The constant nymph, or, The rambling shepheard a pastoral, as it is acted at the Duke's Theater / written by a person of quality.

The SCENE, Lilla's House.

Enter Lilla and Euplaste.

Lill.

This Match is wholly by her Father made; She is but Passive in't.

Eup.

'Tis e'ne as bad; Where lyes the Difference, When from my Fold my Lamb is gone, to say, That is was lost, or that 'twas forced away?

Lill.

But I should think that Act might soon be staid; In doing which, anothers Will's obey'd, And not our own.

Eup.

I had the same Belief; But found her more in her Obedience stiff, Than others of her Sex are, in their Will: So vain t' avert her, proved my baffled Skill. Her Breath I told her, tho 'twas sweeter far, Than from the Stills, the Drops of Roses are; By saying she was Astatitiuses, would turn Aire, That would her Faces Beauty more impaire, Than ere an Ear of Corn, the Milldew did; 'Twould blast her to a Leper: Pan forbid, She only cryed; for she must venture it; Her Will must to her Father's Will submit. But sure, said I, you will the Gods incense, In such a Criminal Obedience, When you discard Philisides true Love. When I thus found, that but in vain I strove, I gave it o're; but so, as he whose strength In Swimming's spent, yeilds to be drown'd at length.

Lill.

Well, do not thus afflict your self, take heart; Impatience makes our Wounds but more to smart.

Eup.

But they are but weak Surgeons, who to cure 'em, Apply no other Salve, but to endure 'em.

Lill.

I've done my best, but Fates have crost my Will.

Eup.

And makes that less, or more, my ill?

Lill.

Who knows but this may turn to greater good?

Eup.

That Good affects not, that's not understood.

Enter Dametas.

Lill.

Hold, here's Dametas; happily we may Learn out of him, what may your Griefs allay: Shift then your Sayle, and lay your Passions down; Seem unconcern'd, as if 'twere all unknown, What-e're we say. Dametas, What brings you? You're grown a Stranger here.

Dam.

'Tis true. I would the cause of it had never been; I weep when e're my Thoughts it enters in: But let that pass, good Lilla, and receive The Message I have brought, to have your Leave, That your fair Daughter, with her Presence, may Add Luster to Astreas Bridal Day.

Lill.

Forgive me Fame; For till this Witness came, I thought thou didst but raise a Lye, to shame Astrea with: Or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it my Mistake? And will she then her dearest Swain forsake, If Love be a good Title, and her Breast But with one Grain of Loyalty possest.

Dam.

Who's that, dear Swain? pray name him, if you please

Lill.

As if you knew not: 'Tis Philisides.

Dam.

You do ill, Lilla, to be so o're-sway'd By partial Love, before this stranger Maid, Because he is your Nephew: To suggest, He in Astrea has such Interest, As that she ought to marry him, whom she Nor can, nor may.

Lill.

Make that appear to me.

Dam.

I shall, at least to you, fair Maid, I shall; For fear you else, thro' ignorance might fall To Eup. Into some doubtings of Astreas Truth. For 'tis confest. 'twixt her, and that named Youth, Some Love has past.

Eup.

And why not then pursued?

Dam.

Cause with more Piety she is endued. Sylvanus, whom I serve, for Age and State, In our Arcadia is a Magistrate: He, by his Wife, some Years ago deceast, Was with a Son, and with a Daughter blest; Traumatius and Astrea, they were Named, And for their Graces far and near were famed. They both, as soon as Ripe for't, fell in Love: But with cross Fate, for so it soon did prove: He with Alveria, Lilla's Daughter here, A Nymph for Constancy beyond compare; She with that Youth, whom Lilla now did Name: But, cause from a Dipean Race both came, My Master was so much against it bent, As to their Marriages he'd ne'r consent.

Eup.

From whence arose to that same Race his Spleen?

Dam.

From an invertrate Hate, that is between Lyceans and Dipeans; For altho, Both are Arcadians, both are Shepheards too: And, but by th' River Aris parted: Yet, 'Twixt Troy and Greece, the Fewd was not more great, Than that which 'twixt these neighbouring Shepherds is.

Eup.

And is this Mortal Spleen of his So sweet? For were't not so, he might have got The Tittle of a better Patriot. If he had with the Gods good Purpose joyn'd, And by their Internuptials put an end To that long Feud betwixt you.

Dam.

I confess, That I my self conceived no less; And gave it my best Help upon that score: Till Chance came in, and rendered (what before Was hard) impossible. There chanced one Day, 'Twixt Us and the Dipeans, a fierce Fray; In which Traumatius fell, and by that Youth Philisides.

Lill.

