Classic Poem

ACT. V. SCEN. I.

A H gentle Laelaps , pretty louing dogge,
Where hast thou left thy maister? where is he,
That great commander ouer thee and me?
Thou wert not wont be farre off from his feete,
And O no more would I, were he so pleas'd;
But would as well as thou goe follow him,
Through brakes and thickets, ouer cliffes and rocks
So long as I had life to follow him,
Would he but looke vpon me with that eye
Of fauour, as h'is vs'd to looke on thee.
Thou canst be clapt and strookt with that faire hand
That thrusts away my heart, and beates it backe
From following him, which yet it euer will;
And though he flye me, yet I must after still:
But here he comes, me thought he was not farre.
Car. What meane you Amarillis in this sort
By taking vp my dogge to marre my sport?
Am. My deare Carinus thou doest much mistake,
I do not marre thy sport, tis thou marrst mine,
And kilst my ioyes with that hard heart of thine.
Thy dogge perhaps by some instinct doth know
How that I am his maisters creature too,
And kindely comes himselfe and fawnes on me
To shew what you in nature ought to doe?
Car. Fie Amarillis , you that know my minde
Should not me thinkes thus euer trouble me.
Am. What, it is troublesome to be belou'd?
How is it then Carinus to be loath'd?
If I had done like Cloris , skornd your sute,
And spurn'd your passions, in disdainefull sort,
I had beene woo'd and sought, and highly priz'd,
But hauing n'other arte to winne thy loue,
Saue by discouering mine, I am despis'd
As if you would not haue the thing you sought,
Vnlesse you knew it were not to be got.
And now because I lie here at thy feete,
The humble booty of thy conquering eyes,
And lay my heart all open in thy sight,
And tell thee I am thine, and tell thee right;
And doe not sute my lookes, nor clothe my words
In other colours, then my thoughts do vveare,
But doe thee right in all; thou skornest me
As if thou didst not loue sincerity;
Neuer did Crystall more apparantly
Present the colour it contain'd within
Then haue these eyes, these teares, this tongue of mine
Bewray'd my heart, and told how much I am thine.
Car. Tis true I know you haue too much bewrayd,
And more then fits the honour of a mayd.
Am. O if that nature hath not arm'd my breast
With that stronge temper of resisting proofe,
But that by treason of my weake complection, I
Am made thus easie to the violent shot
Of passion, and th'affection I should not:
Me thinkes yet you out of your strength and power,
Should not disdaine that weakenes, but should thinke
It rather is your vertue, as indeed
It is, that makes me thus against my kinde,
T'vnlocke my thoughts, and to let out my minde;
When I should rather die and burst with loue,
Then once to let my tongue to say, I loue.
And if your worthy parts be of that power
To vanquish nature, and I must be wonne,
Do not disdaine the worke vvhen you haue done;
For in contemning me you to dispise
That power of yours which makes me to be thus.
Car. Now vvhat adoe is here with idle talke?
And to no purpose; for you know I haue
Ingag'd long since my heart, my loue and all
To Cloris , vvho must haue the same and shall.
Am. Why there is no such oddes twixt her and me;
I am a Nymph, tis knowne, as well as she.
There is no other difference betwixt vs twaine
But that I loue, and she doth thee disdaine.
No other reason can induce thy minde,
But onely that which should diuert thy minde.
I will attend thy flockes better then she,
And dresse thy Bower more sweet, more daintily,
And cheerish thee with Salets, and with Fruites,
And all fresh dainties that the season sutes,
I haue more skill in hearbes, then she, by farre,
I know which nourish, which restoring are:
And I will finde Dictamnus for thy Goates,
And seeke out Clouer for thy little Lambes,
And Tetrisoll to cheerish vp their Dammes;
And this I know, I haue a better voyce
Then she, though she perhaps may haue more arte;
But, which is best, I haue the faithfull'st heart:
Besides Amyntas hath her loue, I know,
And she begins to manifest it now.
