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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:17 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:17 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12222-0.txt b/12222-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8850ed6 --- /dev/null +++ b/12222-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4234 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12222 *** + +THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS + + +The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Vol. 2 of 10) + + + +_Actus Primus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter_ Clorin _a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour._ + +Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbrace +The truest man that ever fed his flocks +By the fat plains of fruitful _Thessaly_, +Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I pay +My early vows, and tribute of mine eyes +To thy still loved ashes; thus I free +My self from all insuing heats and fires +Of love: all sports, delights and jolly games +That Shepherds hold full dear, thus put I off. +Now no more shall these smooth brows be begirt +With youthful Coronals, and lead the Dance; +No more the company of fresh fair Maids +And wanton Shepherds be to me delightful, +Nor the shrill pleasing sound of merry pipes +Under some shady dell, when the cool wind +Plays on the leaves: all be far away, +Since thou art far away; by whose dear side +How often have I sat Crown'd with fresh flowers +For summers Queen, whil'st every Shepherds Boy +Puts on his lusty green, with gaudy hook, +And hanging scrip of finest Cordevan. +But thou art gone, and these are gone with thee, +And all are dead but thy dear memorie; +That shall out-live thee, and shall ever spring +Whilest there are pipes, or jolly Shepherds sing. +And here will I in honour of thy love, +Dwell by thy Grave, forgeting all those joys, +That former times made precious to mine eyes, +Only remembring what my youth did gain +In the dark, hidden vertuous use of Herbs: +That will I practise, and as freely give +All my endeavours, as I gain'd them free. +Of all green wounds I know the remedies +In Men or Cattel, be they stung with Snakes, +Or charm'd with powerful words of wicked Art, +Or be they Love-sick, or through too much heat +Grown wild or Lunatick, their eyes or ears +Thickned with misty filme of dulling Rheum, +These I can Cure, such secret vertue lies +In Herbs applyed by a Virgins hand: +My meat shall be what these wild woods afford, +Berries, and Chesnuts, Plantanes, on whose Cheeks, +The Sun sits smiling, and the lofty fruit +Pull'd from the fair head of the staight grown Pine; +On these I'le feed with free content and rest, +When night shall blind the world, by thy side blest. + +_Enter a_ Satyr. + +_Satyr._ Through yon same bending plain +That flings his arms down to the main, +And through these thick woods have I run, +Whose bottom never kist the Sun +Since the lusty Spring began, +All to please my master _Pan,_ +Have I trotted without rest +To get him Fruit; for at a Feast +He entertains this coming night +His Paramour, the _Syrinx_ bright: +But behold a fairer sight! [_He stands amazed._ +By that Heavenly form of thine, +Brightest fair thou art divine, +Sprung from great immortal race +Of the gods, for in thy face +Shines more awful Majesty, +Than dull weak mortalitie +Dare with misty eyes behold, +And live: therefore on this mold +Lowly do I bend my knee, +In worship of thy Deitie; +Deign it Goddess from my hand, +To receive what e're this land +From her fertil Womb doth send +Of her choice Fruits: and but lend +Belief to that the Satyre tells, +Fairer by the famous wells, +To this present day ne're grew, +Never better nor more true. +Here be Grapes whose lusty bloud +Is the learned Poets good, +Sweeter yet did never crown +The head of _Bacchus_, Nuts more brown +Than the Squirrels Teeth that crack them; +Deign O fairest fair to take them. +For these black ey'd _Driope_ +Hath oftentimes commanded me, +With my clasped knee to clime; +See how well the lusty time +Hath deckt their rising cheeks in red, +Such as on your lips is spred, +Here be Berries for a Queen, +Some be red, some be green, +These are of that luscious meat, +The great God _Pan_ himself doth eat: +All these, and what the woods can yield, +The hanging mountain or the field, +I freely offer, and ere long +Will bring you more, more sweet and strong, +Till when humbly leave I take, +Lest the great _Pan_ do awake, +That sleeping lies in a deep glade, +Under a broad Beeches shade, +I must go, I must run +Swifter than the fiery Sun. [_Exit_. + +_Clo_. And all my fears go with thee. +What greatness or what private hidden power, +Is there in me to draw submission +From this rude man, and beast? sure I am mortal: +The Daughter of a Shepherd, he was mortal: +And she that bore me mortal: prick my hand +And it will bleed: a Feaver shakes me, +And the self same wind that makes the young Lambs shrink, +Makes me a cold: my fear says I am mortal: +Yet I have heard (my Mother told it me) +And now I do believe it, if I keep +My Virgin Flower uncropt, pure, chaste, and fair, +No Goblin, Wood-god, Fairy, Elfe, or Fiend, +Satyr or other power that haunts the Groves, +Shall hurt my body, or by vain illusion +Draw me to wander after idle fires; +Or voyces calling me in dead of night, +To make me follow, and so tole me on +Through mire and standing pools, to find my ruine: +Else why should this rough thing, who never knew +Manners, nor smooth humanity, whose heats +Are rougher than himself, and more mishapen, +Thus mildly kneel to me? sure there is a power +In that great name of Virgin, that binds fast +All rude uncivil bloods, all appetites +That break their confines: then strong Chastity +Be thou my strongest guard, for here I'le dwell +In opposition against Fate and Hell. + +_Enter an old_ Shepherd, _with him four couple of_ Shepherds +_and_ Shepherdesses. + +_Old Shep_. Now we have done this holy Festival +In honour of our great God, and his rites +Perform'd, prepare your selves for chaste +And uncorrupted fires: that as the Priest, +With powerful hand shall sprinkle on [your] Brows +His pure and holy water, ye may be +From all hot flames of lust, and loose thoughts free. +Kneel Shepherds, kneel, here comes the Priest of _Pan_. + +_Enter_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Shepherds, thus I purge away, +Whatsoever this great day, +Or the past hours gave not good, +To corrupt your Maiden blood: +From the high rebellious heat +Of the Grapes, and strength of meat; +From the wanton quick desires, +They do kindle by their fires, +I do wash you with this water, +Be you pure and fair hereafter. +From your Liver and your Veins, +Thus I take away the stains. +All your thoughts be smooth and fair, +Be ye fresh and free as Air. +Never more let lustful heat +Through your purged conduits beat, +Or a plighted troth be broken, +Or a wanton verse be spoken +In a Shepherdesses ear; +Go your wayes, ye are all clear. + [_They rise and sing in praise of_ Pan. + +The SONG. + +_Sing his praises that doth keep + Our Flocks from harm,_ +Pan _the Father of our Sheep, + And arm in arm +Tread we softly in a round, +Whilest the hollow neighbouring ground +Fills the Musick with her sound._ + +Pan, _O great God_ Pan, _to thee + Thus do we sing: +Thou that keep'st us chaste and free + As the young spring, +Ever be thy honour spoke, +From that place the morn is broke, +To that place Day doth unyoke._ + [_Exeunt omnes but_ Perigot _and_ Amoret. + +_Peri_. Stay gentle _Amoret_, thou fair brow'd Maid, +Thy Shepherd prays thee stay, that holds thee dear, +Equal with his souls good. + +_Amo_. Speak; I give +Thee freedom Shepherd, and thy tongue be still +The same it ever was; as free from ill, +As he whose conversation never knew +The Court or City be thou ever true. + +_Peri_. When I fall off from my affection, +Or mingle my clean thoughts with foul desires, +First let our great God cease to keep my flocks, +That being left alone without a guard, +The Wolf, or Winters rage, Summers great heat, +And want of Water, Rots; or what to us +Of ill is yet unknown, full speedily, +And in their general ruine let me feel. + +_Amo_. I pray thee gentle Shepherd wish not so, +I do believe thee: 'tis as hard for me +To think thee false, and harder than for thee +To hold me foul. + +_Peri_. O you are fairer far +Than the chaste blushing morn, or that fair star +That guides the wandring Sea-men through the deep, +Straighter than straightest Pine upon the steep +Head of an aged mountain, and more white +Than the new Milk we strip before day-light +From the full fraighted bags of our fair flocks: +Your hair more beauteous than those hanging locks +Of young _Apollo_. + +_Amo_. Shepherd be not lost, +Y'are sail'd too far already from the Coast +Of our discourse. + +_Peri_. Did you not tell me once +I should not love alone, I should not lose +Those many passions, vows, and holy Oaths, +I've sent to Heaven? did you not give your hand, +Even that fair hand in hostage? Do not then +Give back again those sweets to other men, +You your self vow'd were mine. + +_Amo_. Shepherd, so far as Maidens modesty +May give assurance, I am once more thine, +Once more I give my hand; be ever free +From that great foe to faith, foul jealousie. + +_Peri_. I take it as my best good, and desire +For stronger confirmation of our love, +To meet this happy night in that fair Grove, +Where all true Shepherds have rewarded been +For their long service: say sweet, shall it hold? + +_Amo_. Dear friend, you must not blame me if I make +A doubt of what the silent night may do, +Coupled with this dayes heat to move your bloud: +Maids must be fearful; sure you have not been +Wash'd white enough; for yet I see a stain +Stick in your Liver, go and purge again. + +_Peri_. O do not wrong my honest simple truth, +My self and my affections are as pure +As those chaste flames that burn before the shrine +Of the great _Dian_: only my intent +To draw you thither, was to plight our troths, +With enterchange of mutual chaste embraces, +And ceremonious tying of our selves: +For to that holy wood is consecrate +A vertuous well, about whose flowry banks, +The nimble-footed Fairies dance their rounds, +By the pale moon-shine, dipping oftentimes +Their stolen Children, so to make them free +From dying flesh, and dull mortalitie; +By this fair Fount hath many a Shepherd sworn, +And given away his freedom, many a troth +Been plight, which neither envy, nor old time +Could ever break, with many a chaste kiss given, +In hope of coming happiness; by this +Fresh Fountain many a blushing Maid +Hath crown'd the head of her long loved Shepherd +With gaudy flowers, whilest he happy sung +Layes of his love and dear Captivitie; +There grows all Herbs fit to cool looser flames +Our sensual parts provoke, chiding our bloods, +And quenching by their power those hidden sparks +That else would break out, and provoke our sense +To open fires, so vertuous is that place: +Then gentle Shepherdess, believe and grant, +In troth it fits not with that face to scant +Your faithful Shepherd of those chaste desires +He ever aim'd at, and-- + +_Amo_. Thou hast prevail'd, farewel, this coming night +Shall crown thy chast hopes with long wish'd delight. + +_Peri_. Our great god _Pan_ reward thee for that good +Thou hast given thy poor Shepherd: fairest Bud +Of Maiden Vertues, when I leave to be +The true Admirer of thy Chastitie, +Let me deserve the hot polluted Name +Of the wild Woodman, or affect: some Dame, +Whose often Prostitution hath begot +More foul Diseases, than ever yet the hot +Sun bred through his burnings, whilst the Dog +Pursues the raging Lion, throwing Fog, +And deadly Vapour from his angry Breath, +Filling the lower World with Plague and Death. [_Ex._ Am. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Ama_. Shepherd, may I desire to be believ'd, +What I shall blushing tell? + +_Peri_. Fair Maid, you may. + +_Am_. Then softly thus, I love thee, _Perigot_, +And would be gladder to be lov'd again, +Than the cold Earth is in his frozen arms +To clip the wanton Spring: nay do not start, +Nor wonder that I woo thee, thou that art +The prime of our young Grooms, even the top +Of all our lusty Shepherds! what dull eye +That never was acquainted with desire, +Hath seen thee wrastle, run, or cast the Stone +With nimble strength and fair delivery, +And hath not sparkled fire, and speedily +Sent secret heat to all the neighbouring Veins? +Who ever heard thee sing, that brought again +That freedom back, was lent unto thy Voice; +Then do not blame me (Shepherd) if I be +One to be numbred in this Companie, +Since none that ever saw thee yet, were free. + +_Peri_. Fair Shepherdess, much pity I can lend +To your Complaints: but sure I shall not love: +All that is mine, my self, and my best hopes +Are given already; do not love him then +That cannot love again: on other men +Bestow those heats more free, that may return +You fire for fire, and in one flame equal burn. + +_Ama_. Shall I rewarded be so slenderly +For my affection, most unkind of men! +If I were old, or had agreed with Art +To give another Nature to my Cheeks, +Or were I common Mistress to the love +Of every Swain, or could I with such ease +Call back my Love, as many a Wanton doth; +Thou might'st refuse me, Shepherd; but to thee +I am only fixt and set, let it not be +A Sport, thou gentle Shepherd to abuse +The love of silly Maid. + +_Peri_. Fair Soul, ye use +These words to little end: for know, I may +Better call back that time was Yesterday, +Or stay the coming Night, than bring my Love +Home to my self again, or recreant prove. +I will no longer hold you with delays, +This present night I have appointed been +To meet that chaste Fair (that enjoys my Soul) +In yonder Grove, there to make up our Loves. +Be not deceiv'd no longer, chuse again, +These neighbouring Plains have many a comely Swain, +Fresher, and freer far than I e'r was, +Bestow that love on them, and let me pass. +Farewel, be happy in a better Choice. [_Exit_. + +_Ama_. Cruel, thou hast struck me deader with thy Voice +Than if the angry Heavens with their quick flames +Had shot me through: I must not leave to love, +I cannot, no I must enjoy thee, Boy, +Though the great dangers 'twixt my hopes and that +Be infinite: there is a Shepherd dwells +Down by the Moor, whose life hath ever shown +More sullen Discontent than _Saturns_ Brow, +When he sits frowning on the Births of Men: +One that doth wear himself away in loneness; +And never joys unless it be in breaking +The holy plighted troths of mutual Souls: +One that lusts after [every] several Beauty, +But never yet was known to love or like, +Were the face fairer, or more full of truth, +Than _Phoebe_ in her fulness, or the youth +Of smooth _Lyaeus_; whose nigh starved flocks +Are always scabby, and infect all Sheep +They feed withal; whose Lambs are ever last, +And dye before their waining, and whose Dog +Looks like his Master, lean, and full of scurf, +Not caring for the Pipe or Whistle: this man may +(If he be well wrought) do a deed of wonder, +Forcing me passage to my long desires: +And here he comes, as fitly to my purpose, +As my quick thoughts could wish for. + +_Enter_ Shepherd. + +_Shep_. Fresh Beauty, let me not be thought uncivil, +Thus to be Partner of your loneness: 'twas +My Love (that ever working passion) drew +Me to this place to seek some remedy +For my sick Soul: be not unkind and fair, +For such the mighty Cupid in his doom +Hath sworn to be aveng'd on; then give room +To my consuming Fires, that so I may +Enjoy my long Desires, and so allay +Those flames that else would burn my life away. + +_Ama_. Shepherd, were I but sure thy heart were sound +As thy words seem to be, means might be found +To cure thee of thy long pains; for to me +That heavy youth-consuming Miserie +The love-sick Soul endures, never was pleasing; +I could be well content with the quick easing +Of thee, and thy hot fires, might it procure +Thy faith and farther service to be sure. + +_Shep_. Name but that great work, danger, or what can +Be compass'd by the Wit or Art of Man, +And if I fail in my performance, may +I never more kneel to the rising Day. + +_Ama_. Then thus I try thee, Shepherd, this same night, +That now comes stealing on, a gentle pair +Have promis'd equal Love, and do appoint +To make yon Wood the place where hands and hearts +Are to be ty'd for ever: break their meeting +And their strong Faith, and I am ever thine. + +_Shep_. Tell me their Names, and if I do not move +(By my great power) the Centre of their Love +From his fixt being, let me never more +Warm me by those fair Eyes I thus adore. + +_Ama_. Come, as we go, I'll tell thee what they are, +And give thee fit directions for thy work. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Cloe. + +_Cloe_. How have I wrong'd the times, or men, that thus +After this holy Feast I pass unknown +And unsaluted? 'twas not wont to be +Thus frozen with the younger companie +Of jolly Shepherds; 'twas not then held good, +For lusty Grooms to mix their quicker blood +With that dull humour, most unfit to be +The friend of man, cold and dull Chastitie. +Sure I am held not fair, or am too old, +Or else not free enough, or from my fold +Drive not a flock sufficient great, to gain +The greedy eyes of wealth-alluring Swain: +Yet if I may believe what others say, +My face has soil enough; nor can they lay +Justly too strict a Coyness to my Charge; +My Flocks are many, and the Downs as large +They feed upon: then let it ever be +Their Coldness, not my Virgin Modestie +Makes me complain. