Classic Poem

SCENE II.

LYCIDAS. DIONE in a shepherd's habit.

LYCIDAS.

Hah! who comes here? turn hence, be timely wise;
Trust not thy safety to Parthenia 's eyes.
As from the bearing faulcon flies the dove,
So, wing'd with fear, Parthenia flies from love.

DIONE.

If in these vales the fatal beauty stray,
From the cold marble rise; let's haste away.
Why lye you panting, like the smitten deer?
Trust not the dangers which you bid me fear.

LYCIDAS.

Bid the lur'd lark, whom tangling nets surprise,
On soaring pinion rove the spacious skies;
Bid the cag'd linnet range the leafy grove;
Then bid my captive heart get loose from love.
The snares of death are o'er me. Hence; beware;
Lest you should see her, and like me despair.

DIONE.

No. Let her come: and seek this vale's recess,
In all the beauteous negligence of dress;
Though Cupid send a shaft in ev'ry glance,
Though all the Graces in her step advance,
My heart can stand it all. Be firm, my breast;
Th' ensnaring oath, the broken vow detest:
That flame, which other charms' have power to move,
O give it not the sacred name of love!
'Tis perj'ry, fraud, and meditated lies.
Love's seated in the soul, and never dies.
What then avail her charms? my constant heart
Shall gaze secure, and mock a second dart.

LYCIDAS.

But you perhaps a happier fate have found,
And the same hand that gave, now heals the wound;
Or art thou left abandon'd and forlorn,
A wretch, like me, the sport of pride and scorn?

DIONE.

O tell me, shepherd, hath thy faithless maid
False to her vow thy flatter'd hope betray'd?
Did her smooth speech engage thee to believe?
Did she protest and swear, and then deceive?
Such are the pangs I feel!

LYCIDAS.

— — — The haughty fair
Contemns my suff'rings, and disdains to hear.
Let meaner Beauties learn'd in female snares
Entice the swain with half-consenting airs;
Such vulgar arts ne'er aid her conqu'ring eyes,
And yet, where-e'er she turns, a lover sighs.
Vain is the steady constancy you boast;
All other love at sight of her is lost.

DIONE.

True constancy no time no power can move.
He that hath known to change, ne'er knew to love.
Though the dear author of my hapless flame
Pursue another; still my heart's the same.
Am I for ever left? (excuse these tears)
May your kind friendship soften all my cares!

LYCIDAS.

What comfort can a wretch, like me, bestow?
DIONE.

He best can pity who hath felt the woe.

LYCIDAS.

Since diff'rent objects have our souls possest.
No rival fears our friendship shall molest.

DIONE.

Come, let us leave the shade of these brown hills,
And drive our flocks beside the steaming rills.
Should the fair tyrant to these vales return,
How would thy breast with double fury burn!
Go hence, and seek thy peace.