Act 5 — THE SHEPHERDS' HOLIDAY. (continued 2)

Hyl. This is the place where I am come to pay My tears' first sacrifice upon this tomb That glories in the spoils of all my wealth. Ner. Hylas, come help me; see'st thou not that Daphnis Will ravish me? Hyl. Ha! what do I hear? The voice of my Nerina! so she spake When she did live; but now, alas! she's dead. Some devil mocks me with a vision, And voice unto it. Ner. Will you see me ravish'd Before your face? O Hylas! O my love! Hyl. Tis she, it is no vision: hold, ravisher, My love thou canst not take without my life.

Mir. What noise is this? Mon. Some shriek much like a woman's. Ner. O, help my love, Mirtillus! Mir. Shepherd, hold; Let go this nymph. Daph. Or death or victory Shall crown my enterprise. Char. Who makes this outcry? Mir. Sir, I shall cool you, if you be so hot. Char. My daughter here! was she not buried? Away, foul spirit, away! Let's part these shepherds. Ner. O father, do you think that I am dead? I am alive, as you are; touch me, see. Char. She is alive indeed! How cam'st thou hither? Ner. Daphnis, whom you would have to be my husband, Brought me to this supposed death and grave. Char. By what strange means, Nerina? Ner. By the glass You bid me I should take: he has confess'd To me that it was poison'd. Char. Can it be? Can Daphnis do this? He had little reason. Daph. She was a fool to cry; I should ha' pleas'd her Ere this, perhaps. Char. Here, Hylas, take my daughter, For she is thine: you, Daphnis, I did further In all I could, till you would find a trick To put yourself beside her. Ner. I forgive him: For though it was ill-meant, yet did it sort By accident unto my good. Mon. But will Our laws permit a ravisher to live? Hyl. No, no, Montanus: let him live, and envy Our present happiness. Daph. Cover, you gods, The world in public ruin, or else show me A way to hide my shame. Mon. What will he do? Mir. He will go hang himself: what plots he had To fool himself with! Mon. They that practise tricks, Find them as jades, that throw 'em first, then kick 'em, As his has done. Char. Come, shepherds, let's away, And solemnise these nuptials. Mir. Stay, Montanus, Did the king send for you? Mon. He did. Mir. And how? Mon. The message came from Thyrsis. Mir. I'll go with you: 'Tis strange the king should send for you: pray heaven Thyrsis have done no mischief there: he's handsome, Of a good grace and moving eloquence: Perhaps some lady may have taken him Up for herself, and he, I'll lay a wager, Will be so squeamish that, if Sylvia Come in his mind, he ne'er will do her reason, And then her plot will be how to betray him— Would I were in his place! Mon. I would thou wert, So he were safe. Mir. I would comply, ne'er fear it; They live a heavenly life of love in court To that which we do here; a mistress there Will satisfy the longings of her lover, And never trouble Hymen for the matter: Then, if they like not, they may look elsewhere. Mon. Thou wilt be punish'd one day for thy mischief. Mir. The mischief's in my tongue, I ne'er do any. Mon. No, I have heard that Stella was with child By thee, and thou must father it. Mir. Who—I? Take me at that once—fathering of children, And make me common father of them all! A child's a pretty thing, and I should joy To see one of mine own. I'll tell thee truth, Montanus. By this hand, I never lay With any woman in my life. Mon. How then? You have courted all; who is it that Mirtillus Has not profess'd to love? Mir. I do confess it, And that is all I could do; for before I could get earnest of any one's love, To whom I made address, even she would say: You have another mistress, go to her, I will not be her stale: and so by this means, Nor this nor that would do me any reason. Mon. You had ill luck, it seems; 'twas not your fault. Mir. No, for if they would believe me, I did swear I had no other. Pray, Montanus, tell me—— For you have known the several ways of wooing, Which is the best and safest? Mon. O Mirtillus, Grey hairs have put the wilder thoughts of love Out of my head; cold blood and frozen limbs Fright all those heats away, in place of which Discretion and sobriety should come. Mir. But, I have heard, old men do sometimes love. Mon. They doat, Mirtillus—give it the right name; In old men's bloods Cupid does quench his flames. But as we go, I'll tell thee: not to love At all is best; but if you needs must love, Love one, and seek no further. Thou wilt find Enough of her, if once she prove unkind.