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. Was ever Man but I +Thus truly taken with uncertainty? +Where shall that Man be found that loves a mind +Made up in Constancy, and dare not find +His Love rewarded? here let all men know +A Wretch that lives to love his Mistress so. + +_Clo_. Shepherd, I pray thee stay, where hast thou been? +Or whither go'st thou? here be Woods as green +As any, air likewise as fresh and sweet, +As where smooth _Zephyrus_ plays on the fleet +Face of the curled Streams, with Flowers as many +As the young Spring gives, and as choise as any; +Here be all new Delights, cool Streams and Wells, +Arbors o'rgrown with Woodbinds, Caves, and Dells, +Chase where thou wilt, whilst I sit by, and sing, +Or gather Rushes to make many a Ring +For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of Love, +How the pale _Phoebe_ hunting in a Grove, +First saw the Boy _Endymion_, from whose Eyes +She took eternal fire that never dyes; +How she convey'd him softly in a sleep, +His temples bound with poppy to the steep +Head of old _Latmus_, where she stoops each night, +Gilding the Mountain with her Brothers light, +To kiss her sweetest. + +_The_. Far from me are these +Hot flashes, bred from wanton heat and ease; +I have forgot what love and loving meant: +Rhimes, Songs, and merry Rounds, that oft are sent +To the soft Ears of Maids, are strange to me; +Only I live t' admire a Chastitie, +That neither pleasing Age, smooth tongue, or Gold, +Could ever break upon, so pure a Mold +Is that her Mind was cast in; 'tis to her +I only am reserv'd; she is my form I stir +By, breath and move, 'tis she and only she +Can make me happy, or give miserie. + +_Clo_. Good Shepherd, may a Stranger crave to know +To whom this dear observance you do ow? + +_The_. You may, and by her Vertue learn to square +And level out your Life; for to be fair +And nothing vertuous, only fits the Eye +Of gaudy Youth, and swelling Vanitie. +Then know, she's call'd the Virgin of the Grove, +She that hath long since bury'd her chaste Love, +And now lives by his Grave, for whose dear Soul +She hath vow'd her self into the holy Roll +Of strict Virginity; 'tis her I so admire, +Not any looser Blood, or new desire. + +_Clo_. Farewel poor Swain, thou art not for my bend, +I must have quicker Souls, whose works may tend +To some free action: give me him dare love +At first encounter, and as soon dare prove. + + +The SONG. + + _Come Shepherds, come, +Come away without delay +Whilst the gentle time dot[h] stay. + Green Woods are dumb, +And will never tell to any +Those dear Kisses, and those many +Sweet Embraces that are given +Dainty Pleasures that would even +Raise in coldest Age a fire, +And give Virgin Blood desire, + Then if ever, + Now or never, + Come and have it, + Think not I, + Dare deny, + If you crave it._ + +_Enter_ Daphnis. + +Here comes another: better be my speed, +Thou god of Blood: but certain, if I read +Not false, this is that modest Shepherd, he +That only dare salute, but ne'r could be +Brought to kiss any, hold discourse, or sing, +Whisper, or boldly ask that wished thing +We all are born for; one that makes loving Faces, +And could be well content to covet Graces, +Were they not got by boldness; in this thing +My hopes are frozen; and but Fate doth bring +Him hither, I would sooner chuse +A Man made out of Snow, and freer use +An Eunuch to my ends: but since he's here, +Thus I attempt him. Thou of men most dear, +Welcome to her, that only for thy sake, +Hath been content to live: here boldly take +My hand in pledg, this hand, that never yet +Was given away to any: and but sit +Down on this rushy Bank, whilst I go pull +Fresh Blossoms from the Boughs, or quickly cull +The choicest delicates from yonder Mead, +To make thee Chains, or Chaplets, or to spread +Under our fainting Bodies, when delight +Shall lock up all our senses. How the sight +Of those smooth rising Cheeks renew the story +Of young _Adonis_, when in Pride and Glory +He lay infolded 'twixt the beating arms +Of willing _Venus_: methinks stronger Charms +Dwell in those speaking eyes, and on that brow +More sweetness than the Painters can allow +To their best pieces: not _Narcissus_, he +That wept himself away in memorie +Of his own Beauty, nor _Silvanus_ Boy, +Nor the twice ravish'd Maid, for whom old _Troy_ +Fell by the hand of _Pirrhus_, may to thee +Be otherwise compar'd, than some dead Tree +To a young fruitful Olive. + +_Daph_. I can love, +But I am loth to say so, lest I prove +Too soon unhappy. + +_Clo_. Happy thou would'st say, +My dearest _Daphnis_, blush not, if the day +To thee and thy soft heats be enemie, +Then take the coming Night, fair youth 'tis free +To all the World, Shepherd, I'll meet thee then +When darkness hath shut up the eyes of men, +In yonder Grove: speak, shall our Meeting hold? +Indeed you are too bashful, be more bold, +And tell me I. + +_Daph_. I'm content to say so, +And would be glad to meet, might I but pray so +Much from your Fairness, that you would be true. + +_Clo_. Shepherd, thou hast thy Wish. + +_Daph_. Fresh Maid, adieu: +Yet one word more, since you have drawn me on +To come this Night, fear not to meet alone +That man that will not offer to be ill, +Though your bright self would ask it, for his fill +Of this Worlds goodness: do not fear him then, +But keep your 'pointed time; let other men +Set up their Bloods to sale, mine shall be ever +Fair as the Soul it carries, and unchast never. [_Exit_. + +_Clo_. Yet am I poorer than I was before. +Is it not strange, among so many a score +Of lusty Bloods, I should pick out these things +Whose Veins like a dull River far from Springs, +Is still the same, slow, heavy, and unfit +For stream or motion, though the strong winds hit +With their continual power upon his sides? +O happy be your names that have been brides, +And tasted those rare sweets for which I pine: +And far more heavy be thy grief and time, +Thou lazie swain, that maist relieve my needs, +Than his, upon whose liver alwayes feeds +A hungry vultur. + +_Enter_ Alexis. + +_Ale_. Can such beauty be +Safe in his own guard, and not draw the eye +Of him that passeth on, to greedy gaze, +Or covetous desire, whilst in a maze +The better part contemplates, giving rein +And wished freedom to the labouring vein? +Fairest and whitest, may I crave to know +The cause of your retirement, why ye goe +Thus all alone? methinks the downs are sweeter, +And the young company of swains far meeter, +Than those forsaken and untroden places. +Give not your self to loneness, and those graces +Hid from the eyes of men, that were intended +To live amongst us swains. + +_Cloe._ Thou art befriended, +Shepherd, in all my life I have not seen +A man in whom greater contents have been +Than thou thy self art: I could tell thee more, +Were there but any hope left to restore +My freedom lost. O lend me all thy red, +Thou shamefast morning, when from _Tithons_ bed +Thou risest ever maiden. + +_Alex. _If for me, +Thou sweetest of all sweets, these flashes be, +Speak and be satisfied. O guide her tongue, +My better angel; force my name among +Her modest thoughts, that the first word may be-- + +_Cloe._ _Alexis_, when the sun shall kiss the Sea, +Taking his rest by the white _Thetis_ side, +Meet in the holy wood, where I'le abide +Thy coming, Shepherd. + +_Alex._ If I stay behind, +An everlasting dulness, and the wind, +That as he passeth by shuts up the stream +Of _Rhine_ or _Volga_, whilst the suns hot beam +Beats back again, seise me, and let me turn +To coldness more than ice: oh how I burn +And rise in youth and fire! I dare not stay. + +_Cloe._ My name shall be your word. + +_Alex._ Fly, fly thou day. [_Exit._ + +_Cloe._ My grief is great if both these boyes should fail: +He that will use all winds must shift his sail. [_Exit._ + + + + +_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter an old_ Shepherd, _with a bell ringing, and the Priest of Pan +following._ + +_Priest._ O Shepherds all, and maidens fair, +Fold your flocks up, for the Air +'Gins to thicken, and the sun +Already his great course hath run. +See the dew-drops how they kiss +Every little flower that is: +Hanging on their velvet heads, +Like a rope of crystal beads. +See the heavy clouds low falling, +And bright _Hesperus_ down calling +The dead night from under ground, +At whose rising mists unsound, +Damps, and vapours fly apace, +Hovering o're the wanton face +Of these pastures, where they come, +Striking dead both bud and bloom; +Therefore from such danger lock +Every one his loved flock, +And let your Dogs lye loose without, +Lest the Wolf come as a scout +From the mountain, and e're day +Bear a Lamb or kid away, +Or the crafty theevish Fox, +Break upon your simple flocks: +To secure your selves from these, +Be not too secure in ease; +Let one eye his watches keep, +Whilst the t'other eye doth sleep; +So you shall good Shepherds prove, +And for ever hold the love +Of our great god. Sweetest slumbers +And soft silence fall in numbers +On your eye-lids: so farewel, +Thus I end my evenings knel. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Clorin, _the_ Shepherdess, _sorting of herbs, and telling the +natures of them._ + +_Clor._ Now let me know what my best Art hath done, +Helpt by the great power of the vertuous moon +In her full light; O you sons of Earth, +You only brood, unto whose happy birth +Vertue was given, holding more of nature +Than man her first born and most perfect creature, +Let me adore you; you that only can +Help or kill nature, drawing out that span +Of life and breath even to the end of time; +You that these hands did crop, long before prime +Of day; give me your names, and next your hidden power. +This is the _Clote_ bearing a yellow flower, +And this black Horehound, both are very good +For sheep or Shepherd, bitten by a wood- +Dogs venom'd tooth; these Ramuns branches are, +Which stuck in entries, or about the bar +That holds the door fast, kill all inchantments, charms, +Were they _Medeas_ verses that doe harms +To men or cattel; these for frenzy be +A speedy and a soveraign remedie, +The bitter Wormwood, Sage, and Marigold, +Such sympathy with mans good they do hold; +This Tormentil, whose vertue is to part +All deadly killing poyson from the heart; +And here _Narcissus_ roots for swellings be: +Yellow _Lysimacus_, to give sweet rest +To the faint Shepherd, killing where it comes +All busie gnats, and every fly that hums: +For leprosie, Darnel, and Sellondine, +With Calamint, whose vertues do refine +The blood of man, making it free and fair +As the first hour it breath'd, or the best air. +Here other two, but your rebellious use +Is not for me, whose goodness is abuse; +Therefore foul Standergrass, from me and mine +I banish thee, with lustful Turpentine, +You that intice the veins and stir the heat +To civil mutiny, scaling the seat +Our reason moves in, and deluding it +With dreams and wanton fancies, till the fit +Of burning lust be quencht; by appetite, +Robbing the soul of blessedness and light: +And thou light _Varvin_ too, thou must go after, +Provoking easie souls to mirth and laughter; +No more shall I dip thee in water now, +And sprinkle every post, and every bough +With thy well pleasing juyce, to make the grooms +Swell with high mirth, as with joy all the rooms. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. This is the Cabin where the best of all +Her Sex, that ever breath'd, or ever shall +Give heat or happiness to the Shepherds side, +Doth only to her worthy self abide. +Thou blessed star, I thank thee for thy light, +Thou by whose power the darkness of sad night +Is banisht from the Earth, in whose dull place +Thy chaster beams play on the heavy face +Of all the world, making the blue Sea smile, +To see how cunningly thou dost beguile +Thy Brother of his brightness, giving day +Again from _Chaos_, whiter than that way +That leads to _Joves_ high Court, and chaster far +Than chastity it self, yon blessed star +That nightly shines: Thou, all the constancie +That in all women was, or e're shall be, +From whose fair eye-balls flyes that holy fire, +That Poets stile the Mother of desire, +Infusing into every gentle brest +A soul of greater price, and far more blest +Than that quick power, which gives a difference, +'Twixt man and creatures of a lower sense. + +_Clor_. Shepherd, how cam'st thou hither to this place? +No way is troden, all the verdant grass +The spring shot up, stands yet unbruised here +Of any foot, only the dapled Deer +Far from the feared sound of crooked horn +Dwels in this fastness. + +_Th_. Chaster than the morn, +I have not wandred, or by strong illusion +Into this vertuous place have made intrusion: +But hither am I come (believe me fair) +To seek you out, of whose great good the air +Is full, and strongly labours, whilst the sound +Breaks against Heaven, and drives into a stound +The amazed Shepherd, that such vertue can +Be resident in lesser than a man. + +_Clor_. If any art I have, or hidden skill +May cure thee of disease or festred ill, +Whose grief or greenness to anothers eye +May seem impossible of remedy, +I dare yet undertake it. + +_The_. 'Tis no pain +I suffer through disease, no beating vein +Conveyes infection dangerous to the heart, +No part impostum'd to be cur'd by Art, +This body holds; and yet a feller grief +Than ever skilfull hand did give relief +Dwells on my soul, and may be heal'd by you, +Fair beauteous Virgin. + +_Clor_. Then Shepherd, let me sue +To know thy grief; that man yet never knew +The way to health, that durst not shew his sore. + +_Then_. Then fairest, know, I love you. + +_C[l]or_. Swain, no more, +Thou hast abus'd the strictness of this place, +And offred Sacrilegious foul disgrace +To the sweet rest of these interred bones, +For fear of whose ascending, fly at once, +Thou and thy idle passions, that the sight +Of death and speedy vengeance may not fright +Thy very soul with horror. + +_Then_. Let me not +(Thou all perfection) merit such a blot +For my true zealous faith. + +_Clor_. Dar'st thou abide +To see this holy Earth at once divide +And give her body up? for sure it will, +If thou pursu'st with wanton flames to fill +This hallowed place; therefore repent and goe, +Whilst I with praise appease his Ghost below, +That else would tell thee what it were to be +A rival in that vertuous love that he +Imbraces yet. + +_Then_. 'Tis not the white or red +Inhabits in your cheek that thus can wed +My mind to adoration; nor your eye, +Though it be full and fair, your forehead high, +And smooth as _Pelops_ shoulder; not the smile +Lies watching in those dimples to beguile +The easie soul, your hands and fingers long +With veins inamel'd richly, nor your tongue, +Though it spoke sweeter than _Arions_ Harp, +Your hair wove into many a curious warp, +Able in endless errour to infold +The wandring soul, nor the true perfect mould +Of all your body, which as pure doth show +In Maiden whiteness as the Alpsian snow. +All these, were but your constancie away, +Would please me less than a black stormy day +The wretched Seaman toyling through the deep. +But whilst this honour'd strictness you dare keep, +Though all the plagues that e're begotten were +In the great womb of air, were setled here, +In opposition, I would, like the tree, +Shake off those drops of weakness, and be free +Even in the arm of danger. + +_Clor_. Wouldst thou have +Me raise again (fond man) from silent grave, +Those sparks that long agoe were buried here, +With my dead friends cold ashes? + +_Then_. Dearest dear, +I dare not ask it, nor you must not grant; +Stand strongly to your vow, and do not faint: +Remember how he lov'd ye, and be still +The same Opinion speaks ye; let not will, +And that great god of women, appetite, +Set up your blood again; do not invite +Desire and fancie from their long exile, +To set them once more in a pleasing smile: +Be like a rock made firmly up 'gainst all +The power of angry Heaven, or the strong fall +Of _Neptunes_ battery; if ye yield, I die +To all affection; 'tis that loyaltie +Ye tie unto this grave I so admire; +And yet there's something else I would desire, +If you would hear me, but withall deny. +O _Pan_, what an uncertain destiny +Hangs over all my hopes! I will retire, +For if I longer stay, this double fire +Will lick my life up. + +_Clor_. Doe, let time wear out +What Art and Nature cannot bring about. + +_Then_. Farewel thou soul of vertue, and be blest +For ever, whilst that here I wretched rest +Thus to my self; yet grant me leave to dwell +In kenning of this Arbor; yon same dell +O'retopt with morning Cypress and sad Yew +Shall be my Cabin, where I'le early rew, +Before the Sun hath kist this dew away, +The hard uncertain chance which Fate doth lay +Upon this head. + +_Clor_. The gods give quick release +And happy cure unto thy hard disease. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Sullen_. I do not love this wench that I should meet, +For ne'r did my unconstant eye yet greet +That beauty, were it sweeter or more fair, +Than the new blossoms, when the morning air +Blows gently on the[m], or the breaking light, +When many maiden blushes to our sight +Shoot from his early face: were all these set +In some neat form before me, 'twould not get +The least love from me; some desire it might, +Or present burning: all to me in sight +Are equal, be they fair, or black, or brown, +Virgin, or careless wanton, I can crown +My appetite with any; swear as oft +And weep, as any, melt my words as soft +Into a maiden[s] ears, and tell how long +My heart has been her servant, and how strong +My passions are: call her unkind and cruel, +Offer her all I have to gain the Jewel +Maidens so highly prize: then loath, and fly: +This do I hold a blessed destiny. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Amar_. Hail Shepherd, _Pan_ bless both thy flock and thee, +For being mindful of thy word to me. + +_Sul_. Welcom fair Shepherdess, thy loving swain +Gives thee the self same wishes back again, +Who till this present hour ne're knew that eye, +Could make me cross mine arms, or daily dye +With fresh consumings: boldly tell me then, +How shall we part their faithful loves, and when? +Shall I bely him to her, shall I swear +His faith is false, and he loves every where? +I'le say he mockt her th' other day to you, +Which will by your confirming shew as true, +For he is of so pure an honesty, +To think (because he will not) none will lye: +Or else to him I'le slander _Amoret_, +And say, she but seems chaste; I'le swear she met +Me 'mongst the shady Sycamores last night +And loosely offred up her flame and spright +Into my bosom, made a wanton bed +Of leaves and many flowers, where she spread +Her willing body to be prest by me; +There have I carv'd her name on many a tree, +Together with mine own; to make this show +More full of seeming, _Hobinall_ you know, +Son to the aged Shepherd of the glen, +Him I have sorted out of many men, +To say he found us at our private sport, +And rouz'd us 'fore our time by his resort: +This to confirm, I have promis'd to the boy +Many a pretty knack, and many a toy, +As gins to catch him birds, with bow and bolt, +To shoot at nimble Squirrels in the holt; +A pair of painted Buskins, and a Lamb, +Soft as his own locks, or the down of swan; +This I have done to win ye, which doth give +Me double pleasure. Discord makes me live. + +_Amar_. Lov'd swain, I thank ye, these tricks might prevail +With other rustick Shepherds, but will fail +Even once to stir, much more to overthrow +His fixed love from judgement, who doth know +Your nature, my end, and his chosens merit; +Therefore some stranger way must force his spirit, +Which I have found: give second, and my love +Is everlasting thine. + +_Sul_. Try me and prove. + +_Amar_. These happy pair of lovers meet straightway, +Soon as they fold their flocks up with the day, +In the thick grove bordering upon yon Hill, +In whose hard side Nature hath carv'd a well, +And but that matchless spring which Poets know, +Was ne're the like to this: by it doth grow +About the sides, all herbs which Witches use, +All simples good for Medicine or abuse, +All sweets that crown the happy Nuptial day, +With all their colours, there the month of _May_ +Is ever dwelling, all is young and green, +There's not a grass on which was ever seen +The falling _Autumn_, or cold Winters hand, +So full of heat and vertue is the land, +About this fountain, which doth slowly break +Below yon Mountains foot, into a Creek +That waters all the vally, giving Fish +Of many sorts, to fill the Shepherds dish. +This holy well, my grandam that is dead, +Right wise in charms, hath often to me said, +Hath power to change the form of any creature, +Being thrice dipt o're the head, into what feature, +Or shape 'twould please the letter down to crave, +Who must pronounce this charm too, which she gave +Me on her death-bed; told me what, and how, +I should apply unto the Patients brow, +That would be chang'd, casting them thrice asleep, +Before I trusted them into this deep. +All this she shew'd me, and did charge me prove +This secret of her Art, if crost in love. +I'le this attempt; now Shepherd, I have here +All her prescriptions, and I will not fear +To be my self dipt: come, my temples bind +With these sad herbs, and when I sleep you find, +As you do speak your charm, thrice down me let, +And bid the water raise me _Amoret_; +Which being done, leave me to my affair, +And e're the day shall quite it self out-wear, +I will return unto my Shepherds arm, +Dip me again, and then repeat this charm, +And pluck me up my self, whom freely take, +And the hotst fire of thine affection slake. + +_Sul._ And if I fit thee not, then fit not me: +I long the truth of this wells power to see. