The careles shepherdess a tragi-comedy acted before the King & Queen, and at Salisbury-Court, with great applause / written by T.G. ; with an alphebeticall catologue of all such plays that ever were printed.

THE Careless Shepherdess: A PASTORALL.

Actus Primus.

Scena Prima.

Musique having plaid a little, Philaretus is discovered discontented on his Couch, whilst one sings the ensuing Song.

They sing.

A Song.

1

GRieve not fond man, nor let one tear Steal from thy eyes, she'l hear No more of Cupids shafts, they fly For wounding her, so let them dye. For why shouldst thou nourish such flames as burn Thy easie brest, and not have like return.

Chorus.

Love forces love, as flames expire, If not encreas'd by gentle fire.

2

Let then her frigid coolnesse move Thee to withdraw thy purer love; And since she is resolv'd to shew She will not love Do thou do too: For why should beauty so far charm thy eyes, That if she frown thoul't prove her Sacrifice.

Chorus.

Love, &c.

PHi.

Play on, let Musique feed the ear, which is

[They play it again.

Deny'd my Mistress voice. That strain again: Oh 'tis compos'd of Harmony, it has The Magick of a Syrens note. So, So.

[The musique ceases.

Now let them sing what in my sleep I dream't Of Cupids cruelty.

They sing.

1

Blind Cupid lay aside thy Bow, Thou dost not know it's use, For Love, thou Tyranny dost show, Thy kindness is abuse.

2

Thou who wert call'd a prety Boy, Art thought a Scheleton, For thou like death dost still destroy, When thou dost strike but one.

3

Each vulgar hand can do as much, Thin heavenly skill we see, When we behold one Arrow touch Two marks that distant be.

4

Love alwayes looks for love agen, If e've thou wound mans heart, Pierce by the way his rib, and then He'l kisse, not curse thy Dart.

Phila.

Enough, no-more. Why should I tax thy power gentle Boy, That holds so much Divinity, it awes Not mortalls only, but makes other powers Sub-Deities to thine? Great Love forgive me, I'le with religious and devout submission Beg reconcilement for my errors.

Enter servant.

Serv.

Sir. Your Father doth command your presence.

Phila.

Tell him My duty shall present it self; I go Like an unwilling Sacrifice to pay My life, 'am loath, but must obey.

Exeunt.

ACTUS 1. SCENA. 2.

Enter Lariscus and Cassarina.

LAr.

Can you be Mistress of so cold a heart, When such a flame as mine Courts you to warm it? Think but how long and with what testimonies Of my true service I have woed your favour.

Cast.

You are deceiv'd Lariscus, I have not Such a cold heart as you pretend, nor am I Ingratefull to your love you have exprest; But you must pardon me, if I forbear, And pause before I give my self away. You men, when you enjoy what you desire, Cool in affections, and being married We lose our price and value, while we keep Our freedome, you poure forth your service to us, And study new wayes of devotion too How to preserve us: Yet I do not make This my reason, that I am so slow In giving you that answer you desire: I have profest already that I love Your Person.

Lar.

These are words, Oh give me proof! And let not Hymen wast his holy tapers; Give me Possession of my Happinesse.

Cast.

Tame your affection, if you love me as You have made boast, you will not think it tedious To expect till I declare my resolution. Me-thinks that Lovers might content themselves Sometimes to meet, and talk, and smile, and kiss, Without desire of more possession. Thus I could satisfie my self, and you A man, that better can correct your passions, Should rest in this. The wish of more betrayes But the rank part of Love.

Lar.

Were every Virgin Of this opinion, the Race of men And women would be lost; had but your Mother

Been of that minde, the world had never known Such a thing as Castarina, whose sweet frame And charming beauty, now hath made Lariscus The subject of your pity.

Cast.

Well Lariscus, If you will arm your self with noble thoughts, And think without examining my heart, I have some reasons why I thus delay you, You will perhaps finde no cause to repent: Yet I am free, nor can you challenge me Of any injustice, if I should to another Dispose my heart; no vows have past on my side To meet with yours; what I may do hereafter In your assurance, may deserve a welcome.

Enter Cleobulus and Philaretus.

Cleobulus is making to this walk, And young Philaretus, let us withdraw To the next Grove.

Lar.

I am happy to wait on you.

Exeunt. Lar. and Cast.

ACT. 1. SCENA 3.

CLeob.

Is this the reward of all my care? Hast thou Forgot thy Birth and generous blood? Have I By my own industry added to the Estate My Father left me, with an hope to make Thee great, and match thee to a Family Of Honor? and have you thrown your kinde heart Forsooth, upon a Beggar, a base Shepherdess?

Phil

Oh Sir forbear! The thunder when it breaks, Carries no more horror with't, then this Speech of yours. Can she be base, whom Nature Hath grac'd with all perfections of the first Creation? I tell you Sir, were all As she, Pandora should receive her ills Into her Box again, and man as at The first, should be exempted from a fear Of death.

Cleob.

Alas poor silly Boy! thou think'st That virtue, which is onely varnisht o're With modest looks.

Phil.

Such modest looks as grace Arismena, cannot be counterfeit: She's No Impostor: her chast looks are the true Symptoms of what lies treasur'd in the heart, To which l've vow'd devotion, and will pay My love religiously to her chast self.

Cleob.

But ere you do't, think on these aged haires, And tell me, if their whitenesse exact not Your quick obedience to my will.

Phil.

Indeed I must confesse you are my sather, and May by that challenge Sir, to be the Pilot Of my wil, and in ought which may concern Me (but my wife.) You shall bear greater sway Then I my self.

Cleob.

I thank thee Sir; in things Of most importance I must be a stranger; In slight and common things you'l use my counsell.

Phil.

Nay Sir; I did mean To beg here your consent with all humility Became a son; and I did nourish hope You would be kinde, and make my wishes happy; For I must here professe, I love her so, That were the world propounded, my reward To change that deer affection to this maid, Thus I would spurn it. My soul flies to her With wings of chast and zealous love.

Cleob.

Y'are then resolv'd?

Phil.

I am.

Cle.

To marry without a portion?

Thil.

Without such portions as the world esteems: And yet she is not Sir so poor, she has—

Cleob.

What has she foolish Boy, a nest of sheephooks? Her fathers goodly armory; a stock Of tar, and seering irons, to grace your dining room,

Where for variety, instead of Armes Shall hang so many Bottles and old Pouches: Abroad his rotten sheep will raise a sum To build, and purchase Towns; you'l learn a trade too Of lying in the Sun, and lousing of Your ragged Wardrope, besides the art Of whistling to the dog that barks again To help a Consort; these are precious things; And then the beauteous Paragon your wife With her Straw-Hat and Linsey-Wolsey robe, A Peticoat has serv'd her twelve May daies, Besides the Feasts of jegging about May-Poles, Is such a treasure?

Phil.

If you consider Sir how great a vertue Lies hid under so mean a veil; shall I Despise a Diamond 'cause it comes not in A golden Casket: all which the Poets faign Was extant in Astrea fled, will seem But as one drop unto the Sea, if my Sweet Arismena's vertues be but weighed.

Cleob.

And this you praise so much, shall be your sole Patrimony.

Phil.

Sir, your pleasure.

Cleob.

A goodly Patrimony: Vertue will buy Lordships, and stock your grounds, maintain the off-spring Of your admired choice; yes, and at length Leave something to your Noble Family.

Phil.

Much wealth consists Sir in the enjoying A vertuous Wife: admit you gave me to A woman with a Golden Mine, whose vast And unexhausted intrails can scarce Be fathom'd, yet she may be a Strumpet Sir, And so defile your unadulterate Race. Will bags heap'd with coyn restore chast blood Into those sinfull veins? I know't will serve As Panders to corrupt your Noble Stock; Oh think on that, and tell me if my choice Deserve your scorn?

Cleob.

If you can finde estate And riches to her comeliness, and create A Noble blood to fill her bright transparent veins, I may consent.

Phil.

The grounds we walk in Sir, and what your eye In flowry meads may see abroad, are hers: She has a thriving father, unto whom She is sole childe; these things I grant hold no Proportion to your estate, and yet A less may bring content, but where she comes To crown all this; what can be an addition To my felicity? Pray Sir be not cruel, But give consent.

Cleob.

Thou mention'st only shadows, And art in love with baseness, leave this folly, And think not of her.

Phi.

Bid me Sir not live, And it will be much easier to obey you; But while I have my breath, and use my reason, I must be Arismena's Votary.

Cleob.

You must?

Phi.

My heart's compell'd.

Cleob.

'Twill break that heart when you finde want and force to turn a Shepherd.

Phil.

'Tis a pleasant change.

Cleob.

So, so, I here cast off The relation of a Father, thou art no more My son, I will adopt a stranger, and He shall have all, my care meant thine.

Phi.

You are Unmercifull: think Sir that once your self Did love, and I have heard you tell a story Something like mine, how much unpossible You found it to withdraw your heart from one Inferiour in Blood, and Fortune too.

Cleob.

But Sir, I was my self, And had no father to offend.

Phi.

The Act Was still the same.

Cleob.

Still arguing? no more, I banish thee my sight, and what is mine. Be absent from my thoughts, and know I can Leave off to be a Father, when my Son Shall cease his duty to my care.

Phil.

You might Have given me a gentle doom, but since You banish me your presence, I must go To be repair'd in Arismena's smiles, And there intomb your frowns: Yet let me beg Your blessing first, which shall while you deny me The benefit of what you have, to me Serve as a Patrimony.

Cleob.

You hav't.

Phil.

Thanks worthy Sir, for now I'le strip my self Of these mis-seeming weeds, the Shepherds green Shall cloath Philaritus, nor can it make Him poor, if Arismena smiles. The rich Have wakefull nights, whilst the poor mans Turfe Begets a peacefull sleep, in which they're blest From frigid fears all day, at night with rest.

Exit.

Cleob.

He's gone: Has Loves inflamed dart then pierced Past all recovery? I do pity him, But must not shew't; if there be any means That time or art can shew me to reduce him, I'le study it.

ACT. 1. SCEN. 4.

Enter Bracheus.

BRa.

Good day Cleobulus: You do my field a grace to take the ayr in't:

Cleob.

Oh! are you come? D'ye hear? you have a Daughter.

Bra.

I hope I have.

Cleob.

A fair one too.

Bra.

She's a prety Sun-burnt wench.

Cleob.

What Portion will you give with her?

Bra.

Why Sir, she has a Portion.

Cleob.

Say y' so? Pray let me know the sum, happ'ly I may Graft her in a Family of Honor Sir.

Brach.

