DORINDA

If my desire deceive me not, that is the voice Oh my beloved Silvio, that call, his dog, He hath our labour saved. Doubtless t's he: happy Dorinda. heavens Have sent him whom thou seekest, t'is best I put The dog aside, so may I win his love. Lupino. (Lu. ) Whats your will? Go hide thy self In that same thick, and take the dog with thee. And stir not till I call. Go soon. Go get you hence hen-hearted wretch. I fair good Silvio? can you call me fair? That am not fair a whit unto your eyes. Still thou art froward unto her that thee adores, Who would believe that in that smooth aspect Were harboured such rugged thoughts. Thou through These savage woods and rocky hills pursuest A beast that flies thee, and consumest thy self In tracing out thy greyhouds steps: and me Thou shunst and dost disdain that loves thee so. Ah leave these does that run so fast away, Take hold of me thy preordained pray. Do not so shun me cruel Silvio, I'll tell thee news of thy Melampo man. Both dog and do are in my power. Why does it grieve you then That I them hold that do adore you so? See wavering child, am I not fortunate? When a beast and a dog can make me deer to thee. What will you give me? I want no apples, and perhaps I could Thee better-tasted give; didst thou not thus Disdain my gifts. Nor kids, nor lambs do I desire, it is thy love My Silvio which I seek. Nought else. Ah that thou knewest That treasures worth whereof thou seemest so liberal, Or that thy heart did answer to thy tongue. Wretched Dorinda, how hast thou placed thy Hope's In beauty, feeling never a spark of love? Thou lovely boy art such a fire to me, And yet burns not thy self. Thee under humane shape Oh dainty mother, did the Cyprian dame Bring forth, thou hast his arrows and his fire. Well know my breast both burned and wounded too, Get but him wings unto thy shoulders, and New Cupia shall thou be, were't not thy hear Is made of rocky frozen Isy shelf, Thou wantedst nought of love, but love it self. If in thy face I look (o lovely boy) Then is this love a paradise of joy. But if I turn and view my spirit well, Then t'is a flame of deep infernal hell. Nay give me first, the love you promised. Thou sowest thy seed in sand wretched Dorinda. As soon as you have God what you desire, (Perfidious Silvio ) you are gone from me. I dare not tell. ( Silvio my deer) do you not understand me yet? I should have understood you but with half of this. I am more earnest, and less cruel much then thou. Oh wretch one of those which thy mother gave to thee. Does she not kiss you then? Y'haue promised me? And will you stay? Come forth Lupino, Lupino dost not hear? He in these arms that thou despisest so, Did put himself. Esteeming deer my kisses and my sighs. Oh happy dog might I change lots with thee: Am I not brought unto and excellent pass, That of a dog I must be jealous thus? Lupino go unto the hunting strait, I'll follow thee. Will you her have alive or dead? But say the dog hath not. Alive. Only she's wounded in the heart. My cruel Silvio, I am that same Do Without pursuit or conquest taken so. Quick if thou pleasest to accept of me, Dead if thou dost despise my company. This is the same. Ay me, why look you so? Hold you a Nymph no dearer then a Do? Is this my guerdon cruel Silvio? Ungrateful boy, is this all my reward? I gave Melampo and my self with him to thee, Hoping that thus thou wouldst not have denied The sunshine of thine eyes to me. I would Have kept thee and thy dog most faithful company. I would have wipte thy brows from toilefull sweat: Upon this lap that never takes rest, Thou mightest have taken thy rest. I would Have carried all thy ewe and proved thy pray, When beasts had wanted in the woods thou mightest Have shot at me for one, and in this breast Have used still thy tough-well-sinew'd bow. So as thou wouldst, I Like thy servant might Thy weapons carried have, or proved thy pray, Making my breast both quiver and the mark For those thy shafts. But unto whom speak I? To him that hears me not, but's fled from me, Fly where thou wilt, thee will I still pursue, Even into hell, if any hell can be More painful then my grief, then thy great cruelty. Oh How Fortune favours my designs More then I looked for. She good reason hath, For I never asked her favour shamefastly. Great power she hath, and with good cause the world Calls her a puissant goddess: yet must we not fit still, For seldom idle folks prove fortunate. Had not my industry made me companion unto her, What would this fit occasion have availed me, To bring my purpose unto pass? Some fool Would have her rival shunned, and showed signs of Her jealousy, bearing and evil eye About, but that had be ill done, for easilier May one keep her from