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter Daphnis._ + +_Daph._ Here will I stay, for this the covert is +Where I appointed _Cloe_; do not miss, +Thou bright-ey'd virgin, come, O come my fair, +Be not abus'd with fear, nor let cold care +Of honour stay thee from the Shepherds arm, +Who would as hard be won to offer harm +To thy chast thoughts, as whiteness from the day, +Or yon great round to move another way. +My language shall be honest, full of truth, +My flames as smooth and spotless as my youth: +I will not entertain that wandring thought, +Whose easie current may at length be brought +To a loose vastness. + +_Alexis within._ Cloe! + +_Daph._ 'Tis her voyce, +And I must answer, _Cloe_! Oh the choice +Of dear embraces, chast and holy strains +Our hands shall give! I charge you all my veins +Through which the blood and spirit take their way, +Lock up your disobedient heats, and stay +Those mutinous desires that else would grow +To strong rebellion: do not wilder show +Than blushing modesty may entertain. + +_Alexis within._ Cloe! + +_Daph._ There sounds that [blessed] name again, + +_Enter_ Alexis. + +And I will meet it: let me not mistake, +This is some Shepherd! sure I am awake; +What may this riddle mean? I will retire, +To give my self more knowledg. + +_Alex._ Oh my fire, +How thou consum'st me! _Cloe,_ answer me, +_Alexis_, strong _Alexis_ , high and free, +Calls upon _Cloe_. See mine arms are full +Of entertainment, ready for to pull +That golden fruit which too too long hath hung +Tempting the greedy eye: thou stayest too long, +I am impatient of these mad delayes; +I must not leave unsought these many ways +That lead into this center, till I find +Quench for my burning lust. I come, unkind. [_Exit_ Alexis. + +_Daph._ Can my imagination work me so much ill, +That I may credit this for truth, and still +Believe mine eyes? or shall I firmly hold +Her yet untainted, and these sights but bold +Illusion? Sure such fancies oft have been +Sent to abuse true love, and yet are seen, +Daring to blind the vertuous thought with errour. +But be they far from me with their fond terrour: +I am resolv'd my _Cloe_ yet is true. [Cloe _within._ +_Cloe_, hark, _Cloe_: Sure this voyce is new, +Whose shrilness like the sounding of a Bell, +Tells me it is a Woman: _Cloe_, tell +Thy blessed name again. _Cloe_. [_within_] Here. +Oh what a grief is this to be so near, +And not incounter! + +_Enter_ Cloe. + +_Clo._ Shepherd, we are met, +Draw close into the covert, lest the wet +Which falls like lazy mists upon the ground +Soke through your Startups. + +_Daph._ Fairest are you found? +How have we wandred, that the better part +Of this good night is perisht? Oh my heart! +How have I long'd to meet ye, how to kiss +Those lilly hands, how to receive the bliss +That charming tongue gives to the happy ear +Of him that drinks your language! but I fear +I am too much unmanner'd, far too rude, +And almost grown lascivious to intrude +These hot behaviours; where regard of fame, +Honour, and modesty, a vertuous name, +And such discourse as one fair Sister may +Without offence unto the Brother say, +Should rather have been tendred: but believe, +Here dwells a better temper; do not grieve +Then, ever kindest, that my first salute +Seasons so much of fancy, I am mute +Henceforth to all discourses, but shall be +Suiting to your sweet thoughts and modestie. +Indeed I will not ask a kiss of you, +No not to wring your fingers, nor to sue +To those blest pair of fixed stars for smiles, +All a young lovers cunning, all his wiles, +And pretty wanton dyings, shall to me +Be strangers; only to your chastitie +I am devoted ever. + +_Clo_. Honest Swain, +First let me thank you, then return again +As much of my love: no thou art too cold, +Unhappy Boy, not tempred to my mold, +Thy blood falls heavy downward, 'tis not fear +To offend in boldness wins, they never wear +Deserved favours that deny to take +When they are offered freely: Do I wake +To see a man of his youth, years and feature, +And such a one as we call goodly creature, +Thus backward? What a world of precious Art +Were meerly lost, to make him do his part? +But I will shake him off, that dares not hold, +Let men that hope to be belov'd be bold. +_Daphnis_, I do desire, since we are met +So happily, our lives and fortunes set +Upon one stake, to give assurance now, +By interchange of hands and holy vow, +Never to break again: walk you that way +Whilest I in zealous meditation stray +A little this way: when we both have ended +These rites and duties, by the woods befriended, +And secrecie of night, retire and find +An aged Oak, whose hollowness may bind +Us both within his body, thither go, +It stands within yon bottom. + +_Daph_. Be it so. [_Ex_. Daph. + +_Clo_. And I will meet there never more with thee, +Thou idle shamefastness. + +_Alex. [within] Chloe!_ + +_Clo_. 'Tis he +That dare I hope be bolder. + +_Alex. Cloe!_ + +_Clo_. Now +Great _Pan_ for _Syrinx_ sake bid speed our Plow. [_Exit_ Cloe. + + + + +_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. + + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd _with_ Amaryllis _in a sleep._ + +_Sull_. From thy forehead thus I take +These herbs, and charge thee not awake +Till in yonder holy Well, +Thrice with powerful Magick spell, +Fill'd with many a baleful word, +Thou hast been dipt; thus with my cord +Of blasted Hemp, by Moon-light twin'd, +I do thy sleepy body bind; +I turn thy head into the East, +And thy feet into the West, +Thy left arm to the South put forth, +And thy right unto the North: +I take thy body from the ground, +In this deep and deadly swound, +And into this holy spring +I let thee slide down by my string. +Take this Maid thou holy pit, +To thy bottom, nearer yet, +In thy water pure and sweet, +By thy leave I dip her feet; +Thus I let her lower yet, +That her ankles may be wet; +Yet down lower, let her knee +In thy waters washed be; +There stop: Fly away +Every thing that loves the day. +Truth that hath but one face, +Thus I charm thee from this place. +Snakes that cast your coats for new, +Camelions that alter hue, +Hares that yearly Sexes change, +_Proteus_ alt'ring oft and strange, +_Hecate_ with shapes three, +Let this Maiden changed be, +With this holy water wet, +To the shape of _Amoret_: +_Cynthia_ work thou with my charm, +Thus I draw thee free from harm +Up out of this blessed Lake, +Rise both like her and awake. [_She awakes_. + +_Amar_. Speak Shepherd, am I _Amoret_ to sight? +Or hast thou mist in any Magick rite; +For want of which any defect in me, +May make our practices discovered be. + +_Sul_. By yonder Moon, but that I here do stand, +Whose breath hath thus transform'd thee, and whose hand +Let thee down dry, and pluckt thee up thus wet, +I should my self take thee for _Amoret_; +Thou art in cloths, in feature, voice and hew +So like, that sense cannot distinguish you. + +_Amar_. Then this deceit which cannot crossed be, +At once shall lose her him, and gain thee me. +Hither she needs must come by promise made, +And sure his nature never was so bad, +To bid a Virgin meet him in the wood, +When night and fear are up, but understood, +'Twas his part to come first: being come, I'le say, +My constant love made me come first and stay, +Then will I lead him further to the grove, +But stay you here, and if his own true love +Shall seek him here, set her in some wrong path, +Which say, her lover lately troden hath; +I'le not be far from hence, if need there be, +Here is another charm, whose power will free +The dazeled sense, read by the Moons beams clear, +And in my own true map make me appear. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Sull_. Stand close, here's _Perigot_, whose constant heart +Longs to behold her in whose shape thou art. + +_Per_. This is the place (fair _Amoret_) the hour +Is yet scarce come: Here every Sylvan power +Delights to be about yon sacred Well, +Which they have blest with many a powerful Spell; +For never Traveller in dead of Night, +Nor strayed Beasts have faln in, but when sight +Hath fail'd them, then their right way they have found +By help of them, so holy is the ground: +But I will farther seek, lest _Amoret_ +Should be first come, and so stray long unmet. +My _Amoret, Amoret_. [_Ex_. Amaryllis, Perigot. + +_Per_. My Love. + +_Amar_. I come my Love. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. Now she has got +Her own desires, and I shall gainer be +Of my long lookt for hopes as well as she. +How bright the moon shines here, as if she strove +To show her Glory in this little Grove, + +_Enter_ Amoret. + +To some new loved Shepherd. Yonder is +Another _Amoret_. Where differs this +From that? but that she _Perigot_ hath met, +I should have ta'n this for the counterfeit: +Herbs, Woods, and Springs, the power that in you lies, +If mortal men could know your Properties! + +_Amo_. Methinks it is not Night, I have no fear, +Walking this Wood, of Lions, or the Bear, +Whose Names at other times have made me quake, +When any Shepherdess in her tale spake +Of some of them, that underneath a Wood +Have torn true Lovers that together stood. +Methinks there are no Goblins, and mens talk, +That in these Woods the nimble Fairies walk, +Are fables; such a strong heart I have got, +Because I come to meet with _Perigot_. +My _Perigot_! who's that, my _Perigot_? + +_Sull_. Fair maid. + +_Amo_. Ay me, thou art not _Perigot_. + +_Sull_. But I can tell ye news of _Perigot_: +An hour together under yonder tree +He sate with wreathed arms and call'd on thee, +And said, why _Amoret_ stayest thou so long? +Then starting up, down yonder path he flung, +Lest thou hadst miss'd thy way: were it day light, +He could not yet have born him out of sight. + +_Amor_. Thanks, gentle Shepherd, and beshrew my stay, +That made me fearful I had lost my way: +As fast as my weak Legs (that cannot be +Weary with seeking him) will carry me, +I'll seek him out; and for thy Courtesie +Pray _Pan_ thy Love may ever follow thee. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. How bright she was, how lovely did she show! +Was it not pity to deceive her so? +She pluckt her Garments up, and tript away, +And with her Virgin-innocence did pray +For me that perjur'd her. Whilst she was here, +Methought the Beams of Light that did appear +Were shot from her; methought the Moon gave none, +But what it had from her: she was alone +With me, if then her presence did so move, +Why did not I essay to win her Love? +She would not sure have yielded unto me; +Women love only Opportunitie, +And not the Man; or if she had deny'd, +Alone, I might have forc'd her to have try'd +Who had been stronger: O vain Fool, to let +Such blest Occasion pass; I'll follow yet, +My Blood is up, I cannot now forbear. + +_Enter_ Alex, _and_ Cloe. + +I come sweet _Amoret_: Soft who is here? +A pair of Lovers? He shall yield her me; +"Now Lust is up, alike all Women be. + +_Alex_. Where shall we rest? but for the love of me, +_Cloe_, I know ere this would weary be. + +_Clo_. _Alexis_, let us rest here, if the place +Be private, and out of the common trace +Of every Shepherd: for I understood +This Night a number are about the Wood: +Then let us chuse some place, where out of sight +We freely may enjoy our stoln delight. + +_Alex_. Then boldly here, where we shall ne're be found, +No Shepherds way lies here, 'tis hallow'd ground: +No Maid seeks here her strayed Cow, or Sheep, +Fairies, and Fawns, and Satyrs do it keep: +Then carelesly rest here, and clip and kiss, +And let no fear make us our pleasures miss. + +_Clo_. Then lye by me, the sooner we begin, +The longer ere the day descry our sin. + +_Sull_. Forbear to touch my Love, or by yon flame, +The greatest power that Shepherds dare to name, +Here where thou sit'st under this holy tree +Her to dishonour, thou shalt buried be. + +_Alex_. If _Pan_ himself, should come out of the lawns, +With all his Troops of Satyrs and of Fawns, +And bid me leave, I swear by her two eyes, +A greater Oath than thine, I would not rise. + +_Sull_. Then from the cold Earth never shalt thou move, +But lose at one stroke both thy Life and Love. + +_Clo_. Hold gentle Shepherd. + +_Sull_. Fairest Shepherdess, +Come you with me, I do not love you less +Than that fond man, that would have kept you there +From me of more desert. + +_Alex_. O yet forbear +To take her from me; give me leave to dye +By her. + +[_The Satyr enters, he runs one way, and she another_. + +_Sat_. Now whilst the Moon doth rule the Skie, +And the Stars, whose feeble light +Give a pale Shadow to the night, +Are up, great _Pan_ commanded me +To walk this Grove about, whilst he +In a corner of the Wood, +Where never mortal foot hath stood, +Keeps dancing, musick, and a feast +To entertain a lovely Guest, +Where he gives her many a Rose, +Sweeter than the breath that blows +The leaves; Grapes, Berries of the best, +I never saw so great a feast. +But to my Charge: here must I stay, +To see what mortals lose their way, +And by a false fire seeming bright, +Train them in and leave them right. +Then must I watch if any be +Forcing of a Chastitie: +If I find it, then in haste +Give my wreathed horn a Blast, +And the Fairies all will run, +Wildly dancing by the Moon, +And will pinch him to the bone, +Till his lustful thoughts be gone. + +_Alex_. O Death! + +_Sat_. Back again about this ground, +Sure I hear a mortal sound; +I bind thee by this powerful Spell, +By the Waters of this Well, +By the glimmering Moon beams bright, +Speak again, thou mortal wight. + +_Alex_. Oh! + +_Sat_. Here the foolish mortal lies, +Sleeping on the ground: arise. +The poor wight is almost dead, +On the ground his wounds have bled, +And his cloaths foul'd with his blood: +To my Goddess in the Wood +Will I lead him, whose hands pure, +Will help this mortal wight to cure. + +_Enter_ Cloe _again_. + +_Clo_. Since I beheld yon shaggy man, my Breast +Doth pant, each bush, methinks, should hide a Beast: +Yet my desire keeps still above my fear, +I would fain meet some Shepherd, knew I where: +For from one cause of fear I am most free, +It is impossible to ravish me, +I am so willing. Here upon this ground +I left my Love all bloody with his wound; +Yet till that fearful shape made me be gone, +Though he were hurt, I furnisht was of one, +But now both lost. _Alexis_, speak or move, +If thou hast any life, thou art yet my Love. +He's dead, or else is with his little might +Crept from the Bank for fear of that ill Spright. +Then where art thou that struck'st my love? O stay, +Bring me thy self in change, and then I'll say +Thou hast some justice, I will make thee trim +With Flowers and Garlands that were meant for him; +I'll clip thee round with both mine arms, as fast +As I did mean he should have been embrac'd: +But thou art fled. What hope is left for me? +I'll run to _Daphnis_ in the hollow tree, +Whom I did mean to mock, though hope be small, +To make him bold; rather than none at all, +I'll try him; his heart, and my behaviour too +Perhaps may teach him what he ought to do. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Sul_. This was the place, 'twas but my feeble sight, +Mixt with the horrour of my deed, and night, +That shap't these fears, and made me run away, +And lose my beauteous hardly gotten prey. +Speak gentle Shepherdess, I am alone, +And tender love for love: but she is gone +From me, that having struck her Lover dead, +For silly fear left her alone and fled. +And see the wounded body is remov'd +By her of whom it was so well belov'd. + +_Enter_ Perigot _and_ Amaryllis _in the shape of_ Amoret. + +But these fancies must be quite forgot, +I must lye close. Here comes young _Perigot_ +With subtile _Amaryllis_ in the shape +Of _Amoret_. Pray Love he may not 'scape. + +_Amar_. Beloved _Perigot_, shew me some place, +Where I may rest my limbs, weak with the Chace +Of thee, an hour before thou cam'st at least. + +_Per_. Beshrew my tardy steps: here shalt thou rest +Upon this holy bank, no deadly Snake +Upon this turf her self in folds doth make. +Here is no poyson for the Toad to feed; +Here boldly spread thy hands, no venom'd Weed +Dares blister them, no slimy Snail dare creep +Over thy face when thou art fast asleep; +Here never durst the babling Cuckow spit, +No slough of falling Star did ever hit +Upon this bank: let this thy Cabin be, +This other set with Violets for me. + +_Ama_. Thou dost not love me _Perigot_. + +_Per_. Fair maid, +You only love to hear it often said; +You do not doubt. + +_Amar_. Believe me but I do. + +_Per_. What shall we now begin again to woo? +'Tis the best way to make your Lover last, +To play with him, when you have caught him fast. + +_Amar_. By _Pan_ I swear, I loved _Perigot_, +And by yon Moon, I think thou lov'st me not. + +_Per_. By _Pan_ I swear, and if I falsely swear, +Let him not guard my flocks, let Foxes tear +My earliest Lambs, and Wolves whilst I do sleep +Fall on the rest, a Rot among my Sheep. +I love thee better than the careful Ewe +The new-yean'd Lamb that is of her own hew; +I dote upon thee more than the young Lamb +Doth on the bag that feeds him from his Dam. +Were there a sort of Wolves got in my Fold, +And one ran after thee, both young and old +Should be devour'd, and it should be my strife +To save thee, whom I love above my life. + +_Ama_. How shall I trust thee when I see thee chuse +Another Bed, and dost my side refuse? + +_Per_. 