SCENE changes to a Forest.

APOLLO enters with his bow and arrows, as having newly flain the PYTHON.

APOLLO.

'Tis done the monster Python, flain
By Phœbus' shafts, lies breathless on the plain.
Yet why with conqueft am I thus adorn'd?
Alas! I feel a mortal's pain,

Conquer'd by Love, whom once I scorn'd.
O Daphne! till thy fmiles I can obtain,
No more these marks of triumph let me bear;
But thus a fhepherd's femblance wear,
Till bleft by thee I grow a god again.

[Throws away his bow and arrows, and takes
up a fheep-hook.

See-She appears; how wondrous fair!

Hail, goddess of these verdant groves!

DAPHN E.

What art thou, or from whence ?

APOLLO.

A fwain that loves,

DAPHNE.

Thy unavailing courtship fpare.

Doft thou not daily hear the fhepherds cry

Why ever cruel, Daphne, why?

Go-with the rest despair.

APOL

APOLLO.

No, let the reft despair, while I

Diftinguish'd, triumph in the joy.

Fair blooming creature!

Each tender feature

Speaks thee by nature
For love defign'd.
Then fimile confenting,

Loft time repenting,

Let foft relenting

Now fhew thee kind.

DAPHN E.

Cant thou the mountain tiger bind,

Or ftop the floods, or fix the wind?
Do this then Daphne will perhaps be kind.

APOLLO.

Ev'n tigers Love's soft laws obey;

Art thou more favage far than they?

Look all around thee, and above!

Love lights the fkies, and paints the meads;
Its genial flame

Through Heav'n and Earth and Ocean fpreads;
Thou art thyfelf the happiest child of Love,
Do not thy birth disclaim.

DAPH.

DAPHNE.

Though fair as Phoebus thou should'st feem,

And were thy words foft as his lyre,
They could not move me to defire;
Wake, fhepherd, from thy dream.

Ceafe to footh thy fruitless pain;
Why for frowns wilt thou be fuing?
Cease to languish and complain.
'Tis to feek thy own undoing,
Still to love, and love in vain.

APOLLO.

In her foft cheeks and beauteous eyes,

What new enchanting graces rife!

[Afide.

DUETT O for APOLLO and DAPHNE.

APOL. No more deny me,

O cease to fly me

Your faithful fwain.

DAPH. No longer try me,

For ever fly me,

Defpairing fwain.

APOL. Yet hear me.

DAPH.

Forbear me.

APOL. Let fighs imploring,

And looks adoring,

Still fpeak my pain.

DAPH. Your fighs imploring,

And looks adoring,

But move difdain.

[Exit Daphne. APOL

APOLLO.

She's gone-nor knows from whom the flies.
Miftaken coynefs! false difdain!

Phoebus fhe prais'd, but fcorns the swain-
Then, breaking from this dark disguise,
When Phoebus what he is fhall feem,
My glittering rays and melting lyre,
At last fhall warm thee to defire,

And wake thee, Daphne, from thy dream.

That good advice may once prevail;

Save one-nor all your lovers lofe
Alas! that I, poor I might gain
What you each day refufe !

DAPHNE.

Take all, and eafe me of the pain.

DORIS.

I would-but ah! 'twere now in vain.

When

When I was a maiden of twenty,

And

my charms and my lovers were plenty,

Ah why did I ever fay no?

Now the fwains, though I court them, all fly me,
I figh, but no lover comes nigh me;
Ye virgins, be warn'd by my woe!
Ah! why did I ever fay no?

DAPHNE.

Poor Doris! dry thy weeping eyes ;
Doft thou repent thou once wert wife?

Tender hearts to every paffion

Still their freedom would betray,

But how calm is inclination,

When our reafon bears the fway;

Swains themselves, while they purfue us,
Often teach us to deny.

While we fly, they fondly wooe us;
If we grow too fond, they fly.

DORIS.

Yet might I fee one courting fwain,
Though but to flight him once again !—
But come-I'll amorous thoughts give o'er.

DAPHNE.

'Tis well! to leave them at threefcore. Hafte then, and at th' appointed place,

See if the nymphs expect me for the chace.

[Exit Doris.

[A Sym