CHAMBER THEATRE SCRIPT: The Nymph and Her Ardent Lovers

In a chamber theatre, characters usually have dual roles; that is to be the actor and a narrator at the same time. But in this script, the characters are only made to say their lines to focus on the poetry duet of the poems originally written by Christopher Marlowe (The Passionate Shepherd to His Love) and Sir Walter Raleigh (The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd).

This script only modifies the characters' dialogues but they must freeze and move only when it is their time to project their character.

DISCLAIMER: I do not intend to infringe the copyright of Marlowe's and Raleigh's. This script plainly makes use of both poems to show deeply the interactions of the shepherd and the nymph. 

Here's the script using Christopher Marlowe's THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE and Sir Walter Raleigh's THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD.

The Nymph and Her Ardent Lovers

CHARACTERS: 1 narrator, 4 men, 2 women,  

(All characters in position)

Narrator: “Come live with me and be my love” were the words that linger in her head all these years. She is the nymph that shepherds came to flock to. She is the nymph the shepherds hoped to be theirs. She is Amalthea

Musician: I can only play the tune that shall suit your storytelling. So please go on.

Narrator:  I can only tell you what I know, but I can never show you what they felt for each other. And so it goes…

Alexander: Come live with me and be my love, 

 And we will all the pleasures prove,

That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

Flavian: And we will sit upon the Rocks,

Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow Rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

Evan: And I will make thee beds of Roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

Amalthea: (Strides a few steps forward) 

If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every Shepherd’s tongue,

These pretty pleasures might me move,

To live with thee, and be thy love.

(Walks toward Flavian.)

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,

When Rivers rage and Rocks grow cold,

And Philomel becometh dumb,

The rest complains of cares to come.

(Looks at Evan, examines his face, touches his cheek then looks away)

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields,

To wayward winter reckoning yields,

A honey tongue, a heart of gall,

Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Evan: A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;

Fair lined slippers for the cold,

With buckles of the purest gold;

Amalthea: (Smiles at the gown but…)

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of Roses,

Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies

Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten:

In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Flavian: (Pushes Evan aside)

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,

With Coral clasps and Amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me, and be my love.

Amalthea: (Moves away from Flavian)

Thy belt of straw and Ivy buds,

The Coral clasps and amber studs,

All these in me no means can move

To come to thee and be thy love.

Alexander: (Stands slightly behind Amalthea; strides obliquely in front of her; takes her hand)

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May-morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me, and be my love.

Amalthea: (Looks at Alexander passionately; walks around him; looks into his eyes then moves away)

But could youth last, and love still breed,

Had joys no date, nor age no need,

Then these delights my mind might move

To live with thee, and be thy love.

Narrator: Now, Now, don’t be silly. (Everyone looks to the narrator's direction then freezes again.)

The goddess Aphrodite is not half so happy and so she might pick the perfect match for you.

Aphrodite: Oh dear… (Walks toward Alexander pulled him toward Amalthea)... Here’s your man.

Amalthea: (Smiles and looks so in love with Alexander then the smile fades; she looks at Aphrodite) 

… but dear goddess…

Aphrodite: Shush dearie… do not question the gift I hand to you. ‘Tis always  better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I got that from a mortal man’s tongue - a man named Tennyson.

Amalthea & Alexander:  (Facing each other with eyes fixed unto one another.)

Tennyson is wise indeed!