AMARILLIS

No further then you see, glad I have found you out. A bride? How should I utter that I do not know? And can it then be true? I know I promised was, But know not that the marriage is so near. It is Long since the promise passed, and still my mother said This day it should revive. What wretch? That could I hope, and would you give your faith Not to disclose it, I discover would A thought which in my heart I long have hid. Know then ( Corisca ) when I think I must Be subject to a child, that hates, that flies from me, And hath no other sport but woods and beasts, And loves a dog better then thousand Nymph's, I malcontented we half desperate. But dare not say so for respect I bear Unto mine honesty, unto my faith Which to my father, and what worse is, Which to our puissant goddess I have given: If by thy help my faith my life both saved, I might divide me from this heavy knot, Then shouldst thou be my health, my very life. The shame I have. This shamefastness that nature stamps in us Cannot be mastered for if you seek To hunt it from your heart, it shes into your face. At better leisure we will think of that. How better t'were to give him peace & stab: The root of such desire as hath no hope. It rather double will his misery. But what becomes of me, If ever it be known? And small shall before my name it do endanger. Nay stay Coris a, Hear me but speak. And you shall make him think I knew not of it. And that he shall Quickly dispatch. And that He come not near me by my darts length never. When you think good, give me but so much time I may go home and hear more of this marriage. This pleases me, but yet I would not have Your Nymph's to hear the words Mirtillo speaks. Come list to me! guide me clear of these trees, There set me in the pain, you round about A circle make and so begin the play. I thought I had Licoris caught, and I Have God a tree. I hear you laugh full well. I would this tree were burned, now had I thought I had E sa taken. Belike thus I all day Must play with trees. T'is time I turn again unto the sport, I almost weary am. Fie, j: you make Me run too much, in faith you're too blame. What not a word? are you she or not she? So now I know Corisca are you not? T'is so you are so great and have no hair, I could have wished no better match then this. And since you tied me, do untie me too, Quickly my heart, and I will pay thee with The sweetest kiss thou ever hadst. Why stayest? Me thinks your hands do shake. Put to your teeth, If with your nails you cannot do the deed. How tedious you're? Let me alone, My self will rid me of this trouble soon: But see how many knots have made me sure. Ah that I may but make you play this partly. So now I see. Ay me what do I see? Let me alone (traitor) ay wretched me. This is Corisca's craft, well keep you that Which you have not deserved. Death you have merited. But tell me who Hath made you boldly thus presume? Love is no cause of any villain-act. Cast not my blind deeds in my teeth I pray. Prayers and fine conceits, not snares and thefts, Discreetest Lovers use. Discreetly might you to do To leave to follow that which flies you so, In vain you know you do pursue me still. What is't you seek of me? T's well for you, the favour that you ask You have already had: now get you hence. To ease your mind and me this cumber rid, I grant to hear you, but with this condition, Speak small, partly soon, and never turn again. If I as well to answer as to hear, You pronus'd had, joust cause you might have found To have condemned my silence for unjust. You call me cruel, imagining perhaps By that reproof more easily to draw Me to the contrary. No know (Mirtillo) I am no more delighted with the found Of that desertless and disliked praise You to my beauty give, then discontent To hear you call me cruel and unjust. I grant this cruelty to any else a fault, But to a lover virtue t's and honesty, Which in a woman you call cruelty. But be it as you you'd blameworthy fault, To be unkind to one that loves. Tell me, When was Amarillis cruel unto you? Perhaps when reason would not give me leave To use this pity: yet how I it used Your self can judge, when you from death I saved: I mean when you among a noble sort of maids, A lustful Lover in a woman's clothes Banded your self, and durst contaminate Their purest sports, mingling mong kisses innocent, Kisses lascivious and impure: which to remember I am ashamed. But heavens my witness are, I knew you not, and after I you knew, I scorned your deed, and kept my soul untouched From your lasciviousness, not suffering at all The venom there to run to my chaste heart. You violated nothing save th'out side Of these my lips. A mouth kissed but by force Spits out the kiss, and kill the shame withal. But tell me you, what fruit had you received Of your rash theft, had I discovered you Unto those Nymphs? The Thracian Orfeus had not be So lamentably torn on Ebers banks Of Bacchus dams as you had be of them, Had not you helped, her pity whom you cruel call. That pity which was fit for me to give, I ever gave: For other t'is in vain you either ask or hope: If you me love, then love mine honesty, My safety love, and love my life withal. Thou art too far from that which thou desirest, The heavens forbid, the earth contraries it, Death is the punishment thereof. And above all Mine honesty defies forbidden acts: Then with a safer keeper of her honours flower, A soul wellborn will ever scorn to have. Then rest in peace ( Mirtillo ) give over this suit, Get thee far hence to live if thou art be'st wise. T'abandon life for peevish grief or smart, Is not the Actium of a valiant heart. From that which pleases virtue, t'is abstain, Is that which pleases breeds offence again. One armed in virtue conquereth all desire. Who cannot what he would will he what he can. Distance of place may heal your wound again. A new desire and old will quite displace. Time will at last clearly this love consume. Why then your wounds will not be cured at all? Till death well hear me now, And look my words be laws unto your deeds. Howbee't I know to die is the more usual voice Of and enamoured tongue, then a desire Or firm conceit his soul hath entertained, Yet if by chance such a strange folly hath Possessed thy mind, know then thy death will be Death to mine honour as unto thy life. Now if thou lovest me, live and let it be A token of thy wit henceforth thou