a face of brasse indeed should I deny this for truth: shee'l praise me shortly into the starres, and then I shall (for a new Planet) be set i'th the Shepherds Kalender. What a gull's this Clitophon, ••ow long might he live ere he be in such favour with the Shepherdesses.

Why when on him they will not gaze, On me they stare with much amaze; And when on him, as on a Clowne, With lowring lookes they scowle and frowne, Let gentle Strephon but vouchsafe To let them looke on him, they laugh.

Clitoph.

Oh you are pleasant Strephon. Sapho say, Are you as cruell as Aminta? Day Loves not the Sunne-shine dearlier than my flame Is equally devoted to your name: To yours Aminta joyntly, Oh you two, Are clearer, sweeter than the morning dew Falling in May on Lillies, fairer farre Than Venus Swannes, or spotlesse Ermins are. Which first vouchsafes me answer? There does flie Immediate comfort from Aminta's eye: Sapho speakes joy in smiles: but Virgins, here Comes beauties abstract, who has no peere

Enter Florida.

Grace me, deare Florida, with one blest looke.

Florid.

Away dissembler; Fishes scorne the hooke They see laid bare before them: but prepare, The other Shepherds hither comming are, Attending on my Lady and her guests. This musicke does invite us to Pans feast.

Enter Kalander, Argalus, Philarchus, Ca∣stalia, singing.

Great Pan to thee we doe confine This fleece of W••••ll, This 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Wi••••

To father Bacchus Ceres deare This garland of the 〈…〉〈…〉 Accept. Silvanus we present These fruits to thee, thy bounty sent. And you maid••, from whose each••eye Winged shafts of love doe flie, Doe not shame to let your feet In a countrey measure meet With these youths, whose active parts Will play the theeves, and steale your hearts.

Dance.

Kaland.

Shepherds, we owe our gratitude to your thankes.

Sapho.

Lords, and Ladies, thankes to all That grac'd our harmlesse festivall.

Exeunt Shepherds.

Kalan.

I doe admire we wanted my faire Neece At these solemnities: me thought the sports Shew'd dull without her; noble Argalus My best wishes wait upon you.

Exit Kaland.

Arga.

Your honours Creature: I much wonder where Partheni•• has bestow'd herselfe.

Enter Parthenia.

Phi.

Shee cannot Be absent long, see here she comes; Madam, you were expected here, the Shepherds Did in their Pastorall presentments move Dully without your presence. Why thus vail'd, Extend your glorious beauty, and ecclipse The emulous day with brightnesse: Heavens protect me, What strange delusion's this?

Arg.

Surely a mist Shades our amazed opticks, or has some Black Devill taken her habituall forme To mocke our erring fancies; 'tis her face Vail'd in a robe of darknesse, yet her eyes Shoot their acc••stomed brightnesse through the clouds, To tell the admiring gazers, two such lights Cannot indure priv••tion: Horror friend! What should portend this ominous sight?

Deare Madam, have you devis'd this embleme of disguise▪ That when disperc'd 't may give more perfect lustre To your most exquisite figure.

Parth.

Oh my Lord, Look not on such a monster, lest my sight Infect your spotlesse purity. I am (Stop your innocent eares, lest the harsh sound Pierce them with horror) poyson'd.

Philar.

What ignoble villaine, Madam, has spoil'd natures most glorious frame, Demolish'd such a beauty as the most Cunning Painters with their skill shall never imitate?

Arga.

Let her name Guesse at his appellation that has ventur'd This irreligious blemish to white truth; And were his heart wrapt in a marble rock, Fenc'd with a Mine of Adamant, this hand Should from the stony casket dig it out, And with his vile blood poyson all the world.

Parthe.

Deare Sir, the employment of this fruitlesse rage Cannot attach him for this mischiefe. 'Twas Demagoras, who mad with the conceit That for your sake I did neglect his love, Surpris'd my guitlesse person in the wood, And with a juyce (more poysonous than the foam•• Of angry Dragons) sprinkled my cleare face, By th' ••owerfull venome straight ore bespred with this Contagious leprosie, and then he fled.

Arga.

Whither? What place can be so strong to guard So mercilesse a Tyger? Should he mix His conversation with unsetled aires, Breake (like a cunning Pioner) through the earth, And hide himselfe i'th Center, some quick wind, Or hideo••s earthquake, would inforce him thence To his deserved punishment. Oh friend! Me thinks this object should affright the light Into a sad concealment, force the clouds.

To drop upon the earth in floods of teares, And drowne it everlastingly.

Philar.

P••ore Lady.

Parth.

Doe not Lords Urge violent rage to discompose your peace, I will (like The pleasing aire) wrap in that cloud, my head, That has infected it, and seeke out death: Nor doe I grieve for my vaine beauties losse, Since shivering sicknesse, or the hand of age Would have perform'd that office which his poyson Usurp'd upon its lustre: this onely wounds My fraile resolve, since I beleeve that you, Lord Argalus, affected me, that I Should be so wretched, as to be depriv'd Of that indifferent forme, for which I might Have merited your favour.

Arga.

Gracious soule! Inforce my immortality from my brest, Which like a flame (inclos'd 'twixt walls of brasse) Strives to ascend to heaven, and fetch from thence Thy ravish'd beauty: 'twas thy excellent minde That I admir'd; no noble soule can fix Onely on fleshly glory; and since that Remaines intire, immoveable as faith, I should undoe my honour, in revolt From sacred truth, should I renounce thy love: I'le yet imbrace thy Nuptialls with a heat Holy as altars incense; for thy face! A thousand virgins with immaculate teares Shall weep upon it, bathe it in their bloods, Till (from the different colours) the fresh Rose And glorious Lillie, in that snowy field, Regaine their ancient seats, and re-create thee The absolute Queene of beauty.

Par.

Oh my Lord, Your fancie wanders in distracted paths Of vanquish'd reason; since infortunate I,

Must like a piece of 〈…〉〈…〉 By an unskilfull Carver, needs beco••e A most imperfect statue. Since I cannot Boast any thing that's meriting your love, Strive to forget 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who will ••eeke Some desert, where poore mo••••••ll never trod, To spend the wretched 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of he•• lifein. Farewell my Lord, hereafter wish to meet, As I doe, in one tombe, one winding sheet.

The end of the second Act.