Car. Amyntas haue her loue? that were most strange,
When he hath gotten that, you shall haue mine.
Am. O deere Carinus , let me rest vpon
That blessed word of thine, and I haue done.

SCEN. II.

VVell met Carinus , I can tell you newes,
Your riuall, poore Amyntas , hath vndone
And spoil'd himselfe, and lies in that weake case,
As we thinke neuer more to see his face.
Car. Mirtillus , I am sorry t'heare so much:
Although Amyntas be competitor
In th'Empire of her heart, vvherein my life
Hath chiefest claime, I doe not wish his death:
But by vvhat chance, Mirtillus pray thee tell?
Mir. I will Carinus , though I grieue to tell.
As Tytirus, Menalcas , and my selfe
Were placing of our toyles (against anon
That we shall hunt) below, within the streight,
Twixt Erimanthus , and Lycaeus mount,
We might perceeue vnder a ragged clife,
In that most vncouth desart, all alone
Distress'd Amyntas lying on the ground.
With his sad face, turn'd close vnto the rock,
As if he loathed to see more of the world,
Then that poore space, which was twixt him and it:
His right hand stretcht along vpon his side,
His left he makes the pillar to support
His carefull head; his Pipe he had hung vp
Vpon a Beach tree by, vvhere he likewise
Had plac'd his Sheep hooke, and his Knife, wherewith
He had incaru'd an wofull Elegy,
To shew th'occasion of his misery.
His dogge Melampus sitting by his side,
As if he were partaker of his vvoe:
By vvhich we knew t'was he, and to him went;
And after vve had call'd and shooke him vp,
And found him not to answere, nor to stirre,
And yet his eyes abroad, his body warme;
We took him vp, and held him from the ground
But could not make him stand by any meanes;
And sincking downe againe, we searcht to see
If he had any vvound, or blow, or wrinch;
But none could finde: at last by chance we spide
A little horne which he had flung aside,
Whereby we gest he had some poyson tooke.
And thereupon vve sent out presently
To fetch Vrania ; vvhose great skill in hearbes
Is such, as if there any meanes will be, —
As I feare none will be, — her onely arte
Must serue to bring him to himselfe againe.
Car. Indeed Vrania hath bin knowne t'haue done
Most desperate cures, and peraduenture may
Restore him yet; and I doe wish she may
Mir. But hauing there vs'd all the helpe we could,
And all in vaine, and standing by with griefe,
(As we might well, to see so sad a sight:
And such an worthy Shepheard in that plight)
We might perceiue come running downe the hill,
Cloris and Techne , with what speed they could:
But Cloris had got ground, and was before,
And made more hast, as it concernd her more.
And nearer as she came, she faster went,
As if she did desire to haue beene there
Before her feete, too slow for her swift feare.
Aud comming to the place, she suddenly
Stopt, starts, and shrikt, and hauing made such hast
T'haue something done, now could she nothing do:
Perhaps our presence might perplex her too,
As being asham'd that any eye should see
The new appearing of her naked heart,
That neuer yet before was seene till now.
Car. And 'tis ill hap for me it was seene now.
Mir. For we perceiu'd how Loue and Modestie
With seu'rall Ensignes, stroue within her cheekes
Which should be Lord that day, and charged hard
Vpon each other, with their fresh supplies
Of different colours, that still came, and went,
And much disturb'd her; but at length dissolu'd
Into affection, downe she casts her selfe
Vpon his senselesse body, where she saw
The mercy she had brought was come too late:
And to him calles, O deare Amyntas , speake,
Looke on me, sweete Amyntas , it is I
That calles thee, I it is, that holds thee here,
Within those armes thou hast esteem'd so deare.
