THE SHEPHERD's ARTIFICE, A Dramatic Pastoral.
[Price ONE SHILLING.]
THE Shepherd's Artifice, A DRAMATIC PASTORAL. As it is perform'd at the THEATRE ROYAL in COVENT GARDEN.
The Words written and the Music compos'd by Mr. DIBDIN.
LONDON: Printed for T. BECKET and P. A. DE HONDT, at Tully's-Head, near Surry-Street, in the Strand. MDCCLXV.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
MEN.
ALEXIS,
Mr. MATTOCKS.
STREPHON,
Mr. DIBDIN.
WOMEN.
SYLVIA,
Miss HALLAM.
CAELIA.
Miss POITIER.
SCENE, The COUNTRY.
THE SHEPHERD's ARTIFICE.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A GROVE.
STREPHON, ALEXIS.
WHY, how now, Strephon, you're a pretty swain,
Thus to indulge a foolish love-sick strain.
Throw off your sadness, like your friend, be gay,
And revel in the sweets of blooming May.
Blame not, Alexis, if I seek the grove,
To muse on Caelia, and indulge my love;
While she, inflexible, denies relief,
What's left for me, but solitude and grief?
AIR.
All endeavours fruitless prove
Former pleasures to regain,
Sunk in helpless, hopeless love,
Can the slave escape his chain?
Leave, O leave me to endure,
Probe not wounds that rend my heart;
When the patient's past a cure,
Med'cine but augments his smart.
SCENE II.
ALEXIS, alone.
O silly, silly swain, to pine and sigh,
Pierc'd by a vain coquet's forbidding eye;
She loves, I know, and if my scheme be right,
The mystery shall soon be brought to light.
AIR.
The trifling maid, who idly vain
Contemns a faithful lover's pain,
His torment all her joy;
Who, changeful as an April day,
With captive hearts delights to play,
As infants with a toy:
Deserves, of Cupid's bitter draught,
To taste a drop, and from his shaft
A stroke or two to feel;
Then tremble, Nymph, for, taught by me,
Strephon shall soon give wounds to thee,
No vanity can heal.
SCENE III.
A COTTAGE.
CAELIA, SYLVIA.
You're not the generous Caelia you'd be thought,
If thus you use a heart your beauty caught.
Sylvia, no more, I ne'er will change my mind,
Nor to a sighing love-sick swain be kind;
I triumph proudly in young Strephon's pain,
And treat his abject passion with disdain.
AIR.
My bosom is proof against transports and vows,
The fawning of treacherous man,
Who, by artful grimaces, by cringing and bows,
Ensnares ev'ry woman he can.
His transport is false, and his vows are a cheat,
His oaths and his cringing a lie,
Each practic'd alone their desire to compleat,
And gain what we ought to deny.
II.
Poor Daphne too soon own'd the flame in her breast,
Too easy, too quickly, was won;
Her swain, from that moment, a rover confess'd,
Forsook her, a maiden undone.
And know, if young Strephon had conquer'd my heart,
To my wish were none pleasing as he,
I sooner would die, than this secret impart,
'Till I prov'd he has truly lov'd me.
SCENE IV.
SYLVIA, alone.
What inconsistent things are girls in this,
To plague their swains, they rob themselves of bliss:
I love Alexis, he's a charming youth,
Each loves the other, and dares tell the truth.
AIR.
Ye flowers that bloom in yonder mead,
Where flows the crystal tide,
And nibbling lambkins sportive feed
Along the current's side,
Ye oft have seen, and smil'd to see,
My love to him, his love to me.
II.
Witness, ye flocks, ye herds, ye fawns,
That o'er the pastures stray,
Witness, ye mountains, groves, and lawns,
Each painted child of May:
The greatest bliss I ere can prove
Is to return my shepherd's love.
SCENE V.
A GROVE.
STREPHON, CAELIA.
Turn, O turn, relentless fair,
Pity hapless Strephon's pain,
Raise him from the last despair,
Smile, and bid him live again.
Prythee lay aside your folly;
How can I or take or give
Sprightly mirth, or melancholy?
But if that contents you,—live.
Too well you know your art and pow'r,
Ev'ry way my woes to calm,
The wound will heal from that sweet hour
Wherein you pour a friendly balm.
Truth I pity your condition,
But if your poor heart must bleed
'Till I act your kind physician—
Your case is desperate indeed.
SCENE VI.
STREPHON, ALEXIS.
Strephon, I've found a way to ease your woe,
In Caelia's breast teach jealousy to glow;
Swear that my Sylvia reigns within your breast,
About it—leave to her and me the rest.
What means my friend?
No questions, but away,
I'll teach my Sylvia what part she's to play;
And, trust me, Caelia quickly shall confess
Her love; and grant your long-wish'd happiness.