Excuse me then, good Sir, if I appear Too great a praiser of my own, she has An honest minde, and that some men accompt. A Portion Sir, it is not found in all Her Sex, if stories may be credited: She's young, and in my eyes fair, I dare yet Believe 'em, she's handsome, and she can Pray too, and spend not all the morn to dress her.

Cleob.

's this all her Portion?

Brach.

If I do like the man would be her Husband, I can give Acres too, and many Flocks Of sheep.

Cleob.

And will that make her in your judgement A fitting match for my Philaritus?

Brach.

I do not say it will.

Cleob.

Why then is she in love with him?

Brach.

Why? is Philaritus in love with Arismena?

Cleob.

I, and not without your knowledge too, you have By base temptations and devises wrought him To affect her; but I'le cross all your plots.

Brach.

Have I contriv'd the ruine of your Son, And basely wrought him to affect my Daughter? I tell you Sir, I wisht both good to you and him, But know I scorn as much your Son Should marry with Arismena, as you Can hate Philaritus for loving her.

Cleob.

Out Beggar, know that if my Son Philaritus Doth marry Arismena, I will throw him Quite from my blessing, from my state, from all, And smile to see the ruine of you all.

Cleobulus offers to go forth.

Bra.

Pray stay, and hear what I resolve, if my Daughter do marry, nay but entertain A good thought of your Son, rich as you are, I'le turn her out of doors without my blessing, And not relieve her, though at point to starve.

I fear you not, nor your estate, I shall Live in despite of your so generous blood, Yes, and live honestly, which you rich men do not. Get off my ground.

Cleob.

So, so, your goodly ground.

Exit Cleobulus.

Bra.

I'm vext, but he shall finde e're I ha done, My Daughter is too good for his proud Son.

Exit.

ACT. 1. SCEN. 5.

Enter Lariscus, Castarina.

LAr.

They're gone again, and we may take this walk Without the fear of spies; but you delay To satisfie my urgings with discourse Of that must be remov,d, before my wishes Can meet their happinesse.

Cast.

The memory Of banisht Paromet my Father wounds Each thought I vary. If your Unkles power Could make his doom reverst—

Lar.

If we might own The knowledge where he is.

Cast.

Yet he hath being, For else some vision would have taught my dreams, Both how, and where he dy'd, till he's restor'd, My vows have seal'd my resolution To live a Maid, and not till then Lariscus Must hope for Castarina. So adieu.

Exit.

Lar.

You have pronounc'd my sentence worse then death, My torments will be lingring. Paromet, If living, is not to be found, if dead, All my desires must lose their ends. But stay, Jealousie prompts me to suspect she mocks me: I'le to the Oracle, my doubts shall be Quickly resolv'd from its Divinity.

Exit.

ACT. 2.

SCENA 1.

Sylvia discovered in her Bower singing.

The Song.

Come Shepherds come, impale your brows With Garlands of the choicest flowers The time allows. Come Nymphs deckt in your dangling hair, And unto Sylvia's shady Bowers With hast repair: Where you shall see chast Turtles play, And Nightingales make lasting May, As if old Time his youthfull minde, To one delightful season had confin'd.

Enter Shepherds and Shepherdesses.

1 Shep.

What Musick's this doth reach our ears? Which sounds like that made by the Sphears, And so affects the eager sence, 'Tis ravisht with its excellence.

2 Shep.

The ayr doth smell of Indian spice, Or that the sences stupifies, Which by Arabian winds is spread From the ashes of a Phoenix dead. Whence is this wonder.

3 Shep.

See, see, where The lovely Goddess doth appear: Fair Sylvia, she that orders how Before Pans Altars we should bow, And for propition every year Of the choice fleese our sheep do bear: Pay thankfull Sacrifice, that he May keep our flocks from danger free. Instruct us Goddess what's thy will,

Sylv.

Upon this leavy wood-crown'd hill, I do invite you to Pans feast, Where each shall be a welcome Guest.

Then to the musique of my voice, Move gently on each with his choice, But so that no malicious eye See ought to task your modesty; For your delights must alway be Attended on by chastity.

Dance.

Sylv.

'Tis time the Sacrifice begin, Devotion must be done within; Which done; you may of Ceres tast, And Bacchus gifts, but make no wast: For oft where plenty injur'd stands, The bounteous Gods do shut their hands: The snowy fleeces you have shorn, And cropt the golden ears of corn; Lyaeus blood is prest and put Into the safe preserving Butt: There when the cold and blustring ayr Invites you from the Plains, (yet fair) To take warm shelters, that may keep Your selves in health, and ek your sheep. Will into your numb'd limbs inspire An active and preserving fire; Let your expressions then be free, And gently moving follow me

Ascends to her Bower singing. She sings.

On Shepherds on, wee'l Sacrifice Those spotless Lambs we prize At h••ghest rate, for Pan doth ke••p From harm our scatt'ring sheep: And hath deserved For to be served With those ye do esteem the best Amongst the flock, as fittest for his feast. Come Ʋirgins, bring your garlands here, And hang them every where: Then let his Altars be o'respread

With Roses fresh and red; Burn Gums and Spice, Rich Sacrifice. The Gods so bounteous are, ye know Ye mortals cannot pay them what ye owe.

ACT. 2. SCEN. 2.

Enter Philaritus like a Shepherd.

PHil.

Here's harmlesse mirth; o 'tis a happinesse To be in such sweet company! who would Not forsake all the riches of the world For one he lov'd? Did she but live as pure As are those souls contain'd in Shepherds weeds. Oh Love! what man hath power to resist Thy piercing darts, which like a fatal lightning Hurt not the skin nor flesh, yet wound the heart? I that this morning was my Fathers joy, The sole hope of his age and fortune, am Become a stranger to his family; By him exil'd, and thrown from all his cares; I scarcely in this habit know my self, Yet I am happy in't, and shall be happier, If Arismena, for whose sake I suffer, Smile on the change, she's here, and with her.

Enter Arismena and Castarina.

Her fair Companion Castarina; I'le Obscure my self, and listen to their talk.

Philatitus creeps behind a Bush.

ACT. 2. SCEN. 3:

CAst.

Indeed Arismena I must chide you for't, 'Cause you are fair, indeed the fairest Shepherdesse In all Arcadia, must that make you cruel? That Beauty would become you more, if you Would shew you had a heart like other Nymphs; Or if you cannot love, you need not scorn

Those that express their service.

Aris.

Thou art foolish, I do 'em Justice; should I smile upon Their passions, and pity 'em, or but nourish Their folly, they would more afflict themselves, And trouble me; I give 'em soon their answer, Tell 'em what they shall trust to, that they may not Languish in expectation.

Cast.

Well, you have a heart—

Aris.

Yes, I feel it beat, but 'tis not yet Infected with that mischief you call Love, Nor I hope sha'not; but if Virgins lov'd Themselves, they would place a better guard about Their bosomes, and preserve their innocent freedome, And not let every flattery betray 'em. Give up their liberty for a song or sigh Of any whining Lover.

Cast.

Do you think That no man can deserve your love?

Aris.

I ne're Examine their deserts, that may endanger me, They'r all alike to me that court my favour.

Arismena sings.

1

Now fie on Love, it ill befits, Or man or woman know it, Love was not meant for people in their wits, And they that fondly shew it. Betray their too much feather'd brains, And shall have only Bedlam for their pains.

2

To love, is to distract my sleep, And waking, to wear fetters, To love, is but to go to School to weep, I'le leave it for my betters. If single love be such a curse, To marry, is to make it ten times worse.

Cast.

Come Arismena, you in vain do hide Yourself from me, I see through your disguize

'Tis prety well dissembled, but I know Your heart is not so empty as you speak it, I know you love—

Aris.

Whom prithee?

Cast.

Nay, he does Preserve you too, were you more fair, and to That beauty had a soul above your Sex, You know Philaritus.

Aris.

Ha, ha, ha!

Cast.

A Gentleman, Heir to Cleobulus, but his Fortune is The least addition, he is Fames darling, And one whose service is an heaven to you Being but a Shepherdess.

Aris.

But a Shepherdess! Why Castarina, I do value my Being a Shepherdess above all his hopes And fortunes, nor should change that honest title, For all the honors of the Court, but, 'cause It seems thou hast opinion that I love him, I'le clear my heart to thee, and hold it truth What I affirme: 'tis true Philaritus Is a desertfull Gentleman, and hath made Expresse signes of his dear affection to me; But by Diana's self, he is to me In point of Love, no more then he that is The rudest Shepherd of the Plain.

Cast.

No more; I do believe you, and rejoyce to hear it, For in her heart poor Castarina loves him, Though he knew it not.

Philaritus comes from the Bush.

Aris.

Who's that? Hath not Some Shepherd overheard us?

Phil.

Yes, but one That shall take no delight to publish what Concerns his own misfortune.

Aris.

Is not this Philaritus?

Cast.

Turn'd Shepherd for your sake: How every garb doth become him?

Phil.

Do not Fly me sweet Arismena, for I bring No danger to your person, sooner death With torture should let fall his strings upon My heart, then once Philaritus should bring A thought that should displease fair Arismena?

Aris.

What is your will Sir, for I now have but Short time for stay; and if your businesse be No other then you late propounded to me, You need not a repetition, Unlesse you take delight to hear me say, I cannot love?

Phil.

Why then I cannot live.

Aris.

Yes, many a fair day, and enjoy a love Of far more worth then Arismena is, A foolish Shepherdesse.

Phil.

He must not be A man, and hold his life long, that should dare To speak that language.

Aris.

Well Sir, is this all Th' affairs with me, the minutes call me hence.

Philaritus and Arismena talk aside.

Cast.

Poor Caftarina, in what plight art thou To see the treasure of thy heart slide from thee, And powre it self into anothers Bosome: She is compos'd of tyranny; I should not Be so hard-hearted. would Philaritus Direct his passions hither. Oh my Fate!

Aris.

Indeed Philaritus I cannot help All this, I'm not your Fathers Governour, 'Tis but your disodedience, you may Recover him again, if you will take My counsel, and throw off this foolish love; Your Father's wise, and I am of his minde Partly; you take a course to lose your self: And where you urge the penance you are willing To undergo for love of me, I answer,

As you cannot resist what love compells you to, I cannot help that I am not in love, It is your fate to have too much, and I Too little love, all this must be obey'd.

Cast.

Steel break his heart, let me advise you Sir Be not too much dejected, this is but A short liv'd humour, I dare prophesie You may be happy in your affection.

Phil.

Make not my wound ridiculous I pray By flatt'ring me with hope; she is all marble.

Aris.

Come Castarina; stay, is not that Gracculus?