'Twas only that the chast thoughts might be shewn +'Twixt thee and me, although we were alone. + +_Ama_. Come, _Perigot_ will shew his power, that he +Can make his _Amoret_, though she weary be, +Rise nimbly from her Couch, and come to his. +Here take thy _Amoret_, embrace and kiss. + +_Per_. What means my Love? + +_Ama_. To do as lovers shou'd, +That are to be enjoy'd, not to be woo'd. +There's ne'r a Shepherdess in all the plain +Can kiss thee with more Art, there's none can feign +More wanton tricks. + +_Per_. Forbear, dear Soul, to trie +Whether my Heart be pure; I'll rather die +Than nourish one thought to dishonour thee. + +_Amar_. Still think'st thou such a thing as Chastitie +Is amongst Women? _Perigot_ there's none, +That with her Love is in a Wood alone, +And would come home a maid; be not abus'd +With thy fond first Belief, let time be us'd: +Why dost thou rise? + +_Per_. My true heart thou hast slain. + +_Ama_. Faith _Perigot_, I'll pluck thee down again. + +_Per_. Let go, thou Serpent, that into my brest +Hast with thy cunning div'd; art not in Jest? + +_Ama_. Sweet love, lye down. + +_Per_. Since this I live to see, +Some bitter North-wind blast my flocks and me. + +_Ama_. You swore you lov'd, yet will not do my will. + +_Per_. O be as thou wert once, I'll love thee still. + +_Ama_. I am, as still I was, and all my kind, +Though other shows we have poor men to blind. + +_Per_. Then here I end all Love, and lest my vain +Belief should ever draw me in again, +Before thy face that hast my Youth misled, +I end my life, my blood be on thy head. + +_Ama._ O hold thy hands, thy _Amoret_ doth cry. + +_Per._ Thou counsel'st well, first _Amoret_ shall dye, +That is the cause of my eternal smart. [_He runs after her._ + +_Ama._ O hold. + +_Per._ This steel shall pierce thy lustful heart. + +[_The Sullen Shepherd steps out and uncharms her._ + +_Sull._ Up and down every where, +I strew the herbs to purge the air: +Let your Odour drive hence +All mists that dazel sence. +Herbs and Springs whose hidden might +Alters Shapes, and mocks the sight, +Thus I charge you to undo +All before I brought ye to: +Let her flye, let her 'scape, +Give again her own shape. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis _in her own shape._ + +_Amar._ Forbear thou gentle Swain, thou dost mistake, +She whom thou follow'dst fled into the brake, +And as I crost thy way, I met thy wrath, +The only fear of which near slain me hath. + +_Per._ Pardon fair Shepherdess, my rage and night +Were both upon me, and beguil'd my sight; +But far be it from me to spill the blood +Of harmless Maids that wander in the Wood. [_Ex._ Ama. + +_Enter_ Amoret. + +_Amor._ Many a weary step in yonder path +Poor hopeless _Amoret_ twice trodden hath +To seek her _Perigot_, yet cannot hear +His Voice; my _Perigot_, she loves thee dear +That calls. + +_Per._ See yonder where she is, how fair +She shows, and yet her breath infefts the air. + +_Amo._ My Perigot. + +_Per._ Here. + +_Amo._ Happy. + +_Per._ Hapless first: +It lights on thee, the next blow is the worst. + +_Amo._ Stay _Perigot_, my love, thou art unjust. + +_Peri._ Death is the best reward that's due to lust. [_Exit_ Perigot. + +_Sul._ Now shall their love be crost, for being struck, +I'le throw her in the Fount, lest being took +By some night-travaller, whose honest care +May help to cure her. Shepherdess prepare +Your self to die. + +_Amo._ No Mercy I do crave, +Thou canst not give a worse blow than I have; +Tell him that gave me this, who lov'd him too, +He struck my soul, and not my body through, +Tell him when I am dead, my soul shall be +At peace, if he but think he injur'd me. + +_Sul._ In this Fount be thy grave, thou wert not meant +Sure for a woman, thou art so innocent. [_flings her into the well_ +She cannot scape, for underneath the ground, +In a long hollow the clear spring is bound, +Till on yon side where the Morns Sun doth look, +The strugling water breaks out in a Brook. [_Exit._ + +[_The God of the River riseth with_ Amoret _in his arms._ + +_God._ What powerfull charms my streams do bring +Back again unto their spring, +With such force, that I their god, +Three times striking with my Rod, +Could not keep them in their ranks: +My Fishes shoot into the banks, +There's not one that stayes and feeds, +All have hid them in the weeds. +Here's a mortal almost dead, +Faln into my River head, +Hallowed so with many a spell, +That till now none ever fell. +'Tis a Female young and clear, +Cast in by some Ravisher. +See upon her breast a wound, +On which there is no plaister bound. +Yet she's warm, her pulses beat, +'Tis a sign of life and heat. +If thou be'st a Virgin pure, +I can give a present cure: +Take a drop into thy wound +From my watry locks more round +Than Orient Pearl, and far more pure +Than unchast flesh may endure. +See she pants, and from her flesh +The warm blood gusheth out afresh. +She is an unpolluted maid; +I must have this bleeding staid. +From my banks I pluck this flower +With holy hand, whose vertuous power +Is at once to heal and draw. +The blood returns. I never saw +A fairer Mortal. Now doth break +Her deadly slumber: Virgin, speak. + +_Amo._ Who hath restor'd my sense, given me new breath, +And brought me back out of the arms of death? + +_God._ I have heal'd thy wounds. + +_Amo._ Ay me! + +_God._ Fear not him that succour'd thee: +I am this Fountains god; below, +My waters to a River grow, +And 'twixt two banks with Osiers set, +That only prosper in the wet, +Through the Meadows do they glide, +Wheeling still on every side, +Sometimes winding round about, +To find the evenest channel out. +And if thou wilt go with me, +Leaving mortal companie, +In the cool streams shalt thou lye, +Free from harm as well as I: +I will give thee for thy food, +No Fish that useth in the mud, +But Trout and Pike that love to swim +Where the gravel from the brim +Through the pure streams may be seen: +Orient Pearl fit for a Queen, +Will I give thy love to win, +And a shell to keep them in: +Not a Fish in all my Brook +That shall disobey thy look, +But when thou wilt, come sliding by, +And from thy white hand take a fly. +And to make thee understand, +How I can my waves command, +They shall bubble whilst I sing +Sweeter than the silver spring. + +_The SONG. + +Do not fear to put thy feet +Naked in the River sweet; +Think not Leach, or Newt or Toad +Will bite thy foot, when thou hast troad; +Nor let the water rising high, +As thou wad'st in, make thee crie +And sob, but ever live with me, +And not a wave shall trouble thee._ + +_Amo._ Immortal power, that rul'st this holy flood, +I know my self unworthy to be woo'd +By thee a god: for e're this, but for thee +I should have shown my weak Mortalitie: +Besides, by holy Oath betwixt us twain, +I am betroath'd unto a Shepherd swain, +Whose comely face, I know the gods above +May make me leave to see, but not to love. + +_God._ May he prove to thee as true. +Fairest Virgin, now adieu, +I must make my waters fly, +Lest they leave their Channels dry, +And beasts that come unto the spring +Miss their mornings watering, +Which I would not; for of late +All the neighbour people sate +On my banks, and from the fold, +Two white Lambs of three weeks old +Offered to my Deitie: +For which this year they shall be free +From raging floods, that as they pass +Leave their gravel in the grass: +Nor shall their Meads be overflown, +When their grass is newly mown. + +_Amo._ For thy kindness to me shown, +Never from thy banks be blown +Any tree, with windy force, +Cross thy streams, to stop thy course: +May no beast that comes to drink, +With his horns cast down thy brink; +May none that for thy fish do look, +Cut thy banks to damm thy Brook; +Bare-foot may no Neighbour wade +In thy cool streams, wife nor maid, +When the spawns on stones do lye, +To wash their Hemp, and spoil the Fry. + +_God._ Thanks Virgin, I must down again, +Thy wound will put thee to no pain: +Wonder not so soon 'tis gone: +A holy hand was laid upon. + +_Amo._ And I unhappy born to be, +Must follow him that flies from me. + + + + +_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per._ She is untrue, unconstant, and unkind, +She's gone, she's gone, blow high thou North-west wind, +And raise the Sea to Mountains, let the Trees +That dare oppose thy raging fury, leese +Their firm foundation, creep into the Earth, +And shake the world, as at the monstrous birth +Of some new Prodigy, whilst I constant stand, +Holding this trustie Boar-spear in my hand, +And falling thus upon it. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis, _running._ + +_Amar._ Stay thy dead-doing hand, thou art too hot +Against thy self, believe me comely Swain, +If that thou dyest, not all the showers of Rain +The heavy clods send down can wash away +That foul unmanly guilt, the world will lay +Upon thee. Yet thy love untainted stands: +Believe me, she is constant, not the sands +Can be so hardly numbred as she won: +I do not trifle, _Shepherd_, by the Moon, +And all those lesser lights our eyes do view, +All that I told thee _Perigot_, is true: +Then be a free man, put away despair, +And will to dye, smooth gently up that fair +Dejected forehead: be as when those eyes +Took the first heat. + +_Per._ Alas he double dyes, +That would believe, but cannot; 'tis not well +Ye keep me thus from dying, here to dwell +With many worse companions: but oh death, +I am not yet inamour'd of this breath +So much, but I dare leave it, 'tis not pain +In forcing of a wound, nor after gain +Of many dayes, can hold me from my will: +'Tis not my self, but _Amoret_, bids kill. + +_Ama._ Stay but a little, little, but one hour, +And if I do not show thee through the power +Of herbs and words I have, as dark as night, +My self turn'd to thy _Amoret_, in sight, +Her very figure, and the Robe she wears, +With tawny Buskins, and the hook she bears +Of thine own Carving, where your names are set, +Wrought underneath with many a curious fret, +The _Prim-Rose_ Chaplet, taudry-lace and Ring, +Thou gavest her for her singing, with each thing +Else that she wears about her, let me feel +The first fell stroke of that Revenging steel. + +_Per._ I am contented, if there be a hope +To give it entertainment, for the scope +Of one poor hour; goe, you shall find me next +Under yon shady Beech, even thus perplext, +And thus believing. + +_Ama._ Bind before I goe, +Thy soul by _Pan_ unto me, not to doe +Harm or outragious wrong upon thy life, +Till my return. + +_Per._ By _Pan_, and by the strife +He had with _Phoebus_ for the Mastery, +When Golden _Midas_ judg'd their _Minstrelcy_, +I will not. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Satyr, _with_ Alexis, _hurt._ + +_Satyr._ Softly gliding as I goe, +With this burthen full of woe, +Through still silence of the night, +Guided by the Gloe-worms light, +Hither am I come at last, +Many a Thicket have I past +Not a twig that durst deny me, +Not a bush that durst descry me, +To the little Bird that sleeps +On the tender spray: nor creeps +That hardy worm with pointed tail, +But if I be under sail, +Flying faster than the wind, +Leaving all the clouds behind, +But doth hide her tender head +In some hollow tree or bed +Of seeded Nettles: not a Hare +Can be started from his fare, +By my footing, nor a wish +Is more sudden, nor a fish +Can be found with greater ease, +Cut the vast unbounded seas, +Leaving neither print nor sound, +Than I, when nimbly on the ground, +I measure many a league an hour: +But behold the happy power, +That must ease me of my charge, +And by holy hand enlarge +The soul of this sad man, that yet +Lyes fast bound in deadly fit; +Heaven and great _Pan_ succour it! +Hail thou beauty of the bower, +Whiter than the Paramour +Of my Master, let me crave +Thy vertuous help to keep from Grave +This poor Mortal that here lyes, +Waiting when the destinies +Will cut off his thred of life: +View the wound by cruel knife +Trencht into him. + +_Clor._ What art thou call'st me from my holy rites, +And with thy feared name of death affrights +My tender Ears? speak me thy name and will. + +_Satyr._ I am the _Satyr_ that did fill +Your lap with early fruit, and will, +When I hap to gather more, +Bring ye better and more store: +Yet I come not empty now, +See a blossom from the bow, +But beshrew his heart that pull'd it, +And his perfect sight that cull'd it +From the other springing blooms; +For a sweeter youth the Grooms +Cannot show me, nor the downs, +Nor the many neighbouring towns; +Low in yonder glade I found him, +Softly in mine Arms I bound him, +Hither have I brought him sleeping +In a trance, his wounds fresh weeping, +In remembrance such youth may +Spring and perish in a day. + +_Clor._ _Satyr_, they wrong thee, that do term thee rude, +Though thou beest outward rough and tawny hu'd, +Thy manners are as gentle and as fair +As his, who brags himself, born only heir +To all Humanity: let me see the wound: +This Herb will stay the current being bound +Fast to the Orifice, and this restrain +Ulcers, and swellings, and such inward pain, +As the cold air hath forc'd into the sore: +This to draw out such putrifying gore +As inward falls. + +_Satyr._ Heaven grant it may doe good. + +_Clor._ Fairly wipe away the blood: +Hold him gently till I fling +Water of a vertuous spring +On his temples; turn him twice +To the Moon beams, pinch him thrice, +That the labouring soul may draw +From his great eclipse. + +_Satyr._ I saw +His eye-lids moving. + +_Clo._ Give him breath, +All the danger of cold death +Now is vanisht; with this Plaster, +And this unction, do I master +All the festred ill that may +Give him grief another day. + +_Satyr._ See he gathers up his spright +And begins to hunt for light; +Now he gapes and breaths again: +How the blood runs to the vein, +That erst was empty! + +_Alex._ O my heart, +My dearest, dearest _Cloe_, O the smart +Runs through my side: I feel some pointed thing +Pass through my Bowels, sharper than the sting +Of Scorpion. + + Pan preserve me, what are you? + Do not hurt me, I am true + To my _Cloe_, though she flye, + And leave me to thy destiny. + There she stands, and will not lend + Her smooth white hand to help her friend: + +But I am much mistaken, for that face +Bears more Austerity and modest grace, + + More reproving and more awe + Than these eyes yet ever saw + In my Cloe. Oh my pain + Eagerly renews again. + +Give me your help for his sake you love best. + +_Clor._ Shepherd, thou canst not possibly take rest, +Till thou hast laid aside all hearts desires +Provoking thought that stir up lusty fires, +Commerce with wanton eyes, strong blood, and will +To execute, these must be purg'd, untill +The vein grow whiter; then repent, and pray +Great _Pan_ to keep you from the like decay, +And I shall undertake your cure with ease. +Till when this vertuous Plaster will displease +Your tender sides; give me your hand and rise: +Help him a little _Satyr_, for his thighs +Yet are feeble. + +_Alex._ Sure I have lost much blood. + +_Satyr._ 'Tis no matter, 'twas not good. +Mortal you must leave your wooing, +Though there be a joy in doing, +Yet it brings much grief behind it, +They best feel it, that do find it. + +_Clor._ Come bring him in, I will attend his sore +When you are well, take heed you lust no more. + +_Satyr._ Shepherd, see what comes of kissing, +By my head 'twere better missing. +Brightest, if there be remaining +Any service, without feigning +I will do it; were I set +To catch the nimble wind, or get +Shadows gliding on the green, +Or to steal from the great Queen +Of _Fayries_, all her beauty, +I would do it, so much duty +Do I owe those precious Eyes. + +_Clor._ I thank thee honest _Satyr_, if the cryes +Of any other that be hurt or ill, +Draw thee unto them, prithee do thy will +To bring them hither. + +_Satyr._ I will, and when the weather +Serves to Angle in the brook, +I will bring a silver hook, +With a line of finest silk, +And a rod as white as milk, +To deceive the little fish: +So I take my leave, and wish, +On this Bower may ever dwell +Spring, and Summer. + +_Clo_. Friend farewel. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Amoret, _seeking her Love_. + +_Amor_. This place is Ominous, for here I lost +My Love and almost life, and since have crost +All these Woods over, never a Nook or Dell, +Where any little Bird, or Beast doth dwell, +But I have sought him, never a bending brow +Of any Hill or Glade, the wind sings through, +Nor a green bank, nor shade where Shepherds use +To sit and Riddle, sweetly pipe, or chuse +Their Valentines, that I have mist, to find +My love in. _Perigot_, Oh too unkind, +Why hast thou fled me? whither art thou gone? +How have I wrong'd thee? was my love alone +To thee worthy this scorn'd recompence? 'tis well, +I am content to feel it: but I tell +Thee Shepherd, and these lusty woods shall hear, +Forsaken _Amoret_ is yet as clear +Of any stranger fire, as Heaven is +From foul corruption, or the deep Abysse +From light and happiness; and thou mayst know +All this for truth, and how that fatal blow +Thou gav'st me, never from desert of mine, +Fell on my life, but from suspect of thine, +Or fury more than madness; therefore, here, +Since I have lost my life, my love, my dear, +Upon this cursed place, and on this green, +That first divorc'd us, shortly shall be seen +A sight of so great pity, that each eye +Shall dayly spend his spring in memory +Of my untimely fall. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Amar_. I am not blind, +Nor is it through the working of my mind, +That this shows _Amoret_; forsake me all +That dwell upon the soul, but what men call +Wonder, or more than wonder, miracle, +For sure so strange as this the Oracle +Never gave answer of, it passeth dreams, +Or mad-mens fancy, when the many streams +Of new imaginations rise and fall: +'Tis but an hour since these Ears heard her call +For pity to young _Perigot_; whilest he, +Directed by his fury bloodily +Lanc't up her brest, which bloodless fell and cold; +And if belief may credit what was told, +After all this, the Melancholy Swain +Took her into his arms being almost slain, +And to the bottom of the holy well +Flung her, for ever with the waves to dwell. +'Tis she, the very same, 'tis _Amoret_, +And living yet, the great powers will not let +Their vertuous love be crost. Maid, wipe away +Those heavy drops of sorrow, and allay +The storm that yet goes high, which not deprest, +Breaks heart and life, and all before it rest: +Thy _Perigot_-- + +_Amor_. Where, which is _Perigot?