SILVIO

To thee perhaps, that art not yet awake, All things do seem a sleep. Thy counsel ( Linco ) is Like unto thy self. So would I, were I Linco, but I Silvio am, Therefore I Silvio's deeds do Like, not Lincoes. Art thou in earnest? or dost thou but jest? And is he then so near? Where? in what wood? Was't not well gest of me thou didst but jest? If to relinquish love be cruelty, Then is it virtue, and I not repent That I have banished love my heart: but joy That thereby I have overcome this love, A beast more dangerous then th'other far. Not proving it, I have it overcome. Linco, I swear a thousand Nymphs I'll give For one poor beast that my Melampo kills: Let them that have a better taste then I In these delights possess them, I will none. As though there were no life but that which nursed These amorous sollies and found ecstasies. Was then my youth committed to thy charge? That in these soft effeminate desires Of wanton love, thou shouldst it nurse and train? Remembrest not what thou, and what I am? Neither so famous nor so valiant Had be that monster-tamer, of whose blood I do derive my self, had he not tamed love. What sayest thou Linco? she's not yet my spouse. The gift of heaven is humane liberty, May we not force repel, that force receive? I him sure that gods have other things to do Then trouble and molest them with these toys. Linco, nor this, nor that love pleases me, I was a huntsman not a lover born, Thou that dost follow love thy pleasure take. Vohoho, Melampo ho. Oh wretched me, whither shall I go To follow thee my deer, my faithful dog? The dales, the mountains, I have sought with care, All weary now I am. Cursed be the beast Thou didst pursue. But see a Nymph, perhaps She can tell news of him. Out upon her, T'is she that's still so troublesome to me. I must dissemble. Fair and gracious Nymph, Did you my good Melampo see to day? Or fair or soul, did you not see my dog? Answer to this, or I am quickly gone. Nymph, I Melampo came to seek, not to lose time, Farewell. Thouiests Dorinda. (Do.) Silvio, I protest By that deer love that me thy handmaid makes, I know where thy Melampo is that coursed the do. How did he lose her? Both in your power? Dear Dorinda, quickly give me him. Good reason too, but yet her I'll deceive. Two guilded apples Which my mother gave me yesterday. What wouldst thou have, a kid, A lamb? Ah but my father gives me no such leave. Wilt thou nought but my love? I give it thee. Now my deer Nymph Give me my dog and do. Hear me fair Nymph, thou ever tellest me of A certain love, I know not what it is. Thou dost desire I should thee love, and so I do. As far forth as I can, or understand, Thou callest me cruel, and I know not cruelty. Tell me, what kind of thing is this same love? Nymph, no more words, give me my dog and do. Have I not given it? what a stir is here, Her to cnntent: take it, do what thou wilt, Who does forbid thee? what wouldst thou have more? What would you have? why do you linger thus? No trust me Nymph. Are you ashamed to speak, and not ashamed It to receive? Thou art more subtle much then I. To say the troath, I am no Prophet I, You must speak if you'll have me understand. A blow on th'eare? Sometime she makes much of me with one of the ̄ . I'll kiss thee thousand times poor cur. Hast thou no harm in running poor Melampo? I understand you not. How's she alive, hath not my dog her killed? Is this the Do, the game you told me of? I neither hold thee deer nor Like of thee: But hate thee bruit, vild, lying filth. It is Dorinda sure: Ah voice; ah sighed. On earth hold open thy jaws and swallow me. O what a hard reward most wretched Nymph, Had thou received for thy wondrous love? Why stay I still? Shall I stay while they see me? Have I so bold a face? Fly Silvio fly The punishment of that revengeful sighed, Fly the just edge of her sharp cutting voice: I cannot fly, fatal necessity does hold Me here, and I makes me seek whom most I ought to shun. Ah my Dorinda, shall I call thee mine, That art not mine, but when I thee must lose: And when thou ast thy death received by me, Not when I might have given thee thy life: Yet will I call thee mine, that mine shalt be Spite of my fortune: and since with thy life I cannot have thee, I'll have thee in death: All that thou seest in me, is ready for revenge: I killed thee with these weapons, with the same I'll kill my self: I cruel was to thee, I now desire nothing but cruelty. I proudly thee despi'd, upon my knees I humbly thee adore, and pardon crave; But not my life. Behold my Bow, my Shafts. Wound not mine eyes or hands, th'are innocent: But wound my breast, monster to pity, foe To love: wound me this heart, that cruel was To thee: behold, my breast is bore. Shall my Dorinda go to other house Then unto mine? no sure: alive or dead This day I'll marry thee. Be of good cheer, Thou shalt a burden be to us most deer. Linco give me thy hand. Hold fast, and with our arms we'll make a seat For her. Fit there Dorinda, and with thy right hand Hold Lincoes neck, and with thy left close mine: Softly my heart, for rushing of thy wound. Tell me Dorinda, does thy wound still prick? O curtuous doom: and so't shall be, Thou deadly Wood shalt pay the price of others life, Behold, I break thee, and I render thee Ʋ unto the Woods, a trunk unprofitable: And you my Shafts that pierced have the side Oh my fair Love, because you brother's be I put you both together, and deliver you, Rods armed in vain, and vainly feathered. Was true Love told me late in Echoes voice. Oh powerful tamer both of Gods and men: Late enemy, now Lord of all my thoughts, I thou esteemest it glory to have mollified A proud obdurate heart, Defend me from The fatal stroke of death? one only blow Killing Dorinda, will me with her kill: So cruel death, if cruel death she prove, Will triumph over thee triumphant love. What pledge? And why? I promise you. Nor she nor any else Does kiss me. But perhaps youled have a kiss. You answer not, your blushing you accuseth, I am content, but give me first my dog. T'is true, I have promised thee. Tush what a stir is here? I will. Oh happy me. Oh my most deer Melampo. Is she alive? So much more welcome she'is. Thou mockest: How can she live and wounded in the heart? Vo ho ho, Melampo ho,