ACT. 2. SCEN. 4.

Enter Gracculus.

GRac.

I'm glad I have you, oh Mistress.

Aris.

What's the matter?

Grac.

Feel here, and here, and indeed every where.

Aris.

Hast thou met with a Satire, thou art frighted?

Grac.

Worse, worse, the devil would not have Put me into this sweat.

Casta.

Prethee speak, Why art thou so distracted?

Aris.

He bleeds too.

Grac.

'Twould make you mad to be us'd as I ha' bin, but that's Not all; oh Mistress, your Father and my Master,

Aris.

Ah! What of him? is he sick?

Grac.

No, no; worse, worse▪

Casta.

Is he dead?

Grac.

Worse, worse, an he had been dead my head had not been broke, and my bones made powder in my skin, with his Sheephook.

Phil.

What's the wonder?

Aris.

Speak the worst:

Grac.

Why then he is possest

Aris.

With an evill Spirit?

Grac.

Yes the devil is in him I think, he came home in such a fury, and has beaten us all round, the poor Whelp in the Chim∣ney Corner for offering but to open his jaws, being newly waked

out of his dream with his thundring, and his brains beaten out, which the Cat perceiving, run mad out of the top of the Chim∣ney: The first word he said was, Arismena, Arismena, and be∣cause you appear'd not, the next thing was a blow, this blood can witnesse. I could scarce recover my tongue to tell him you were not within, but after half a dozen more knocks and kicks one with another, for I was not to choose, bad me run in the de∣vils name and fetch you, and presently, or go hang my self; ima∣gine I was glad to be out of his reach, and with as much hast as my bruises would allow, I have sought you up and down, now I have found you, pray come home, and know his meaning, I dare not appear without you, I must choose my tree else. Oh my shoulders! I think I were best hang my self presently to be out of my pain.

Aris.

'Tis very staange, but Castarina come, Nay, thou shalt bear me company, and help To calm his passions. Farewell Philaritus.

Exeunt, all but Philar.

Phil.

That word carries some comfort yet; Oh may Blessings reward thy tongue for't; and yet 'tis, If I remember, but the common word At parting. Farewell, something it contain'd Once, but 'tis now grown empty, and no wish Of happiness: Was ever man thus lost I'th' labyrinth of Love, to Court my Mistress A flinty hearted woman? Oh my Stars! You were ungentle to design me such A miserable fate, to affect, where I am Scorn'd, and have no power to withdraw My heart from ruine; death were an easie change: Why, I am in the way, it must needs break My heart at last, I must once die, and 'tis Better to die in love then otherwise.

Exit.

ACT. 2. SCEN. 5.

Enter Lariscus.

LAr.

When by the current of yon' Christall stream I sate me down, a gentle slumber clos'd These wearied eyes▪ and dreams transforming love, Made beauty seem imperfect in her self, For then, oh then, sad thoughts disturb'd my mind; I sigh't forth that, which in my knowing sense Was Heresie to think; so pure I know Was Castarina's love, that to misdoubt, Were breach of faith, and yet such fancies did Arise within my troubled brain, I know Not what to hope, or doubt. O fancy! Thou works't too much upon my nature, and I Am too too credulous of dreams; yet pass Thou ill suspitions of my love, they shan't Disturb my rest, which like to healthfull blood Shall run in all my veins, and by my hopes Create a new establisht peace, which shall Extinguish fearfull thoughts, as Lucifer Exhales the grosser vapours from the earth. Then till Apollo's Oracle propounds More cause of fear, I'le hope the best;

Soft Musique within.

this sweet Harmony tells me, I'm neer the sacred place Which will resolve my doubts: And see! the Temple Doors yeeld me a free access unto his Throne; Yet I'le forbear to speak, till he have ceas'd His Musique on his charming Lyre.

A Scene discovered, whereiin Apollo is seen playing on his Harp, and two Sybils singing. Apollo falls from his former tone, and plays an Ayr, to which the Sybils sing.

ACTUS 2. SCEN. 6.

The Song.

WE to thy Harp Apollo sing, Whil'st others to thy Altars bring Their humble prayers For length of daies: Or else for knowledge of their Fates, Which by their prayers thou renovates, And dost renue Not as their due, But as their worth, incites thy love To shower thy blessings from above.

Laris.

He kneels.

I am all wonder. Thou who dost all secrets know, Ʋouchsafe for to descend so low, As to resolve a doubt which springs From dreams, and such sad nightly things. Shall Castarina be my Love? Speak Apollo, and if she prove But kind unto my vowes, I swear I'le offer Incense every year, And oft my grateful thanks return, And Spices on thy Altars burn.

Apollo.

Thou shalt finde crosses in thy love, Yet time may make them blessings prove; For when the Ʋirgins o're her Hearse, Have plac't the Garland and sad verse, And bath'd the cold earth with their tears, Thy hope shall overcome thy fears. And till that she be dead, shall not Enjoy her love: Unty the Knot.

Apollo's Scene closes up.

Lar.

Be clearer Oracle, and leave me not In doubt: What! are your gates already shut Open but once again, and speak, although Your voice be death, let not my trembling soul Be tortur'd through despair, or else be griev'd By vain expecting of my joyes. Say great

Apollo, Is she mine?—Not a word. Art thou grown deaf unto our prayers; then here Begins my misery; and where I did Expect the clear unfolding of my doubts, There I perceive a Riddle.—I shall be Crost in my love, and yet from thence derive New blessings. Can effects spring from a cause 'Has difference in th' extream? When she is dead I shall enjoy her love. With what delight Can my flame meet her cold and uselesle earth? Or must I then form to my memory Her living shape, and with defire imbrace That Shadow, which my fancy now commands, And when I please gives me possession of. The jugling God makes pastime of my passions: But why do I prophane? great Power forgive me, 'Tis a just punishment; for being curious To know the mystery of Fate, I must Refer th' event to what is order'd by The high disposer of my destiny.

Exit.

ACT. 3.

SCEN. 1

Enter three Satires.

1

COme on my fellow Satires, we will be Still Masters of the Woods, and please our selves And our appetites, no matter though The foolish Shepherds rail upon us, let us Pursue our game, no Shepherdess shall scape 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Unless they wa•••• with stronger guard, and when Men come like Armies to destroy us, we Trust to our nimble feet, and leave them cursing, Because they ha' not wings to overtake us.

2

The Nymphs, because we are deform'd, contemn us, But if we take them at advantage, we Teach 'em repentance, and delight our selves Upon their rape; the last I grappl'd with, Was a delitious Thief.

3

Pursue your pleasures; Only I charge you, if in any walk Of yours, the beautifull Arismena Chance to appear, none touch her to offence; And lest your presence fright her, hast away, She must be mine, although I'lmost despair: That so much sweetnesse should affect a Monster, For I have 'gainst my nature courted her, Lain prostate at her feet, with sighs and tears Besought her to compassionate a heart That languish'd for a kisse, still she has scorn'd me, Next time I meet her at advantage, I Will satisfie my full desires upon her.

Omnes;

We will obey.

All other of her tribe Are free to you, but she must be my prey: Oh I am ravished but with the thought How sweet a piece of flesh I shall compell To serve my pleasure; not a thousand prayers Nor rivers of her tears shall quench my lust: Methinks I have her at imbrace already; We live to please our sence, and wo'd not change Our Goatish shapes with any soft humanity To court a female, and be made their fools, And die for love of any pievish Giglet.

2

Yet 'tis not much amisse to flatter them, If so they may be won.

3

Right, but if they Be obstinate indeed, use violence, And snatch your own delight from their fair Bosomes, And glory in't; when we have broke their Maiden-heads They'l serve a doting Shepherd. Come be frolique, And leap into a dance to practise our Activity, the place is most secure: Lustily Pipes; I am all fire methinks.

As the Satires are dancing, another Satire comes in, pulling Graculus by the heels, he crying.

Grac.

Oh good Mr. Satire! Ah! ah!

They continue their dance about him, pinching and kicking him; which done.

How came you by this fellow?

Grac.

He came not by me, but overtook me an't please you, a pox on his heels. Oh! what will become of me?

I, here's right, out of the frying pan into the fire. My Master has half thrasht me to death—

1

Your Master, what's your Mistresse?

Grac.

My Master is the Shepherd Brachius, Father of the fair Arismena.

1

Arismena, ha!

2

What shall we do with him?

3

Hang him upon the next tree,

Grac.

Ah! if you hang me, I shall never be my own man a∣gain: Ah!

2

Let's tear him to pieces,

4

Limb by limb,

3

Roast him, and eat him, Hee'l make a feast, the fool is fat.

Grac.

You'l never endure my flesh in your mouths Gentlemen; Ah!

2

What not yours?

Grac.

Alas I am not sweet, do not your worships smell me? 'tis rank within my lynings.

2

No, be advised by me, this fellow I have heard runs neigh∣ing after the Wenches, the first thing we do Let's geld him;

Omnes

agreed.

2

I have an excellent Whittle to cut His throat, or to carve him, Come Sirrah.

Grac.

D'ye hear sweet-fac'd Gentlemen, you talk of hang∣ing, I'le choose my Gallows, I, let me be trust up before you untrusse me, O that fashion let me die a man, and not a Capon! Oh misery! Alas I have nothing to speak on! Ah! ah! If ever I neighed after any Female, or beckoned, or whistled, but to Boptaile our Bitch, that helps me to look to our sheep, and kennells with me, which I hope is no offence; or flung so much

as a wanton eye upon any Cream-fac'd Shepherdesse in Arca∣dia, let me whipt to death with Nettles, or flea me alive: Oh courteous, hairy, hoary, Satyrical Gentlemen.

1

I have considered, stand off, and I'le pronounce his sentence.

2

You had better have been hang'd at first, as I wo'd had you.

3

Or roasted, flead, or any thing,—he'l pay you—.—

4

Or carv'd, as you were advis'd; he'l torture you, prepare to be seven years a dying.

Grac.

Oh! do, do what you please with me, I shall not need to make my will, or if I did, you wo' not let me go home to fetch what I would bestow upon you in Legacies, and to trust a∣ny of you to be my Executors, is to no purpose; you have fright∣ed me half dead already. Now, now.

1

Do you serve the fair Arismena?

Grac.

I ha' not serv'd out my time, would you would give me leave to deserve Indentures.

1

What will you do to save your life now?

Grac.

Do? why if it please you to command me, I will do a∣ny thing, oh! any thing, to please any of your friends here to give their consent, and be bound hand and foot, I'le cut their throats.

2. 3. 4.

Ha!

Grac.

If you be so contented.

