Here let me soothe the melancholy hours!
Close me, ye woods, within your twilight bowers!
Where my calm soul may settled sorrow know,
And no Cleanthes interrupt my woe
With importuning love→

[Melancholy music is heard at a distance.
On yonder plain
Advances slow a melancholy train;
Black cypress boughs their drooping heads adorn.

LAURA.

Alas! Menalcas to his grave is borne.
Behold the victim of Parthenia's pride!

He saw, he sigh'd, he lov'd, was scorn'd, and dy'd.

DIONE.

Where dwells this beauteous tyrant of the plains? Where may I see her?

LAURA.

-Ask the sighing swains. They bost can speak the conquests of her eyes; Whoever sees her, loves; who loves her, dies.

DIONE.

Perhaps untimely fate her flame hath cross'd,
And she, like me, hath her Evander lost.
How my soul pities her!

LAURA.

-If pity move Your generous bosom, pity those who love. There late arriv'd among our sylvan race A stranger shepherd, who with lonely pace Visits those mountain-pines at dawn of day, Where oft Parthenia takes her early way To rouze the chase; mad with his amorous pain, He stops and raves; then sullen walks again. Parthenia's name is borne by passing gales, And talking hills repeat it to the dales. Come, let us from this vale of sorrow go, Nor let the mournful scene prolong thy woe.

Here gently rest the corse-With faultering breath
Thus spake Menalcas on the verge of death:
"Belov'd Palemon, hear a dying friend;
See, where yon hills with craggy brows ascend,
Low in the valley where the mountain grows,
There first I saw her, there began my woes.
When I am cold, may there this clay be laid!
There often strays the dear, the cruel maid;
There, as she walks, perhaps you'll hear her say,
(While a kind gushing tear shall force its way)

How could my stubborn heart relentless prove? Ah, poor Menalcas-all thy fault was love!"

2 SHEPHERD.

When pitying lions o'er a carcase groan,
And hungry tigers bleeding kids bemoan;
When the lean wolf laments the mangled sheep;
Then shall Parthenia o'er Menalcas weep.

1 SHEPHERD.

When famish'd panthers seek their morning food, And monsters roar along the desert wood;

When hissing vipers rustle through the brake, Or in the path-way rears the speckled snake; The wary swain th' approaching peril spies, And through some distant road securely flies. Fly then, ye swains, from beauty's surer wound. Such was the fate our poor Menalcas found!

2 SHEPHERD.

What shepherd does not mourn Menalcas slain!
Kill'd by a barbarous woman's proud disdain!
Whoe'er attempts to bend her scornful mind,
Cries to the deserts, and pursues the wind.
1 SHEPHERD.

With every grace Menalcas was endow'd,
His merits dazzled all the sylvan crowd.
If you would know his pipe's melodious sound,
Ask all the Echoes of these hills around,
For they have learnt his strains; who shall rehearse
The strength, the cadence of his tuneful verse?
Go, read those lofty poplars; there you'll find
Some tender sonnet grow on every rind.

2 SHEPHERD.

Yet what avails his skill? Parthenia flies. Can merit hope success in woman's eyes?

1 SHEPHERD.

Why was Parthenia form'd of softest mould?
Why does her heart such savage nature hold?
O ye kind gods! or all her charms efface,
Or tame her heart-so spare the shepherd race.
2 SHEPHERD.

As fade the flowers which on the grave 1 cast;
So may Parthenia's transient beauty waste!
1 Shepherd.

What woman ever counts the fleeting years,
Or sees the wrinkle which her forehead wears?
Thinking her features never shall decay,
This swain she scorns, from that she turns away.
But know, as when the rose her bud unfolds,
Awhile each breast the short-liv'd fragrance holds;
When the dry stalk lets drop her shrivel'd pride,
The lovely ruin's ever thrown aside.

So shall Parthenia be.

2 SHEPHERD. -See, she appears,

To boast her spoils, and triumph in our tears.

SCENE III.

Parthenia appears from the mountain.

PARTHENIA, SHEPHERDS.

1 SHEPHERD.

Why this way dost thou turn thy baneful eyes,
Pernicious basilisk' Lo! there he lies:
There lies the youth thy cursed beauty slew;
See, at thy presence, how he bleeds anew!
Look down, enjoy thy murder.

PARTHENIA.

-Spare my fame;

I come to clear a virgin's injur’d name.
If I'm a basilisk, the danger fly,
Shun the swift glances of my venom'd eye:
If I'm a murderer, why approach ye near,
And to the dagger lay your bosom bare?
1 SHEPHERD.

Love is not in our power.

PARTHENIA.

Why will intruding man my peace destroy?
Let me content and solitude enjoy ;
Free was I born; my freedom to maintain,
Early I sought the unambitious plain.
Most women's weak resolves, like reeds, will ply,
Shake with each breath, and bend with every sigh;
Mine, like an oak, whose firm roots deep descend,
Nor breath of love can shake, nor sigh can bend.
If ye unhappy Lycidas would save;
Go seek him, lead him to Menalcas' grave;
Forbid his eyes with flowing grief to rain,
Like him Menalcas wept, but wept in vain :
Bid him his heart-consuming groans give o'er:
Tell him, I heard such piercing groans before,
And heard unmov'd. O Lycidas, be wise,
Prevent thy fate.-Lo! there Menalcas lies.
1 SHEPHERD.

Now all the melancholy rites are paid,
And o'er his grave the weeping marble laid;
Let's seek our charge; the flocks, dispersing wide,
Whiten with moving fleece the mountain's side.
Trust not, ye swains, the lightning of her eye,
Lest ye, like him, should love, despair, and die.
[Exeunt shepherds, &c. Parthenia remains in a me-
lancholy posture, looking on the grave of Menalcas.