There is no way t' avoid the shame of this. Each shepherd's boy, that sings unto his flock, Will make me the scorn'd subject of his song. Alc. Had you been sudden, as I counsell'd you, You had not fail'd: but you young men do never Go through with anything. Daph. For heaven's sake, Call not that wicked deed to my remembrance. I do repent me that I e'er begun it: I would not for a world have ended it: Nerina's chaste and fair, and I a villain. Leave me, I pray; for something tells me you Did first advise me to this damned act. Alc. Nay, if you prize my friendship at this rate, I'll leave you to your penance. [Exit. Daph. This old man Is full of malice; nothing troubles him. The ills that he has done fly from his thoughts, And he rejoices that he did them quaintly; I have begun my youth as if I meant To have my age so punish'd as his is.

Who's this? Dorinda! I have done her wrong: I sued for love to her first, which obtain'd, I stuck disgraces on her; let me ask Forgiveness now, for 'twere too much to hope That she should love one stain'd with such a deed As I have done, so foul and impious. Dor. Great love, if yet thou art not satisfied With all the wrongs I have sustain'd for thee; My blood, I hope, thy anger will appease, Which thou may'st glut thyself with. Daph. Gentle nymph. Dor. I've been too gentle, do not mock me with't: O Daphnis! is it you? This is not well To mock me thus; your looks, when arm'd with frowns, Gave not my heart so deep a wound as this. Daph. I mean no scorn; I come to ask your pardon For what I've done already, not to heap More sins upon my head. Dor. 'Tis very strange. Daph. But true, Dorinda; will you spit upon me? Take your revenge, for I have well deserv'd it. Dor. But is this serious, Daphnis? O, take heed, Crack not my heart with such a load of grief And scorn, so press'd as this is: if you do, The gods will punish it; for though they have Neglected me thus long, they will revenge Such injuries as these. Daph. My many ills Discredit my repentance: if my words Can find no faith with you, believe my tears: Indeed they are not feign'd. Dor. Even so you look'd When first you stole my heart: but I forgive you, Whate'er become of me, I still must love you. Daph. Forgive me first, and then I will begin By my endeavours and true services To deserve something of you, if not love. Dor. There is not that hard-heartedness in man Which I did think, for he repents, I see. O Daphnis! if thou mean'st not this as scorn, Take me into thine arms, and I will be Thy slave. Daph. O, say not so; let me Rather be thine; it will be pride in me To be ambitious of it. Dor. O my heart! What sudden joy thou strik'st into it now! But yet methinks I fear thou dost not love me. Daph. Why should you fear? By Pan, you are to me Whate'er you can imagine; equal—above All that I e'er thought fair; and if you be Content to hide my faults, and take me to Your nuptial bed, which yet I dare not hope— But if you will, whene'er that day shall come, Th' embraces of my love and me shall be Such, as the Cyprian boy from our abundance Shall take his fires to kindle other hearts, Yet leave with us a flame which we will cherish, And keep alive unto eternity. Dor. Women are ever credulous—most then, When knowledge of the truth would but afflict them. I dare not now distrust you, though I knew What you have said were false: it has a semblance Of such a pleasing truth: give me thy hand, And take thou mine; whilst we walk thus entwin'd, I shall think Daphnis never was unkind. [Exeunt.