shun To see me, or to seek my company. Well now t'is time you go ( Mirtillo ) hence! Yow'le stay too long. Go comfort your self, That infinite the troop of wretched Lovers is. All wounds do bring with them their several pain, Nor can you only of this love complain. Well go your ways. Wretch I discovered am. Corisca I am conquered I confess. And now I see too weak a thing does prove A woman's heart encounter mighty love. It is no cruelty that springs of pity. Ah me Coriscal I could not be Thus cruel but I should love cherish hopelessly. Therefore to shun him shows I have compassion Of his ill and mine. Do you not know I am espoused to Silvio, And that the law each woman dooms to death That violates her faith? But if the other law do take my life, How can loves law restore it me again? These are but vanities ( Corisca ) t'were best Quickly to leave that which we cannot hold. Thou speakest this ( Corisca ) me to try, Not as thou thinkest I am sure. But be assured Except thou showest some means how I may shun This marriage bonds, my thought's irrevocable, And I resolved am rather to die Then any way to spot my chastity. Thou makest me smile. Silvio a friend to faith? How can that be? he's enemy to love. What goddess is she? for she cannot be A mortal wight that lighted hath his love. Sure he's provided of a dainty Love. I every morning hear his cursed horn. That know I well, I have examples two, Leucipp to Ligurine, Armillam to Turingo, Their faith once broke, they took their own again. O brave inventio ̄ , good Corisca what's to do? Then closing up mine eyes, I let my self Be led by thee my deer, my faithful guide. I'll to the TO mple first, and to the Gods My prayers make, without whose aid no happy end Can ever sort to mortal enterprise. Time's never lost in praying unto them That do command the time. I do not only pardon thee I count thee the effect beholding not the cause. For fire and sword, although they wounds do bring, Yet those once he ld to us to whole deer, Howsoever now thou provest or f iend, or foe, I am well the Destinies did make Thee the good instrument of my content. Happy , And if you please with us to be, Come then and take partly of our joys with us. Th'art too quick my deer. Why so? You jest. And did he give continued ̄ sent? I pray you how? I promise you, so you Do tie me to nought else. And that I may Depart assoon as I think good. No nothing else. How can I choose but love her in whose hands I have reposed my life. Why stay you now Where be you? what do you? Lisetta you That so desired this sport, where are you now? Where is Corisca? and where be the rest? Why are you come? think you nought else to do But blind mine eyes? Where are you let's begin? But you play too far off, you should touch me. Let me alone I say, Date you thus offer force to Nymph's Aglaure, Elisa treacherous where are you become? Let me alone. What will you do? O me, me thinks I am half dead. If that my fault did cause my wretchedness, Or that my thoughts were wicked, as thou thinkest My deed, less grievous would my death be then: For it were joust my blood should wash the spots Of my defiled soul, heavens rage appease, And humane justice justly satisfy, Then could I quiet my afflicted sprights, And with a joust remorse of well-deserved death, My senses mortify, and come to death: And with a quiet blow pass forth perhaps Unto a life of more tranquillity: But too too much Nicander too much grieved I am, in so young years Fortune so High, And Innocent, I should be doomed to die. I have not broke The Law, and I am innocent. Both heavens & men have er'd to me: If it be true that thence our haps do come, For is it reason in my destiny, I bear the pain that's endue to other's faults? I none accuse in heaven, but my ill fates. And worse then them is she, that me deceived. I was deceived, but by and others fraud. Then you I see condemn me for unchaste? Deeds often are false tokens of the heart. See what you will, I'am sure my heart is clear. Simplicity, and my too much belief. I trusted my false friend, and not my Love. Orminoes sister, who hath me betrayed. I knew not of Mirtilloes coming I. Let it suffice not for Mirtilloes sake. Let her be asked of my innocence. She that betrayed me, will you not her believe? I by our Goddess Cinthia's name will swear. And must I then thus (good Nicander ) die? Shall none me hear, nor none my cause defend? Thus left of all, deprived of every hope, Only accompanied with and extreme Unhappy Funeral that not helps me. Oh cruel sentence, whither writ in heaven Or earth? In heaven it is not writ, For there mine innocence is known: but what Avails it since I needs must die? Ah too too hard, And too too bitter cup. Ah good Nicander, For pity sake make not such haste with me Unto the Temple! stay, O stay a little while! Some help may come, deer father: father now Dost thou leave me, now leave thine only child. Wilt thou not help me yet before I die? Do not deny me yet thy latest kiss: One blade shall wound both breasts, and out of mine Thy blood must stream. O father! O sweet name! Sometime so deer which I never called in vain, Make you your only daughters marriage thus, A mornings Bri e, and evening Src fize? Dear Woods farewell, my dearest Woods farewell, Receive my latest sighs until my soul By cruel wound from this my body free, Return to seek your loved shadows out: For Innocentes can not be doomed to hell, Nor amongst the blessed can despairers dwell. Oh Mirtillo, wretched was that day That first I saw thee, and thy sighed did please, Since I my must leave, more near to thee Then thine, which proves the occasion my death. Wilt thou believe that she is doomed to death For thee, that cruel ever was to thee, To keep me innocent? For me too bold, For thee too little dating my will: owe ever was, I faultless die, fruitless, and without thee My deer I die, my deer Mirt. Ni. Surely she Is dead, and in Mirtilloes loved her life Hath finished: her love and grief the blade Prevented hath: come help to hold her up, She liveth yet, I feel her heart does throb: Carry her to the Fountain here hard by, Fresh water may restore her astonished sprights, But were it not a deed of pity now, To let her die of grief, and shun the blade: No let us rather succour now her life, We do not know what heavens will do with her. What do you tell? She that your cattle keeps? Can it be true? What to his father?