-Calm thy sobbing breast. Say, what new sorrow has thy heart opprest?

DIONE.

Didst thou not hear his sighs and suppliant tone!
Didst thou not hear the pitying mountain groan?
Didst thou not see him bend his suppliant knee?
Thus in my happy days he knelt to me,
And pour'd forth all his soul! See how he strains,
And lessens to the sight o'er yonder plains,
To keep the fair in view! Run, virgin, run,
Hear not his vows; I heard, and was undone !

LAURA.

Let not imaginary terrours fright.
Some dark delusion swims before thy sight.
I saw Parthenia from the mountain's brow,
And Lycidas with prostrate duty bow;
Swift, as the falcon's wing, I saw her fly,
And heard the cavern to his groans reply.
Why stream thy tears for sorrows not thy own?

DIONE.

Oh! where are honour, faith, and justice, flown? Perjur'd Evander !

LAURA.

Death has laid him low. Touch not the mournful string that wakes thy woe.

DIONE.

That amorous swain, whom Lycidas you name,
(Whose faithless bosom feels another flame)
Is my once kind Evander-yes-'twas he.
He lives but lives, alas! no more for me.

LAURA.

Let not thy frantic words confess despair.

DIONE.

What, know I not his voice, his mien, his air?
Yes, I that treacherous voice with joy believ'd,
That voice, that mien, that air, my soul deceiv'd.
If my dear shepherd love the lawns, and glades,
With him I'll range the lawns, and seek the shades,
With him through solitary deserts rove.
But could he leave me for another love?
O base ingratitude!

LAURA.

-Suspend thy grief, And let my friendly counsel bring relief

What pious care my ghastful lid shall close?
What decent hand my frozen limbs compose?
O happy shepherd, free from anxious pains,
Who now art wandering in the sighing plains
Of blest Elysium; where in myrtle groves
Enamour'd ghosts bemoan their former loves.
Open, thou silent grave; for lo! I come
To meet Menalcas in the fragrant gloom;
There shall my bosom barn with friendship's flame,
The same our passion, and our fate the same;
There, like two nightingales on neighbouring boughs,
Alternate strains shall mourn our frustrate vows.
But if cold Death should close Parthenia's eye,
And should her beauteous form come gliding by;
Friendship would soon in jealous fear be lost,
And kindling hate pursue thy rival ghost.

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 falcon flies the dove,
So, wing'd with fear, Parthenia dies from love.

DIONE.

If in these vales the fatal beauty stray,
From the cold marble rise; let's haste away.
Why lie 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.

No.

DIONE.

Let her come; and seek this vale's recess, In all the beauteous negligence of dress; Though Cupid send a shaft in every 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 perjury, fraud, and meditated lics. 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 sufferings, and disdains to hear. Let meaner beauties, learn'd in female snares, Entice the swain with half-consenting airs;

PARTHENIA, LYCIDAS, DIONE, laura,
PARTHENIA.

This melancholy scene demands a groan.
Hah! what inscription marks the weeping stone?
"O power of beauty! here Menalcas lies.
Gaze not, ye shepherds, on Parthenia's eyes !"
Why did Heaven form me with such polish'd care?
Why cast my features in a mould so fair?
If blooming beauty was a blessing meant,
Why are my sighing hours deny'd content?
The downy peach, that glows with sunny dyes,
Feeds the black snail, and lures voracious flies;
The juicy pear invites the feather'd kind,
And pecking finches scoop the golden rind ;
But beauty suffers more pernicious wrongs,
Blasted by envy, and censorious tongues.
How happy lives the nymph, whose comely face
And pleasing glances boast sufficient grace
To wound the swain she loves! No jealous fears
Shall vex her nuptial state with nightly tears;
Nor amorous youths, to push their foul pretence,
Infest her days with dull impertinence.

But why talk 1 of Love? My guarded heart
Disowns his power, and turns aside the dart.
Hark! from his hollow tomb Menalcas cries,
"Gaze not, ye shepherds, on Parthenia's eyes."
Come, Lycidas, the mournful lay peruse,
Lest thou, like him, Parthenia's eyes accuse.
[She stands in a melancholy posture, looking on the

Why shines thy love so far above the rest?
Nature, 'tis true, in every outward grace,
Her uicest hand employ'd; her lovely face
With beautcous feature stampt; with rosy dyes
Warm'd her fair cheek, with lightning arm'd her
But, if thou search the secrets of her mind, [eyes;
Where shall thy cheated soul a virtue find?
Sure Hell with cruelty her breast supply'd:
How did she glory when Menalcas dy'd!
Pride in her bosom reigns; she's false, she's vain;
She first entices, then insults the swain.
Shall female cunning lead thy heart astray?
Shepherd, be free; and scorn for scorn repay.

LYCIDAS.

How woman talks of woman!

DIONE.

-Hence depart; Let a long absence cure thy love-sick heart. To some far grove retire, her sight disclaim, Nor with her charms awake the dying flame. Let not an hour thy happy flight suspend; But go not, Lycidas, without thy friend, Together let us seek the cheerful plains, And lead the dance among the sportive swains, Devoid of care.

LAURA.

-Or else the groves disdain, Nor with the sylvan walk indulge thy pain. Haste to the town; there (I have oft been told) The courtly nymph her tresses binds with gold, To captivate the youths; the youths appear In fine array; in ringlets waves their hair Rich with ambrosial scents, the fair to move, And all the business of the day is love.