_ + +_Amar_. Sits there below, lamenting much, god wot, +Thee [and thy] fortune, go and comfort him, +And thou shalt find him underneath a brim +Of sailing Pines that edge yon Mountain in. + +_Amo_. I go, I run, Heaven grant me I may win +His soul again. [_Exit_ Amoret. + +_Enter_ Sullen. + +_Sull_. Stay _Amaryllis_, stay, +Ye are too fleet, 'tis two hours yet to day. +I have perform'd my promise, let us sit +And warm our bloods together till the fit +Come lively on us. + +_Amar_. Friend you are too keen, +The morning riseth and we shall be seen, +Forbear a little. + +_Sull_. I can stay no longer. + +_Amar_. Hold _Shepherd_ hold, learn not to be a wronger +Of your word, was not your promise laid, +To break their loves first? + +_Sull_. I have done it Maid. + +_Amar_. No, they are yet unbroken, met again, +And are as hard to part yet as the stain +Is from the finest Lawn. + +_Sull_. I say they are +Now at this present parted, and so far, +That they shall never meet. + +_Amar_. Swain 'tis not so, +For do but to yon hanging Mountain go, +And there believe your eyes. + +_Sull_. You do but hold +Off with delayes and trifles; farewell cold +And frozen bashfulness, unfit for men; +Thus I salute thee Virgin. + +_Amar_. And thus then, +I bid you follow, catch me if you can. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. And if I stay behind I am no man. [_Exit running after her_. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per_. Night do not steal away: I woo thee yet +To hold a hard hand o're the rusty bit +That guides the lazy Team: go back again, +_Bootes_, thou that driv'st thy frozen Wain +Round as a Ring, and bring a second Night +To hide my sorrows from the coming light; +Let not the eyes of men stare on my face, +And read my falling, give me some black place +Where never Sun-beam shot his wholesome light, +That I may sit and pour out my sad spright +Like running water, never to be known +After the forced fall and sound is gone. + +_Enter_ Amoret _looking for_ Perigot. + +_Amo_. This is the bottom: speak if thou be here, +My _Perigot_, thy _Amoret_, thy dear +Calls on thy loved Name. + +_Per_. What art thou [dare] +Tread these forbidden paths, where death and care +Dwell on the face of darkness? + +_Amo_. 'Tis thy friend, +Thy _Amoret_, come hither to give end +To these consumings; look up gentle Boy, +I have forgot those Pains and dear annoy +I suffer'd for thy sake, and am content +To be thy love again; why hast thou rent +Those curled locks, where I have often hung +Riband and Damask-roses, and have flung +Waters distil'd to make thee fresh and gay, +Sweeter than the Nosegayes on a Bridal day? +Why dost thou cross thine Arms, and hang thy face +Down to thy bosom, letting fall apace +From those two little Heavens upon the ground +Showers of more price, more Orient, and more round +Than those that hang upon the Moons pale brow? +Cease these complainings, Shepherd, I am now +The same I ever was, as kind and free, +And can forgive before you ask of me. +Indeed I can and will. + +_Per_. So spoke my fair. +O you great working powers of Earth and Air, +Water and forming fire, why have you lent +Your hidden vertues of so ill intent? +Even such a face, so fair, so bright of hue +Had _Amoret_; such words so smooth and new, +Came flying from her tongue; such was her eye, +And such the pointed sparkle that did flye +Forth like a bleeding shaft; all is the same, +The Robe and Buskins, painted Hook, and frame +Of all her Body. O me, _Amoret_! + +_Amo_. Shepherd, what means this Riddle? who hath set +So strong a difference 'twixt my self and me +That I am grown another? look and see +The Ring thou gav'st me, and about my wrist +That curious Bracelet thou thy self didst twist +From those fair Tresses: knowst thou _Amoret_? +Hath not some newer love forc'd thee forget +Thy Ancient faith? + +_Per_. Still nearer to my love; +These be the very words she oft did prove +Upon my temper, so she still would take +Wonder into her face, and silent make +Signs with her head and hand, as who would say, +Shepherd remember this another day. + +_Amo_. Am I not _Amaret_? where was I lost? +Can there be Heaven, and time, and men, and most +Of these unconstant? Faith where art thou fled? +Are all the vows and protestations dead, +The hands [held] up, the wishes, and the heart, +Is there not one remaining, not a part +Of all these to be found? why then I see +Men never knew that vertue Constancie. + +_Per_. Men ever were most blessed, till crass fate +Brought Love and Women forth, unfortunate +To all that ever tasted of their smiles, +Whose actions are all double, full of wiles: +Like to the subtil Hare, that 'fore the Hounds +Makes many turnings, leaps and many rounds, +This way and that way, to deceive the scent +Of her pursuers. + +_Amo_. 'Tis but to prevent +Their speedy coming on that seek her fall, +The hands of cruel men, more Bestial, +And of a nature more refusing good +Than Beasts themselves, or Fishes of the Flood. + +_Per_. Thou art all these, and more than nature meant, +When she created all, frowns, joys, content; +Extream fire for an hour, and presently +Colder than sleepy poyson, or the Sea, +Upon whose face sits a continual frost: +Your actions ever driven to the most, +Then down again as low, that none can find +The rise or falling of a Womans mind. + +_Amo_. Can there be any Age, or dayes, or time, +Or tongues of men, guilty so great a crime +As wronging simple Maid? O _Perigot_, +Thou that wast yesterday without a blot, +Thou that wast every good, and every thing +That men call blessed; thou that wast the spring +From whence our looser grooms drew all their best; +Thou that wast alwayes just, and alwayes blest +In faith and promise; thou that hadst the name +Of Vertuous given thee, and made good the same +Ev'en from thy Cradle; thou that wast that all +That men delighted in; Oh what a fall +Is this, to have been so, and now to be +The only best in wrong and infamie, +And I to live to know this! and by me +That lov'd thee dearer than mine eyes, or that +Which we esteem'd our honour, Virgin state; +Dearer than Swallows love the early morn, +Or Dogs of Chace the sound of merry Horn; +Dearer than thou canst love thy new Love, if thou hast +Another, and far dearer than the last; +Dearer than thou canst love thy self, though all +The self love were within thee that did fall +With that coy Swain that now is made a flower, +For whose dear sake, Echo weeps many a shower. +And am I thus rewarded for my flame? +Lov'd worthily to get a wantons name? +Come thou forsaken Willow, wind my head, +And noise it to the world my Love is dead: +I am forsaken, I am cast away. +And left for every lazy Groom to say, +I was unconstant, light, and sooner lost +Than the quick Clouds we see, or the chill Frost +When the hot Sun beats on it. Tell me yet, +Canst thou not love again thy _Amoret_? + +_Per_. Thou art not worthy of that blessed name, +I must not know thee, fling thy wanton flame +Upon some lighter blood, that may be hot +With words and feigned passions: _Perigot_ +Was ever yet unstain'd, and shall not now +Stoop to the meltings of a borrowed brow. + +_Amo_. Then hear me heaven, to whom I call for right, +And you fair twinkling stars that crown the night; +And hear me woods, and silence of this place, +And ye sad hours that move a sullen pace; +Hear me ye shadows that delight to dwell +In horrid darkness, and ye powers of Hell, +Whilst I breath out my last; I am that maid, +That yet untainted _Amoret_, that plaid +The careless prodigal, and gave away +My soul to this young man, that now dares say +I am a stranger, not the same, more wild; +And thus with much belief I was beguil'd. +I am that maid, that have delaid, deny'd, +And almost scorn'd the loves of all that try'd +To win me, but this swain, and yet confess +I have been woo'd by many with no less +Soul of affection, and have often had +Rings, Belts, and Cracknels sent me from the lad +That feeds his flocks down westward; Lambs and Doves +By young _Alexis; Daphnis_ sent me gloves, +All which I gave to thee: nor these, nor they +That sent them did I smile on, or e're lay +Up to my after-memory. But why +Do I resolve to grieve, and not to dye? +Happy had been the stroke thou gav'st, if home; +By this time had I found a quiet room +Where every slave is free, and every brest +That living breeds new care, now lies at rest, +And thither will poor _Amoret_. + +_Per_. Thou must. +Was ever any man so loth to trust +His eyes as I? or was there ever yet +Any so like as this to _Amoret_? +For whose dear sake, I promise if there be +A living soul within thee, thus to free +Thy body from it. [_He hurts her again_. + +_Amo_. So, this work hath end: +Farewel and live, be constant to thy friend +That loves thee next. + +_Enter_ Satyr, Perigot _runs off_. + +_Satyr_. See the day begins to break, +And the light shoots like a streak +Of subtil fire, the wind blows cold, +Whilst the morning doth unfold; +Now the Birds begin to rouse, +And the Squirril from the boughs +Leaps to get him Nuts and fruit; +The early Lark that erst was mute, +Carrols to the rising day +Many a note and many a lay: +Therefore here I end my watch, +Lest the wandring swain should catch +Harm, or lose himself. + +_Amo_. Ah me! + +_Satyr_. Speak again what e're thou be, +I am ready, speak I say: +By the dawning of the day, +By the power of night and _Pan_, +I inforce thee speak again. + +_Amo_. O I am most unhappy. + +_Satyr_. Yet more blood! +Sure these wanton Swains are wode. +Can there be a hand or heart +Dare commit so vile a part +As this Murther? By the Moon +That hid her self when this was done, +Never was a sweeter face: +I will bear her to the place +Where my Goddess keeps; and crave +Her to give her life, or grave. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Clorin. + +_Clor_. Here whilst one patient takes his rest secure +I steal abroad to doe another Cure. +Pardon thou buryed body of my love, +That from thy side I dare so soon remove, +I will not prove unconstant, nor will leave +Thee for an hour alone. When I deceive +My first made vow, the wildest of the wood +Tear me, and o're thy Grave let out my blood; +I goe by wit to cure a lovers pain +Which no herb can; being done, I'le come again. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. Poor Shepherd in this shade for ever lye, +And seeing thy fair _Clorins_ Cabin, dye: +0 hapless love, which [being] answer'd, ends; +And as a little infant cryes and bends +His tender Brows, when rowling of his eye +He hath espy'd some thing that glisters nigh +Which he would have, yet give it him, away +He throws it straight, and cryes afresh to play +With something else: such my affection, set +On that which I should loath, if I could get. + +_Enter_ Clorin. + +_Clor_. See where he lyes; did ever man but he +Love any woman for her Constancie +To her dead lover, which she needs must end +Before she can allow him for her friend, +And he himself must needs the cause destroy, +For which he loves, before he can enjoy? +Poor _Shepherd_, Heaven grant I at once may free +Thee from thy pain, and keep my loyaltie: +_Shepherd_, look up. + +_The_. Thy brightness doth amaze! +So _Phoebus_ may at noon bid mortals gaze, +Thy glorious constancie appears so bright, +I dare not meet the Beams with my weak sight. + +_Clor_. Why dost thou pine away thy self for me? + +_The_. Why dost thou keep such spotless constancie? + +_Clor_. Thou holy _Shepherd_, see what for thy sake +_Clorin_, thy _Clorin_, now dare under take. [_He starts up_. + +_The_. Stay there, thou constant _Clorin_, if there be +Yet any part of woman left in thee, +To make thee light: think yet before thou speak. + +_Clor_. See what a holy vow for thee I break. +I that already have my fame far spread +For being constant to my lover dead. + +_The_. Think yet, dear _Clorin_, of your love, how true, +If you had dyed, he would have been to you. + +_Clor_. Yet all I'le lose for thee. + +_The_. Think but how blest +A constant woman is above the rest. + +_Clor_. And offer up my self, here on this ground, +To be dispos'd by thee. + +_The_. Why dost thou wound +His heart with malice, against woman more, +That hated all the Sex, but thee before? +How much more pleasant had it been to me +To dye, than to behold this change in thee? +Yet, yet, return, let not the woman sway. + +_Clor_. Insult not on her now, nor use delay, +Who for thy sake hath ventur'd all her fame. + +_The_. Thou hast not ventur'd, but bought certain shame, +Your Sexes curse, foul falshood must and shall, +I see, once in your lives, light on you all. +I hate thee now: yet turn. + +_Clor_. Be just to me: +Shall I at once both lose my fame and thee? + +_The_. Thou hadst no fame, that which thou didst like good, +Was but thy appetite that sway'd thy blood +For that time to the best: for as a blast +That through a house comes, usually doth cast +Things out of order, yet by chance may come, +And blow some one thing to his proper room; +So did thy appetite, and not thy zeal, +Sway thee [by] chance to doe some one thing well. +Yet turn. + +_Clor_. Thou dost but try me if I would +Forsake thy dear imbraces, for my old +Love's, though he were alive: but do not fear. + +_The_. I do contemn thee now, and dare come near, +And gaze upon thee; for me thinks that grace, +Austeritie, which sate upon that face +Is gone, and thou like others: false maid see, +This is the gain of foul inconstancie. [_Exit_. + +_Clor_. 'Tis done, great _Pan_ I give thee thanks for it, +What art could not have heal'd, is cur'd by wit. + +_Enter_ Thenot, _again_. + +_The_. Will ye be constant yet? will ye remove +Into the Cabin to your buried Love? + +_Clor_. No let me die, but by thy side remain. + +_The_. There's none shall know that thou didst ever stain +Thy worthy strictness, but shall honour'd be, +And I will lye again under this tree, +And pine and dye for thee with more delight, +Than I have sorrow now to know the light. + +_Clor_. Let me have thee, and I'le be where thou wilt. + +_The_. Thou art of womens race, and full of guilt. +Farewel all hope of that Sex, whilst I thought +There was one good, I fear'd to find one naught: +But since their minds I all alike espie, +Henceforth I'le choose as others, by mine eye. + +_Clor_. Blest be ye powers that give such quick redress, +And for my labours sent so good success. +I rather choose, though I a woman be, +He should speak ill of all, than die for me. + + + + +_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima_. + + +_Enter_ Priest, _and old_ Shepherd. + +_Priest_. Shepherds, rise and shake off sleep, +See the blushing Morn doth peep +Through the window, whilst the Sun +To the mountain tops is run, +Gilding all the Vales below +With his rising flames, which grow +Greater by his climbing still. +Up ye lazie grooms, and fill +Bagg and Bottle for the field; +Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield +To the bitter North-east wind. +Call the Maidens up, and find +Who lay longest, that she may +Goe without a friend all day; +Then reward your Dogs, and pray +_Pan_ to keep you from decay: +So unfold and then away. +What not a Shepherd stirring? sure the grooms +Have found their beds too easie, or the rooms +Fill'd with such new delight, and heat, that they +Have both forgot their hungry sheep, and day; +Knock, that they may remember what a shame +Sloath and neglect layes on a Shepherds name. + +_Old Shep_. It is to little purpose, not a swain +This night hath known his lodging here, or lain +Within these cotes: the woods, or some near town, +That is a neighbour to the bordering Down, +Hath drawn them thither, 'bout some lustie sport, +Or spiced Wassel-Boul, to which resort +All the young men and maids of many a cote, +Whilst the trim Minstrel strikes his merry note. + +_Priest_. God pardon sin, show me the way that leads +To any of their haunts. + +_Old Shep_. This to the meads, +And that down to the woods. + +_Priest_. Then this for me; +Come Shepherd let me crave your companie. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Clorin, _in her Cabin_, Alexis, _with her_. + +_Clor_. Now your thoughts are almost pure, +And your wound begins to cure: +Strive to banish all that's vain, +Lest it should break out again. + +_Alex_. Eternal thanks to thee, thou holy maid: +I find my former wandring thoughts well staid +Through thy wise precepts, and my outward pain +By thy choice herbs is almost gone again: +Thy sexes vice and vertue are reveal'd +At once, for what one hurt, another heal'd. + +_Clor_. May thy grief more appease, +Relapses are the worst disease. +Take heed how you in thought offend, +So mind and body both will mend. + +_Enter_ Satyr, _with_ Amoret. + +_Amo_. Beest thou the wildest creature of the wood, +That bearst me thus away, drown'd in my blood, +And dying, know I cannot injur'd be, +I am a maid, let that name fight for me. + +_Satyr_. Fairest Virgin do not fear +Me, that do thy body bear, +Not to hurt, but heal'd to be; +Men are ruder far than we. +See fair _Goddess_ in the wood, +They have let out yet more blood. +Some savage man hath struck her breast +So soft and white, that no wild beast +Durst ha' toucht asleep, or wake: +So sweet, that _Adder, Newte_, or _Snake_, +Would have lain from arm to arm, +On her bosom to be warm +All a night, and being hot, +Gone away and stung her not. +Quickly clap herbs to her breast; +A man sure is a kind of beast. + +_Clor_. With spotless hand, on spotless brest +I put these herbs to give thee rest: +Which till it heal thee, will abide, +If both be pure, if not, off slide. +See it falls off from the wound, +Shepherdess thou art not sound, +Full of lust. + +_Satyr_, Who would have thought it, +So fair a face? + +_Clor_. Why that hath brought it. + +_Amo_. For ought I know or think, these words, my last: +Yet _Pan_ so help me as my thoughts are chast. + +_Clor_. And so may _Pan_ bless this my cure, +As all my thoughts are just and pure; +Some uncleanness nigh doth lurk, +That will not let my Medicines work. +_Satyr_ search if thou canst find it. + +_Satyr_. Here away methinks I wind it, +Stronger yet: Oh here they be, +Here, here, in a hollow tree, +Two fond mortals have I found. + +_Clor_. Bring them out, they are unsound. + +_Enter_ Cloe, _and_ Daphnis. + +_Satyr_. By the fingers thus I wring ye, +To my _Goddess_ thus I bring ye; +Strife is vain, come gently in, +I scented them, they're full of sin. + +_Clor_. Hold _Satyr_, take this Glass, +Sprinkle over all the place, +Purge the Air from lustfull breath, +To save this Shepherdess from death, +And stand you still whilst I do dress +Her wound for fear the pain encrease. + +_Sat_. From this glass I throw a drop +Of Crystal water on the top +Of every grass, on flowers a pair: +Send a fume and keep the air +Pure and wholsom, sweet and blest, +Till this Virgins wound be drest. + +_Clor. Satyr_, help to bring her in. + +_Sat_. By _Pan_, I think she hath no sin, +She is so light: lye on these leaves. +Sleep that mortal sense deceives, +Crown thine Eyes, and ease thy pain, +Maist thou soon be well again. + +_Clor. Satyr_, bring the Shepherd near, +Try him if his mind be clear. + +_Sat_. Shepherd come. + +_Daph_. My thoughts are pure. + +_Sat_. The better trial to endure. + +_Clor_. In this flame his finger thrust, +Which will burn him if he lust; +But if not, away will turn, +As loth unspotted flesh to burn: +See, it gives back, let him go, +Farewel mortal, keep thee so. + +_Sat_. Stay fair _Nymph_, flye not so fast, +We must try if you be chaste: +Here's a hand that quakes for fear, +Sure she will not prove so clear. + +_Clor._ Hold her finger to the flame, +That will yield her praise or shame. + +_Sat._ To her doom she dares not stand, +But plucks away her tender hand, +And the Taper darting sends +His hot beams at her fingers ends: +O thou art foul within, and hast +A mind, if nothing else, unchaste. + +_Alex._ Is not that _Cloe?