Suppose that it be Truth,

Does such a Chance claim from the Gods Above, The Power t'Absolve her from her Oaths of Love. And whil'st Philisides is known to live, To wed another, toleration give; I think, tho he has done all he could do, It will not be, fair Maid, so judged by you.

Eup.

'Twill not indeed. And truly I much grieve, That such a fair Nymph as she is, should give Such bad Example. O return with speed; And whilst there's time allow'd for't, get her freed From that sole Spot she bears. By which you'l prove Your Faithfulness to Her, and Zeal for Love.

Dam.

My Will's not wanting. Let the Gods but lead, And I to follow them no Wings shall need.

Exeunt.

Eneer Sylvanus.

Sylvan.

This Day will bring me once again to Rest, 'Twill root that dangerous Canker from my Breast Lay gnawing there so long. Traumatius dead! And my Astrea to Astatius Wed; My Fear of mixing our Lycean Blood with the Dipean, has its Period.

Enter Melibeus and Shepheards.

Melib.

A happy Morning to the good Sylvanus; Health and long Life, the kindest Gifts of Heav'n, Attend him:

Astatius will this Morning make him happy.

Sylvan.

Astatius! Where is he? Let him appear Bright as the Morning-Star.

Mel.

Himself's not here; But has sent us, as by our Duties ty'd, With our shrill Pipes, to call up his fair Bride.

Sylvan.

And can your Fancies go so much astray, As to conceit, that on her Wedding Day, A Maid needs calling up? Or your Pipes can, (Tho they were shriller than the Pipes of Pan) More lowdly do't, than their own Longings can. Then beck fond Swains, bring him; 'Tis only he Can make the acceptable Harmony.

Exeunt Shepheards. Enter

Enter Dametas, bringing in Lipomene, Cloris, Sylvia; All with Willow Garlands.

Sylvan.

Fair Shepherdesses, you are welcome: This Maiden-Office you so kindly do To my Girle now, shall soon be done to you: But why thus Garlanded with Willow? Some evil Omen in't, I greatly fear.

Lip.

No more than in the Purple Kings do wear. Mourning put on, do's but denote ills past; Of what's to come, it no Presage do's cast. And tho their Hearts, who wear it, may regret, It bodes not any ill to those that see't.

Sylvan.

But who in Mourning come to Wedding-Feasts, Are much un-modish, and ill-suited Guests.

Lip.

What other can these Willow-wreaths declare, Than that we once were Loved, and now forsaken are: And all of us by one.

Sylvan.

Pray, Who was he?

Lip.

He who this Day, do's make the World to see What mighty Power Astreas Beauty has; That it can force him to be True, who was So Faithless in his Love to us before; And Heav'n knows, to how many more: For who in Love, from Truth but once does fall, Takes Falshood up, that has no Bounds at all.

Sylvan.

But oft false Glosses on the Tents are found; And possibly, fair Maids, you may Expound That to be Love in him, which was in Truth, But the Comport of Beauty, due from Youth: And this is the right-stated Case 'twixt You And Him. Confess.

Lip.

So Cloris, is it so?

Clor.

Let him be Judge of that, Who's pleas'd betwixt us so the Case to state. This Breid of our mixt Hair he took and swore: With that same sixt Resolve, said he, I swear to You, swear you to to Me

By all the Gods above, below, (To whom we Fear or Worship owe) I swear, said he; I swear, said I, And all Equivocations flye; That as our Hair's here, in a kind Of Nuptial Knot together joyn'd; So are our Hearts, and so shall be Till Death dissolve the Unity. And then, for Seal to what was said, He first, then I, did kiss the Breid.

Lip.

You'll grant Sylvanus sure, here do's appear No false Gloss on the Text — But Sylvia here.

Sylvan.

No, there's no need: I've heard too much; I shall, From this wrong'd Nymph, conclude him false to all. But what is that, that you would have me do? Confine this vagrant Lover so to you, That my Astrea never may be his. You'd be too partial in requiring this: Since for each other you can Willow wear, Think't not to much to wear it too for her.

Lip.

Scoff not Sylvanus at our Fate. The Gods Have Ears to hear, and to chastise you, Rods. Sir, You mistake, if you conceive, that we Came to break off this Dayes Solemnity: No; but as Sea-men being sav'd from Wrack, The raging Winds that threatned it, call'd back; As soon as they are Landed, make repair Unto the Temple of their Tutelar; And there for Life bestow'd, upon their Knees, Hang up unto the Gods their Donaries: So We, restored t' our Liberty agen, Lost by our Vows to that most false of Men, Are hither come, on these Tryumphant Gates, Joyntly to hang our Willow Chaplets; That there Erected, they may stand to be The Monuments of our Captivity.

And that Astrea 'twas, that set us free.

They hang up their Garlands.