And though that loue were yet so young in her
As that it knew not how to speake, or what,
And that she neuer had that passion prou'd,
Being first a louer ere she knew she lou'd;
Yet what she could not vtter, she supplide,
With her poore busie hands that rubb'd his face,
Chasd his pale temples, wrung his fingers ends,
Held vp his head, and puld him by the hands,
And neuer left her worke, nor euer ceast.
Ama. Alas, the least of this regard before,
Might haue holpe all then, when 'twas in her power
T'haue sau'd his heart, and to reuiue his minde.
Now for all this, her mercy is vnkinde;
The good that's out of season is not good.
There is no difference now twixt cruelty,
And the compassion that's not vnderstood.
Mir. But yet at length, as if those dainty hands,
Had had a power to haue awakened Death,
We might perceiue him moue his heauy eyes;
Which had stood fixt all the whole time before:
And fastens them directly vpon her.
Which when she saw, it strook her with that force,
As that it pierc'd through all the spirits she had,
Made all the powers and parts of her shrinke vp,
With that convulsion of remorse and griefe,
As out she shrik'd, O deare, O my deare heart;
Then shrikes againe, and then againe cryes out,
For now that looke of his did shake her more,
Then Death or any thing had done before;
That looke did read t'her new conceiuing heart,
All the whole tragicke Lecture of his loue;
And his sad suffrings; all his griefes and feare;
And now in th'end what he had done for her,
And with that powerfull force of mouing too,
As all the world of words could neuer doe.
Ah what a silly messenger is Speech
To be imploi'd in that great Embassie
Of our affections, in respect of th'eye?
Ah 'tis the silent rhetoricke of a looke,
That works the league betwixt the States of hearts;
Not words I see, nor knowledge of the booke,
Nor incantations made by hidden artes;
For now this looke so melts her into teares,
As that she powr'd them down like thunder drops;
Or else did Nature taking pitty now
Of her distresse, imploy them in that store,
To serue as vailes, and to be interposde
Betwixt her griefe and her, t'impeach her sight,
From that full view of sorrow thus disclosde,
And now with this came in Vrania there,
With other vvomen, to imploy their best
To saue his life, if b'any meanes they can.
And so vve came our vvay, being sent for now
About some conference for our hunting sports;
And with vs Techne comes, vvho is supposde,
T'haue beene a speciall cause of much of this.
Car. Alas this sad report doth grieue me much,
And I did neuer thinke, that Cloris had
So dearely lou'd him as I finde she doth;
For by this act of hers I plainly see,
There will be neuer any hope for me.
Ama. There may for me, if now Carinus thou
VVilt stand but to thy vvord, as thou hast said.
Mir. Ah would to God Dorinda had bene there,
T'haue seene but Cloris act this vvofull part;
It may be, it might haue deterr'd her heart
From crueltie, so long as she had liu'd.
Am. And I am glad Carinus hath but heard
So much this day; for he may hap thereby
To haue some feeling of my misery;
But for Dorinda , neuer doubt at all,
She is more yours Mirtillus then you thinke.
Mir. Ah Amarillis , I would that were true.
But loe where come our chiefest heardsmen now,
Of all Arcadia , we shall know more newes.

SCEN. III.

Melibaeus, Ergastus, Montanus, Acrisus with other Arcadians, bringing with them Alcon, Lincus, Colax, Techne, Pistophaenax.

You gentle Shepheards and Inhabitors
Of these remote, and solitary parts
Of montaynous Arcadia , shut vp here
Within these Rockes, these unfrequented Clifts, —
The walles and bulwarkes of our libertie, —
From out the noyse of tumult, and the throng
Of sweating toyle, ratling concurrencie;
And haue continued still the same and one
In all successions from antiquitie;
Whil'st all the states on earth besides haue made
A thousand reuolutions, and haue rowl'd
From change to change, and neuer yet found rest,
Nor euer bettered their estates by change
You, I inuoke this day in generall,
To doe a worke that now concernes vs all:
Lest that we leaue not to posteritie,
Th' Arcadia that we found continued thus
By our fore-fathers care who left it vs.