_ 'tis my Love, 'tis she! +_Cloe_, fair _Cloe_. + +_Clo._ My Alexis. + +_Alex._ He. + +_Clo._ Let me embrace thee. + +_Clor._ Take her hence, +Lest her sight disturb his sence. + +_Alex._ Take not her, take my life first. + +_Clor._ See, his wound again is burst: +Keep her near, here in the Wood, +Till I ha' stopt these Streams of Blood. +Soon again he ease shall find, +If I can but still his mind: +This Curtain thus I do display, +To keep the piercing air away. + +_Enter_ old Shepherd, _and_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Sure they are lost for ever; 'tis in vain +To find 'em out with trouble and much pain, +That have a ripe desire, and forward will +To flye the Company of all but ill, +What shall be counsel'd now? shall we retire? +Or constant follow still that first desire +We had to find them? + +_Old_. Stay a little while; +For if the Morning mist do not beguile +My sight with shadows, sure I see a Swain; +One of this jolly Troop's come back again. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_Pri._ Dost thou not blush young Shepherd to be known, +Thus without care, leaving thy flocks alone, +And following what desire and present blood +Shapes out before thy burning sense, for good, +Having forgot what tongue hereafter may +Tell to the World thy falling off, and say +Thou art regardless both of good and shame, +Spurning at Vertue, and a vertuous Name, +And like a glorious, desperate man that buys +A poyson of much price, by which he dies, +Dost thou lay out for Lust, whose only gain +Is foul disease, with present age and pain, +And then a Grave? These be the fruits that grow +In such hot Veins that only beat to know +Where they may take most ease, and grow ambitious +Through their own wanton fire, and pride delicious. + +_The_. Right holy Sir, I have not known this night, +What the smooth face of Mirth was, or the sight +Of any looseness; musick, joy, and ease, +Have been to me as bitter drugs to please +A Stomach lost with weakness, not a game +That I am skill'd at throughly; nor a Dame, +Went her tongue smoother than the feet of Time, +Her beauty ever living like the Rime +Our blessed _Tityrus_ did sing of yore, +No, were she more enticing than the store +Of fruitful Summer, when the loaden Tree +Bids the faint Traveller be bold and free, +'Twere but to me like thunder 'gainst the bay, +Whose lightning may enclose but never stay +Upon his charmed branches; such am I +Against the catching flames of Womans eye. + +_Priest_. Then wherefore hast thou wandred? + +_The_. 'Twas a Vow +That drew me out last night, which I have now +Strictly perform'd, and homewards go to give +Fresh pasture to my Sheep, that they may live. + +_Pri_. 'Tis good to hear ye, Shepherd, if the heart +In this well sounding Musick bear his part. +Where have you left the rest? + +_The_. I have not seen, +Since yesternight we met upon this green +To fold our Flocks up, any of that train; +Yet have I walkt these Woods round, and have lain +All this same night under an aged Tree, +Yet neither wandring Shepherd did I see, +Or Shepherdess, or drew into mine ear +The sound of living thing, unless it were +The Nightingale among the thick leav'd spring +That sits alone in sorrow, and doth sing +Whole nights away in mourning, or the Owl, +Or our great enemy that still doth howl +Against the Moons cold beams. + +_Priest_. Go and beware +Of after falling. + +_The_. Father 'tis my care. [_Exit_ Thenot. + +_Enter_ Daphnis. + +_Old_. Here comes another Stragler, sure I see +A Shame in this young Shepherd. _Daphnis_! + +_Daph_. He. + +_Pri_. Where hast thou left the rest, that should have been +Long before this, grazing upon the green +Their yet imprison'd flocks? + +_Daph_. Thou holy man, +Give me a little breathing till I can +Be able to unfold what I have seen; +Such horrour that the like hath never been +Known to the ear of Shepherd: Oh my heart +Labours a double motion to impart +So heavy tidings! You all know the Bower +Where the chast _Clorin_ lives, by whose great power +Sick men and Cattel have been often cur'd, +There lovely _Amoret_ that was assur'd +To lusty _Perigot_, bleeds out her life, +Forc'd by some Iron hand and fatal knife; +And by her young _Alexis_. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis _running from her_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Amar_. If there be +Ever a Neighbour Brook, or hollow tree, +Receive my Body, close me up from lust +That follows at my heels; be ever just, +Thou god of Shepherds, _Pan_, for her dear sake +That loves the Rivers brinks, and still doth shake +In cold remembrance of thy quick pursuit: +Let me be made a reed, and ever mute, +Nod to the waters fall, whilst every blast +Sings through my slender leaves that I was chast. + +_Pri_. This is a night of wonder, _Amaryll_ +Be comforted, the holy gods are still +Revengers of these wrongs. + +_Amar_. Thou blessed man, +Honour'd upon these plains, and lov'd of _Pan_, +Hear me, and save from endless infamie +My yet unblasted Flower, _Virginitie_: +By all the Garlands that have crown'd that head, +By the chaste office, and the Marriage bed +That still is blest by thee, by all the rights +Due to our gods; and by those Virgin lights +That burn before his Altar, let me not +Fall from my former state to gain the blot +That never shall be purg'd: I am not now +That wanton _Amaryllis_: here I vow +To Heaven, and thee grave Father, if I may +'Scape this unhappy Night, to know the Day, +To live a Virgin, never to endure +The tongues, or Company of men impure. +I hear him come, save me. + +_Pri_. Retire a while +Behind this Bush, till we have known that vile +Abuser of young Maidens. + +_Enter_ Sullen. + +_Sul_. Stay thy pace, +Most loved _Amaryllis_, let the Chase +Grow calm and milder, flye me not so fast, +I fear the pointed Brambles have unlac'd +Thy golden Buskins; turn again and see +Thy Shepherd follow, that is strong and free, +Able to give thee all content and ease. +I am not bashful, Virgin, I can please +At first encounter, hug thee in mine arm, +And give thee many Kisses, soft and warm +As those the Sun prints on the smiling Cheek +Of Plums, or mellow Peaches; I am sleek +And smooth as _Neptune_, when stern _Eolus_ +Locks up his surly Winds, and nimbly thus +Can shew my active Youth; why dost thou flye? +Remember _Amaryllis_, it was I +That kill'd _Alexis_ for thy sake, and set +An everlasting hate 'twixt _Amoret_ +And her beloved _Perigot_: 'twas I +That drown'd her in the Well, where she must lye +Till Time shall leave to be; then turn again, +Turn with thy open arms, and clip the Swain +That hath perform'd all this, turn, turn I say: +I must not be deluded. + +_Pri_. Monster stay, +Thou that art like a Canker to the State +Thou liv'st and breath'st in, eating with debate +Through every honest bosome, forcing still +The Veins of any that may serve thy Will, +Thou that hast offer'd with a sinful hand +To seize upon this Virgin that doth stand +Yet trembling here. + +_Sull_. Good holiness declare, +What had the danger been, if being bare +I had embrac'd her, tell me by your Art, +What coming wonders would that sight impart? + +_Pri_. Lust, and a branded Soul. + +_Sull_. Yet tell me more, +Hath not our Mother Nature for her store +And great encrease, said it is good and just, +And wills that every living Creature must +Beget his like? + +_Pri_. Ye are better read than I, +I must confess, in blood and Lechery. +Now to the Bower, and bring this Beast along, +Where he may suffer Penance for his wrong. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Perigot _with his hands bloody_. + +_Per_. Here will I wash it in this mornings dew, +Which she on every little grass doth strew +In silver drops against the Sun's appear: +'Tis holy water, and will make me clear. +My hands will not be cleans'd. My wronged Love, +If thy chaste spirit in the air yet move, +Look mildly down on him that yet doth stand +All full of guilt, thy blood upon his hand, +And though I struck thee undeservedly, +Let my revenge on her that injur'd thee +Make less a fault which I intended not, +And let these dew drops wash away my spot. +It will not cleanse. O to what sacred Flood +Shall I resort to wash away this blood? +Amid'st these Trees the holy _Clorin_ dwells +In a low Cabin of cut Boughs, and heals +All Wounds; to her I will my self address, +And my rash faults repentantly confess; +Perhaps she'll find a means by Art or Prayer, +To make my hand with chaste blood stained, fair: +That done, not far hence underneath some Tree, +I'll have a little Cabin built, since she +Whom I ador'd is dead, there will I give +My self to strictness, and like _Clorin_ live. [_Exit_. + +_The Curtain is drawn_, Clorin _appears sitting in the Cabin,_ Amoret +_sitting on the one side of her_, Alexis _and_ Cloe _on the other, the_ +Satyr _standing by._ + +_Clo_. Shepherd, once more your blood is staid, +Take example by this Maid, +Who is heal'd ere you be pure, +So hard it is lewd lust to cure. +Take heed then how you turn your eye +On each other lustfully: +And Shepherdess take heed lest you +Move his willing eye thereto; +Let no wring, nor pinch, nor smile +Of yours his weaker sense beguile. +Is your Love yet true and chaste, +And for ever so to last? + +_Alex_. I have forgot all vain desires, +All looser thoughts, ill tempred fires, +True Love I find a pleasant fume, +Whose moderate heat can ne'r consume. + +_Clo_. And I a new fire feel in me, +Whose chaste flame is not quencht to be. + +_Clor_. Join your hands with modest touch, +And for ever keep you such. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per_. Yon is her Cabin, thus far off I'll stand, +And call her forth; for my unhallowed hand +I dare not bring so near yon sacred place. +_Clorin_ come forth, and do a timely grace +To a poor Swain. + +_Clo_. What art thou that dost call? +_Clorin_ is ready to do good to all: +Come near. + +_Peri_. I dare not. + +_Clor. Satyr_, see +Who it is that calls on me. + +_Sat_. There at hand, some Swain doth stand, +Stretching out a bloudy hand. + +_Peri_. Come _Clorin_, bring thy holy waters clear, +To wash my hand. + +_Clo_. What wonders have been here +To night? stretch forth thy hand young Swain, +Wash and rub it whilest I rain +Holy water. + +_Peri_. Still you pour, +But my hand will never scower. + +_Clor. Satyr_, bring him to the Bower, +We will try the Soveraign power +Of other waters. + +_Satyr_. Mortal, sure +'Tis the Blood of Maiden pure +That stains thee so. + +[_The_ Satyr _leadeth him to the Bower, where he spieth_ Amoret, _and +kneeling down, she knoweth him_. + +_Peri_. What e're thou be, +Be'st thou her spright, or some divinitie, +That in her shape thinks good to walk this grove, +Pardon poor _Perigot_. + +_Amor_. I am thy love, +Thy _Amoret_, for evermore thy love: +Strike once more on my naked breast, I'le prove +As constant still. O couldst thou love me yet; +How soon should I my former griefs forget! + +_Peri_. So over-great with joy, that you live, now +I am, that no desire of knowing how +Doth seize me; hast thou still power to forgive? + +_Amo_. Whilest thou hast power to love, or I to live; +More welcome now than hadst thou never gone +Astray from me. + +_Peri_. And when thou lov'st alone +And not I, death, or some lingring pain +That's worse, light on me. + +_Clor_. Now your stain +This perhaps will cleanse again; +See the blood that erst did stay, +With the water drops away. +All the powers again are pleas'd, +And with this new knot appeas'd. +Joyn your hands, and rise together, +_Pan_ be blest that brought you hither. + +_Enter_ Priest, _and_ Old Shephe[rd]. + +_Clor_. Go back again what ere thou art, unless +Smooth Maiden thoughts possess thee, do not press +This hallowed ground. Go _Satyr_, take his hand, +And give him present trial. + +_Satyr_. Mortal stand, +Till by fire I have made known +Whether thou be such a one, +That mayst freely tread this place. +Hold thy hand up; never was +More untainted flesh than this. +Fairest, he is full of bliss. + +_Clor_. Then boldly speak, why dost thou seek this place? + +_Priest_. First, honour'd Virgin, to behold thy face +Where all good dwells that is: Next for to try +The truth of late report was given to me: +Those Shepherds that have met with foul mischance, +Through much neglect, and more ill governance, +Whether the wounds they have may yet endure +The open Air, or stay a longer cure. +And lastly, what the doom may be shall light +Upon those guilty wretches, through whose spight +All this confusion fell: For to this place, +Thou holy Maiden, have I brought the race +Of these offenders, who have freely told, +Both why, and by what means they gave this bold +Attempt upon their lives. + +_Clor_. Fume all the ground, +And sprinkle holy water, for unsound +And foul infection 'gins to fill the Air: +It gathers yet more strongly; take a pair +Of Censors fill'd with Frankincense and Mirrh, +Together with cold Camphyre: quickly stir +Thee, gentle _Satyr_, for the place begins +To sweat and labour with the abhorred sins +Of those offenders; let them not come nigh, +For full of itching flame and leprosie +Their very souls are, that the ground goes back, +And shrinks to feel the sullen weight of black +And so unheard of venome; hie thee fast +Thou holy man, and banish from the chast +These manlike monsters, let them never more +Be known upon these downs, but long before +The next Suns rising, put them from the sight +And memory of every honest wight. +Be quick in expedition, lest the sores +Of these weak Patients break into new gores. [_Ex_. Priest. + +_Per_. My dear, dear _Amoret_, how happy are +Those blessed pairs, in whom a little jar +Hath bred an everlasting love, too strong +For time, or steel, or envy to do wrong? +How do you feel your hurts? Alas poor heart, +How much I was abus'd; give me the smart +For it is justly mine. + +_Amo_. I do believe. +It is enough dear friend, leave off to grieve, +And let us once more in despight of ill +Give hands and hearts again. + +_Per_. With better will +Than e're I went to find in hottest day +Cool Crystal of the Fountain, to allay +My eager thirst: may this band never break. +Hear us O Heaven. + +_Amo_. Be constant. + +_Per_. Else _Pan_ wreak, +With [d]ouble vengeance, my disloyalty; +Let me not dare to know the company +Of men, or any more behold those eyes. + +_Amo_. Thus Shepherd with a kiss all envy dyes. + +_Enter_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Bright Maid, I have perform'd your will, the Swain +In whom such heat and black rebellions raign +Hath undergone your sentence, and disgrace: +Only the Maid I have reserv'd, whose face +Shews much amendment, many a tear doth fall +In sorrow of her fault, great fair recal +Your heavy doom, in hope of better daies, +Which I dare promise; once again upraise +Her heavy Spirit that near drowned lyes +In self consuming care that never dyes. + +_Clor_. I am content to pardon, call her in; +The Air grows cool again, and doth begin +To purge it self, how bright the day doth show +After this stormy Cloud! go _Satyr_, go, +And with this Taper boldly try her hand, +If she be pure and good, and firmly stand +To be so still, we have perform'd a work +Worthy the Gods themselves. [_Satyr brings_ Amaryllis _in_. + +_Satyr_. Come forward Maiden, do not lurk +Nor hide your face with grief and shame, +Now or never get a name +That may raise thee, and recure +All thy life that was impure: +Hold your hand unto the flame, +If thou beest a perfect dame, +Or hast truely vow'd to mend, +This pale fire will be thy friend. +See the Taper hurts her not. +Go thy wayes, let never spot +Henceforth seize upon thy blood. +Thank the Gods and still be good. + +_Clor_. Young Shepherdess now ye are brought again +To Virgin state, be so, and so remain +To thy last day, unless the faithful love +Of some good Shepherd force thee to remove; +Th[e]n labour to be true to him, and live +As such a one, that ever strives to give +A blessed memory to after time. +Be famous for your good, not for your crime. +Now holy man, I offer up again +These patients full of health, and free from pain: +Keep them from after ills, be ever near +Unto their actions, teach them how to clear +The tedious way they pass through, from suspect, +Keep them from wronging others, or neglect +Of duty in themselves, correct the bloud +With thrifty bits and labour, let the floud, +Or the next neighbouring spring give remedy +To greedy thirst, and travel not the tree +That hangs with wanton clusters, [let] not wine, +Unless in sacrifice, or rites divine, +Be ever known of Shepherd, have a care +Thou man of holy life. Now do not spare +Their faults through much remissness, nor forget +To cherish him, whose many pains and swet +Hath giv'n increase, and added to the downs. +Sort all your Shepherds from the lazy clowns +That feed their Heifers in the budded Brooms: +Teach the young Maidens strictness, that the grooms +May ever fear to tempt their blowing youth; +Banish all complements, but single truth +From every tongue, and every Shepherds heart, +Let them still use perswading, but no Art: +Thus holy _Priest_, I wish to thee and these, +All the best goods and comforts that may please. + +_Alex_. And all those blessings Heaven did ever give, +We pray upon this Bower may ever live. + +_Priest_. Kneel every Shepherd, whilest with powerful hand +I bless your after labours, and the Land +You feed your flocks upon. Great _Pan_ defend you +From misfortune, and amend you, +Keep you from those dangers still, +That are followed by your will, +Give ye means to know at length +All your riches, all your strength, +Cannot keep your foot from falling +To lewd lust, that still is calling +At your Cottage, till his power +Bring again that golden hour +Of peace and rest to every soul. +May his care of you controul +All diseases, sores or pain +That in after time may raign +Either in your flocks or you, +Give ye all affections new, +New desires, and tempers new, +That ye may be ever true. +Now rise and go, and as ye pass away +Sing to the God of Sheep, that happy lay, +That honest _Dorus_ taught ye, _Dorus_, he +That was the soul and god of melodie. + +The SONG. [_They all Sing + +All ye woods, and trees and bowers, +All you vertues and ye powers +That inhabit in the lakes, +In the pleasant springs or brakes, + Move your feet + To our sound, + Whilest we greet + All this ground, +With his honour and his name +That defends our flocks from blame. + +He is great, and he is Just, +He is ever good, and must +Thus be honour'd: Daffodillies, +Roses, Pinks, and loved Lillies, + Let us fling, + Whilest we sing, + Ever holy, + Ever holy, +Ever honoured ever young, +Thus great_ Pan _is ever sung. [Exeunt. + +Satyr._ Thou