and open then a hidden foe. The covered rocks are those which do deceive The wisest mariners Who cannot friendship feign, Cannot truly hate. Now see what I can do, I am not such and ass to think she does not love, It might she make some other fool believe. But tush, I am the mistress of this art. A tender wench, Scarce from the cradle crept, in whom love hath Stilled but the first drops of his sweet, so long Pursued and woo worser by a worthy friend, And worse, , and ekist, and yet not love She is and ass that it believes. I'll not beleeu't. But see how Fortune favours me: Behold Where Amarillis is her self. I'll make As though I saw her not, and stand aside. Deer blessed woods, and you the silent groves Of rest and peace, the harbour-houses true: How willingly I turn to visit you. And if my stars had so be pleased to-have let Me live unto my self, I with th'elizian fields The happy gardens of the demy gods, Would not have changed your gentle shadow spots. If I judge right, these worldly goods are nought But muschiefes, still the richest have least goods, And he possesses most that is most poor. Riches are ever snares of liberty. What's fame of beauty worth in tender years? Or heavenly nobleness in mortal blood? So many favours, both of heaven and earth, Fields large, and happy, goodly meadow plains, Fat pastures, that do fatter flocks present, If in the same the heart be not content. Happy that shepherdess, whose scarcely knees, A poor, but yet a cleanly gown does reach: Rich in her self, only in nature's gifts. Who in sweet poverty, no poorness knows: Nor feels no tortures which this iches brings. Desire to have much, never does her torment, If she be poor, yet is she well content. She nature's gifts does nurse with nature's gifts, Making milk spring with milk, saucing her native sweet With honey of the Be, one fountain serveth her To drink, to wash, and for her looking glass. If she be well, then all the world is well. Let the clouds rise, and thunder threat amain, Her poverty does all the fear prevent, If she be poor, yet is she well content. Finely the flock committed to her charge Feeds on the grass, the while her shepherd friend Feeds on her eyes, not whom the stars, or men, Her destinies, but whom affection chooses. Then in the shadow of a M tell tree, Cherished, she cherishes again; nor does She feel that heat which she discovers not: Nor ever heat discover which she does not feel. Always declaring troth of her intent, If she be poor, yet is she well content. True life that knows not death before they die. Ah that I might my fortune change with theirs. But see Corisca. Gods save you good Corisca. I'll tell thee true, to day I went betime There where I herd that Silvio did intend A noble hunting to the savage Boor, At Erimantus foot, where Eliceit Puts up his head, not far off from the lawnd, That from the hill is severed by dissent, I found Mell mpo my fair Silvio's Dog, Whose thirst I think had drawn him to that place: I that each thing of Silvio held full deer, Shade of his shape, and footsteps of his feet, Much more the Dog which he so dearly loved, Him straightway took, and he without ado, Like to some gentle Cade, came quietly with me: Now while I cast this Dog to reconvey Home to his Lord and mine, hoping to make A conquest of his love by gift so deer, Behold he comes seeking his footsteps out, And here he stays. Dear Linco I will not Lose further time in telling every thing That betwixt us passed, but briefly to dispatch: After a heap of feigned vows and words, The cruel Boy fled from me straight away In ire'full mood with his thrice-happy Dog, And with my deer and sweetest sweet reward. O stay both pace and plaint (good Linco ) for The one my grief, my wound the other does increase. Silvio, let Linco speak, he does not know What sovereign tie thou over Dorinda hast, In life and death by the great power of Love. If thou hast shot me, thou hast shot thine own: Thou hitst the mark that's proper to thy shaft, These hands that wounded me, have followed right The aim of thy fair eyes. Silvio, behold her whom Thou hatest so, behold her as thou wouldst: Thou wouldst me wounded have, wounded I am: Thou wished me dead, I ready am for death, What wouldst thou more? What can I give thee more? Ah cruel Boy, thou never wouldst believe The wound by thee Love made, canst thou deny That which thy hand hath done? thou never sawest The blood mine eyes did shed; seest thou this then, That gusheth from my side: but if with pity now All gentleness and valour be not spent, Do not deny me cruel soul, I pray, At my last gasp, one poor and only sighs: Death should be blessed, if thou but thus wouldst say, Go rest in peace poor soul, I humbly pray. Silvio, I