The Maids Tragedy | Page 6

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?
SONG.
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 all the wrongs that you have done to me, Be utterly forgotten in my death. I'le trouble you no more, yet I will take A parting kiss, and will not be denied. You'l come my Lord, and see the Virgins weep When I am laid in earth, though you your self Can know no pity: thus I wind my self Into this willow Garland, and am prouder That I was once your Love (though now refus'd) Than to have had another true to me. So with my prayers I leave you, and must try Some yet unpractis'd way to grieve and die.
Dul. Come Ladies, will you go? _[Exit Aspatia_.
Om. Goodnight my Lord.
Amin. Much happiness unto you all.
_[Exeunt Ladies_.
I did that Lady wrong; methinks I feel Her grief shoot suddenly through all my veins; Mine eyes run; this is strange at such a time. It was the King first mov'd me to't, but he Has not my will in keeping--why do I Perplex my self thus? something whispers me, Go not to bed;