The Maids Tragedy. Beaumont Francis
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Название: The Maids Tragedy
Автор: Beaumont Francis
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Драматургия
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Quickly, because your head lies well that way.
Evad. I thank thee Dula, would thou could'st instill
Some of thy mirth into Aspatia:
Nothing but sad thoughts in her breast do dwell,
Methinks a mean betwixt you would do well.
Dul. She is in love, hang me if I were so,
But I could run my Country, I love too
To do those things that people in love do.
Asp. It were a timeless smile should prove my cheek,
It were a fitter hour for me to laugh,
When at the Altar the Religious Priest
Were pacifying the offended powers
With sacrifice, than now, this should have been
My night, and all your hands have been imployed
In giving me a spotless offering
To young Amintors bed, as we are now
For you: pardon Evadne, would my worth
Were great as yours, or that the King, or he,
Or both thought so, perhaps he found me worthless,
But till he did so, in these ears of mine,
(These credulous ears) he pour'd the sweetest words
That Art or Love could frame; if he were false,
Pardon it heaven, and if I did want
Vertue, you safely may forgive that too,
For I have left none that I had from you.
Evad. Nay, leave this sad talk Madam.
Asp. Would I could, then should I leave the cause.
Evad. See if you have not spoil'd all Dulas mirth.
Asp. Thou think'st thy heart hard, but if thou beest caught, remember me; thou shalt perceive a fire shot suddenly into thee.
Dul. That's not so good, let'm shoot any thing but fire, I fear'm not.
Asp. Well wench, thou mayst be taken.
Evad. Ladies good night, I'le do the rest my self.
Dul. Nay, let your Lord do some.
Asp. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal Yew.
Evad. That's one of your sad songs Madam.
Asp. Believe me, 'tis a very pretty one.
Evad. How is it Madam?
Asp_. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal yew;
Maidens, Willow branches bear; say I died true:
My Love was false, but I was firm from my hour of birth;
Upon my buried body lay lightly gentle earth_.
Evad. Fie on't Madam, the words are so strange, they are able to make one Dream of Hobgoblins; I could never have the power, Sing that Dula.
Dula_. I could never have the power
To love one above an hour,
But my heart would prompt mine eye
On some other man to flie;_
Venus, fix mine eyes fast,
Or if not, give me all that I shall see at last.
Evad. So, leave me now.
Dula. Nay, we must see you laid.
Asp. Madam good night, may all the marriage joys
That longing Maids imagine in their beds,
Prove so unto you; may no discontent
Grow 'twixt your Love and you; but if there do,
Enquire of me, and I will guide your moan,
Teach you an artificial way to grieve,
To keep your sorrow waking; love your Lord
No worse than I; but if you love so well,
Alas, you may displease him, so did I.
This is the last time you shall look on me:
Ladies farewel; as soon as I am dead,
Come all and watch one night about my Hearse;
Bring each a mournful story and a tear
To offer at it when I go to earth:
With flattering Ivie clasp my Coffin round,
Write on my brow my fortune, let my Bier
Be born by Virgins that shall sing by course
The truth of maids and perjuries of men.
Evad. Alas, I pity thee. [Exit Evadne.
Omnes. Madam, goodnight.
1 Lady. Come, we'l let in the Bridegroom.
Dul. Where's my Lord?
1 Lady. Here take this light.
[Enter Amintor.
Dul. You'l find her in the dark.
1 Lady. Your Lady's scarce a bed yet, you must help her.
Asp. Go and be happy in your Ladies love;
May СКАЧАТЬ