Aminta

Scen. I.

Daphne and Silvia.

Daph.

ARt thou resolv'd then Silvia to consume Thy fairest youth? can't thy heart find a room For Venus pleasures? wilt not know those joy's A Mother takes to sport with her sweet boyes? Shall so much beauty be to woods confin'd?

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

Sil.

Let others follow loves delights for me, If that in love any delight there be. This life me pleases best; Nor do I know Ought I take pleasure in, but in my bow; This is my chiefest comfort, for to follow The wild beasts in the chase, hear huntsmen hollow: Nor do I fear such sports will wanting be.

Da.

More sottish sports, more sottish life, dost see? This life thee pleases cause thou hast not prov'd As yet another, cause thou hast not lov'd. "So in the infant world, and when as yet, "The simple people knew no better meat, "Acorns and water, were accounted sweet: "But when th'earth did abound with corn and wine, "Acorns and water then were food for swine. So shouldst thou taste but one poor thousand part Of the sweet joys of love, thou'dst say, dear heart, Why didst thou six my pleasure on such toyes And leave me widow to more reall joyes? Thou'lt sorrowfull repent the lost time past And curse it now for running on so fast. How many a widow night, how many a day I've ignorantly spent! thou'lt sighing say. Change then, sond fool, change change thy mind I pray, Lest when'ts too late thou do repent in vain

Sil.

Daphne, when I repent or o're again Repeat these words of thine, w^ch thou dost feign' Just as thou list, then let the rivers turn Back to their fountains; let the Ocean burn, The wolves fly from the tender lamo, the hares Pursue the greyhounds; then let the fierce bears, Inhabit waters: and let dolphins range The fields, whenever I my mind do change.

Daph.

This is meer childishness, Sister, as thou Art, I was once. (Alas!) although that now I'me chang'd by age, even just so neat, so fair My count'nance was, so golden was my hair, Just such a cherry lip, just such a Rose, I did in th'middle of my cheek disclose; 'Twas my delight, then, Silvia, (now I find A foolish one it was) to hunt the Hind, Follow the footsteps of wild beasts, my net Spread to untrap the birds, take care to whet My dart; and if I did but chance to spy Some youthfull Shepheard cast an am'rous eye, I looked down with scorn, and with disdain, Counting what was my grace to be my pain, And nought was more displeasing unto me Then see me pleasing unto others be: But yet at length, time and th'importunate Pray'rs of my faithful lover, did abate That Virgin frost, Sister, I was (and blesse The hour) o'recome at last, I do confesse, And in one night's black shade I did learn more Then I had done in all my life before:

So now I did my former folly know, I quite renounc'd both Cynthia's; life and bow: And so I hope thou wilt too, and at last Aminta's sighs may melt thy flinty breast. How canst thou choose but love him? canst deny He's handsom? then pray tell the reason, why? Thinkst thou he loves thee not? or does love any Better than thee, though he be lov'd by many? If so, why do's he so thy love pursue? Think'st him not enough noble? if thou do Though from this Rivers god the third thou be, Third from great Pan the shepherds god is he. Why then despi'st thou him? thinkst thou the lilies Of the fair cheeks of fairest Amarillis, Are not as beautiful as thine? yet he Thou seest despiseth her, and follows thee; She follows him and seeks his love, and thou, Though he seeks thine, refusest his; pray now Imagine, he, thus crost by thy disdain (God grant th'imagination be but vain) Should leave thee and take her, I fain would know Whether it would not grieve thee yea or no? 'Tis better to accept him then, by half, Then taking her both at thy folly laugh.

Sil.

Let 'minta and his loves disposed be, As best him pleaseth little't imports me: Nor who his love has, so I do it misse, Care I, mine he can't be, since I'me not his: And though he mine were, his I would not be.

Daph.

From whence proceeds this hatred now from thee? If I were thee I'd strive to love him rather.

Sil.

It's from his love.

Daph.

Strange child of such a Father, When was fierce tyger born of gentle lamb? Or when from Swan's egge a black crow e're came? Sister thou cheatest or thy self or me.

Sil.

I hate his love, cause he my honesty: And I should love him while he would not crave Ought else of me but what my self would have,

Daph.

Thou onely wil'st thy hurt, he only would Wish that to thee which wish himself he should:

Sil.

Daphne, or talk of somewhat else, or hold Thy peace I pray.

Daph.

O gods! do but behold This perverse wench! but prethee Sister do, But answer this, If that another sue Should for thy love, would'st thus requite his pain?

Sil.

Who would entrap my chastity, the same Requite should find from me, what e're he be, Whom thou stil'st lover, I am enemy.

