Volume Iii Part 94 (1/2)
_Enter_ Pisaro _alone_.
_Pis_. Ha! who's that? a Lover, on my life, This amorous malady reigns every where; Nor can my Sister be an ignorant Of what I saw this night in _Galatea_: I'll question her--Sister, _Aminta_, Sister.
[_Calls as at her Lodgings_.
_Enter_ Lysette.
_Lys_. Who calls my Lady?
_Pis_. Where's my Sister?
_Lys_. I cry your Lords.h.i.+p's mercy; My Lady lies not in her Lodgings to night; The Princess sent for her, Her Highness is not well.
[_She goes in_.
_Pis_. I do believe it, good night, _Lysette_.
_Enter a_ Page.
--Who's there?
_Page_. Your Lords.h.i.+p's Page.
_Pis_. Where hast thou been? I wanted thee but now.
_Page_. I fell asleep i'th' Lobby, Sir, and had not waken'd Yet, but for the Musick which plays at the Lodgings Of my Lady _Erminia_.
_Pis_. Curse on them; will they not allow him nights to himself; 'tis hard.
This night I'm wiser grown by observation, My Love and Friends.h.i.+p taught me jealousy, Which like a cunning Spy brought in intelligence From every eye less wary than its own; They told me that the charming _Galatea_, In whom all power remains, Is yet too feeble to encounter Love; I find she has receiv'd the wanton G.o.d, Maugre my fond opinion of her Soul.
And 'tis my Friend too that's become my Rival.
I saw her lovely Eyes still turn on him, As Flowers to th'Sun: and when he turn'd away Like those she bow'd her charming head again.
--On th'other side the Prince with dying looks Each motion watch'd of fair _Erminia's_ eyes, Which she return'd as greedily again, And if one glance t' _Alcippus_ she directed, He'd stare as if he meant to cut his throat for't.
_Well, Friend, thou hast a sure defence of me, My Love is yet below my Amity_.
[_Ex_.
SCENE VI. _Draws off, discovers_ Philander_ and_ Alcander _with Musick at the Chamber-door of_ Erminia; _to them_ Pisaro, _who listens whilst the Song is sung_.
The Song for the _Page_ to sing at _Erminia's_ Chamber-door.
Amintas _that true-hearted Swain Upon a River's bank was laid, Where to the pitying streams he did complain Of_ Sylvia _that false charming Maid, But she was still regardless of his pain: Oh faithless_ Sylvia! _would he cry, And what he said the Echoes would reply_.
Be kind or else I die, _E_. I die.
Be kind or else I die, _E_. I die.
_A shower of tears his eyes let fall, Which in the River made impress, Then sigh'd, and_ Sylvia _false again would call, A cruel faithless Shepherdess.
Is Love with you become a criminal?
Ah lay aside this needless scorn, Allow your poor Adorer some return_, Consider how I burn, _E_. I burn.
Consider, &c.