What, are they dead? is the king's will obey'd? Cle. No, sir, they live, and Hymen in his bands Has tied them both; the happiest knot that e'er Knit two such equal hearts and loves together. O, I'm ravish'd with the news: my joy Is greater now than if sh' had been the daughter Unto our king, and I had married her. Eub. I am amaz'd; pray Jove thou be'st not mad. Cle. Somewhat exalted, sir, beyond myself, But yet not mad. Go, sir, unto the king; Tell him Cleander lives to make him happy. Eub. Sure, thou wilt come unto thyself anon! Prythee, bethink thee. Cle. Yes, sir, I do think, And know that I have news to make him live, And you an age yet longer. Eub. This is strange. Cle. 'Tis true. Eub. But what is true? Cle. 'Tis true, my sister Shall be a queen. Eub. If she do live, I think She will; but yet you know we were commanded To cut that life off. Cle. But your hasty son, That came so speedy with a fatal message, Was not so forward now; they both do live, And both are married. Eub. Jupiter forbid! Cle. The Fates command it, 'tis their proper work: The shepherd is a prince—your prince and mine, And married to my sister. Eub. Ha! what's that? Prythee, digest thy troubled thoughts, and tell me What prince is this thou mean'st? Cle. Archigenes. Eub. Thou dream'st: it cannot be. Cle. No? then come forth, You royal pair, and testify yourselves.

Syl. Father, your blessing. Eub. Ha! Cle. Nay, I've told all. She knows she is your daughter: look, sir, here; Here we must place our reverence. Eub. Who's this? Cle. Not yet? Then look upon this circle, that You know for certain, though you know not him. Eub. 'Tis it—it is the same: Archigenes, Son of Euarchus and Eudora: This is my character, and this my seal. Thyr. Sir, I have heard that by your piety My infant life was sav'd: now by the goodness, Deriv'd from you unto your son, I have Not only found my life, but my content. The sum of all my hopes—this lady here, Without whose love my life had been a torment. Syl. And I the happiest maid that ever was, Conducted by the power of simple love, Have found, in place of him I thought a shepherd, A princely lover. Eub. Rise, Calligone: The gods are just, I see, that, favouring My innocence, have brought this match about. But say, Cleander, what fate guided thee To this discovery? Cle. Sir, should I tell you How many ways I cast to save my sister After the fatal message which I brought, I should be tedious, and keep you from What you do long to hear: in short, I soon Resolv'd to make away this royal shepherd: And knowing that, in this affair, to keep it Secret, despatch was needful, I commanded A servant, of whose faith and courage I Was well-assur'd, to kill him in my presence. Eub. 'Tis strange thou shouldst be present at a murder. Cle. 'Twas a necessity was laid upon me, Because I would be sure to see him dead. I bade him choose his death; when manfully He said he car'd not how, so he might die. I knew to strangle him was the readiest way, Which death himself was ready to embrace: This his so noble resolution Did startle me from mine; my servants' hands Trembled for fear, Presaging what a sin they were to act: He bade him be assur'd he would not start. And often call'd him to despatch him quickly. Syl. What man could have a heart for such a deed, And see his face? Cle. The prince, before he came To put the fatal twist about his neck, Besought me, as I ever hop'd for peace, I should preserve the princess; this I promis'd, And whatsoever else he would desire. He answered, nothing now, but hasty death; Then stripping off his doublet, I espied With a quick eye this golden circle here, When hastily I bid my servant hold, And let him go. He ask'd me why I stay'd; I told him that about his neck was sacred. He would have rent it off, but I forbad it. Eub. What did you then? Cle. Sir, I did well remember What I had heard of th' oracle and you, Which, with the computation of his years, I found agreeing to make up a truth; Which you before assur'd me. Then I ask'd him Whether he would be married to the princess Before he died; he thought that I had mock'd him, And said I practis'd tyranny upon him. Then went I to my sister, and desir'd The same of her. In fine, I saw them both Join hands and hearts together; but the prince Thought this a dream of life, which certain death Would wake him from, until I did assure him Of his great state, and that his love, whom now He thought to be the princess, was my sister; All which I did refer unto your knowledge. Eub. This day for ever let it holy be, And you, whom love has brought through deep despair Unto the haven of your happiness, Enjoy each other freely. Of you, brave shepherd, But now my prince, I shall inquire anon Where and with whom you liv'd. Thyr. Sir, the shepherd Whom I call father stays without. Montanus His name is, by whose gentle hands (as he Has often told me) I was rescu'd first From cold and death, since under his kind roof Foster'd, and bred as his. Eub. Go, call him in.