1

Will you promise, nay swear to bring your Miftress to this place to morrow, pretending you have found out some Fountain or delightful Spring, or what other invention you can tempt her with, but let no body else come with her.

Grac.

She shall come by this hand, is that all? If I do not tice her hither, why carve me when you take me next, as that will not be long, if I perform not my Covenants, do what you will with me; we two will meet you here.

1

Not meet me, not a word of me, or any of my Companions.

Grac.

D'ye think I am such an Asse? what care I who meets, you'l do me no hurt.

2

Nor her, we'l only be merry, and dance a little.

Grac.

Nay use your pleasures, I'le bring her, or let me be gor'd to death with your Worships horns.

1

I'le trust thee, farewell, if you fail, look to't,

Exeunt.

Grac.

I must keep my oath, and bring her hither, or they'l

firk me when they catch me again: But she's my Mistress, what then? and may—thereby hangs a tale, hum! Why there's no great harm if they do but—and so let her go, she'l passe for a Maid a reasonable while after this letcherous Goat has a mind to her, no matter, I shall be thought innocent, and preserve my skin from their fangs by it.

I save my self, I'de give my Sister, Wife, And almost hang my self to save my life.

Exit.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 4.

Enter Bracheus, Arismena, and Castarina.

ARis.

Sir, be assur'd you have a Daughter, whose Happinesse consisteth more in being A subject to your will, then could she boast The mighty treasure of the Indian Mines.

Brac.

Say'st thou so Girle? 'tis well, very well said, And yet there's something in a corner of Thy eye, makes me suspect, dost weep?

Aris.

If any sorrow Sir appear in me, It is that you suspect me to dissemble. Indeed I speak with freedome of my heart, I never lov'd Philaritus, nor will.

Brac.

Nor will: how's that? not if I should command. How now? you go too far.

Aris.

Sir, you amaze me.

Brac.

I am amaz'd my self, and half distracted, But look you do not love him; if he have By any secret Love trick crept into Your heart, out with him, tear him out again Upon my blessing: 'Cause he's a Gentleman, Must we be trod upon? our souls are free And high as his: What, I am Bracheus still, And thou art Arismena still, my Daughter, Obedient I hope; ha! art thou not? And he is but Cleobulus, a man Of more estate, more dirt, and dunghill acres,

Wears richer cloaths, and feeds more daintily, Yet he's but flesh and blood, his Son too good To look on Arismena, threatned and cursed For loving thee, he sha' not need, he sha' not.

Aris.

Indeed he has often woo'd me Sir, and I As often have denied, for trust me Sir I cannot love at all yet, and 'twere strange If he should creep into my good opinion, And I not know on't: Willingly I would Not dream I lov'd him, but if waking we Joyn our affections, I must lose my reason.

Casta.

So, so, this makes for me, how it doth joy My heart to hear 'em both so peremptory?

Brac.

His Father told me ye had both chang'd hearts, Which was no small vexation, to hear My Daughter had bestowed her self without My knowledge and consent.

Aris.

Sooner should I Have thrown my self on some devouring Beast, Then yeeld my heart to proud Philaritus Without your will.

Brac.

I'ave found thee hitherto A dutifull child, and on the full assurance Of what thou speak'st is truth, I wish all blessings Be powr'd into thy lap Girle, and so I leave thee.

He offers to go, and comes back.

But if you play false play, and juggle with 'em, D'ye hear? I say no more, and yet I'le speak it, I'le turn thee graying with the Flock, and curse thee.

Aris.

Sir, my obedience shall deserve your blessing.

Brac.

Kneel down, and take it, and a kisse, go too, I'le not suspect thee now, my heart's unquiet, But 'twill I hope come to his own again. Farewell Castarina, you love my Daughter, Counsell her not to love Philaritus.

Exit.

Casta.

Most heartily, I hope she wont Sir.

Aris.

Now Castarina, am I worth your credit, Are you confirm'd Philaritus has no Engagement here.

Casta.

You told me so before.

ACT 3. SCEN. 5.

Enter Bracheus.

BRach.

Daughter, a word, my mind is chang'd, and I Consider if you do affect Philaritus It can be no dishonor; and his Father

Enter Philaritus, and over-hears.

Sayes he does love thee infinitely, besides He is a prety handsome, prety Gentleman.

Phil.

What do I hear? her Father speak such kind And loving language to Arismena Of lost Philaritus: oh happinesse!

Brac.

And he has had good breeding, he shall have A good estate, being his Fathers Heir.

Aris.

How's this? But Sir, you said his Father had Quite thrown him off for his affection To me.

Brac.

Indeed he threatned some such matter, But things may easily be reconcil'd, And he may be reduc'd to love him Girle When things are done, therefore be wise.

Aris.

Thus low, And lower in my heart, I speak my duty, You gave me life, but good Sir take't not from me E're you compell your Daughter 'gainst her heart To love and marry with Philaritus. Though other eyes and judgements give him all The praise a young man can deserve, to me He holds no substance, a meer Apparition; And so with my consent he vanishes.

Brac.

Again, again, let me imbrace my Girle To my own heart, it was but my desire To try thee again, I hate him and Cleobulus, And to the grave shall follow thee with more Comfort, then to his Marriage. Now farewell, Be constant Girle, and blesse thy aged Father.

Exit.

Casta.

He's strangely troubled.

Phil.

Oh my grieved soul!

Cast.

Ha! is't not Philaritus?

Aris.

Away, I wo' not stay to hear him speak.

Exit.

Cast.

You must alone then Arismena, for I cannot go so so

Phil.

She flies 〈◊〉〈◊〉; ••••ight; As I appear'd some ugly killing Serpent, Yet Castarina stayes. Pray was not that Fair Arismena that went hence? and yet You may be silent still, I know 'twas she; Sure I want eyes to look upon my self, And there is some deformity my sight Cannot discover; what think you, am I So strange a Monster?

Cast.

You are fair and comely In my opinion.

Phil.

You are charitable, Would Arismena thought so; and yet why Do I pursue my torment; if she scorn me, Why do I place her here, so neer my heart?

Cast.

Be wise Philaritus.

Phil.

You counsell well.

Cast.

And love, where you may finde your love rewarded.

Phil.

Sure there is none that can affect Philaritus; Why blush you Castarina?

Cast.

Would you could so easily read my heart.

Phil.

I have it, It may do me good, this is a gentle Shepherdesse, Forgive me heart if I dissemble with thee: Fair Shepherdess, you have been witness to My Loves sad story; and when Arismena Was cruell to my vows, you seem'd to bear A part of grief with me, and that deserves My thanks, I wo'd say love, if you accuse not My change too soon. She cruell hath despis'd me, And Justice bids me punish her, and blesse My self, by off'ring to your care my heart.

Cast.

Philaritus doth mock poor Castarina.

Phil.

She comes too fast upon me, yet I know not,

Arismena enters.

A woman's heart is fathomlesse, she's return'd.

If you sweet Castarina smile upon me I'le quickly bury Arismena's frownes In those fayre Eyes.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 6.

ARis.

What do I see and hear! So soon turn'd Votatrie to Castarina Oh man where is thy faith! yet I deserve it My heart's too great to speak to him, I finde A mutinie in my thoughts, who's this Lariscus.

Enter Lariscus.

The Shepheard that affecteth Castarina The object will as little please his Eyes For she is taken with Philaritus.

Kisse and embrace.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 7.

LAr.

Oh cruell Castarina! Is this th' reward of all my loving service? This sight afflicts me, is Philaritus My rivall? and by destiny appointed The barr to all my hopes, If I mistake not Report speaks his devotion directed Only to Arismena, She's here too A witnesse of his falshood. How do you Affect their Actions Arismena?

Aris.

You. Are not too much delighted I imagine, They are both false, Oh for revenge! I'le do't Why should we be so tame? Philaritus Is perjur'd.

Lar.

Castarina is too cruell.

Aris.

Be rul'd by me and punish 'em.

Lar.

They observe us.

Aris.

It shall but vex their Eyes, Let us seeme loving.

Phil.

Lariscus and Arismena they embrace.

Cast.

And so let us.

Phil.

By Jove, playes with his hayre, He kisses her, was I thus scorn'd for him I am not well Good Castarina leave me.

Arismena and Lariscus pass by hand embracing Exeunt.

Cast.

Not well, defend good Heaven! where is your paine?

Phil.

Here at my heart.

Cast.

At your heart.

Phil.

Nay then I shall finde you will be another Disease to me, pray have me.

Cast.

How's this poor Castarina.

Exit.

Phil.

Me thinks all this might have an easie cure A little blood dram'd from the heart would doe it And then I am reveng'd, no I am then A greater triumph to her pride, no woman Is worth our smallest part of life, and man Betrayes a Cowardize for a wantons scorn To practise wounds upon himselfe; yet I Must not be altogether tame and suffer There is a subject fit for my revenge Lariscus must not long enjoy his breath Or I must sacrifice my selfe to death.

Exit.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 8.

Enter Lariscus with a paper in his hand.

LAr.

'Tis more then I expected, for I meant To take revenge on thee Philaritus.

Lariscus.

The injury done me by thy ambition and courtship of Arismena is no way to be pardoned, if thou hast any spirit meet me at Apollo's Oake this afternoone, where I will either punish thy insolence, or with my owne blood write my selfe

Arismena's sacrifice. Philaritus.

Had I not known the faire Castarina. Or thy accomplsh't vertues, this had bin A cause sufficient to enflame my blood

But as thou art the subject of my thoughts This will encrease my zealous flame, and whil'st Philaritus thinks Arismena steels My poynt, tis thou adds vigour to my arme Faire Castarina's written here and in Each wound I make sweet Castarina shall Be read. Yet stay! Coole thy strong passions harte Let not fond Love be blinde, use reason ere Thou fight'st and weigh what in a woman can Deserve a wound. Why Castarina's faire, And seems to have a Soul above her Sex That may enflame my heart. Oh no! She may But seem a glorious Star, and then in what A case is poor Lariscus in when he Shall wound Philaritus and finde his Love Beneath his thoughts 'twould be a Corrasive Beyond a Cure, and does already make Me hinge like to a doubtfull needle drawn Betwixt two Loadstones, which at once inclines To both and neither; Yet vanish all such thoughts They are most false be then reveng'd Lariscus And meet the fury of thy enemies speare Whose flatteries have destroy'd thy hope in feare, Now cruell Castarina if I dye There is an end of Lovers miserie.

Exit drawing the Challenge.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 9.

Castarina.

Sola.

