Acis and Galatea: An English Pastoral Opera - Act 2


Enter Shepherds .


Wretched Lovers, Fate has past
This sad Decree, no Joy shall last,
Wretched Lovers, quit your Dream,
Behold the Monster , Polypheme.
See what ample Strides he takes,
The Mountain nods, the Forest shakes,
The Waves run frighted to the Shores.
Hark! how the thund'ring Giant roars.



Polyph. I rage, I melt, I burn,
The feeble God has stab'd me to the Heart.
Thou trusty Pine, Prop of my Godlike Steps,
I lay thee by.

Bring me an hundred Reeds of decent growth,
To make a Pipe for my capacious Mouth.
In soft enchanting Accents let me breathe,
Sweet Galaiea 's Beauty, and my Love.


O ruddier than the Cherry,
O sweeter than the Berry,
O Nymph more bright
Than Moonshine Night.
Like Kidlings blith and merry.
Ripe as the melting Cluster,
No Lilly has such Lustre,
Yet hard to tame,
As raging Flame,
And fierce as Storms that bluster.
O Ruddier , &c.



Polyph. Whither, Fairest, art thou running?
Still my warm Embraces shunning.


Gal. The lion calls not to his Prey,
Nor bids the Wolf the Lambkin stay.


Polyph. Thee, Polyphemus , great as Jove ,
Calls to Empire and to Love,
To his Palace in the Rock,
To his Dairy, to his Flock,
To the Grape of purple Hue,
To the Plumb of Glossy Blue,
Wildings which expecting stand,
Proud to be gathered by thy Hand.
Gal. Of Infant limbs to make my Food,
And swill full Draughts of Humane Blood!
Go, Monster, bid some other Guest;
I loath the Host, and loath the Feast.


AIR. Polyph.

Cease to Beauty to be suing,
Ever whining, Love disdaining,
Let the Brave, their Aims pursuing,
Still be conqu'ring, not complaining.
Cease to , &c.


AIR. Dam.

Wou'd you gain the tender creature?
Softly, gently, kindly treat her;
Suff'ring is the Lover's Part:
Beauty by constraint, possessing,
You enjoy but half the Blessing,
Lifeless Charms, without the Heart.
Wou'd you , &c.

Enter ACIS.


Acis. His hideous Love provokes my Rage,
Weak as I am, I must engage;
Inspir'd by thy victorious Charms,
The God of Love will lend his Arms.


Love sounds the Alarm, and Fear is a flying;
When Beauty's the Prize, what Mortal fears dying?
In Defence of my Treasure I'll bleed at each Vein;
Without her, no Pleasure, for Life is a Pain.
Love sounds , &c.
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