PALAEMON

I see I am undone. Thou art a malicious doting man, And one who cannot boast of any thing But that she calls thee father, though I cannot Number so large a flock of sheep as thou, Nor send so many cheeses to the City, Yet in my mind I am and Emperor If but compared with thee. Prithee good Wintor if thou wilt be talking, Keep thy breath in a little, for it smells Worse then a Goat; yet thou must talk, For thou hast nothing left thee of a woman But lust, and tongue I'm dumb, my lips are sealed, sealed up for ever May my rash tongue forget to be interpreter, And organ of my senses, if you say, It hath offended you. Give me my final answer, that I may Be either blessed for ever, or die quickly; Delay's a cruel rack, and kills by piecemeals. How now? whats the matter? The Gods forbid that I should mock my self, Cheat my own mind, I dance and weep at once? You may: Farewell. Exit. She hath undone me; I have plowed the Sea, And begotten storming billows, No more then thy least breath can stir and oak, Which hath this many years scorned the fierce wars Of all the winds. Lions are tamed, and become slaves to men, And Tigers oft forget the cruelty They sucked from their fierce mother's; but, a woman Ah me! a woman! — How pray? if gifts would do it, she hath had The daintiest Lambs, the hope of all my flock, I let my apples hang for her to gather, The painful Be did never load my hives, With honey which she tasted not. How then? if Poetry would do't, what shade Hath not been Auditor of my amorous pipe? What banks are not acquainted with her praises? Which I have sung in verses, and the shepherds Say they are good ones, nay they call me Poet, Although I am not easy to believe them. Why how? If show of grief had Rhetoric enough To move her, I dare swear she had been mine Long before this, what day did ere peep forth In which I wept not dulier then the morning? Which of the winds hath not my sighs increased At sundry times? how often have I cried Hylace, Hylace, till the docile woods Have answered Hylace ; and every valley As if it were my Rival, sounded Hylace. But alas! This will provoke her more. A match; I'll try always; she can but scorn me, There is this good in depth of misery That men may attempt any thing, they know The worst before hand. Exeunt. How happy is that man, who in these woods With secure silence wears away his time! Who is acquainted better with himself Then others; who so great a stranger is To City folly's, that he knows them not. He sits all day upon some mossy hill His rural throne armed with his crook, his sceptre, A flowery garland is his country crown; The gentle lambs and sheep his loyal Subject's Which every year pay him their fleecy tribute; Thus in and humble stateliness and majesty He tunes his pipe, the woods best melody, And is at once, what many Monarchs are not Both King and Poet. I could gladly wish To spend the rest of my unprofitable, And needless days in their innocuous sports, But then my father, mother, and my brother Recurse unto my thoughts, and straight pluck down The resolution I had built before; Love names Philistus to me, and o'th' sudden The woods seem base, and all their harmless pleasures The daughters of necessity, not virtue. Thus with my self I wage a war, and am To my own rest a traitor; I would feign Go home, but still the thought of Aphron frights me. How now? who's here? o it's fair Hylace The grumbling shepherd's daughter. Enter Hylace. Brightest of all those stars that paint the woods, And grace these shady habitations, You're welcome, how shall I requite the benefit Which you bestow upon so poor a stranger With your fair presence? Whom all the Nymphs (though women use to be) As you know, envious of another's beauty) Confess the pride and glory of these woods. No; I'll try that straight I have a present here— Which if you'll give me leave, I shall presume To dedicate to your service. O! have you found a tongue? I thought I had not been worth and answer? Pray get you gone, or hold your prating tongue; For whatsoever thou sayest I will not hear A syllable, much less answer thee. Would, would, would, What should I love a stone? or woo a picture? Alas! I must be gone, for whatsoever I say, you will not hear a syllable Much less answer; go, you think you are, So singularly handsome, when alas, Galla, Menalca's daughter, Bellula, Or Amaryllis overcome you quite. Perhaps I do; I'll not tell you, because you'll envy them, And always be dispraising of their beauty's. Would, would, would. Alupis dost thou hear her? she'll cry presently, Do not despair yet girl, by your good carriage You may recall me still; some few entreaties Mingled with tears may get a kiss perhaps. Is this your art? A lovers curse upon it; O! Alupis Thou hast done worse then murdered me: for which May all thy flocks pine and decay Like me, May thy cursed wit hurt all; but most its