I Have discovered his intention To court my beauty, that he might appear In his neglect, to Arismena; more Desir'd by her; 'Tis our generall humor, And I my selfe would now enjoy Lariscus Because he now neglects me. But my feares Will not allow me to believe it possible Let it be ordered then by Providence

And Time, Whats here contayned, ah! a Challenge

She takes up the Challenge.

Sent from Philaritus unto Lariscus. Oh my Stars happy influence! they have made me The means for bles't prevention of their ruines 'Twixt whom their owne dissembling hath begot A mutuall jealousie. I must be suddaine Not dally with occasion! 'Tis our Fate To increase our loves by others seeming hate.

Exit.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 10.

Enter Graculus and Arismena.

ARis.

This place will yeild an Eccho to thy voyce, Come therefore Graculus, Let's passe the time More pleasantly, you have a merry Song I know.

Grac.

Truth Mistris, you know my Songs they are rude, Yet such as Nature, not Art, hath taught me I'le power into your eares.

Graculus sings.

1.

I am in love and canot wooe Heigho! Heigho! what shall I doe, I gape and sigh and sometimes weepe For Phillis that my heart doth keepe.

2

I love her haire and forehead high Then am I taken with her eye, Her cheeke I doe commend for gay But then her nose hang's in my way.

3

Her lipps I praise but then steps in Her white and pretty dimpled chinn, But there her neck I doe behold Fit to be hung with chaines of Gold.

4

Her breast's are soft as any downe Beneath which lies her Maiden Towne,

So strong and fortified within In vaine I hope to take it in.

Aris.

Excellently sung Graculus.

Grac.

Nay I have a voyce, and had not my Masters beating and a cruell fright stuck by me, I had sung most melodiously.

Aris.

What fright's this you talke of?

O Mistress about this place, I, here about a Satyre met me, and so misused me, as had I not been more then man I could nere have liv'd, the very signes of their nipping me are like embroide∣ry on my flesh, Oh! doe not touch me 'tis a paine to think on them.

Satyre appearing, Exit Graculus.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 11.

SAt.

I seaze you cruel faire one; but from those Lipps Will force no amorous Kisse, if your pure soule Denies me one, I will but aspire So high as to salute your hand, and if With freedome you shall grant me that, I'le boast How much I am oblig'd.

Aris.

Dare not to touch.

He flyes from her.

Sat.

See brightfull Star, your voyce has shrunk me back And I lie prostrate at your feet, nor from the Earth Will raise my trembling joynts, till that clear voyce Which struck me down shall raise me from the ground And by your genuine voyce create my soule As pure from dregs of Earth, as yours.

Aris.

'Tis well This language argues more then what you seeme And could almost intice me to beleive I might shake off the feare, which doth arise From sight of your grim shape, yet still those looks Those ravenous looks affright my heart, and I cannot be safe midst such deformity.

Sat.

O stay! Let not this outward shape amaze Your brighter selfe; The minde that's faire may well Excuse what Nature hath misshap't. Grant that Shee had bestow'd as comely parts upon

This outward forme as ere Narciscus had Yet if the minde had bin mishap'd the man Would (like some curious peice of Marble) seeme A glorious forme, and wo'nt the rich endowments Of the inward man; Vertue and wit, those parts Which make him different from a moving statue.

Aris.

Rise from the moyst bedewing Earth, your tongue Has won so much, that I'le admit your touch My hand.

Sat.

Which with Devotion I will Kisse.

Aris.

So you'l wish no more.

Sat.

One touch upon that Lip And I have done.

Aris.

I grant so you'l be gone.

Sat.

Not yet, this Kisse has ravisht me, and now You have betraied your selfe, it had bin easie To give ore when I was conquer'd by your speech But now I have tast those sweets which hangs upon Your Lips, you may expect the day and night As soone should meet as I not Kisse againe

Aris.

O I'm undone.

Sat.

No faire one I can leave Immodest Kisse, and love intirely love Those noble parts that grace thy better selfe What though thou seestt me rude? yet in this shape There is a soule can honour thee, and I Must now imbrace thee as my Joy.

Aris.

Defend Me Powers.

Sat.

From what?

Aris.

From Ravishing.

Sat.

None means So bad, or ill a deed; the gentile breath Which from the Phoenix nest perfumes The rosie morn, Is not more chast then I The Idolater adoreth not his Idol With greater reverence then I will you.

Aris.

Horror!

Sat.

Why Thus passionate? No mortall payes Devotion With greater zeal unto his private Larr Then I my duty faire to you.

Aris.

I dare not hear.

She offers to go.

Sat.

You must and shall, for if you do not turn Your frowns to smiles, I shall but force that from Your brest which might be freely gain'd.

Aris.

Deliver Gods!

Sat.

By all you name you stir not hence, the flame that's kind∣led here will not be so supprest

Either consent to be my mate, or from Your bosome I will pluck my own delights.

Aris.

O helpe. Deliver Stars from such a cursed fate!

Sat.

Nay then I must be bold and force you render up Your cold Virginity unto my greedy lust.

As the Satyre is taking up Arismena, Enters Phila∣ritus & wounds him: the Sa∣tyr lies on the Stage as dead.

Assist you Powers assist.

ACT. 3. SCEN. 12.

Enter Philaritus, who wounds the Satyre.

PHil.

Curst be thy letchrous soule, may all thy stock Perish in thee

Sat.

Oh I am slaine.

He falls.

Phil.

Why stand you trembling? wipe all palenes from Your cheeks, here's none to fright you here But poore Philaritus, and in his soule You may repose your peacefull rest, he which Has ventur'd thus, will think no blood his own If it be kept from being spilt, when he May spend it in your service.

Aris.

You have Sir Engag'd me beyond my desert, and though Arismena be a woman and can repay Nought but her thanks, yet those shall be so oft

And justly paid to you, that all the world Shall know my heart is not ungratefull For so great a favour.

Phil.

You may be pleas'd Arismena to finde a thing more gratefull Then formall thanks, if you'l return your love Twill make me happie, and renew a life For trust me I doe wonder how I live Without your resignation of my heart Which you have faire one, and I cannot last Unlesse you give it back

Aris.

I doe resigne it Most willingly. I claime no title in it.

Phil.

But yet you cannot for indeed my heart Is bound with yours, and unlesse you bestow Your own I must be voyd, no heart can be Encircled in this brest but yours.

Aris.

Why? you Would not have me pluck out my heart to have it swallowed.

Phil.

You're pleas'd to jeast, you know my Meaning, and if you will can add a joy To my sick soule

Aris.

You'l have me render then Love back for love, why that I cannot doe

Phil.

Why Arismena, why? have I deserv'd So ill that you should kill me for my faith And make another rich in your affection.

Aris.

Sure you are chang'd and this is but pretence Castarina is your love, and had you bin Lover of me, as you would seem, she had nere Bin courted by Philaritus.

Phil.

How like the Ivie hath my heart desir'd To shew by what embraces I would hold you I have no loving thought on other beauty You're life, and from your smiles I gaine My blisse.

Aris.

If then your blisse consists in me

I'm sorry that my eyes invite my heart To grant another suite, for trust me Sir I could wish (in the reqitance of this Last favour) that I could bestow my heart On you, which since I dare not doe I take My leave, and wish you rest for your own sake.

Phil.

Stay yet and hear me a few words, I know not How long I have to live, and rather then Be punisht thus with your continual scorne, I'le put on wings to meet death; but be sure My troubled spirit shall pursue thee living, And represent my passions, and not leave thee Till thou by such a cruelty as thy owne From him whom thou affectest best, shall suffer As I have done, and dye to meet me in The gloomy shades of lovers.

Aris.

Fare you well Sir, I'le think on't.

Exit Arismen:

Phil.

Why do'st not break thou foolish heart, but thou May be art destin'd for Lariscus sword. Death will be happinesse, I'le kisse that fate Rather then live the object of her hate.

Exit Philaritus.

Sat.

Mischiefe pursue you both, he wounded me, But not I hope to death, though I seem'd so I'le be reveng'd upon you both for this I fear I bleed too inward, If I die, My curses shall procure their Tragedie.

ACT. IV.

SCEN. I.

Enter Bracheus.

Brac.

HOw vaine unbridled youth is that's ore sway'd By giddy passion resolutely hazard For satisfaction of their triviall rage Their soules eternitie? Castarina Hath inform'd me that young Philaritus And Lariscus doe intend to venter Like Prodigal gamesters, at one cast, the stock

Of both their live and fortunes: Prevention Must be soone appli'd, or their too much beat May prove their utter ruine; and though Cleobulus Count me the object of his scorne, my care shall give him notice of their wilde intents.

Enter Coridon.

Good day to you Sir, may I desire you would Let your Master know I'de speak with wit him.

Corrid.

I shall.

Exit.

Brac.

Perhaps Cleobulus, whose scrupulous soule Is apt to make a question of my faith May judge this act a flattery, a pretence Of seeming frendship that with more safety Philaritus may obtaine his desire Of Arismena, then to hazard him to the danger of Lariscus spear. But these are vaine surmises; my intents Are plaine and verteous, and good actions ever How ere miscontrived carries their reward Still with themselves.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 2.

Enter Cleobulus.

Cleob.

Would you with me?

Brac.

Yes.

Cleob.

Speak your intents.

Brac.

Philaritus—

Cleob.

Shall not injoy your daughter.

Brac.

'Tis not my suite.

Cleob.

Say y'so Sir, I shall with far more patience hear you.

Brac.

Briefly thus I am inform'd, and tis a serious truth Your sonne Philaritus (whose noble soule Cannot indure a Rivall in his Love) Hath sent a Challenge to Lariscus O Sir think what deserved pitty 'twill excite

In every honest bosome, that two such plants Should be cut off from earth ere their full growth As by a violent Tempest, So, or one Or both are like to perish, for this morne They are resolv'd to try their skill at Armes.

Cleob.

Which you would have me to prevent?

Brac.

It is your part.

Cleob.

Ah, Ah, Ah; You are mistaken then, for well I finde Your aime, and see you do contrive this plot To win me to consent Philaritus Should marry Arismena; but you are too Too young to cheat a Fox, and therefore Ought to take more subtiler wayes then this Why you contemn'd my Sonne but now, and if That rage sprang from the heart, you would be glad He should receive the danger you pretend.

Brac.

My rage was grounded here, and know right Sir I cannot, neither will I now repent What then my pasfion utter'd, I have more Of man within me, yet see here's the Challenge Sent from Castarina, which I will keepe Though eminent mischiefe follow; I d little thought This discovery of your Sons danger wo'd Have merited this entertainment. So your best fate protect you.

Exit.

Cleob.