divinest, fairest, brightest, +Thou m[o]st powerful Maid, and whitest, +Thou most vertuous and most blessed, +Eyes of stars, and golden tressed +Like _Apollo_, tell me sweetest +What new service now is meetest +For the _Satyr_? shall I stray +In the middle Air, and stay +The sayling Rack, or nimbly take +Hold by the Moon, and gently make +Sute to the pale Queen of night +For a beam to give thee light? +Shall I dive into the Sea, +And bring thee Coral, making way +Through the rising waves that fall +In snowie fleeces; dearest, shall +I catch the wanton Fawns, or Flyes, +Whose woven wings the Summer dyes +Of many colours? get thee fruit? +Or steal from Heaven old _Orpheus_ Lute? +All these I'le venture for, and more, +To do her service all these woods adore. + +_Clor_. No other service, _Satyr_, but thy watch +About these thickets, lest harmless people catch +Mischief or sad mischance. + +_Satyr_. Holy Virgin, I will dance +Round about these woods as quick +As the breaking light, and prick +Down the Lawns, and down the vails +Faster than the Wind-mill sails. +So I take my leave, and pray +All the comforts of the day, +Such as _Phoebus_ heat doth send +On the earth, may still befriend +Thee, and this arbour. + +_Clo_. And to thee, +All thy Masters love be free. [_Exeunt_. + + + + + +_To my Friend Master_ JOHN FLETCHER _upon his Faithfull Shepherdess._ + +_I know too well, that, no more than the man +That travels through the burning Desarts, can +When he is beaten with the raging Sun, +Half smothered in the dust, have power to run +From a cool River, which himself doth find, +E're he be slacked; no more can he whose mind +Joyes in the Muses, hold from that delight, +When nature, and his full thoughts bid him write: +Yet wish I those whom I for friends have known, +To sing their thoughts to no ears but their own. +Why should the man, whose wit ne'r had a stain, +Upon the publick Stage present his [vein,] +And make a thousand men in judgment sit, +To call in question his undoubted wit, +Scarce two of which can understand the laws +Which they should judge by, nor the parties cause? +Among the rout there is not one that hath +In his own censure an explicite faith; +One company knowing they judgement lack, +Ground their belief on the next man in black: +Others, on him that makes signs, and is mute, +Some like as he does in the fairest sute, +He as his Mistress doth, and she by chance: +Nor want there those, who as the Boy doth dance +Between the Acts, will censure the whole Play; +Some if the Wax-lights be not new that day; +But multitudes there are whose judgement goes +Headlong according to the Actors cloathes. +For this, these publick things and I, agree +So ill, that but to do a right for thee, +I had not been perswaded to have hurl'd +These few, ill spoken lines, into the world, +Both to be read, and censur'd of, by those, +Whose very reading makes Verse senseless Prose: +Such as must spend above an hour, to spell +A Challenge on a Past, to know it well: +But since it was thy hap to throw away +Much wit, for which the people did not pay, +Because they saw it not, I not dislike +This second publication, which may strike +Their consciences, to see the thing they scorn'd, +To be with so much wit and Art adorned. +Besides one vantage more in this I see, +Tour censurers now must have the qualitie +Of reading, which I am afraid is more +Than half your shrewdest Judges had before._ + +Fr. Beaumont. + + + + +_To the worthy Author_ M'r. Jo. FLETCHER. + +_The wise, and many headed_ Bench, _that sits +Upon the Life, and Death of_ Playes, _and_ Wits, +(_Composed of_ Gamester, Captain, Knight, Knight's man, +Lady, _or_ Pusill, _that wears mask or fan_, +Velvet, _or_ Taffata _cap, rank'd in the dark +With the shops_ Foreman, _or some such_ brave spark, +_That may judge for his_ six-pence_) had, before +They saw it half, damn'd thy whole Play, and more, +Their motives were, since it had not to doe +With vices, which they look'd for, and came to. + +I, that am glad, thy Innocence was thy Guilt, +And wish that all the_ Muses _blood were spilt +In such a_ Martyrdome, _to vex their eyes, +Do crown thy murdred_ Poeme: _which shall rise +A glorified work to Time, when Fire, +Or mothes shall eat, what all these Fools admire._ + + +BEN. JONSON. + + + + +This Dialogue newly added, was spoken by way of Prologue to both their +Majesties, at the first acting of this Pastoral at _Somerset-house_ on +Twelfth-night, 1633. + +Priest. + +_A broiling Lamb on_ Pans _chief Altar lies, +My Wreath, my Censor, Virge, and Incense by: +But I delayed the pretious Sacrifice, +To shew thee here, a Gentle Deity._ + +Nymph. + +_Nor was I to thy sacred Summons slow, +Hither I came as swift as th' Eagles wing, +Or threatning shaft from vext_ Dianaes _bow, +To see this Islands God; the worlds best King._ + +Priest. + +_Bless then that Queen, that doth his eyes invite +And ears, t'obey her Scepter, half this night._ + +Nymph. + +_Let's sing such welcomes, as shall make Her sway +Seem easie to Him, though it last till day. + +Welcom as Peace t'unwalled Cities, when +Famine and Sword leave them more graves than men. +As Spring to Birds, or Noon-dayes Sun to th' old +Poor mountain Muscovite congeal'd with cold. +As Shore toth' Pilot in a safe known Coast +When's Card is broken and his Rudder lost. + + + + +APPENDIX + + + +p. 369, +l. 2. C] Antiochus +l. 10. C _omits_] have. +l. 12. C _omits] Princes. B _misprints] Prnices. +l. 17. C _gives this line to_ Sel. +l. 35. A] Cel. +l. 40. C] I once more next [_instead of_ beg it thus]. + +p. 370, +l. 9. C] sound. +l. 10. C] beat through. +l. 16. C _adds_] Finis. C _omits] Prologue _and_ Epilogue. + +p. 371, +l. 1. A] And those. +l. 6. A _omits_] Spoke by the _Lieutenant_. + + + + +THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS. + +(A) The | Faithfull | Shepheardesse. By John Fletcher. | Printed at +London for R. Bonian | and H. Walley, and are to be sold at | the spred +Eagle over against the | great North dore of S. Paules. Undated, but +probably 1609-10. + +(B) The same, with slight differences in the Commendatory Verses and in +one or two other sheets. + +(C) The | Faithfull | Shepheardesse. | By John Fletcher. | The second +Edition, newly corrected. London, | Printed by T.C. for Richard Meighen, +in St Dunstanes Church-yard in Fleet-streete, | 1629. + +(D) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | acted at Somerset | House before the +King and | Queene on Twelfe night | last, 1633. | And divers times since +with great ap-| plause at the Private House in Blacke-| Friers, by his +Majesties Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The third Edition, with +Addition. | London, | Printed by A.M. for Richard Meighen, next | to the +Middle Temple in Fleet-| street. 1634. + +(E) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | Acted at Somerset | House, before +the King and | Queen on Twelf night | last, 1633. | And divers times +since, with great ap- | plause, at the Private House in Black-| Friers, by +his Majesties Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The Fourth Edition. +| London, Printed for Ga. Bedell and Tho. Collins, at the Middle | Temple +Gate in Fleet-street. 1656. + +(F) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | Acted at | Somerset-House, | Before +the King and Queen on Twelfth Night, 1633. | And divers times since, with +great | Applause, at the Private House in | Black-Friers, by his Majesties +| Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The Fifth Edition. | London, | +Printed for G. Bedell and T. Collins, at the Middle | Temple-Gate in +Fleet-street, 1665. + +The verso of the title-page bears the date March 3, 166-4/5. +Licensed, +Roger L'Estrange. + +As neither the Second Folio nor the Quartos print any list of the +Characters it may be as well to give one here. + +Perigot. Old Shepherd. +Thenot Priest of Pan. +Daphnis. God of the River. +Alexis. Satyr. +Sullen Shepherd. Shepherds. +Clorin. Cloe. +Amoret. Shepherdesses. +Amarillis. + +Scene: Thessaly. + +The following Dedicatory Verses were omitted from the Second Folio. + +_To my lov'd friend M. John Fletcher, on his Pastorall_. + +Can my approovement (Sir) be worth your thankes? +Whose unkn[o]wne name and muse (in swathing clowtes) +Is not yet growne to strength, among these rankes +To have a roome and beare off the sharpe flowtes +Of this our pregnant age, that does despise +All innocent verse, that lets alone her vice. + +But I must Justifie what privately, +I censurd to you: my ambition is +(Even by my hopes and love to Poesie) +To live to perfect such a worke, as this, +Clad in such elegant proprietie +Of words, including a mortallitie. + +So sweete and profitable, though each man that heares, +(And learning has enough to clap and hisse) +Arives not too't, so misty it appeares; +And to their fi1med reasons, so amisse: +But let Art looke in truth, she like a mirror, +Reflects [Reflect, C, D] her comfort [consort, D--F], ignorances terror. + +Sits in her owne brow, being made afraid, +Of her unnaturall complexion, +As ougly women (when they are araid +By glasses) loath their true reflection, +Then how can such opinions injure thee, +That tremble, at their owne deformitie? + +Opinion, that great foole, makes fooles of all, +And (once) I feard her till I met a minde +Whose grave instructions philosophical), +Toss'd it [is, F] like dust upon a march strong winde, +He shall for ever my example be, +And his embraced doctrine grow in me. + +His soule (and such commend this) that commaund [commands, D, E, F] +Such art, it should me better satisfie, +Then if the monster clapt his thousand hands, +And drownd the sceane with his confused cry; +And if doubts rise, loe their owne names to cleare 'em +Whilst I am happy but to stand so neere 'em. + +N. F. + +These verses are in A, B, C, D, E and F. In A and B they are signed 'N. +F.,' in C-F they are signed 'Nath. Field.' The above text is that of A. + + + + +To his loving friend M. _Jo. Fletcher_ +concerning his Pastorall, being +both a Poeme and a play: +[concerning...play _omitted in_ D, E, F] + + +There are no suerties (good friend) will be taken +For workes that vulgar-good-name hath forsaken: +A Poeme and a play too! why tis like +A scholler that's a Poet: their names strike +Their pestilence inward, when they take the aire; +And kill out right: one cannot both fates beare. +But, as a Poet thats no scholler, makes +Vulgarity his whiffler, and so takes +with ease, & state through both sides prease +Of Pageant seers: or as schollers please +That are no Poets; more then Poets learnd; +Since their art solely, is by soules discerned; +The others fals [fall, D, E, F] within the common sence +And sheds (like common light) her influence: +So, were your play no Poeme, but a thing +That every Cobler to his patch might sing: +A rout of nifles (like the multitude) +With no one limme [limbe, E, F] of any art indude: +Like would to like, and praise you: but because, +Your poeme onely hath by us applause, +Renews the golden world; and holds through all +The holy lawes of homely pastorall; +Where flowers, and founts, and Nimphs, & semi-Gods, +And all the Graces finde their old abods: +Where forrests flourish but in endlesse verse; +And meddowes, nothing fit for purchasers: +This Iron age that eates it selfe, will never +Bite at your golden world; that others, ever +Lov'd as it selfe: then like your Booke do you +Live in ould peace: and that for praise allow. + +G. Chapman + + + +These lines are in A, C, D, E and F. The text is that of A. + +_To that noble and true lover of learning_, +Sir Walter Aston Knight +_of the Balls_. + +Sir I must aske your patience, and be trew. +This play was never liked, unlesse by few +That brought their judgements with um, for of late +First the infection, then the common prate +Of common people, have such customes got +Either to silence plaies, or like them not. +Under the last of which this interlude, +Had falne for ever prest downe by the rude +That like a torrent which the moist south feedes, +Drowne's both before him the ripe corne and weedes. +Had not the saving sence of better men +Redeem'd it from corruption: (deere Sir then) +Among the better soules, be you the best +In whome, as in a Center I take rest, +And propper being: from whose equall eye +And judgement, nothing growes but puritie: +(Nor do I flatter) for by all those dead, +Great in the muses, by _Apolloes_ head, +He that ads any thing to you; tis done +Like his that lights a candle to the sunne: +Then be as you were ever, your selfe still +Moved by your judement, not by love, or will +And when I sing againe as who can tell +My next devotion to that holy well, +Your goodnesse to the muses shall be all, +Able to make a worke Heroyicall. + +_Given to your service_ +John Fletcher. + + + +These lines are in A and B. + +To the inheritour of all worthines, +_Sir William Scipwith. +Ode._ + +If from servile hope or love, + I may prove +But so happy to be thought for +Such a one whose greatest ease + Is to please +(Worthy sir) I have all I sought for, + +For no ich of greater name, + which some clame +By their verses do I show it +To the world; nor to protest + Tis the best +These are leane faults in a poet + +Nor to make it serve to feed + at my neede +Nor to gaine acquaintance by it +Nor to ravish kinde Atturnies, + in their journies. +Nor to read it after diet + +Farre from me are all these Ames + Fittest frames +To build weakenesse on and pitty +Onely to your selfe, and such + whose true touch +Makes all good; let me seeme witty. + + +_The Admirer of your vertues_, +John Fletcher. + + + +These verses are in A and B. + +_To the perfect gentleman Sir_ +Robert Townesend. + +If the greatest faults may crave +Pardon where contrition is +(Noble Sir) I needes must have +A long one; for a long amisse +If you aske me (how is this) +Upon my faith Ile tell you frankely, +You love above my meanes to thanke yee. +Yet according to my Talent +As sowre fortune loves to use me +A poore Shepheard I have sent, +In home-spun gray for to excuse me. +And may all my hopes refuse me: +But when better comes ashore, +You shall have better, newer, more. +Til when, like our desperate debters, +Or our three pild sweete protesters +I must please you in bare letters +And so pay my debts; like jesters, +Yet I oft have seene good feasters, +Onely for to please the pallet, +Leave great meat and chuse a sallet. + +_All yours_ John Fletcher: + + + + +These lines are in A and B. + +To the Reader. + +If you be not reasonably assurde of your knowledge in this kinde of Poeme, +lay downe the booke or read this, which I would wish had bene the +prologue. It is a pastorall Tragic-comedie, which the people seeing when +it was plaid, having ever had a singuler guift in defining, concluded to +be a play of contry hired Shepheards, in gray cloakes, with curtaild dogs +in strings, sometimes laughing together, and sometimes killing one +another: And misling whitsun ales, creame, wasiel & morris-dances, began +to be angry. In their error I would not have you fall, least you incurre +their censure. Understand therefore a pastorall to be a representation of +shepheards and shephearddesses, with their actions and passions, which +must be such as may agree with their natures at least not exceeding former +fictions, & vulgar traditions: they are not to be adorn'd with any art, +but such improper ones as nature is said to bestow, as singing and Poetry, +or such as experience may teach them, as the vertues of hearbs, & +fountaines: the ordinary course of the Sun, moone, and starres, and +such like. But you are ever to remember Shepherds to be such, as all the +ancient Poets and moderne of understanding have receaved them: that is, +the owners of flockes and not hyerlings. A tragie-comedie is not so called +in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is +inough to make it no tragedie, yet brings some neere it, which is inough +to make it no comedie: which must be a representation of familiar people, +with such kinde of trouble as no life be questiond, so that a God is as +lawfull in this as in a tragedie, and meane people as in a comedie. This +much I hope will serve to justifie my Poeme, and make you understand it, +to teach you more for nothing, I do not know that I am in conscience +bound. + +_John Fletcher_. + + + + +This address is in A and B. + + +Unto his worthy friend Mr _Joseph Taylor_ +upon his presentment of the _Faithfull Sheperdesse +before the King and Queene, at White-hall, on +Twelfth night_ [F _stops here_] _last_. 1633. + + +When this smooth Pastorall was first brought forth, +The Age twas borne in, did not know it's worth. +Since by thy cost, and industry reviv'd, +It hath a new fame, and new birth atchiv'd. +Happy in that shee found in her distresse, +A friend, as faithfull, as her Shepherdesse. +For having cur'd her from her courser rents, +And deckt her new with fresh habiliments, +Thou brought'st her to the Court, and made [mad'st, F] her be +A fitting spectacle for Majestie. +So have I seene a clowded beauty drest +In a rich vesture, shine above the rest. +Yet did it not receive more honour from +The glorious pompe, then thine owne action. +Expect no satisfaction for the same, +Poets can render no reward but Fame. +Yet this Ile prophesie, when thou shall come +Into the confines of _Elysium_ +Amidst the Quire of Muses, and the lists +Of famous Actors, and quicke Dramatists, +So much admir'd for gesture, and for wit, +That there on Seats of living Marble sit, +The blessed Consort of that numerous Traine, +Shall rise with an applause to [and, E and F] entertaine +Thy happy welcome, causing thee sit downe, +And with a Lawrell-wreath thy temples crowne. +And mean time, while this Poeme shall be read, +_Taylor_, thy name shall be eternized. +For it is just, that thou, who first did'st give +Unto this booke a life, by it shouldst live. + +Shack. Marmyon. + + +These lines are in D, E and F. The text is that of D. The variations in +the dedicatory verses printed in the Second Folio will be found on p. 523. + +p. 372, +l. 3. A-F] Actus Primi. +l. 13. A and B _omit_] jolly. C _some copies_] merry games. +l. 15. A, B and D] brows be girt. + +p. 373, +l. 6. A and B] That I will I. +l. 19. F _misprints_] fair heap. + +P-375, +l. 12. A and B] these Groves. +l. 17. A and B] mires. A and B _omit_] to find my ruine. +l. 27. A-F _omit_] him. +l. 29. C and D] have gone this. +l. 30. A-F] his rights. +l. 33. 2nd Folio _misprints_] yours. + +p. 376, +l. 10. A-D] livers. + +P. 377, +l. 13. A and B] fall speedily. +l. 14. A-D] let me goe. +l. 21. A-F] seaman. +l. 22. A and B] than the straightest. + +p. 378, +l. 19. A and B] our soules. +l. 40. C] The gentle. + +p. 379, +l. 11. A and B] a wild. +l. 18. A and B] _Enter an other Shepheardesse that is in love with +Perigot_. + +p. 381, +l. 4. 2nd Folio _misprints_] ever. +l. 11. A, B and F] their weaning. +l. 18. A and B] _Enter Sullen._ F] _Enter sullen_ Shepherd. +l. 19. A, B and F _for Shep, (character) read] Sul._ +l. 37. A-C _omit character] Shep_. D-F _print] Sull_. + +p. 382, +l. 8. A-F _for Shep.] Sul_. +l. 25. 