For none of you I know, whose iudgments graue
Can ought discerne, but sees how much we are
Transformd of late, and changd from what we were;
And vvhat distempers daily doe arise
Amongst our people, neuer felt before;
At which I know you maruell, as indeed
You well may maruel, whence they should proceed;
And so did good Ergastus here, and I,
Vntill we set our selues more vvarily
To search it out; vvhich by good hap vve haue,
And found the authors of this vvickednesse.
Which diuels attyr'd here in the shape of men,
We haue produc'd before you, to the end
You may take speedy order to suppresse
Our growing follies, and their impiousnesse.
Erg. Indeed these odious wretches which you see,
Are they who haue brought in vpon our rest,
These new and vnknowne mischiefes of debate,
Of wanton pride, of scandulous reportes,
Of vile deluding, chaste and honest loues,
Of vndeseru'd suspitious desperate griefes,
And all the sadnesse we haue seene of late.
And first this man, this Lincus here you see,
Montanus you, and you Acrysius know,
With what deceit, and with what cunning arte,
He entertaind your strifes, abusd you both;
By first perswading you that you had right
In your demands, and then the right was yours;
And would haue made as many rights as men
Had meanes, or power, or will to purchase them;
Could he haue once attain'd to his desires.
Mon. We doe confesse our errour, that we were
Too easily perswaded by his craft,
To wrangle for imagin'd titles; which
We here renounce, and quit for euermore.
Acry. And we desire the memory thereof
May die with vs, that it be neuer knowne
Our feeble age hath such example showne.
Erg. And now this other strange impostor here,
This Alcon , who like Lincus hath put on,
The habite too of emptie grauitie,
To catch opinion, and conceit withall,
Seekes how to set vs all at variance here
With nature, as this other with our selues;
And would confound her, working with his arte;
And labours how to make our mindes first sicke,
Before our bodies, and perswade our health
It is not well; that he may haue thereby
Both it and sicknesse euer vnder cure.
And sorraine drugs brings to distemper's here
And make vs like the wanton world abroad.
Mel. But here are two the most pernitious spirits
The world I thinke did euer yet produce;
Colax and Techne ; two such instruments
Of Wantonnesse, of Lust and treachery,
As are of power t'intice and to debaush
The vniuersall state of honesty.
Erg. But Techne , who is that stands there by you?
What, is your company increast of late?
Tec. Truely it is a very honest man,
A friend of mine that comes to see me here.
Erg. He cannot then but be an honest man,
If he be one of your acquaintance sure.
Mel. This man I found with them now since you went,
Maintaining hote dispute with Titerus
About the rites and misteries of Pan .
Erg. H'is like to be of their associats then:
Techne , what is this secret friend of yours?
Tec. For-sooth he is a very holy man.
Erg. A very holy man? what is his name?
Tec. Truely his name Sir is Pistophaenax .
Erg. What, is he maskt, or is that face his owne?
Tec. He is not maskt, tis his complexion sure.
Erg. Techne we cannot credite thy report.
Let one trie whether it be so or not:
O see a most deformed ougly face,
Wherewith if openly he should appeare,
He would deterre all men from comming neere.
And therefore hath that cunning wretch put on
This pleasing visor of apparency,
T'intice and to delude the world withall;
So that you see with what strange inginiers,
The proiect of our ruine is forecast,
How they implanted haue their battery here,
Against all the maine pillors of our state,
Our Rites, our Custome, Nature, Honesty.
T'imbroyle, and to confound vs vtterly,
Reckning vs barbarous; but if thus their skill
Doth ciuilize, let vs be barbarous still.