AIR.
In ev'ry fertile valley,
Where nature spreads the grass,
Her silly conduct rally
To ev'ry lad and lass;
Where weary reapers labour,
With Sylvia gay, be seen,
Or, to the pipe and tabor,
Light tripping o'er the green.
II.
Where cowslips sweetly smiling,
Bedeck the verdant shade,
Appear the hours beguiling,
Or head some gay parade.
Pursue these methods boldly,
Nor sink in hopeless grief;
The fair once treated coldly,
Will quickly grant relief.
SCENE VII.
STREPHON, alone.
O happy thought, this artifice may prove
A full amends, for all my anxious love.
AIR.
Haughty Caelia, still disdaining,
Ne'er shall triumph o'er my heart;
Ne'er will I with mean complaining
Sue for comfort to my smart;
I'll appear the careless rover,
Let her coquettish airs affect,
Like a gay a happy lover,
Treat contempt with cold neglect.
II.
Ne'er, ye fair ones, damp the passion
Where with honour love attends,
Never cross with indignation
Love that fairest truth commends.
Constant minds alike disdaining
Insincerity and fraud,
Are their utmost wish obtaining,
While their hope their hearts applaud.
SCENE VIII.
A VILLAGE.
NYMPHS and SWAINS, SYLVIA forming a Wreath of Flowers.
AIR.
How lavish Nature's liberal hand
With verdure decks the ground,
How pleasing o'er the cultur'd land
In droves the kidlings bound:
Glad plenty smiles on ev'ry plain,
In ev'ry grove delight,
Content's soft joys in ev'ry swain,
With happy love unite.
SCENE IX.
ALEXIS, SYLVIA.
My Sylvia, something for your private ear;
Such a design!—poor Caelia—
Ever dear,
And ever welcome, ev'ry thing from thee
Brings mirth, brings happiness, and joy to me.
DUETTO.
Sweeter glides the passing hour,
Sweeter sings the feather'd throng,
When my shepherd, in the bower,
Joins their sweet melodious song.
Softer coos the plaintive turtle,
Gayer beauties deck the grove,
Greener far appears the myrtle,
When I'm blest with Sylvia's love.
Smiling nature shall her treasure
Cease to spread on blooming mead.
Swains no more repeat their pleasure
In the bow'r, on tuneful reed.
Reapers, cease to use the fickle,
Leafy woods forbear to move,
ALEXIS.
When Alexis wanders fickle,
SYLVIA.
When thy Sylvia wanders fickle.
Or desires a second Love.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Before a Cottage.
CAELIA musing.
SAY, if to Strephon I confess my flame,
Yield to his wish and own a conqu'ror's claim;
Will he not soon forsake such easy charms,
And leave me slighted for another's arms?
He will, he will, therefore to prove his heart
I'll yet resist him, and prolong his smart.
AIR.
Since artful man so oft betrays,
By subtle wiles, and hardy ways,
Our weak unguarded sex;
By oaths, dissembl'd sighs and fears,
To melt our hearts, to charm our ears,
And still our minds perplex:
In revenge I'm determin'd to treat him with scorn,
And shew him a nymph can perplex in her turn.
II.
But Strephon's heart with purest fire,
With kindest love, and fond desire,
Has ever warmly glow'd:
Yet his may be like all the rest,
A treach'rous bait to snare the breast,
And so my fears forbode:
Those fears then shall teach me to treat him with scorn,
And shew him a nymph can insnare in her turn.
SCENE II.
ALEXIS, CAELIA.
Death! Furies! Woman—
What's the matter now?
From henceforth who will trust a female vow.
Nymph, we are both deceiv'd, your Strephon feign'd,
For you no love within his bosom reign'd;
Sylvia in secret still possest his heart,
Their passion's mutual—
Oh! My bursting heart.
What says Alexis?
Nay, by Jove 'tis true,
And here he comes to mock both me and you.
SCENE III.
ALEXIS, STREPHON, CAELIA.
AIR.
O where, my Sylvia, charming maid,
Of me unmindful dost thou rove;
Haste, haste thee quickly to my aid,
And tune my jarring soul to love.
Thy charms can ev'ry doubt controul,
Can anxious cares at once destroy;
If you but smile, my raptur'd soul
No impulse feels, but softest joy:
So Venus smil'd, to charm her love,
And bid his angry fury cease;
The God, with rapture, did approve,
And sigh'd his soul to gentle peace.
O Traitor!
Monster!—But on second thought
I'll hide my rage.
[Aside to Strephon.]
Well said, the gudgeon's caught.
Down, down my heart; Strephon I'm pleas'd to hear
You've got a mistress who'll be less severe;
Cruel I am, but Sylvia, we are sure,
Inflicts no wounds but she'll be glad to cure.