May be That Bracheus is noble in his thoughts And truly doth intend the good of young Philaritus: Why should he else affirme Hee has the the challenge? and means nothing else But friendship with Cleobulus? I was Too hasty in my speech, and therefore will Send for him back; within there tell Bracheus I'd speak with him.

Enter Coridon.

Cor.

I shall Sir.

Exit.

Cleob.

If now

I see the Challenge, I shall soon perceive Whether it be Philaritus his hand Or no, and then I soon shall finde his plot.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 3.

Enter Bracheus.

Brac.

Did you send for me?

Cleob.

I would Acknowledge that I was too rash for to Suspect your goodnesse ere I had a cause Sufficient for my ground, and therefore would—

Brac.

Have me produce the reasons which occasion'd My former speech to you.

Cleob.

Tis my ambition.

Brac.

Nay since you urge my anger, you shall know I slight as much your fury as your love: Nor shall you by entreaties win me to Prevent the mention'd danger; He who can Be so unjust as to misdoubt my truth, Shall perish in his ignorance, before A sillable I utter shall deliver Him from his suddaine ruine.

Cleob.

I pray be'nt so resolute, I shall be diligent unto your speech, And weigh each word that issues from your tongue, And study how to shew my selfe your friend.

Brac.

My rage is not malitious, like a spark Of fire by steel inforc'd out of a flint, It is no sooner kindled, but extinct. This paper will inform you all.

He gives him a paper.

Cleob.

Tis so, my Son has challenged Lariscus Into the field. O Fate!

Brac.

Fear not, If you Have but a forward will to act what I Shall counsell, doubt not, your affaires shall meet A fortunate Issue.

Cleob.

O how I pray!

Brac.

Your eare.

They whisper.

Cleob.

You councell well, you and my better Fate, And by this means will cure their bloody hate.

Exeunt.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 4.

Enter Satyre Solus.

Sat.

The paine of my late wound hath rob'd my spirits Of strength and use: the blood that won't to dance Through the concaves of my veines, now moves With a dull beating in my quiet pulses, And I begin to faint. Thou gentle earth Allow me what sweet comfort rest affords, And let thy verdant bosome be my bed.

He lyes down.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 5.

Enter Graculus.

Grac.

I am a rogue and deserve hanging for betraying my poor Mistresse: She's tossed and tumbled by this time: Let me see.

Sat.

Oh!

Grac.

Thats not her voyce, ha! the Goats! the Satyrs! Where's my Mistresse, he has not eaten her I hope.

Sat.

Help me I am wounded.

Grac.

And if I did think so, I would be more familiar.

Sat.

I cannot goe, help I shall bleed to death.

Grac.

He's almost kild. First my letcherous friend Where's my Mistresse?

Sat.

She was rescu'd by a man has almost slaine me.

Grac.

Now I have a great minde to kill him outright, howe∣ver I will dominere

Where's your hurt?

Sat.

Here, oh! thou dost paine me.

Grac.

Would you have a Surgeon; you shall be hang'd first.

Sat.

Sweet friend assist me.

Grac.

Now I will make amends for all, and carry this Satyre home to our house, where we will whip him twice a day; and af∣ter the maides have gelded him, I will hang up in our chimney to dry for bacon. Sirrah you are no rascall, you deserve not to be firk'd and jerk'd and yerk'd: my dogg a mountaine, you are wilde, I'le tame you now I think on't, what if I cut out his eyes and then shew him upon market dayes to the Aradians where eve∣ry man and maide will give money to have a lash at him like a b••inde Bear.e What doe you think of a wench you pestiferous goat, you must be rutting, and no flesh serve you but my Mistriss, come I'le bring you to them shall coole your liver.

Sat.

Gently, oh gently, gentle Shepheard oh I shall dye.

Grac.

Not till we'ave done, you must have your carnallity, I was pincht and trod on, you dogs face, does your abominable worship remember? and threatn'd on perill of my life to pimpe for your bestiality, well there is no remedy you shall upon my back to the house of correction.

Sat.

Deare friend use mercy, I repent.

Grac.

Friend and mercy, Yes I will be your friend to help you to a dog whip, and mercy in abundance

I say.

As Graculus is taking him up, the Satyre takes him in his armes and car∣ries him away.

Grac.

Oh Mr. Satyre Gentile Mr. Goat, I did but jest.

Sat.

You shall be hang'd in earnest.

Grac.

Help, a Rape, Mudrer, Fellony, Oh! I am undone I shall be eaten up alive.

Exit.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 6.

Enter Philaritus and Lariscus with speares.

Phil.

I love thee yet Lariscus for thy boldnesse To meet an enemy and could wish thy error To 'ave bin unborn, but cannot bear an injury So great as to corrival my affection In beautious Arismena.

Lar.

Thy own tongue Betrayes a cause that makes thee worth my killing Thy guilt of flattering my Castarina.

Come fight, and let our courage meet and execute, Not talke.

Phii.

Revenge hath wings, thou needs not call it Upon thee with more hast.

They fight.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 7.

Enter Arismena and Castarina with Bowes and Arrowes.

Aris.

Hold.

Cast.

Stay.

Aris.

An other duell must be fought, this place Is ours.

Cast.

If Philaritus attempt A wound upon Lariscus, here I'le punish it with Arismena's death.

Aris.

And if Lariscus hurt Philaritus Within the bosome of Castarina I'le hide this killing Arrow: never look With wonder at us, you kill one another And send your foolish Ghosts to raile at us: No, rather let us execute, and save That cruelty upon our selves, you being Men that are troublesome to the world and us.

Phil.

Oh here, make me happy Arismena My breast will meet thy shaft.

Aris.

Stand faire.

Lar.

And mine Shall glory to be pierc'st by Castarina.

Cast:

Have at you then

Make as though they would shoot, but fling away their Bowes & imbrace.

Aris.

Thus doe I shoot a kisse.

Cast.

And thus I aime at thee.

Aris.

Pardon my dear Philaritus I have With too much tryall of thy love offended If not too late, here I resigne my heart In satisfaction, and am thine, without Affection to Lariscus, with whom I

Conspir'd to make thee think we lov'd each other Upon thy courtship unto Castarina, Who told me of your meeting, and contention Which now must dye in your embracing us.

Phil.

I am extas'd with joy.

Cast.

And am I welcome?

Lar.

To my heart.

Cast.

If all seconds were so carefull to Compound, there would not be so many slaine.

Aris.

Here we begin our joyes.

Phil.

May they last ever.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 8.

Enter Satyrs. Some seize upon the weapons, and others carry away Arismena and Castarina.

Aris.

Help!

Cast.

Helpe!

Phil.

Villains! Devils!

Sat.

You come upon your death.

Exeunt Satyrs.

Lar.

They have our spears.

Phil.

That I could look 'em dead, the slaves out fly The winde, they're gone, they're lost for ever, Our heaven but now discover'd, we are thrown To hell, and suffer torment above all The wretched souls endured.

Lar.

There's no persuing now, Let us collect and muster strength to be Reveng'd upon their goatish generation.

Phil.

Gods must persue the Ravishers, for mankinde Wants force; where shall I hide my cursed head?

Lar.

You sha'not grieve, nor curse alone while I Am partner in so great a miserie.

Exeunt.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 9.

Ener foure Satyrs.

1 Sat.

See those commands that I impos'd be strictly Kept, and least so much as but a noyse of their Complaint be heard, be sure you binde, and gagg Them both; why stay you thus? be quick, and not Lesse mercifull then poysoned Arrows from A Tartars bow.

Omnes.

We suddenly obey.

Exeunt.

1 Sat.

Its fit. Now will I glut my selfe, and in A full revenge tickle my spleen; O twill be Brave sport to winde these aged sirs in such A labyrinth, as their industrious care Shall more infold them in, then set them free. But see I talk, not execute; Delay Brings danger with't, and oft designes betray.

Exit.

ACT. 4. SCEN. 10.

Enter Philaritus and Lariscus.

Phil.

Tis strange these woods should be inhabited With store of Satyrs, yet we finde none of Their horrid Cells. There's no place that has scap't Our narrow search, though the sulphurious earth Hath breath'd forth all its ills, and hung its fogs To dark the Ayre, yet have we venturd through Their loathsome smells, to finde a Satyrs cave, But they are hid; some intelligencing Devil has told their sudden Fate, and help'd Them to some ayerie wings.

Lar.

Curse light on them! Had we bin of the femal sex, they wo'd Have shew'd themselves.

Phil.

Right.

Lar.

But now they fly us.

Phil.

Yet the lightnesse of

Their heels shan't free them from a deadfull Fate: We fall like lightning on their heads, and scorne To welcome rest, untill our spears have bath'd Their steely poynts within their murderous souls.

Lar.

I like thy resolution well.

Phil.

Who's here?

Enter Coridon.

Coridon the newes with thee?

Cor.

This will declare my coming

He gives him a letter.

Phil.

I wonder that my Father writes to me.

Lar.

Read and perhaps thou wilt not wonder.

Philaritus;

Since thou art charm'd with Arismena's beauty, and accounts nothing cordiall but her love; I cannot choose but praise thy constancy, and wish to see thee incircled in Arismena's armes; Her Father hopes as much, who with me expects your present coming to my house.

Your Father Cleobulus.

Phil.

This Phisick comes too late, this kindnesse should Have blest your Son before, read read Lariscus And tell me if my Fathers love be timely, O my accursed Stars, by whose black influence My Fate is poyson'd thus, that I could reach you To be aveng'd upon your golden heads, Which I would pluck from heaven, and bury in The earth, never to shine againe.

Lar.

Let me perswade in this extream to go And let me wait upon you to your Father, He's powerfull and may at his command Raise men enough to ransack all the woods And finde the caves where dwell these horrid Satyrs Whom we will torture for the Rape committed,

As they shall wish themselves in Hell to be Rid of our punishment: we must be active, And live to be reveng'd, not sigh away Our spirits thus.

Phil.

Thou dost advise me well, This may assist us to performe our duty To our abused faire ones, and revenge Their staine in part, but sure nothing can be Enough to recompence their cruelty.

ACT. V.

SCEN. 1.

Enter Cleobulus and Bracheus.

Cleob.

IT will rejoyce my Sonne Philaritus To finde such comfort in my Letter, which Speaks all my anger off, and full consent That he should Marry beautious Arismena.

Brac.

You writ that I was willing too.

Cleob.

I did. Good Bracheus now my friend, I did consider The errors of my passions, and with much Contention in my selfe at last resolv'd This way to merit pardon, you by this Have had a tryall of my Sonnes affection To your faire daughter.

Brac.

Sir you shall command What is in Bracheus power, I had a passion And old mans anger too, which your good nature Already hath forgiven.

Cleob.

