NERINA

Thou art in love, I warrant, art thou not? Trust me Sweetheart, I cannot choose but wonder, To think that one of such a comely grace (I do not flatter you) could sue to any For love, who are much fitter to be loved: Scorn him as as he does thee, for men Love us no more, when we love them again. With me? then tell me where, and see how soon I shall restore it you. Aside. Well, if my heart be such as you will make it, I am so much the gladder; that it is Of strength to be a fence unto my honour. What if within It keep a dog of prey, would they be safe? For my partly I'll not cherish in my breast, The man that would undo my chastity. Yes, yes, you may remember, I blush to tell it you, when first my thoughts Were pure and simple, (as I hope they are Still, and will so continue, while I fly Such company as you) I thought you one Whom never any flame impure had touched: Then we conversed without suspect together. The cause I shall tell you, Since you will not remember; though it be Unfit for me to speak, yet you shall know How just my anger is. When tending of my flocks Under the shade of yonder Myrtle tree. (Which bears the gilded of your soul misdemeanour) My maid Corisca cried out for my help, Because a be had stung her in the face: You herd me speak in pity of her smart, A charm, my mother taught me, (that being said Close to the place affected, takes away The pain) which gave her ease, but you uncivil, Turning my courtesy to your vile ends, Feigned you were stung too, and cried out, your lips Had from the same sharp point received a wound; Prayed me to say the same charm over there. I charitably lent my help to you, Mistrusting nothing of your purposes, When with ungentle hands you held me fast, And for my thanks gave me a lustful kiss, Canst thou remember this, and yet not blush? Oh impudence! Well shepherd look You never see me more, I cannot love At all, or if at all, not you: let this Settle your thoughts. What is your pleasure Father? Sir, I would marry whom you please to give me: I neither can, nor ought to make my choice, I would refer that to you: But you know My inclination never lay to marry. Now heaven forbid, that I who have thus long Vowed to Diana my Virginity, To follow her a Huntress in these Woods, Should yield my self to the impure delights Of Hymen, and so violate my faith. Alas, I would you did, Then your discourse would tend another way. Ay me most miserable! Oh most ungrateful chance! how I do hate The sighed of him! And to you shepherd. Shepherd, I oft have wished you not to trouble Me and your self with words: I cannot love you. Some body else may love you, I cannot. How can I help it, if your destiny Led you to love, where you may not obtain? No Daphnis, it's not hardness of my heart, Nor any cruelty that causes this. Nor is it that: I do not see in Daphnis any thing To cause disdain. What's that? Give her thy heart, She has deserved it, for she loves thee, Daphnis. Stay good Dorinda, I'll go with thee, stay. If I refuse it, My father will be angry, let me see it: Here take thy glass again: what ails my head? I know not where I am, it is so giddy: And something Like a drousinesse has seized My vital spirits. Heavy o'th sudden; I'll go home, & sleep. All is in vain, I cannot live; deer father Farewell: what shepherd's that lies on the ground? Is it not Hylas? Alas poor shepherd, 'tis my greatest grief, That I have grieved him, I would beg life For nothing but to make him satisfaction. It cannot be: good father Let me go to him, and but touch his ear, It may be that my voice may have more virtue. Hylas, Hylas, speak, Nerina calls thee; speak to thy Nerina. How feign I would Forthy sake, Hylas, but it cannot be: I feel a heavy sleep fit on my head, And my strength fails me, help me sweet Dorinda, Farewell for ever: o I die, I die. Hylas. You Fates, that keep the account of all our days, Add but one minute to my life, that I May quit my soul of those two heavy burdens Which now oppress it: Dry your eyes good father, Remember that the Gods do send us nothing But for our good; and if my journey be Shorter then yours, the less will be my trouble: Will you forgive me father, that I have not Paid so much duty to you; as I owed you: Take my good will, I pray, instead of it. Shall I dare To speak my thoughts, and so discharge my soul Of one load yet? I've herd you say, that no sin was so heavy As is ingratitude. Then be not angry, if I now must tell you, That this poor shepherd, whose swollen eyes you see Covered with tears, for many years now passed Has courted me: but still with such a love, So full of truth and gentle services, That should I not requite him with my love, I should be guilty of ingratitude: Therefore before I die, spray give leave That he may have my dying heart, which living, I still debarred him of. Hylas, thy hand. Oh stay a little death: here, take thou mine, And since I cannot live the wife of Hylas, Yet let me die so: Sir, are you content? Tell me, are you so Hylas? Then let me die, take me into thy Arms, Sweet love, you'll see my coffin strewed with flowers, And you Dorinda, will you make a garland? I die a virgin, though I die his wife. You Gods where am I now? what place is this? What light is this I see? are the same things Seen in this new world, as they are in the other? Or in the grave do men see waters, trees, As I do now, and all things as I lived? But sure I live still: if I do, why then Was I here buried amongst these flowers? Sure I am dead; but yet I walk and speak, And I have herd that those who once are dead, Can never use their voice, or Actium: But who is this I see here? Daphnis, would! Are you dead too, as well as I? I, so said Hylas, whilst I lived with him. But tell me Daphnis, in what place am I? And so said Hylas, when we lived together. Must they in this new world, As they have changed their lives, so change their loves, I never shall do that. Not dead? how came I hither then? But will you not declare, how I came hither? Stay shepherd, whither would you have me go? But tell me Daphnis, was not I once dead? I know not what you mean, Can you change death into a sleep? This is a riddle, Pray let me know what you do mean by it. Nay, tell me first. What was that? You did, but what of that? But tell me first. To what purpose Did you do this? Yours, Daphnis? How could you hope that without my consent? But could you practice tricks on those you love? Now you are paid with your own Artifice: For know, ther's none that can dispose of me But Hylas, who has long preserved my heart, And now my father, (whom I did resolve For ever to obey) has made him mine, By giving his consent, which had not been But for this trick of yours. Love you? know I had Rather embrace my death again, then thee. Help me shepherd's, help. Hylas, come help me, seest thou not that Daphnis Will ravish me? Will you see me ravished Before your face? Oh Hylas! o my Love! O help my love, Mirtillus. Oh father, do you think that I am dead, I am alive, as you are; touch me, see. Daphnis, whom you would have to be my husband, Brought me to this supposed death and grave. By the glass You bid me I should take: he has confessed To me that it was poisoned. I forgive him: For though it was ill meant, yet did it sort By accident unto my good. Alas poor wench, tell me who is the man Made up of so much rigid cruelty, That I may shun him wheresoever I go. No. Then it must be Daphnis. Daphnis, that woes my father to win me, He is my daily suitor, now I know How much he owes to pity, and to thee: Until he pay that debt, I shall despise him. Love him? I know no greater misery, Then to love one that's not of humane raze, A Tiger rather, but a Tiger is More mild then he. Yes many, that I could tell how to love Rather then him: for why should I love him While Hylas lives and languishes for me? Hylas who loved me in my infancy, And being then a boy was never well If I was absent, nor indeed was I Content with any but his company. Our flocks still fed together, I on him, And he on me did feed his greedy eyes. Since though his years have styled him man, he has Continued that first love with such respects, So full of innocence and simple truth, That howsoever my outward coyness is, My heart within tells me, it's only his: Ay me! my father! prithee let's away. Prithee no more of him, I hate his name As much, as I would do the lose of honour, Which he injuriously would rob me off, No, no, Dorinda, if by love I be In hrald to any, Daphnis is not he.