Daph.

The Ram unto the ewe dost thou esteem Or to the tender heifer the bull deem, En'mies to be, or doth the Turtle dove Reject her mate, because he doth her love: Seest thou the fragrant season of the year, How every thing doth sweet and green appear? This pleasant verdure covering o're the plains,

Invites, alas, not only nymphs and Swains, But very beasts to love, and dost not see, How all things in the world inamoured be? See how those two doves whisper, with what willing, And joynt consent as 'twere they two are billing! You Nightingale which hops from grove to grove Still as she hops, she sings, I love, I love; The cruell Adder who doth stop his ears. And having stung, will not be charm'd by tears, Or cries, is charm'd by sweetest love: 'ith woods The tigers love, the fishes in the floods Love too, but thou more cruel then a beast Denyest sweet love an entrance in thy breast; But what talk I of beasts; seest thou each tree In this vast forrest? they inamoured be. Behold with what a sweet embrace the vine Does her dear consort lovingly intwine, The firr doth love the firr, the pine the pine; You stubborn oak, which scarce the wind can move, Is mov'd by th'power of divinest love, Hadst thou a spir't of love, or if of stone, Were not thy heart, thou'dst hear it sigh and groan, And utter forth it's am'rous plaints: yet thou For all this art not mov'd to love, why now Wilt thou than plants or beasts be more unkind? Change, fondling that thou art, change, change thy mind:

Sil.

When I of plants the am'rous sighs shal hear I'l likewise be in love, til then forbear.

Daph.

Well though thou now laugh at, and dost disdain My faithful counsels; know that to thy pain Thou wilt repent, thou dost not while thou may Them follow; for be sure there comes a day, When what's to thee a pleasure and delight, Shall be thy greatest grief, thy greatest spight; And as thou now disdainest others, so, Thou'lt then despise thy very self; and know Those so clear springs in which thou oft dost use Thy most resplendent beauty to peruse, Thou'lt leave forsaken and neglected now, Or stand amazed at thy wrinkled brow But why speak I of this? since 'tis a sure And common evil we must all endure: I'l tell thee more, and mark me what I say, 'Tis what the sage Elpino t'other day Recounted unto Licoris the fair The gentile Licoris: whose beauty rare, Has such pow'r o're Elpino, as his art In singing ought t'have o're her pliant heart; If there be any debt in love. He told It before am'rous Thir's and Battus old, Just at the entrance of Aurora's cave, Where writ in golden Characters you have; All you that are profane depart from hence, And said that it was told to him long since By the grand Poet, who so high did sing

The life of many a Heroe, many a King, Who dying did leave him his pipe, There is Sayes he, at bottom o'th profound abysse, A horrid cave, vomiting smoak with fire, And a most constant stink out of the dire Fornace of Acheronta, where do lie, In torments dark, and that eternally Those women; who perswaded here above, Neither by pray'rs, nor tears, could be to love: And 'tis a just, and well deserved law, Smoak should force tears, which pity could not draw: Then if thou thus thy cruelty continue, Look to be consort with that curst retinue.

Sil.

But what said Licoris to this, and how Answer'd she him;

Daph.

Why see! thou fain wouldst know Others affairs, but car'st not for thine own: She answered with her eyes.

Sil.

With eys alone How could she answer him?

Dap.

Those very ey's Were, as 'twere, messengers, or rather spies; Which mix'd with pleasant smiles to him made known, Licoris and her heart were now his own: Except he did believe, faith was as rare In them as beauty; she as false as fair.

Sil.

Why should he so believe?

Daph.

knowst thou what Thir's, That famous Master both of Love and Verse, Did write, when burning with the flames of love

He wandring through the forrest, did both move The nimphs & swains to laughter? but though he Did things worth laughter, yet his writings be Not to be jeer'd; this in a tree he writ, With th'tree it grew, and there I oft read it: The looking-glasses of false hearts your eyes Are; and in them all deceit hidden lies, But what avails't since shun them love denies:

Sil.

I here in pratling cast my time away, And had forgot this is th'appointed day, In which we ought to go, as we were wont, In Eliceto for to raise the Hunt. Prethee do thou stay for me while i'th nigh Fountain I cleanse the sweat, and dust which I, Got yesterday by hunting of a Deer, Which at the last I kil'd;

Daph.

I'l stay thee here Perhaps I'l bath me too, but first my gate, I'l homewards bend for it's not yet so late As't seems, and thou at home for me mayst stay: But in the mean time think of that, I pray, Concerns thee more then hunting, and say I Bid thee take a fools counsel, so god bu'y.