You are perfect In what we have design'd, to perfect all Our joyes, and make a faire contentment swell In every bosome, stormes cannot last alwayes, The blackest night must have a day succeed it, And pleasures have enlargement in our heaart When we have suffered paine: I wonder that

My Sonne makes no more hast.

Brac.

Here's your servant.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 2.

Enter Coridon.

Cor.

Your Sonne my young Mr. is come Sir.

Cleob.

Alone: It was misfortune I forgot Lariscus in my Letter.

Cor.

He's come with him.

Cleob.

Excellent, then all things may be fortunate, You'l please to doe what we devis'd already To entertaine them.

Brac.

I'le about it instantly.

Exit.

Cleob.

So, so, a sudden change will much delight His care oppressed heart; he's here, my blessing,

Enter Philar: and Lariscus.

And then to you a welcome good Lariscus. Me thinks you weare a sadnesse in your browes, What sullen clouds disguise your Faces thus? It is a time of joy Philaritus, You read my Letter, and consent that you Should marry Arismena, and that Bracheus And I are friends. What sorrow?

ACT. 5. SCEN. 3.

Phil.

I prithee If thou hast strength Lariscus tell him what Sad chance hath rob'd our hearts of all delight For I shall faint ith' repetition.

Lar.

Your comfort comes too late Cleobulus.

Cleob.

Too late! why pray?

Phil.

I prithee speak the sad news in his eare, I dare not hear the sound: what thing is man? How like a leafe toss'd by the winde? he knows No certaine way. O love thou art concern'd To bear a part in our revenge, and if Thou bee'st a God, ayde two oppressed lovers

A gainst the lustfull Fiends have ravish'd all Our joyes and wealth away!

Cleob.

You fright me Sir, By Satyres snatcht away? and could you not Pursue 'em?

Lar.

They had first surpris'd our weapons With which they kept us back, whil'st two of their Black crew flew from us with the prey, Oh had you heard the cry of the wrong'd virgins!—

Phil.

Nay heaven did hear it too But had no thunder ready, not one shaft Of vengeance to throw upon the Ravishers. Justice is dead, or in a sleep, and we Poore mortalls pray and are not pittied.

Cleob.

Do yee know what then became of your two Mistris∣ses?

Phil.

I know faire Arismena cannot live After her bodies staine.

Cleob.

There came late to me A grave learned Gentleman, that has Great knowledge in the secret art of Magick, I will intreat his skill in this afaire, He'l tell us all the event: I'le to him my selfe, Stay here a while.

Exit.

Lar.

Though I expect there can Be nothing but more cause of sorrow for us, Let's hear what he can say, or shew.

Phil.

He may Direct us too, to order our revenge, But I suspect no Art can tell us where The poore things are.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 4.

Enter two servants, one of them a Magitian.

1 Ser.

My Mr: has prevail'd already with the Gentleman: Who holds it easie to discover all.

Lar.

Is this he?

Phil.

You are welcome Sir.

Mag.

Alas poore young men, their faces Carry too much of sorrow, but the Fates Must be obey'd, I am informd of your Desires, and I request none may be with us But these two, please you to depart, there is Some reason in my art Sir for your absence.

1 Ser.

Most willingly.

Exit.

Mag.

Sit down I pray, but stir not on your lives Nor speak to what you see; you must suppose What ere you see is not substantiall But ayerie shapes that represent the life Of those you seek, which to offend may be Most prejudiciall nay dangerous Even to your lives; the charme shall not delay Your expectation longer: doe you know The Satyrs when you see 'em once agen.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 5.

Enter Cleobulus like a Satyre courting Arismena, Bra∣cheus like another Satyr courting Castarina.

Phil.

The same, the very same.

Lar.

Be they Devils.

Phil.

Wee'l revenge them here.

Philaritus and Lariscus offer to run at the Satyrs who pulling off their Vizards are known to be Cleobulus and Bracheus.

Cleob.

Do, kill thy Father boy.

Brac.

Murder thy Unckle.

Phil.

Ah! Are you the cruel Satyrs?

The supposed servants in the interim steale away Arismena and Castarina.

Cleob.

Yes and have we hope Made you amends: They were our men Which we both shapt, and fitted for that purpose.

Lar.

You frighted us.

Cleob.

It is confest, but now Wee'l crosse your hopes no more, but give you those Yee terme your greatest happinesfe: May heaven Make their wombs fruitfull with as blessed issue As ere gave Parents hopes.

Phil.

These wishes Sir Adds to my great content, and were But Arismena here, there were not in The world that which could make Philaritus Accurst.

Brac.

It is my wonder that she stayes Thus long.

Crying within.

Lar.

What noyse is that?

Phil.

Some's strangled sure.

Cleob.

Hear tis plainer now.

They cry within.

Brac.

Let's in I pray.

Phil.

All's well I hope.

Exeunt in hast, and enter againe.

Cleob.

We hear a noyse but can Not tell where tis.

within

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Phil.

Harke!

Cleob.

Its here abouts.

Cleobulus drawes the curtain and findes Coridon and Rurius in a payre of stocks their hands tied and their mouths gaggd.

Lar.

Oh horrour!

Phil.

Unbinde the men.

Brac.

I am affraid.

Cleob.

What sport's this?

Cor.

No sport, the Satyrs—

Phil.

What of them?

Cor.

Having intelligence (I know not by what means) of your disguising of your selves into their shapes, have surprised the houfe; and ere we were aware bound and gaggd us as ye see; so instead of us brought in Arismena and Castarina, who since have

carried them away leaving us in this lamentable case.

Cleob.

Plagues pursue them.

Brac.

Horror attend them.

Lar.

Furies! Rise in my braine and help me to revenge.

Phil.

Fix me for ever here, oh you that send The active lightning from your throne, or trust Me with your thunder once—Dare you not? Or have I more consuming flames within? Yes my breath may blast them all—stand off

Runs up and down.

Furies swell up my breast, and in this rage I could unmake the world, and turne it back Into its first unpolished heape, and shall Performe some worthy deed worthy Philaritus.

Exit.

Cleob.

This doth distract my Sonne.

Brac.

Wee'l counsell him Till we have set him right.

Lar.

I'm lost in griefe And smalls the hope I have to finde releife.

Exeunt.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 6.

Enter Arismena and Castarina

Aris.

Here may we rest and ease Our tired limbs, whilest some refreshing gale Courts our sad feares into a sweet repose, Sit downe.

Cast.

I'le doe what you command, yet I Am fearfull here's more danger then we see.

Aris.

Your too too nice Fates guide! to Fates yeild wee, For pensive cares can't alter their Decree.

Arismena and Castarina retire and fall a sleep in an Arbor on the Stage.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 7.

Enter 1 Satyre Solus.

Sat.

This was her wonted place, on these green banks She sate her down, when first I heard her play Unto her lisning sheep; nor can she be Far from the spring she's left behinde. That Rose I saw not yesterday, nor did that Pinke Then court my eye; She must be here, or else That gracefull Marigold wo'd shure have clos'd Its beauty in her withered leaves, and that Violet too wo'd hang its velvet head To mourn the absence of her eyes: And see

The Satyr spies them asleepe.

Where she doth lie, purging the moystn'd ayre With her more gentle breath: Methinks she chides Me in her sleep, and frights my blood to palenesse As I stand: But come, I am resolv'd Nor can I longer now forbear to force Arismena to come with me, whilst I Leave Castarina to her Destiny.

Satyre takes up Aris∣mena and Exit.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 8.

Enter Bonus Genius of Castarina as she sleepes.

Bon. Gen.

Sleep Castarina whilst thy sence Doth loose its use, from fancy take Instructions of that Excellence, They'l keep thee safe when th'art awake. Nice honour is so rich a thing That to preserve it rather dye Or kill the Ravisher would fling Such stains upon thy Modesty. Tis faire and just revenge for they Whose bosomes lodge such foul intents Tis fit should dye and dayly pay▪ Their debt to th' sin in punishment.

Exit.

Castarina awakes.

Cast.

Stay gentle Spirit, and with those sweet sounds Strike on my waking sence, that I may be Confirm'd tis no illusion: I'le obey The counsell of my Genius; sure twas it That guards me: Would it would appear agen And teach thee Arismena—ha! She's gone; And whither? how! my ignorance! and wonder! A whirlewinde in its giddy motion carries Light matters not more swiftly, then shee's vanisht, Hath danger frighted her? or is she forc't By some rude Satyre? Thou that didst instruct My soule so lately, guide me to the knowledge Of her much doubted Fate, or shew the way She's fled, that I may follow. Arismena! Let me oretake thee; a ravenous Beare, Or Wolfe hath seiz'd thee, I would share thy harmes And both die foulded in each others armes.

Exit.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 9.

Enter Satyre with Arismena.

Sat.

Come faire one, cast off your trembling fear, No violence shall force your Love, I'le rather choose To pierce this breast, then let one accent fall That may offend your eare.

Aris.

You doe offend In speaking thus.

Sat.

I should displease you more To snatch my pleasures from your brest

Aris.

You wo'd Indeed, and doe already fright my blood To palenesse in my cheeks.

Sat.

Oh say not thus, I doe Confesse I have not in the stock of my Deserts enough to force one bounteous smile For to create me new; but let not that

Cause you to frown, or with one angry look Turne me to ashes as I stand.

Aris.

Still you Doe gild the Pill, you'd have me take, but I Assure you Sir my heart is none of mine, Though the bright Marriage God has yet forborne To light his Tapers. We breath both from one soule.

Sat.

Come, come, you doe but jest to egg me more By your delayes.

Aris.

You'l finde I speak the truth, And covet more to die a Martyr for This cause, then live to be an Empresse.

Sat.

Are you so resolute? so stout, go in, Visit the rooms I led you through, look on Those stings you are to feel unlesse you doe Consent, and then consider that if they Inforce you not, you shall be quickly sent To those blest fields you vainly hope to view.

Aris.

That death is welcome which shall render me A chast example unto posterity.

Exit. Aris.

Sat.

These Arcadian Nimphs are patternes to the world Of chastity; had my breath bin spent on Ladies of the Westerne court, they would have prov'd More gentle then to let one thus long sue Without a close imbrace, whilst these fly from The name, fearing the sound might get An Act of lust.

Enter Castarina.

Here comes another too Whose brighter soule shall not by me be forc't. Faire Maide?

ACT. 5. SCEN. 10.

Cast.

Blesse me ye Powers!

Sat.

From what?

Cast.

From you and all your curst Associates.

Sat.

Why faire one? I carry Nothing to afright you but this shape.

Cast.

In that Lurks all thats bad.

Sat.