TRIO.
Happy swain, thy cares are over,
Love-sick whims no more perplex;
Thoughtful roams no more the lover,
Seeking means himself to vex.
In my life I ne'er felt greater pleasure,
My pains ev'ry moment are varied:
Grief, rage,—Lord I long beyond measure,
To see you both happily married.
Blest with Sylvia's graceful beauty,
Sweetly life will pass away;
Inclination leading duty,
Love the night and joy the day.
O rare!
Confusion!
Love and Duty.
ALEXIS.
Never shall around you wait.
STREPHON.
Ever will around us wait.
CAELIA.
Ever must around them wait.
'Sdeath!
Distraction!
Graceful Beauty.
ALEXIS.
This we know alas too late.
STREPHON.
Happy, envy'd, blissful state.
CAELIA.
Hapless, hopeless, cruel fate.
SCENE IV.
A GROVE.
CAELIA, alone.
Tell me, gentle God of Love,
Why oppress'd I wand'ring rove;
Why in grief I muse alone,
Suff'ring pains 'till now unknown:
Heal my anguish, ease my heart;
Convert to joy this piercing smart;
Let calm content succeed this pain,
And grant me happiness again.
SCENE V.
CAELIA, SYLVIA.
Caelia, my dear.
Begone, ungrateful maid,
My love you're wrong'd, my friendship you've betray'd;
How have you thus my Strephon's heart abus'd?
Ease and good nature were the arts I us'd:
I smil'd, you frown'd, the swain could I deter,
Sun-shine to low'ring weather all prefer.
AIR.
The God of Love will ever
Heap blessings on the pair,
Where pleasing's the endeavour
Both of the swain and fair.
Believe, me kind good-nature,
Of beauty stands in place,
Gives bloom to ev'ry feature,
To ev'ry action grace:
Then never slight the lover,
Or draw too tight his chain,
Least in the end the rover
Succeeds the dying swain.
SCENE VI.
CAELIA, ALEXIS.
Stay, Caelia stay, a word let me entreat,
Behold a shepherd falling at your feet;
Each disappointed of a wish'd for spouse,
Let's here in spite exchange our mutual vows.
Alexis no, Strephon I truly lov'd,
Nor can my breast by other vows be mov'd.
A fair confession from an honest heart,
Now listen to the tale that I impart:
AIR.
A shepherd long sigh'd for a beautiful fair,
And in rapture discover'd his love;
Not doubting the nymph would dispell his fond care,
And his amorous transport approve:
Tho' she to compassion insensible grown,
No glimpse of delight would impart;
When he sigh'd at her feet she reply'd with a frown,
And rejoic'd at his suff'rings and smart.
II.
He suffer'd long time this impertinent scorn,
Nor thought of upbraiding the fair,
But secretly pin'd in the bow'r forlorn,
Involv'd in the keenest despair;
'Till his friend who observ'd him heart wounded with grief,
Lamenting his fruitless desire,
Resolv'd that the nymph should afford him relief,
And in turn feel the force of love's fire.
III.
Too artful, her passion she never had own'd,
Tho' it triumph'd alone in her breast;
But laugh'd while the shepherd in misery moan'd,
And wander'd a stranger to rest:
Advis'd then his bosom no longer to vex,
But her haughtiness treat with disdain;
He own'd a feign'd courtship, her breast to perplex,
And convert to delight all his pain.
SCENE VII.
Enter STREPHON, SYLVIA, SHEPHERDS and SHEPHERDESSES.
All this is true, my Caelia, come my fair,
Destroy each doubt and banish ev'ry care.
What means the joy that over powers my mind,
Can my dear Strephon, can he yet be kind?
DUETTO.
This soft, this dear concession,
What words can transport find?
'Tis joy beyond expression,
O Caelia why so kind.
Excuse a virgin's blushes,
This tender token take,
While fear my transport hushes
I wou'd, but cannot speak.
This soft this dear concession,
What words can transport find?
'Tis joy beyonnd expression,
STREPH.
O! Caelia why so kind.
CAELIA.
O! Strephon why so kind.
Now, Caelia, I rejoice to call you friend,
Act always thus, your love can know no end.
Thus do you feel what I and Sylvia taste,
A joy, that hardly time itself can waste;
For hearts so firmly knit as here are met,
And minds united age shall ne'er regret.
QUARTETTO.
AIR.
Can we know more real bliss
Than the happy days in view?
No, shepherd, sure an hour like this
Crowns the wishes but of few.
Dearest nymph, as happy we,
Envy none tho' e'er so great.
Pow'r, riches, sure must be
Much beneath our blissful state.
Then quickly to the neighbouring grove,
Blest together let us rove;
The chearful dance, the suited song,
To such a day as this belong.
FINIS.