Mel. But now to shew the horrible effects
Of Colax , and of Technes practises,
(Besides this last exploit they vvrought vpon
Amyntas , vvho, poore youth, lies now full weake:
Vnder Vranias cure, vvhose skill we heare
Hath yet recall'd him to himselfe againe)
We haue sent out abroad into the vvoods,
For Siluia and Palaemon , two chast soules
Whom they haue tortur'd so vvith iealousie
Of each the other, as they made them runne
A part, to languish seuerally alone;
And we haue sent for diuers others too,
Whose hearts haue felt what impious craft can do:
And here they come, and now you shall know all.

SCEN. IV.

Palaemon, Mirtillus, Carinus, Siluia, Dorinda, Amarillis, Daphne, Cloris, Amyntas.

Come good Palaemon , and good Siluia come,
You haue indur'd too much, and too too long.
Sil. Ah vvhy Ergastus doe you set our names
So neere together, when our hearts so farre,
Are distant from each other as they are?
Indeed, whilst vve were one as once vve were,
And as we ought to be vvere faith obseru'd,
Palaemon should not haue beene nam'd without
A Siluia , nor yet Siluia vvithout him;
But now vve may Ergastus , vve are two.
Pal. Siluia , therein the greater wrong you doe.
Sil. Palaemon , nay the greater vvrong you doe.
Erg. Alas we know well where the wrong doth lie.
Sil. I know you doe, and all the world may know.
Pal. Siluia , you see your fault cannot be hid.
Sil. It is no fault of mine Palaemon , that
Your shame doth come to be reuealed here;
****I neuer told it, you your selfe haue not
Conceal'd your worke so closely as you should.
Pal. But there stands one can tell what you haue beene.
Sil. Nay, there he stands can tell what you haue beene;
And sure is now in publicke here produc'd
To testifie your shame, but not set on
By me, I doe protest; who rather would
Haue di'd alone in secret with my griefe
Then had your infamy discouered here,
Wherein my shame must haue so great a share.
Pal. I haue not sought to manifest your shame,
Which Siluia , rather then haue done I would
Haue beene content t'indure the worst of deaths,
I hauing such an interest in the same.
Col. No Siluia , no Palaemon , I stand here
Not t'accuse you, but t'accuse my selfe
Of wrong; you both, God knowes, are cleare;
I haue abus'd your apt credulitie,
With false reports of things that neuer were:
And therefore here craue pardon for the same.
Pal. Why Colax , did not Siluia entertaine
The loue of Thyrsis then as you told me?
Col. Palaemon no, she neuer entertain'd
His loue, nor wrong'd you as I euer knew.
Sil. But Colax you saw how Palaemon did
With Nisa falsifie his vow to me.
Col. Siluia , by heauen and earth I sweare not I,
But onely fain'd it out of subtiltie;
For some vngodly ends I had decreed.
Pal. O let not this be made some cunning baite
To take my griefes with false beliefe, for I
Had rather liue vvith sorrow then deceipt,
And still t'be vndone, then to haue such reliefe.
Sil. Ah let not this deuise be wrought to guilde
My bitternesse, to make me swallow't now
That I might be another time beguilde
With confidence, and not trust vvhat I know.
Pal. Ah Siluia now, how vvere I cleer'd of griefe,
Had I the power to vnbeleeue beliefe.
But ah my heart hath dwelt so long in house
With that first tale, as this vvhich is come new,
Cannot be put in trust with my desire
So soone; besides 'tis too good to be true.
Sil. Could I Palaemon but vnthinke the thought
Of th'ill first heard, and that it vvere not so,
How blest were I? but loe I see how doubt
Comes in farre easier then it can get out.
And in these miseries of iealousie,
Our eare hath greater credit then our eye.
Mel. Stand not confus'd, deare louers, any more,
For this is now the certaine truth you heare,
And this vile vvretch hath done you both this vvrong.
Pal. Ist possible, and is this true you say,
And do I liue, and doe I see the day?
Ah then come Siluia , for I finde this wound
That pierc'd into the center of my heart,
Hath let in loue farre deeper then it vvas.
