GALATEA

Father, you have devised well, and while our flock does roam up and down this pleasant green, you shall recount to me, if it please you, for what cause this Tree was dedicated unto Neptune, and why you have thus disguised me. To hear these sweet marvels, I would mine eyes were turned also into ears. What condition will not miserable men ac cept? Dear is the peace that is bought with gilded less blood. And she bound to endure that horror? Does this Monster devour her? Alas father, and why so? Father, I have been attentive to hear, and by your patience am ready to answer. Destiny may be deferred, not prevented; and therefore it were bet ter to offer my self in triumph, then to be drawn to it with dishonour. Hath nature (as you say) made me so fair above all, and shall not virtue make me as fa mous as others? Do you not know, (or doth over carefulness make you forget) that and honourable death is to be preferred before and infamous life. I am but a child, and have not lived long, and yet not so childish, as I de sire to live ever: virtues I mean to carry to my graven, not grey hairs. I would I were as sure that destiny would light on me, as I am resolved it could not fear me. Nature hath give ̄ me beauty, Virtue courage, Nam ture must yield me death, Virtue honour. Suffer me therefore to die, for which I was born, or let me curse that I was born, sith I may not die for it. The destiny to me cannot be so hard as the disguising hateful. They were beastly gods, that lust could make them seem as beasts. BLush Gallathea that must frame thy affec cion fit for thy habit, and therefore be thought immodest, because thou art unfortunate. Thy tender years cannot dissemble this deceit: nor thy sex bear it. Oh would the gods had made me as I seem to be, or that I might safely be what I seem not. Thy Father dotes Gallathea, whose blind love cor rupteth his fond judgement, and jealous of thy death, seems to dote on thy beauty, whose fond care carri eth his partial eye as far from truth, as his heart is from ̄ falsehood. But why dost thou blame him or blab what thou art, when thou shouldst only counterfeit what thou art not. But whist, here comes a lad: I will learn of him how to behave my self. I perceive that boys are in as great disliking of themselves as maids, therefore though I wear the apparel, I am glad I am not the person. I would salute him, but I fear I should make a curtsy in steed of a leg. All the blood in my body would be in my face, if he should ask me (as the question among men is common) are you a maid? You are deceived Lady. No fair boy. Whose Dear was it Lady? I saw none but mine own Dear. I know not how it comes to pass, but yonder boy is in mine eye too beautiful, I pray gods the Ladies think him not their Dear. I must if you command, and would if you had not. Exeunt. How now Gallathea? miserable Gallathea, that having put on the apparel of a boy, thou canst also put on the mind. Oh fair Melebeus, I too fair, and therefore I fear, too proud. Had it not been better for thee to have been a sacrifice to Neptune, then a slave to Cupid? to die for thy Country, then to live I thy fancy? to be a sacrifice, then a Lover? Oh would when I hunted his eye with my heart, he might have seen my heart with his eyes. Why did Nature to him a boy give a face so fair, or to me a virgin a fortune so worser? I will now use for the distaff the bow, and play at quaites abroad, that was wont to sow I my Same pler at home. It may be Gallathea, foolish Gallathea, what may be? nothing. Let me follow him into the Woods, and thou sweet Venus be my guide. There is a Tree in Tylos, whose nuts have shells Like fire, and being cracked, the karnell is but water. I would not wish to be a woman, unless it were because thou art a man. A strange humour in so pretty a youth, and according to mine, for my self will never love a woe man. If it be a shame in me, it can be no come dation in you, for your self is of that mind. Admit that I were, as you would have me suppose that you are, and that I should with entreaties, prayers, oaths, bribes, and what ever can be invented in love, desire your favour, would you not yield? And you with suppose. What dread riseth in my mind, I fear the boy to be as I am a maiden. Yet I do not think it, for he would then have blushed. If I had but one my brother must needs have two, but I pray have you ever a one? Aye me, he is as I am, for his speeches be as mine are. I have known diverse of Diana's Nymph's enamored of him, yet hath he rejected all, either as too proud to disdain, or too childish not to understand, or for that he knoweth himself to he a Virgin. I, so you would love me before all Diana's Nymph's. Why should not I as well as you? If you had been a Maiden too I need not to have feared, because you are fairer. These be fair words, but far from thy true thoughts, I know mine own face in a true Glass, and desire not to see it in a flattering mouth. No I will not, but love thee better, because I cannot love as a brother. I accept that name, for diverse before have called me Mistress. Nay there lie the Mistress. No. Because I dreamed that if I were there, I should be turned to a virgin, and then being so fair (as thou sayest I am) I should be offered as thou knowest one must. But will not you be there. Why then you are in danger. I am agreed, for then my fear will be passed. Nothing but that you love me not. Exit. I cannot conjecture the cause, but I fear the event. I would he did, then should I have no fear. Unfortunate Gallathea if this be Phillida. And wast thou all this while enamoured of Phillida, that sweet Phillida? I had thought the habit agreeable with the Sex, and so burned in the fire of mine own fancies. Yes Phillida. GO all, 'tis I only that conclude all. You Ladies may see, that Venus can make constancy fickleness, courage cowardice, modesty lightness, working things impossible in your Sex, and tempering hardest hearts Like softest wool. Yield Ladies, yield to love Ladies, which lurks under your eyelids while you sleep, and playeth with your heart strings while you wake: whose sweetness never bree death satiety, labour weariness, nor grief bitterness. Cupid was begotten in a mist, nursed in Clouds, and sucking only upon conceits. Confess him a Conque rer, whom ye ought to regard, sith it is unpossible to resist, for this is infallible, that Love conquereth all things but it self, and Ladies all hearts but their own. I willingly attend. I will never love any but Phillida, her love is engraved in my heart, with her eyes. Die Gallathea if thy love be not so. I wish it, so I may enjoy Phillida.