Thus all our deep Resentments of his Scorn, Are with our Wreaths put off; and we are come On your fair Daughters Bridal to attend.

Sylvan.

Then enter in Fair Nymphs, and kindly lend The Bride your Beauties, to Adorne her Feast; And let your Heads with fitter Wreaths be drest.

Exe∣unt Shepherdesses.

Dam.

May I have leave to speak?

Sylvan.

Be brief in't then: My Mind is troubled.

Dam.

But 'twould more have been, Had you not had this warning to prevent it: Wed not your Child where you will sure repent it. False to those Nymphs? ••ere hope he'll be more true In's Love to her, 'cause Marriage do's ensue: For, will there be 'twixt Heart and Lips, less Odds, When a Priest hears his Words, than when the Gods? Who gives the Master a Respect so light, Will more (you may presume) the Servant slight.

Sylvan.

And who will wed her, if he wed her not? The Wedding-Cloaths upon her back once got, A Maids flesh straite takes teint: Shall I a Match then for my Child refuse, When I can never hope to have the like? No, whil'st 'tis hot, the Marriage up I'le strike.

Dam.

Think of his Contracts yet.

Sylvan.

And Laugh at them, To whom such Fopperies could Contracts seem. From Matching of my Girle with him, ne're think For a Chimaera of broke Faith I'le shrink. A Lover breaks no Faith, till Faith be made; And no way he makes Faith, till Faith be made; And no way he makes Faith, till Marryed. All said or done before, 's but making Love; And if not kept, creates but Mirth for Jove. I'm fixt in't then, he shall Astrea Wed; I'le be by Wit (not Superstition) led.

Exeunt.

Astrea is discover'd in her Bridal-Chamber.

A SONG, Sung in Parts.

Come, come Astatius, come away; Love is affronted by thy stay; Beauty it self too is Disgrac'd, If Love more slowest at the last.

The Muses he do's stay to bring, That they the Nuptial-Song may Sing: And they, perhaps, are not yet drest, As does become so great a Feast.

Chorus.

Oh think him not so dimnly Ey'd: The Muses all are in the Bride.

Come, come Astatius, come away, Hymen's affronted by thy stay: For who t' his Marriage does not hast, Loosens the Knot he should make fast.

The Graces he will bring, perchance, That they may at the Wedding Dance: And they, perhaps, make this delay, To form the Figures on the way.

Chorus.

Oh think him not so dimnly Ey'd! The Graces all are in the Bride. The Scene Closes.

Enter Astatius and Clinias.

Clin.

Then for her Humour, Mild as is the Dove, No Tincture of the Gall in't; all runs Love.

Ast.

Cease your fond Flattery, Fool, you cannot screw It high enough, to reach Astreas Due. Yet I remember too, when others were As High as she, as Charming, and as Fair.

Clin.

And so do I: Yes, I remember, who It was that call'd em Fair, and Charming too: Nay, I can some Particulars repeat, Which made each of 'em have Esteem so great. O see in Sylvias Face so sweet an Aire, So truly pleasant, and as kind as fair. How with their pretty Casts do Cloris Eyes, Whilst they but seem to wanton, Hearts surprize? How Phillis Features match, more Lovely far, Than do the Doves draw Cythereas-Char. How does Lipomenes Complexion show. What Graces from Divine Selinda flow. How Eromenas shape.—

Ast.

Sirrah, No more.

Clin.

I have scarce begun the Roll, and must give o're.

Ast.

Hye you to Ladons; look you that I find All things in order, as I have design'd.

Clin.

Ne'r doubt to find all things to your content, When you trust Clinias with the Management.

Exit Clinias.

Ast.

The Rascal has my Humour to a Hair: I ne'r can come where Angell-Women are: But in their Faces I enough espy, To make me on, and off, as fast to fly. For Love, me thinks, like Water in the Street, Corrupts when't stands; but when it runs, 'tis sweet. 'Tis in the making Love, Love's Pleasure lies; When to the Quarry it once comes, it dies. How nauseous do those Sweets, we're cloy'd with, grow? The Shun-shine's pleasant for a Walk or too: But, when that once to Travail in't we come, It grows exceeding hot and troublesome. Love, whilst 'tis making, is a Comedy, For fine Intrigues, full of Variety. But when that once to Marriage it descends, In an old Country Dance it dully ends. And why then do I marry now? May he Be hang'd can tell. But it has fared with me,

As with a Souldier, on the Breach so got, That how he may, get off, he then sees not: But setting then a good Face on't, he'll cry, Tho his Heart trembles, Vict'ry, Victory; As I Astrea, Astrea! For when a fair Retreat is past our Skill, 'Tis brave to make Necessity our Will.

Exit.