Judge not thus ill, th' respect I'le shew to you shall merit better thoughts.

Cast.

You shew respect, heavens defend! can I Believe there is civility amongst Wolves, Or that a Lyon can be brought to couch Before his prey. Stand off, or you shall feel I dare

Snatches a po∣niard from the Satyrs side, & wounds him.

Be more then woman, sluce your blood, and laugh To see your soule expire.

Sat.

Stay gentle Nimph This little blood has checkt my daring soule.

Cast.

But dost thou bleed? oh stop the murmuring stream Least my Feeble nature sink at the sight

She drops the poniard and the Satyr takes it up.

Of blood.

Sat.

Art thou so quickly chang'd, is that Great spirit which thou proudly boasts turnd to Effeminacy? Come kisse me, or I'le Draw so much of thy own 'twill fright thee more To view it streaming from thy veines.

Cast.

Keep off For I dare suffer—

Sat.

A kinde salute.

Cast.

No, Death and meet it through more tortures then ere Tyrants could invent.

Sat.

I'le try your valour, And get you yonder till I've fram'd a death More horrid then ere fancy thought on yet.

Cast.

Let fall your stings, they shall be welcom'd too; I'le kisse the hand which shall dismisse a maide And praise thy act in the Elizean shade.

Exit.

Sat.

Nothing can alter her, but as the Stars Keeps still her constant course; yet something I Will doe—I, it shall so, and if This failes I'le try some other plot.

Hollow within, and then enter a Satyre.

The newes?

2 Sat.

The Shepheards are insnared.

1 Sat.

O bring them in.

Exit. 2 Sat.

They're timely tane, for now my plot may finde A good successe, or as I am, I may Either revenge or lengthen out my day.

Exit.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 11.

Enter four Satyrs with Javelins bringing in Cleobulus, Bracheus, Philaritus, and Lariscus bound.

Cleob. Brac. Phil. Lar.

Unbinde us slaves.

2 Sat.

I, doe, pull your armes to peices, twill be a torture we forgot to invent.

Phil.

That I could kill my selfe.

Lar.

Or any thing rather then die by their ignoble hands.

Brac.

Patience is our onely remedy.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 12.

Enter the Grand Satyre.

3 Sat.

Here comes one will tame you Sir.

G. Sa.

I am resolv'd nor though I can will greive.

speaks as to some within.

4 Sat.

The spies are brought.

G. Sat.

You have done well: Now see that one of you Muster enough to guard these woods, whilst we Afflict our punishments on these.

Sat.

I goe.

Exit.

G. Sat.

Come hither you that are the Master of These woods, and think it nothing to destroy Whole troops of Satyres What wo'd you bestow On us to set you free? wo'd you give up Your Virgins to our use, and let us take The beauties of your Land?

Omnes.

Destruction first.

Sat.

Nay you should enjoy them too, onely we—

Phil.

Wo'd crack their Maindenheads—

Lar.

And we sho'd then—

Phil.

Be married to them.

Sat.

Right.

Brac.

And leave our Lands to those You get.

Sat.

Yes.

Omnes.

A halter first.

Sat.

Say so! Tear limbs. From off the trees give them a welcome.

The meaner Satyres play on the Hooboys drest as though they were boughs, but in a distracted way.

Phil.

Strange Musique!

Lar.

The screech-Owles Dirge ere death.

Having plaid thus distractedly they play some acurate lesson.

Brac.

Their notes are chang'd.

Cleob.

And now they sound as when the dying Swan Fills the Ecchoing woods with harmony.

Phil.

What shall become of poor Philaritus?

Cleob.

Wee'l dye incircled in each others armes.

Sat.

Fetch in the youths and let them sing the Songs They have prepared.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 13.

Exeunt Satyrs, entring againe tending on Arismena and Castarina drest in some disguisd shapes.

Lar.

What now?

Phil.

Our sentence.

The Song.

1

Sigh Shepheards sigh Spend all your breath in groans Lay your sweeter Musick by Hearken onely to the Drones. Henceforth no other Garlands view But what are made of dismall yewe, Tis fit all nature now should mourne And every tree to Cypresse turne.

2

Those Nimphs are gone Whose lookes in awe did keepe The Wolfe and Fox who alone More then Pales blest our sheepe, Their sweetest grasse the Lambs did finde Where their bright eyes not Phoebus shin'd, In every place where they did come They made a new Elizium.

Wretched Swaines ye now can have No Paradice but in the Grave,

Chorus.

Die, then die, since they are fled The onely life is to be dead.

The Song being done Ex: Arismena & Castarina

Gr. Sat.

Unbinde the men.

Omnes.

What then?

Gr. Sat.

I aske your pardons Sirs, and wo'd Be glad to know what can deserve your smiles.

Phil.

Jest not foule soule, it is a death to live The object of your view, we can as bravely Suffer, as you torment, and were those here Which you have ravisht from their loves, we wo'd But shed some funerall tears upon their hearse And gladly meet our deaths.

Sat.

They're dead indeed, And since you know their fates, you shall be brought Unto their Tombes: I'le drop as many tears as you To shew my penitence, although it be A thing averse for me to weep, yet when I think what goodnesse I've destroyd, I must Accuse my lust, and then lament your losse.

Phil.

Accursed slaves.

Sat.

Nay dry your tears, for if There be such groves and joyfull fields as you Call fortunate, your Nimphs are sporting in Their shades, triumphing ore our cruelty.

Lar.

They died unspotted then.

Sat.

They did, and breathd Out soules as pure as ayre before it mixt With Earth.

Phil.

Blest virgins! Lead forward to their Tombes, I long to pay a funerall tear, and weep Till I'm become the onely Niobe.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 14.

Enter Satyres with Arismena and Castarina in Coffins.

Sat.

They are inclos'd in these, in them is hid More riches then the world has left, but I Sin in their praise, my tears shall expiate My crimes.

Weepes.

Phil.

Which is my Arismena's Tombe.

Sat.

This.

Phil.

I will bedew this chest, whilst you Lariscus Weep your griefes ore that

Lar.

Oh Castarina! Send from the Elizean fields thy ghost to call Mee hence, let not my ayrie soule be pend Within this lumpe of clay, and I be absent From that rich place, thy purer parts doe blesse.

Phil.

My eyes grow dry, this brest has so much griefe I cannot vent my tears.

Cleob.

I can supply what you doe lack, methinks I could im∣balme both corpes in mine, or else

Create a Sea with Rivers from my eyes.

Brac.

My sorrowes flow So fast I want expressions for my griefes.

Sat.

Rise from the earth, your tears can't raise them from Their silent Urnes.

Brac.

But yet they may perchance Hasten my Journeys sooner then I dream't.

Aris. Ca.

Rather then so we'l rise and live againe.

They open the Coffins and rise from them.

Omnes.

Alive!

Sat.

Yes, and have I hope made you amends For all the injuries I've done. 'Tis true I oft have thought to woe Arismena To consent to marry me, but I found Her ever constant to Philaritus, Besides this shape has frighted her, which thus I now cast off.

Discovers himselfe.

Omnes.

Paromet.

Cleob.

Your father Castarina.

Cast.

I know it Sir, and was acquainted with The plot, but had not leave to crown you sooner With the happy newes, or else I should ere this Have blest you from your fears: And beg a pardon for the wounds I gave you.

speaks to her father.

Cleob.

You are call'd home, and every one rejoyceth Your doom's reverst.

Sat.

I've practiz'd all that's done With this intent, that if I could procure Arismena as my Love, I hop'd I sho'd The easier intreat you to sue for my Returne, which I doe finde you have obteyn'd And doth exact my service ever and bindes Me to entreat your pardon Arismena.

Aris.

I can forgive, and had you wrong'd me more You have made a large and faire requitall, in Giving me up chast unto Philaritus.

Phil.

Doe we not dream?

Aris.

Most certainely we are Awake, and now made happy.

Cast.

At last Our hearts meete.

Lar.

Never to be disjoyn'd.

Sat.

And once againe take Castarina from Her Fathers hands.

Lar.

Welcome again dear heart To my own bosome. And now the truth of the dark Oracle

Is clearly illustrated, Thou wast dead, Dead to my hopes; and now I doe enjoy thee After thy restitution to new life Whence thy Lariscus doth derive his own, Thy faithfull true Lariscus.

Cast.

I beleive it Though you suspected me.

Lar.

Allow that errour. A reconciliation and free pardon. Henceforth I will be guarded with such care A jealousie shall not assault one thought Without repulse.

Graculus cries within.

Cleob.

What noyse is that?

Brac.

No more plots I hope.

Sat.

No, no, 'Tis Graculus whom I have caus'd to be Kept close.

Brac.

O prithee free him all are friends.

Enter Graculus.

Sat.

Hee's here and I'le obscure my selfe.

ACT. 5. SCEN. 15.

Grac.

Oh the horrid place, and tortures I have both seen and felt, are you their Master? Doth any of you desire to see Hell before you go thither.

Cleob.

The fellow's mad and thinks there's no other place but that.

Grac.

If you doe? come but with me and I will shew a place—such a place as goes beyond the fire spitting Moun∣taine and has worse tortures in't by halfe then the gnawing Vul∣ture, Ixions wheel, or whatsoever else the lying Poets doe ima∣gine. O Master! had you but some little grudgings of what I have indur'd you wo'd—I, that you wo'd run mad, wilde, nay—allmost try the certainty of eternity, rather then have your bones thus unjoynted in your skin.

Brac.

Ah, Ah, Ah, you're rightly serv'd for betraying your Mistresse.

Grac.

The Devil! how came you to the knowlege of that?

Sat.

Why I told em.

Grac.

Oh free me from a Furie, a Devil.

Offers to run away.

Sat.

Neither you see.

Discovers himselfe.

Grac.

Exil'd Paromet, had I known this I wo'd—

Sat.

What?

Grac.

Why—

Sat.

Nay out with't.

Grac.

Have told Castarina to've bin freed by my discovery.

Sat.

Oh!

Brac.

Well sirrah go and be glad you have scapt thus.

Grac.

And so I will, for I well deserve to 'ave lost an Arme, or something else that's dearer to me, for betraying a Virgin. Oh my bones.

Exit.

Cleob.

The night begins to wast, come therefore on I long till Mariage Rites have made these Lovers one.

Sat.

Lead on, and may the Gods come short of those Delights these happy paires may finde.

Phil.

To all My thanks: come my dearest Arismena After so many conflicts with my Fate I meet in thee my happinesse, our Loves Shall be more glorious for the Ecclipse.

Thus Memphian Balmes that are of richest worth Once bruis'd do send most precious Odours forth.

Exeunt.