wound that breast? thou hadst not needs Let it be naked to mine eyes, if thou desirdst I should it wound. Oh dainty beauteous rock, So often beaten by the waves and winds Of my poor tears and sighs in vain: and is it true, Thou pity feelest? or am I wretch but mocked: I would not this same Alabaster skin Should me deceive, as this poor Beasts hath thee. I wound thy breast? t'is well, Love durst do so. I ask no wore revenge, then thou shouldst love. Blessed be the day wherein I first did burn, Blessed be my tears and all my martyrdoms: I wish thy praise, and no revenge of thee. But courteous Silvio, that dost kneel to her, Whose Lord thou art; since me thou needs wilt serve, Let thy first service be, to rise when I thee bid: The second, that thou livest: for me, let heavens Work their will; in thee my heart will live: As long as thou dost live, I cannot die. But if it seem unjust my wound should be Unpunished, then break this cruel Bow, Let that be all the malice thou dost show. No wonder t'is, the Dog could do no harm Unto their Masters . There stood I sort Of neighbour , Rather to see the . At every Beast My heart did quake: My soul step: But my chief hope the disterb'd, Of that immeasurable Boor , Like as the ravenous strength of storm In little time brings trees and rocks to ground: So by his tusks bedewed with blood and foam, We see Dogs slain, Staves broke, and wounded men. How many times did my poor blood desire For Silvio's blood to combat with the Boor, How often times would I have stepped to make My breast a buckler for my Silvio's breast, How often said I in my sefe, excuse, Excuse the dainty lap of my deer Love: So to my self spoke I with praying sighs, While he his Dog all armed with hardened skin, Lets lose against the Beast, who waxed proud Of having made a wretched quarries sighed Of wounded Shepherds and Dogs slain outright: Linca, I cannot tell this Dogs great worth, And Silvio loves him not without good cause. Look how and angry Lion entertains The pointed horns of some undaunted Bull, Sometime with force, sometime with policy, And fastens at the last his mighty paws So on his back as no pour can remou't: So strong Me p' avoiding craftily The Boors swift and mortal wounding blows: At last taints on his ear, which first he shakes, And afterwards so firmly him he holds, As his vast sides might wounded be at ease: The dismal token of a deadly stroke, The Silvio innocating Phoebes name, Du ct this blow (said he) and here I vow To sacrifice to thee his ghastly head. This l ed, from out his Q ver of pure gold, He takes a speedy Sha to, and to his ear He draws his mighty Bow, and straight the Boor Between his neck and shoulder wounded, die: I freed a sighs, seeing my Silvi safe. O happy beast mightest thy life so leave, By him that hearts from humane beasts does reave. Wounded with Love, who fears another hurt. Oh Linco, couldst thou but see here within, There shouldst thou see a living Wolf devour My wretched soul Like to a harmless Lamb. As if the heat of his disdain had been Of love unto my heart the greatest fire, So by his rage increased my desire: Yet still pursuing him unto the chase, Keeping my broken way, I Lupus met, Here thought I good with him to change my clothes, And in his servile habit me to hide, That amongst the Swains I for a Swain might pass, And at my pleasure see my Sila oh. I do not know, because I came away For fear of being seen: But I believe That solemnly they mean to carry it Unto the Temple, as my Silvio vowed. Yes wis full feign, but Liep e hath my Gown, And promised attend me at this Spring, But miss: deer Linco if thou lovest me Go seek him in these Woods, he is not far, I'll rest me in the mean time by this Den, For weerinesse makes me to sleep desire, Nor would I home return in this attire. Oh Linco L nco, O my second father! Dorinda to sustain, Linco hath been A fatal office unto thee: thou hardest The first cries that I ever gave on earth, And thou shalt hear the latest of my death: And these thine Arms, that were my Cradle once, Shall be my Coffin now. I but Dorinda mortal, will be quickly dead: But dost thou know who t'is hath wounded me? Why Linco, must I die Not knowing who hath given me my death? P so. On happy issue of my lives last end, If I be shune by such a lovely friend. Do not good Linco led Me to my father's house in this attire. Silvio I weary am, I cannot hold me on My wounded side. Oh now me thinks I am well. Sil. Linco hold fast. It does; but in thine arms my lovely treasure, I hold even pricking deer, and death a pleasure. Give me a pledge. I am ashamed. If you will promise me To give it, I will tell. A bloe on th'ear to one y to loves behold thy dog More courteous then thy self.