Sil. If this be so, vvhy then Palaemon know,
I likewise feele the loue that vvas before
Most in my heart, is now become farre more:
And now O pardon me you worthy race
Of men, if I in passion vttred ought
In preiudice of your most noble sexe;
And thinke it vvas m'agrieued errour spake
It knew not vvhat, transported so, not I.
Pal. And pardon me you glorious company,
You starres of vvomen, if m'inraged heate
Haue ought prosan'd your reuerent dignity;
And thou bright Pallas , sou'raigne of all Nimphes,
The royall Mistresse of our Pastorall Muse,
And thou Diana honour of the woods,
To whom I vow my songs, and vow my selfe,
Forgiue me mine offence, and be you pleas'd
T'accept of my repentance now therefore,
And grace me still; and I desire no more.
Sil. And now I would that Cloris knew thus much,
That so she might be vndeceiued too,
Whom I haue made beleeue so ill of men:
But loe see where she comes, and as it seemes
Brings her beliefe already in her hand,
Preuents my act, and is confirm'd before.
Looke Cloris looke, my feares haue idle beene,
Palaemon loues me, there is trust in men.
Clo. And Siluia I must now beleeue so too,
Or else God helpe, I know not what to doe
Pal. Looke here Mirtillus looke, what I told you
Is now prou'd false, and women they are true.
Mil. So I perceiue Palaemon , and it seemes
But vaine conceipt that other wise esteemes.
Mon. Alas here comes my deare restored sonne,
My louely child Amyntas here is come
Acry. And here is Cloris my deare daughter come,
And lookes as if she were affrighted still,
Poore soule, with feare, and with her sudaine griese.
Clo. Loe here Montanus I haue brought you home
Although with much a doe, your sonne againe;
And sorry am with all my heart that I,
Haue beene the cause he hath indur'd so much.
Mon. And I restore him backe again to you
Deare Cloris , and doe vvish you to forget
Your sorrowes past, and pray the Gods you may
From henceforth lead your life with happy ioy.
Acry. Doe Cloris take him, and I wish as much.
Erg. Well then to make our ioyfull festiuals
The more complet, Dorinda , we intreate
You also to accept Mirtillus loue;
Who we are sure hath well deserued yours.
Do . Although this be vpon short warning, yet
For that I haue beene sommoned before
By mine owne heart and his deserts to me,
To yeeld to such a motion, I am now
Content t'accept his loue, and wilbe his.
Mir. Dorinda , then I likewise haue my blisse,
And reckon all the sufferings I haue past,
Worthy of thee to haue this ioy at last.
Mel. And you Carinus , looke on that good Nymph
Whose eye is still on you, as if she thought
Her suffring too, deseru'd some time of ioy,
And now expects her turne, hath brought her lap
For comfort too whil'st Fortune deales good hap;
And therefore let her haue it now poore soule,
For she is worthy to possesse your loue.
Car. I know she is, and she shall haue my loue,
Though Colax had perswaded me before
Neuer t'accept or to beleeue the loue
Of any Nymph, and oft to me hath sworne
How he had tri'd them all, and that none were
As men, beguild by shewes, suppos'd they were;
But now I do perceiue his treachery,
And that they haue both loue and constancy.
Ama. O deare Carinus blest be this good houre,
That I haue liu'd to ouertake at last
That heart of thine which fled from me so fast.
Erg. And Daphne too me thinkes your heauy lookes
Shew how that something is amisse with you.
Dap. Nothing amisse with me, but that of late
I tooke a fall, which somewhat grieues me yet.
Erg. That must aduise you Daphne from henceforth
To looke more warily vnto your feete;
Which if you do, no doubt but all this will be well
Mel. Then thus we see the sadnesse of this day
Is ended with the euening of our ioy:
And now you impious spirits, who thus haue rais'd
The hideous tempests of these miseries,
And thus abus'd our simple innocence;
We charge you all here present t'auoyd,
From out our confines; vnder paine to be
Cast downe and dasht in pieces from these rockes,
And t'haue your odious carkases deuour'd
By beasts, being worse yourselues then beasts to men.