Master, Mayest thou (for I can wish no greater ill) Love one Like me, and be, Like me, contemned. Thou'ast all the darts my tongue can fling at thee, But I will be revenged some other way Before I die, which cannot now be long. Thou art my better Genius, honest Aegon, My self, my soul, my friend, Let me hug thee Alupis, and thee Aegon, Thee for inventing it, thee for putting it In act; But do you think the plot will hold? Before when you denied your Daughter to me 'Twas Fortune's fault, not mine, but since good Fate Or rather Aegon, better far then Fate Hath raised me up to what you aimed at, riches, I see not with what countenance you can Coin any second argument against me. Which is impossi' — Come, what say you Melarnus? Blame not my fear: that's Cupid's Usher always; Though Hylace were now in my embraces, I should half doubt it. Alas! that was not all, as I came by The oak to Faunus sacred, where the shepherd's Exercise rural sports on Festivals, On that trees top and inauspicious Crow Foretold some ill to happen. He looks cheerfully, I hope all's well? I am amazed; Good Aegon speak to him. The light appears, just Like the rising Sun, When over yond hill it peeps, and with a draught Of morning Due salutes the day, how fast The night of all my sorrow flies away, Quite banished with her sighed! Will you be gone so quickly, ôh! bright Hylace That blessed hour by me so often begged, By you so oft denied, is now approaching. How now? Damoetas? Why what hath he to do with her? Fool as thou art, the Sun shall loose his course And brightness too, ere Hylace her chastity. O no! ye Gods, may she be happy always, Happy in the embraces of Damoetas ; And that shall be some comfort to my Ghost When I am dead; and dead I shall be shortly. A curse upon thee, This is the second time that thy persuasions Made me not only fool, but wicked too; I should have died in quiet else, and known No other wound, but that of her denial; Go now, and brag how thou hast used Palaemon, But yet me thinks you might have chosen some other For subject of your mirth, not me. First make us wretched, And then laugh at us? believe, Alupis, Thou shalt not long have cause to boast thy villainy. With far more joy Then I would do the wealth of both the Indies, Thou art above a father to me, Aegon. W'are freed from misery with sense of joy, We are not born so; o! my Hylace, It is my comfort now that thou Wertenberg hard, And cruel till this day, delights are sweetest? When poisoned with the trouble to attain them. For it's but a folly, &c By your leave, I come to seek a woman, That hath outlived the memory of her youth, With skin as black as her teeth, if she have any, With a face would fright the Constable and his watch Out of their wits (and that's easily done you'll say) if they should meet her at midnight. Oh! are you there? I thought I smelled you somewhere; Come hither my she Nestor, pretty Truga, Come hither, my sweet Duck. Alupis art thou there? forgive my anger, I am the happiest man alive, Alupis, Hylace is mine, here are more wonders too, Thou shalt know all anon. For all my services, the virtuous zeal And constancy with which I ever wooed you, Though I were blacker then a starless night, Or consciences where gilded and horror dwell, Although splay-legd, crooked, deformed in all parts, And but the Chao's only of a man; Yet if I love and honour you, humanity Would teach you not to hate, or laugh at me. You're a woman; A cruel and found woman, and my passion Shall trouble you no more; but when I'm dead My angry Ghost shall vex you worse then now Your pride does me, Farewell. Whom; or where? It's a hard lesson for my mind to Iearne, But I would force my self, if that would help me I'll warrant you; you have instructed me enough, She comes. Fair creature— Thou whom the stars might envy because they are Outshone by thee on earth. Alupis, ôh! We have incensed her too much! how she looks? Prithee Alupis help me to entreat, You know we did but jest, deer Hylace, Alupis, prithee speak, best, beauteous Hylace, I did but doe't to try you, pray forgive me, Upon my knees I beg it. Eternal night involve me! if there be A punishment, (but sure there is not any) Greater then what her anger hath inflicted, May that fallen on me too? how have I fooled Away my Hope's? how have I been my self To my own self a thief? Nay, do not follow me, grief, passion And troubled thoughts are my companions, Those I had rather entertain then thee, If you choose this way let me go the other, And in both parts distracted error, thee May revenge quickly meet, may death meet me. Exit. Why do you think that Poesy And art which even the Gods— That's I, hence fears; Attend upon the infancy of love, She's now mine own. The Gods convert these omens into good: And mock my fears; thrice in the very threshold, Without its Master's leave my foot stood still, Thrice in the way it stumbled: