Amyntas, A Tale of the Woods/Act IV
ACT FOURTH.
SCENE I.
DAPHNE, SYLVIA, AND CHORUS.
DAPHNE.May the wind bear away with the bad newsThat was so spread of thee, all, all thy ills,Both present and to come. Thou art aliveAnd well, thank Heaven; and I had thought thee dead;Fully believed it; with such circumstanceNerina had described thy misadventure.Ah, would she had been mute, or others deaf!
SYLVIA. Doubtless it was great chance; and she had reasonTo think me dead.
DAPHNE.But not to tell us so.Now tell us all thyself of thy escape.
SYLVIA.Following a wolf, I found myself immersed In such a depth of trees, I lost the track. While I was seeking how I should return, I saw him again; I knew him by an arrow Which I had fixed upon him by the ear. He was with many others, occupied With some dead animal, I know not what, Which had been freshly slain. The wounded beast Knew me, I think; for with his bloody mouth He issued forth upon me. I expected him, And shook my lance. Thou knowest I have skillAt games like those, and seldom strike in vain.This time however, though I seemed to mark My distance well, I launched the steel for nothing. Whether 'twas fortune or my fault, I know not, But in the enemy's stead, it pierced a tree. More greedy then came he; and I who found him So close to me, and thought my weapon useless,Having no other arms, took swift to flight. I fled: he followed. Hear now the result.A net which held my hair, got partly loose,And fluttering to the wind, was caught by a bough. I felt a something pull me, and retard, And frightened for my life, would have redoubled The swiftness of my running; but the bough Resisted in its turn, and held me fast.At last I tore away, leaving the veilAnd some of my hair with it; and such wings Fear lent my feet, that he o'ertook me not, And forth I issued safe. Returning home, I met with thee, looking all agitation; And was not less astonished at the sight Than thou at mine.
DAPHNE.Thou art alive indeed.Alas, that all are not so!
SYLVIA.What? Dost grieve?
DAPHNE.No: I am pleased to see thee safe: I grieve Because another's dead.
SYLVIA. Dead? Who?
DAPHNE.Amyntas.
SYLVIA.Amyntas? How?
DAPHNE.I cannot tell thee how;Nor yet indeed whether he lives, or not, But I, myself, firmly believe him dead.
SYLVIA.What do I hear? But what dost thou suppose The reason of his death?
DAPHNE.Thine own.
SYLVIA.My death?I do not understand thee.
DAPHNE.The report thenOf thy sad end he heard and he believed; And it has certainly, by this time, driven himTo some most desperate end on his own part.
SYLVIA.Nay, thy suspicion will turn out as groundless, As it has done just now. Every one takes All possible care of his own life, believe me.
DAPHNE.Oh Sylvia, Sylvia, thou hast no conception Of what love's fierceness in a heart can do; A heart, at least, of flesh and blood, not stone As thine is. If thou hadst but known it half,Thou would'st have loved the being who loved thee More than the very apples of his eyes, More than the breath he lived by. I believe it, For I have seen it. When thou didst betake theeTo flight from him, (oh, fiercer creature thouThan tygers) when thou shouldst have been Embracing him for love and gratitude, I saw him turn his lance upon himself.It pierced his clothes and skin, and with his blood Was coloured; nor did he, for all that, slacken,But would have thrust it desperately in And pierced the heart which had been treated worseAnd wounded more by thee, had I not seized His arm and hindered him. Alas! Alas!That shallow wound perhaps was but the exercise Of his determined and despairing constancy, And did but shew the way for the fierce steel To run more freely in.
SYLVIA.What dost thou tell me?
DAPHNE.Afterwards, when he heard that bitter news,I saw him swoon with agony; and on coming To life again, he flung away in fury, To kill himself; and doubtless, it is done.
SYLVIA.Ah me! And thou not follow him! Let us go; Oh, let us find him! If he would have diedTo follow me, he must live now to save me.
DAPHNE.I followed him with all the speed I had; But in his swiftness he soon disappeared;And I went seeking him through all his haunts, In vain. Where wouldst thou go, having no trace?
SYLVIA.But he will die, unless we find him; dieAlas! by his own hand.
DAPHNE. Cruel! and wouldst thouSnatch from him then the glory of that deed,To finish it thyself? Wouldst thou dispatch him? And does it seem an injury done to thee, That he should die by any hand but thine? Now, be appeased; for howsoe'er he dies, He dies for thee: the blow is thine at last.
SYLVIA.Alas! thou piercest me to my heart's core. The grief he gives me now, doubles my bitterness In thinking upon all that cruelty Which I called honesty: and I called it right, But 'twas indeed too hard and rigorous. I see it now, and suffer for it.
DAPHNE.What!What do I hear? Dost thou take pity,—thou? Thou feel at heart one touch of tenderness!And see-what weep! Thou weeping! thou the proud one! Oh wonder! What then are these tears of thine?Real! And tears of love!
SYLVIA.Not love, but pity.
DAPHNE.Pity as surely is love's harbinger, As lightning is the thunder's.
CHORUS.Thus it is,When love would steal into a virgin heart, Where sour-faced honesty would have barred him out, He takes the habit and the countenanceOf his true servant and sweet usher, Pity,And so beguiles the simple mistress there, And gets within.
DAPHNE.Nay, what are all these tears,That flow away so fast? Sylvia, thou'rt silent. Thou lovest? 'Tis so. Lovest; and in vain.Oh mighty power of Love! just chastisement Dost thou send down on this thy unbeliever. Wretched Amyntas! like the bee art thou Who pierces as he dies, and leaves his life Within another's wound. Thy death at last Has smitten the hard heart, which thou couldst neverTouch when alive. If thou art now a shade,(As I believe) wandering about thy nakedAnd poor unburied limbs, behold her tears, Behold them and rejoice; loving in life, Beloved in death. If 'twas thy destinyTo be beloved then only, and this cruel one Would sell her pity at no meaner price, 'Tis paid; and thou hast bought her love with dying.
CHORUS.Dear price to give; useless and shameless one To take!
SYLVIA.Oh! that I were but able with my love To purchase back his life, or with my life Itself; if he indeed is dead.
DAPHNE. Oh wiseToo late! Oh pity, come at last in vain!
SCENE II.
MESSENGERS, CHORUS, SYLVIA, ANDDAPHNE.
MESSENGER.I am so overcome with pity and horror, That wheresoe'er I turn, I cannot seeOr hear a thing that does not start and shake me.
CHORUS. Who is heThat brings such trouble in his looks and voice?
MESSENGER.I bring terrible news. Amyntas Is dead.
SYLVIA.Alas! what says he?
MESSENGER.The noblest shepherds of the woods is dead, He that was such a gentle spirit, so graceful, And so beloved by all the nymphs and muses; He in his prime is dead; and what a death!
CHORUS.Tell us, I pray thee, all; that we may weep His loss with thee,—his loss, and our own loss.
SYLVIAAh me! why shake I thus, and stand aloof! I dare not hear! I dare not hear; and must.Oh my hard heart, my hard and impious heart, Why dost thou shrink! Come, meet the terrible dartsWhich this man carries in his tongue;And shew them now thy fierceness.—Shepherd, I come for part of that sad pain Thou promisest to us assembled here; It fits me more than thou perhaps mayst think; And I shall take it from thee as a thing Most due to me. Now keep thou nothing back.
MESSENGER.Nymph, I can well believe thee; for that hapless oneFinished his life in calling on thy name.
DAPHNE.Now opens this dread history.
MESSENGER.I was standing In middle of a hill, where I had spread Some nets of mine; when close to me I sawAmyntas pass me; looking, not as usual,But strangely altered and disturbed. I rose, And making speed came up with him. He stopped, And said, "Ergastus, there is a great pleasure Which thou mayst do me: 'tis to come with meAnd witness something I am going to do: But I must have thee first swear solemnly That thou wilt stand aloof, and by no meansObstruct me in my work." I, as he wished,(For who could have foreseen so wild an accident?) Made fearful adjurations, and invoked Pallas, Priapus, and Pomona, and Pan,And midnight Hecate. Then did he resume His way, and took me to the edge of the hill,From which in dizzy juttings and rude crags, Without a path, for never foot could make one,There drops into the valley a precipice. We stopped,—I looking down below, and feelingSuch headlong fear in me, that suddenly I drew me back,—he seeming that small space To smile and be serene of countenance;A look, which doubled my security. He then addressed me thus; "See that thou tellThe nymphs and shepherds what thou shalt behold." Then looking up, "If I had thus," said he, "At my command the ravening and the teethOf greedy wolves, as I have now the crags, My death should be like her's who was my life. My wretched limbs should all be torn and scattered,As they did tear, alas! that delicate body: But since they cannot, since the heavens deny Even this welcome death to my desire, I must betake me from the worldAnother way, which if not what it should be, Will join my fate to her's, at least more soon. Sylvia, I follow thee; I comeTo bear thee company, if thou wilt not scorn it: And I should die content,Could I at heart be certain that my coming Would trouble thee no longer as 'twas wont,And that thy scorn was ended with my life. Sylvia, I follow thee! I come!" So saying, Down from the height he wentSheer overhead; and I remained, all ice.
DAPHNE.Wretched Amyntas!
SYLVIA.Oh my heart!
CHORUS.But whyDid'st thou not stop him? did thy oath restrain thee?
MESSENGER.Oh no:—as soon as I discerned his madAnd impious project, I disdained all oaths, Vain at such times as these, and ran to hold him;When, as his luckless destiny would have it, I caught by the scarf of silk, which girt him round, And which, unable to resist the weight And force of his wild body, snapped in my hand.
CHORUS.And what became of the unhappy corse?
MESSENGER.I know not. I was struck so full of horror, That I had not the heart to look again,For fear of seeing him all dashed in pieces.
SYLVIA.Now I am stone indeed, Since this news kills me not. Ah! if the fancied deathOf her who scorned him so,Bereft him of his life, Just reason is it nowThat this most certain deathOf him who loved me so,Should take my life from me. And if it cannot take meWith sorrow or with steel, This scarf, this scarf of his, Which not without a cause Did follow not the ruinOf it's lamented lord, Shall wreak it's destined vengeanceOn my most impious cruelty For his most bitter end.Unhappy scarf which girdled, That kind, departed heart, Be patient for a little Within this hateful bosom, Whence thou shalt soon re-issueTo be my pain and punisher. I should, I should have been Amyntas's companion In life; but since I would not,'Tis thou shalt join me with him Among the shades infernal.
CHORUS.Unhappy me, take comfort.'Tis fortune's doing this, and not thy fault.
SYLVIA. Oh shepherds, do ye weep? And are your tears for me? I do deserve no pity, For I was used to none. If ye lament the lossOf that most perfect heart,Then is your grief too small For such a height of sorrow. And thou, O Daphne, lock Thy tears up in thy heart, love, If they are spent for me. And yet for pity too, Not of myself, but one That did deserve it all. I pray thee let us go, oh! let us go,And gather up his limbs and bury them. 'Tis this alone restrains meFrom dying instant death, This office will I pay him, The only one I can For all the love he bore me.And though this impious hand Will stain the sweet religion of the work,Yet any work it did Would still be dear to himWho loved me past all doubt, And shewed it with his dying.
DAPHNE.I will assist thee in the work; but do notSpeak thus of dying afterwards.
SYLVIA.'Twas for myself till now I lived, and for my fierceness. What now remains of life, I wish to live for him;And oh! if not for him, At least for his unhappy,And cold, and mangled corse. So long then, and no more, Shall I remain on earth, But finish at one momentHis obsequies, and my own life. Now, Shepherd, Which is the path that leads into the valley Where that hill terminates.
MESSENGER.The one before thee.The place itself is but a little way.
DAPHNE.I will conduct and guide thee: I know it well.
SYLVIA.Shepherds; farewell! Farewell, ye plains; Farewell, Ye rivers, and ye woods!
MESSENGER.She speaks as though She took a last departure.
CHORUS. That which Death loosens, thou, O Love, dost bind,Friend thou of peace, as he is friend of war,Over his triumphs act thou triumpher; And leading forth two lovely souls well joined,Openest a face of heaven upon mankind. So dost thou fit thee for our earthly star. They wrangle not above. Thou, coming downMak'st mild the human spirit, and dost easeFrom the only inward hatred, all that own Thy reign: dost ease a thousand madnesses:And with thy heavenly touching sendest round Our smooth and quickened sphere with an eternal sound.