Col. Well then come Techne , for I see we two
Must euen be forc'd to make a marriage too,
And goe to Corinth , or some City neere,
And by our practise get our liuing there:
Which both together ioyn'd, perhaps we may:
And this is now the worst of miseries
Could come vnto me, and yet vvorthily,
For hauing thus abus'd so many Nymphes,
And vvrong'd the honour most vnreuerently
Of vvomen, in that sort as I haue done,
That now I am forst to vndergoe therefore,
The vvorst of Plagues: to marry vvith a W.
Alc. But Lincus , let not this discourage vs,
That this poore people iealous of their rest,
Exile vs thus; for vve no doubt shall finde
Nations enough, that vvill most ready be
To entertaine our skill, and cherish vs.
And worthier people too, of subtler spirits,
Then these vnfashion'd and vncomb'd rude swaines.
Lin. Yea and those Nations are farre sooner drawne
T'all friuolous distractions then are these;
For oft vve see, the grosse doe manage things,
Farre better then the subtile; cunning brings
Confusion sooner then doth ignorance.
Alc. Yea, and I doubt not whil'st there shall be found
Fantasticke puling wenches in the world,
But I shall florish, and liue iollily,
For such as I by vvomen must begin
To gaine a name, and reputation winne:
Which, vvhen we haue attain'd to, you know then
How easily the vvomen draw on men.
Lin. Nor doe I doubt but I shall likewise liue,
And thriue, where euer I shall plant my selfe;
For I haue all those helpes my skill requires,
A wrangling nature, a contesting grace,
A clamorous voyce, and an audacious face.
And I can cite the law t'oppugne the law,
And make the glosse to ouerthrow the text;
I can alledge and vouch authority,
T'imbroyle th'intent, and sense of equity;
Besides, by hauing beene a Notary,
And vs'd to frame litigious instruments
And leaue aduantages for subtilty
And strife to worke on, I can so deuise
That there shall be no writing made so sure
But it shall yeeld occasion to contest
At any time when men shall thinke it best;
Nor be thou checkt vvith this Pistophaenax ,
That at thy first appearing thou art thus
Discou'red here; thou shalt along with vs,
And take thy fortune too, as vvell as we.

Pist. Tush Lincus , this cannot discourage me,
For we that traffique with credulity
And with opinion, still shall cherisht be;
But here your errour was to enter first
And be before me, for you should haue let
Me make the way, that I might haue dislinkt
That chaine of Zeale that holds in amity,
And call'd vp doubt in their establisht rites;
Which would haue made you such an easie way,
As that you might haue brought in what you would,
Vpon their shaken and discattered mindes;
For our profession any thing refutes,
And all's vnsetled whereas faith disputes.
Mel. Now what a muttring keepe you there, away,
Begone I say, and best doe, whilst you may.
And since we haue redeem'd our selues so well
Out of the bonds of mischiefe, let vs all
Exile with them their ill example too;
Which neuer more remaines, as it begun,
But is a wicked sire t' a farre worse sonne,
And stayes not till it makes vs slaues vnto
That vniuersall Tyrant of the earth
Custome, who takes from vs our priuiledge
To be our selues, rendes that great charter too
Of nature, and would likewise cancell man:
And so inchaines our iudgements and discourse
Vnto the present vsances, that we
Must all our senses thereunto refer.
Be as we finde our selues, not as we are,
As if we had no other touch of truth
And reason, then the nations of the times,
And place wherein we liue; and being our selues
Corrupted, and abastardized thus,
Thinke all lookes ill, that doth not looke like vs.
And therefore let vs recollect our selues
Dispers'd into these strange confused ills,
And be againe Arcadians , as we were
In manners, and in habits as we were;
And so solemnize this our happie day
Of restauration, with other seasts of ioy.