You're welcome both; you may applaud your fortune That brought you such a shepherd. Stay all here, Whilst I go to the king. This day will add More years unto his life, when he shall say, No day shone brighter on Arcadia. [Exit. Mon. We are both come to do our duties to you, I as being sent for, and Mirtillus with me, To celebrate your joys. Within a while, The shepherds and the nymphs will all be here. Thyr. My old companions shall be welcome all, As you are now; I never shall forget Your courtesy nor theirs. Syl. Nor I the nymphs', Once my dear fellows; but you, Mirtillus, Though you did scorn to love, yet could you sing Well, if you listed of it. Cle. Can shepherds then Despise that deity which we adore? Mir. Madam, I reverence it in you, The perfect'st pattern of a constant lover, And in the honour of your nuptials I have a song, which if your grace will hear, 'Twill entertain the time. Syl. Let it be sung.

Hymen, god of marriage-bed, Be thou ever honoured: Thou, whose torch's purer light Death's sad tapers did affright, And instead of funeral fires Kindled lovers' chaste desires: May their love Ever prove True and constant; let not age Know their youthful heat t' assuage.

Maids, prepare the genial bed: Then come, night, and hide that red, Which from her cheeks his heart does burn; Till the envious day return, And the lusty bridegroom say, I have chas'd her fears away, And instead Of virgin-head, Given her a greater good: Perfection and womanhood. Thyr. Thanks, good Mirtillus; this indeed was proper Unto your subject. Mir. Your thrice-happy match Being but now come to my knowledge, made me Contract myself into a straiter room Than the large subject might afford. Cle. The king!

Euar. Although I wonder, yet I do believe thee, My faithful councillor. Eub. Your majesty Has found me always real; but this truth The oracle's accomplishment will prove, That did foretell their match. Euar. Read it, Eubulus, Once more, and then call in my son and daughter. Eub. If e'er thy issue male thou liv'st to see, The child thou think'st is thine, thine shall not be. Euar. Calligone is not my child; proceed. Eub. His life shall be obscure: twice shall thy hate Doom him to death, yet shall he 'scape that fate. Euar. 'Tis true, that twice I did command his death, First thinking him a bastard, then a shepherd, For his offence: the gods are just. Go on. Eub. And thou shalt live to see, that not long after Thy only son shall wed thy only daughter. Euar. This was a riddle ever till this day, Their marriage has made it plain. Eubulus, Call in Archigenes, and call thy daughter, The fair Calligone, that I may pour My blessings on them: and I long to see Those characters thou writ'st about his neck, That I may call him mine. Eub. See where they are! Euar. Archigenes, come nearer, for thou art A stranger yet, although thou be my son. The character is plain, it is the same Eubulus writ to me: ye heavenly powers, Give me a heart that may be large enough T' express my joy for these and thanks to you. Thyr. My royal father—for I am instructed To call you so—if I have done amiss In hasting to this match, I ask your pardon. Syl. And I for daring to aspire so high Without your leave. Euar. Rise both; you have my blessing. But who are these? Thyr. This is the shepherd, sir, Who took me up first, whom till now I call'd Father, and he deserv'd it for his care. Euar. Eubulus, this is he; Montanus, is it not? Eub. He is deliver'd to me for the shepherd, Of whom your majesty may, if you please, Be well-inform'd of all those passages I left untold. Euar. Some other time we'll hear them: Let him be well rewarded. Thyr. Sir, these shepherds Are come to entertain your majesty With their devices, as their custom is; In which sometimes, until my fortune chang'd, I bore a part. Euar. Let them be feasted all, And study something new to celebrate These nuptials, which I will have proclaim'd Throughout my kingdom: and, Eubulus, see That everything be fitted for their honour. Come, let us to the temple, that we may With holy sacrifice appease the gods, Whose great decrees, though we did strive to hinder, Yet are they now fulfill'd. It is in vain T' oppose the Fates, whose laws do all constrain.

To you, most royal pair, whose lives have brought Virtue in fashion, and the world have taught, That chaste innocuous sports become the stage, No less than civil manners do the age, We dedicate this piece, but yet with fears To have displeas'd so chaste, so tender ears; Which if you free us from, we'll call this play No more the Shepherds', but our Holiday.