2nd Folio] sufficient, great to. +l. 26. F] eye. +l. 28. A and B] has foile enough. +l. 38. A-F] dares. + +p. 383, +l. 5. A-D _omit_] likewise. C] ayre is fresh. +l. 10. A-C] are grown. A-D] Woodbines. +l. 26. A-D] eare of Maid. E and F] eare of maids. +l. 27. C and D] I love. +l. 29. A] so sure a Mold. B-F] so sure the Molde. + +p. 384, +l. 7. A-F] whose words. +l. 13. 2nd Folio] dost, + +p, 385, +l. 2. A-C] hee is here. + +p. 386, +l. 21. A and B] grief and tine. +l. 30. A-C] raine. +l. 35. A-D] swains more meeter. +l. 36. A and B] Than these. +l. 38. A-D] Hide. + +p. 387, +l. 3. A-D] hath been. +l. 7. F] _Titans_. + +p. 388, +l. 3. A-D] lowde falling. +l. 21. A] his walkes keep. +l. 32. F _omits_] great. +l. 34. A] high birth. +l. 36. A] born a most. + +p. 389, +l. 1. A] did lop. +l. 2. A] told me. +l. 6. A] teeth. +l. 8. A _omits_] fast. +l. 14. A] Formentill. +l. 16. A-F] roote. A-D and F] swellings best. +l. 31. A] wanton forces. +l. 39. A] and with joy. + +p. 390, +l. 1. A] Enter Shepheard. +l. 2. A] _Shep_. and so throughout. +l. 10. A] make. +l. 15. A and C] you blessed. +l. 16. A] brightly. +l. 19. A] That stiled is the. +l. 36. A-C] into a stround. + +p. 391, +l. 1. C] eies. +l. 14. C] Thy way. +l. 16. 2nd Folio _misprints_] Chor. +l. 24. A _omits_] Then. (_char_.). +l. 30. A] flame. + +p. 392, +l. 4. A] _Orions_. +l. 5. A-D] woven. +l. 6. A-C] unfould. +l. 7. A] The errant soul. A-D] not the true. +l. 9. A] _Alpen_. +l. 13. A] you do keep. +l. 14. E] that are begotten. +l. 30. A-C] for their. +l. 31. A and B] To seat them. + +p. 393, +l. 3. A-D] Doe, and let. +l. 6. A-C _omit_] that here. D _omits_] that. +l. 9. A-F] mourning. A-F] Ewe. +l. 18. A, B and D] For never did. +l. 21. 2nd Folio _misprints_] then. +l. 23. A-D] Shootes. +l. 26. A and B] And present. +l. 31. 2nd Folio _misprints_] maiden. +l. 35. A-D] highly praise. + +p. 394, +l. 4. C] ne're knit that eye. +l. 17. C] her shame. +l. 30. A-F] As grinnes. +l. 31. A] at Conies, Squirrels. + +P. 395, +l. 1. A-F] stronger way. +l. 26. A and B] dipt over. + +p. 396, +l. 8. A and B _insert before Enter Daphnis_] Actus secundus Scena quarta. +l. 14. A-D] thy Shepherds. +l. 19. A and B] My flame. +l. 34. 2nd Folio _misprints_] blesseds. +l. 35. A-F _insert_ Enter Alexis _after_ l. 36. + +p. 397, +l. 10. A-D] those. +l. 16. A and B] hold her. +l. 20. A-C] though with. + +p. 399, +l. 2. A-F] These rights. +l. 17. A-C] Enter the. +l. 27. C] the feet. + +p. 400, +l. 21. A-C] _She awaketh_. +l. 23. A-F] Magick right. +l. 27. A and B] thus reformd thee. +l. 31. C and D _omit_] that. + +p. 401, +l. 6. A and C] moone beams. +l. 7. A-D and F] true shape. +l. 13. C] your sacred. +l. 24. A, D and F] she hath got. +l. 37. A-F] of Lyon. A and B] or of Bear. + +p. 402, +l. 22. A and B] Ile followe, and for this thy care of me. + C _omits the line_. +l. 27. A-F] with a. + +p. 403, +l. 29. A-E] never thou shalt move. + +p. 404, +l. 33. A and B _read_] _Alex._ Oh! + _Sat._ Speake againe thou mortall wight. +l. 34. A and B _omit_] _Sat._ + +p. 405, +l. 3. A-C] beheld you shaggy. +l. 17. A and B] O stray. +l. 25. A-F] Who I did. +l. 29. A-C] _Enter the_. + +p. 406, +l. 2. A and B] _of a_ Amoret. +l. 3. A and B] But all these. +l. 29. A and B] swear, Beloved _Perigot_. +l. 37. A-D] then that young. + +p. 407, +l. 4. A and B] How should. +l. 11. C] take my _Amoret_. +l. 30. A and B _read_] div'd art, art not. +l. 36. F] still as. +l. 37. C] Though others shows. +l. 38. C] and rest my. + +p. 408, +l. 18. A and B _omit_] _in her own shape_. +l. 26. A and B _omit_] Ama. +l. 28. A and B _add_ Amoret _after_ path. + +p. 409, +l. 17. A-D] _He flings her_. + +p. 410, +l. 4. A and B] locke. +l. 11. F] bank. + +p. 411, +l. 9. A-C] silver string. + +p. 412, +l. 2. E] Leave there gravel. +l. 20. A-F _add_] Exit. +l. 22. A and B _add_] _Finis Actus Tertis_. +l. 23. A and B _omit_] _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ +l. 34. A and B] Perigot _to Enter_. Amaryllis, _running_. + +p. 413, +l. 2. A-F] heavy Clowdes. +l. 18. A-C] of his breath. + +p. 414, +l. 35. A-D] happy bower. + +p. 415, +l. 7. A-F] Will undo his. +l. 10. A-F] holy rights. +l. 11. A-D] the feared. +l. 22. A and B] the Gwomes. +l. 35. A and B] thie wound. C] thy wound. + +p. 416, +l. 20. A--D] Now a gapes. +l. 31. A--F] to this destiny. + +p. 417, +l. 1. A-D] not possible. +l. 2. A and B] all heates, desires. +l. 3. A-F] thoughts. +l. 9. A and B] Playsters. + +p. 418, +l. 1. A and B] To deserve the. +l. 11. A-C] sought it. +l. 13. A-C] or shade. +l. 15. A-C] but I. + +p. 419, +l. 7. A and B] imagination. +l. 26. 2nd Folio _misprints_] thy and. +l. 30. A and B _omit_] _Exit_ Amoret. + +p. 420, +l. 26. A-D] thy lazy. +l. 36. A-D] _looking of_ Perigot. + +p. 421, +l. 2. A and B omit] art. E, F and 2nd Folio] thou darest. +l. 12. A-F] Ribandes. +l. 14. A-C _omit_] the. +l. 17. A and B] those too little. +l. 28. C] a fact so. +l. 30. A and B] Came flowing. C] Come flying. + +p. 422, +l. 10. A and B] men, most. +l. 12. F] thy vows. l. 13. 2nd Folio] help. +l. 17. A-F] till Crosse fate. +l. 26. C] seeks. +l. 30. A and B _omit_] _Per_. + +p. 423, +l. 14. A and B] esteeme. + +p. 424, +l. 11. A and B] denye. +l. 18. C] sent my gloves. +l. 26. A and B] bread. + +p. 425, +l. 1. A-C] light shutts like. +l. 23. A-D] vild. + +p. 426, +l. 5. 2nd Folio] beings. + +p. 427, +l. 10. A-C _omit_] to. +l. 19. A-C] once loose both my. +l. 27. 2nd Folio _misprints_] be. +l. 36. A and B] Inconstance. + +p. 428, +l. 6. A-D] shalt. +l. 9. A-D] know thee light. +l. 16. A-D] that gave such. +l. 19. A and B _add_] _Finis Actus quartus_. +l. 24. A-D] windowes. + +p. 429, +l. 14. A-C] coate. +l. 22. A-D _add_] _and Amarillis_. +l. 31. C] sexes voice and. + +p. 430, +l. 5. A-F] that doth thy. +l. 6. A and B] but held to. +l. 12. A-F] Durst a toucht. +l. 22. A-C] will bide. + +p. 432, +l. 33. A-F] mornings. + +p. 433, +l. 39. A and B _omit_] _The_. + +p. 434, +l. 2. C-F] those. +l. 3. A and B] this long night. C _omits_] same. +l. 5. C] eares. +l. 12. F _omits_] and. +l. 19. A-C _omit_] thou. + +p. 435, +l. 7. F] I am. +l. 16. A-F] thy chaste. +l. 18. A-F] God. +l. 25. A--D _omit_] To live. A-C] never after to. + +p. 436, +l. 3. A and C] thy smiling. +l. 21. A and B] any men may. +l. 29. A-C omit] a. +l. 33. A and B] willd. C] will. +l. 38. A-C _omit_] _Exeunt_. + +p. 437, +l. 1. A-F] hand. +l. 2. A and B] in the mornings. +l. 6. A-F] hand. +l. 34. A-D] On these other. + +p. 438, +l. 7. A-D] Whose base end is. +l. 22. A and B] Thers a hand. C] Thers at hand. +l. 39. A and B] kneeleth. + +p. 439, +l. 7. A-C] Sticke once. +l. 8. A-C] O canst thou. C] leave me. +l. 9. A and C] soon could I. +l. 20. A-D] Perhaps will cleanse thee once again. +l. 24. A-F] are appeas'd. +l. 27. 2nd Folio] Shephered. + +p. 440, +l. 14. A and B] their live. +l. 18. A and B _omit_] take a pair. +l. 23. 2nd Folio] offenders,; + +p. 441, +l. 13. 2nd Folio _misprints_] bouble. +l. 20. A and B _omit_] and disgrace. +l. 35. C] _brings_ Amoret _in_. + +p. 442, +l. 23. A-C] wrong in. +l. 28. 2nd Folio _misprints_] let let. C] wanton lusters. +l. 29. A-F] rights. +l. 30. A-E] Shepheards, +l. 39. A-C] complement. + +p. 443, +l. 1. A-C _omit_] still. +l. 4. A-C _for Alex_.} All. +l. 7. A and B] bless you after. +l. 34. C] or bancks. + +p. 444, +l. 14. 2nd Folio _misprints_] must. +l. 16. C] tresses. +l. 23. A and B] of the night. +l. 24. C] me light. l. 26. A and B] bring the Coral. +l. 33. A and B] I venter. +l. 36. A-C] these Thicks. + +p. 445, +l. 9. 2nd Folio _misprints_] Cle. +l. 10. A-F _add_] Finis. A and B _add also_] _The Pastorall of the +faithfull Shepheardesse._ + +p. 446, +l. 6. A-D] with the. +l. 14. A and C] this vaine. 2nd Folio] vain. +l. 26. A-F] wants. +l. 28. A-C] Some like if. A-D _omit_] not. +l. 29. A-D] judgments. +l. 32. A-C] aright to thee. D] a right to thee. + +p. 447, +l. 8. A and B] much will and. +l. 10. A-C _omit_] now. + +pp. 446-7. The lines by Fr. Beaumont are contained in A-F. + +p. 447. The lines by Ben Jonson are contained in A and C-F. + +p. 448. The Dialogue is contained in D-F. + + + +END OF VOL. II. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Faithful Shepherdess +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12222 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..74de0f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12222 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12222) diff --git a/old/12222.txt b/old/12222.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ea60284 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12222.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4658 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Faithful Shepherdess +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Faithful Shepherdess + The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Vol. 2 of 10). + +Author: Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +Release Date: April 30, 2004 [EBook #12222] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jonathan Ingram, Chjarles M. Bidwell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS + + +The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Vol. 2 of 10) + + + +_Actus Primus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter_ Clorin _a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour._ + +Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbrace +The truest man that ever fed his flocks +By the fat plains of fruitful _Thessaly_, +Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I pay +My early vows, and tribute of mine eyes +To thy still loved ashes; thus I free +My self from all insuing heats and fires +Of love: all sports, delights and jolly games +That Shepherds hold full dear, thus put I off. +Now no more shall these smooth brows be begirt +With youthful Coronals, and lead the Dance; +No more the company of fresh fair Maids +And wanton Shepherds be to me delightful, +Nor the shrill pleasing sound of merry pipes +Under some shady dell, when the cool wind +Plays on the leaves: all be far away, +Since thou art far away; by whose dear side +How often have I sat Crown'd with fresh flowers +For summers Queen, whil'st every Shepherds Boy +Puts on his lusty green, with gaudy hook, +And hanging scrip of finest Cordevan. +But thou art gone, and these are gone with thee, +And all are dead but thy dear memorie; +That shall out-live thee, and shall ever spring +Whilest there are pipes, or jolly Shepherds sing. +And here will I in honour of thy love, +Dwell by thy Grave, forgeting all those joys, +That former times made precious to mine eyes, +Only remembring what my youth did gain +In the dark, hidden vertuous use of Herbs: +That will I practise, and as freely give +All my endeavours, as I gain'd them free. +Of all green wounds I know the remedies +In Men or Cattel, be they stung with Snakes, +Or charm'd with powerful words of wicked Art, +Or be they Love-sick, or through too much heat +Grown wild or Lunatick, their eyes or ears +Thickned with misty filme of dulling Rheum, +These I can Cure, such secret vertue lies +In Herbs applyed by a Virgins hand: +My meat shall be what these wild woods afford, +Berries, and Chesnuts, Plantanes, on whose Cheeks, +The Sun sits smiling, and the lofty fruit +Pull'd from the fair head of the staight grown Pine; +On these I'le feed with free content and rest, +When night shall blind the world, by thy side blest. + +_Enter a_ Satyr. + +_Satyr._ Through yon same bending plain +That flings his arms down to the main, +And through these thick woods have I run, +Whose bottom never kist the Sun +Since the lusty Spring began, +All to please my master _Pan,_ +Have I trotted without rest +To get him Fruit; for at a Feast +He entertains this coming night +His Paramour, the _Syrinx_ bright: +But behold a fairer sight! [_He stands amazed._ +By that Heavenly form of thine, +Brightest fair thou art divine, +Sprung from great immortal race +Of the gods, for in thy face +Shines more awful Majesty, +Than dull weak mortalitie +Dare with misty eyes behold, +And live: therefore on this mold +Lowly do I bend my knee, +In worship of thy Deitie; +Deign it Goddess from my hand, +To receive what e're this land +From her fertil Womb doth send +Of her choice Fruits: and but lend +Belief to that the Satyre tells, +Fairer by the famous wells, +To this present day ne're grew, +Never better nor more true. +Here be Grapes whose lusty bloud +Is the learned Poets good, +Sweeter yet did never crown +The head of _Bacchus_, Nuts more brown +Than the Squirrels Teeth that crack them; +Deign O fairest fair to take them. +For these black ey'd _Driope_ +Hath oftentimes commanded me, +With my clasped knee to clime; +See how well the lusty time +Hath deckt their rising cheeks in red, +Such as on your lips is spred, +Here be Berries for a Queen, +Some be red, some be green, +These are of that luscious meat, +The great God _Pan_ himself doth eat: +All these, and what the woods can yield, +The hanging mountain or the field, +I freely offer, and ere long +Will bring you more, more sweet and strong, +Till when humbly leave I take, +Lest the great _Pan_ do awake, +That sleeping lies in a deep glade, +Under a broad Beeches shade, +I must go, I must run +Swifter than the fiery Sun. [_Exit_. + +_Clo_. And all my fears go with thee. +What greatness or what private hidden power, +Is there in me to draw submission +From this rude man, and beast? sure I am mortal: +The Daughter of a Shepherd, he was mortal: +And she that bore me mortal: prick my hand +And it will bleed: a Feaver shakes me, +And the self same wind that makes the young Lambs shrink, +Makes me a cold: my fear says I am mortal: +Yet I have heard (my Mother told it me) +And now I do believe it, if I keep +My Virgin Flower uncropt, pure, chaste, and fair, +No Goblin, Wood-god, Fairy, Elfe, or Fiend, +Satyr or other power that haunts the Groves, +Shall hurt my body, or by vain illusion +Draw me to wander after idle fires; +Or voyces calling me in dead of night, +To make me follow, and so tole me on +Through mire and standing pools, to find my ruine: +Else why should this rough thing, who never knew +Manners, nor smooth humanity, whose heats +Are rougher than himself, and more mishapen, +Thus mildly kneel to me? sure there is a power +In that great name of Virgin, that binds fast +All rude uncivil bloods, all appetites +That break their confines: then strong Chastity +Be thou my strongest guard, for here I'le dwell +In opposition against Fate and Hell. + +_Enter an old_ Shepherd, _with him four couple of_ Shepherds +_and_ Shepherdesses. + +_Old Shep_. Now we have done this holy Festival +In honour of our great God, and his rites +Perform'd, prepare your selves for chaste +And uncorrupted fires: that as the Priest, +With powerful hand shall sprinkle on [your] Brows +His pure and holy water, ye may be +From all hot flames of lust, and loose thoughts free. +Kneel Shepherds, kneel, here comes the Priest of _Pan_. + +_Enter_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Shepherds, thus I purge away, +Whatsoever this great day, +Or the past hours gave not good, +To corrupt your Maiden blood: +From the high rebellious heat +Of the Grapes, and strength of meat; +From the wanton quick desires, +They do kindle by their fires, +I do wash you with this water, +Be you pure and fair hereafter. +From your Liver and your Veins, +Thus I take away the stains. +All your thoughts be smooth and fair, +Be ye fresh and free as Air. +Never more let lustful heat +Through your purged conduits beat, +Or a plighted troth be broken, +Or a wanton verse be spoken +In a Shepherdesses ear; +Go your wayes, ye are all clear. + [_They rise and sing in praise of_ Pan. + +The SONG. + +_Sing his praises that doth keep + Our Flocks from harm,_ +Pan _the Father of our Sheep, + And arm in arm +Tread we softly in a round, +Whilest the hollow neighbouring ground +Fills the Musick with her sound._ + +Pan, _O great God_ Pan, _to thee + Thus do we sing: +Thou that keep'st us chaste and free + As the young spring, +Ever be thy honour spoke, +From that place the morn is broke, +To that place Day doth unyoke._ + [_Exeunt omnes but_ Perigot _and_ Amoret. + +_Peri_. Stay gentle _Amoret_, thou fair brow'd Maid, +Thy Shepherd prays thee stay, that holds thee dear, +Equal with his souls good. + +_Amo_. Speak; I give +Thee freedom Shepherd, and thy tongue be still +The same it ever was; as free from ill, +As he whose conversation never knew +The Court or City be thou ever true. + +_Peri_. When I fall off from my affection, +Or mingle my clean thoughts with foul desires, +First let our great God cease to keep my flocks, +That being left alone without a guard, +The Wolf, or Winters rage, Summers great heat, +And want of Water, Rots; or what to us +Of ill is yet unknown, full speedily, +And in their general ruine let me feel. + +_Amo_. I pray thee gentle Shepherd wish not so, +I do believe thee: 'tis as hard for me +To think thee false, and harder than for thee +To hold me foul. + +_Peri_. O you are fairer far +Than the chaste blushing morn, or that fair star +That guides the wandring Sea-men through the deep, +Straighter than straightest Pine upon the steep +Head of an aged mountain, and more white +Than the new Milk we strip before day-light +From the full fraighted bags of our fair flocks: +Your hair more beauteous than those hanging locks +Of young _Apollo_. + +_Amo_. Shepherd be not lost, +Y'are sail'd too far already from the Coast +Of our discourse. + +_Peri_. Did you not tell me once +I should not love alone, I should not lose +Those many passions, vows, and holy Oaths, +I've sent to Heaven? did you not give your hand, +Even that fair hand in hostage? Do not then +Give back again those sweets to other men, +You your self vow'd were mine. + +_Amo_. Shepherd, so far as Maidens modesty +May give assurance, I am once more thine, +Once more I give my hand; be ever free +From that great foe to faith, foul jealousie. + +_Peri_. I take it as my best good, and desire +For stronger confirmation of our love, +To meet this happy night in that fair Grove, +Where all true Shepherds have rewarded been +For their long service: say sweet, shall it hold? + +_Amo_. Dear friend, you must not blame me if I make +A doubt of what the silent night may do, +Coupled with this dayes heat to move your bloud: +Maids must be fearful; sure you have not been +Wash'd white enough; for yet I see a stain +Stick in your Liver, go and purge again. + +_Peri_. O do not wrong my honest simple truth, +My self and my affections are as pure +As those chaste flames that burn before the shrine +Of the great _Dian_: only my intent +To draw you thither, was to plight our troths, +With enterchange of mutual chaste embraces, +And ceremonious tying of our selves: +For to that holy wood is consecrate +A vertuous well, about whose flowry banks, +The nimble-footed Fairies dance their rounds, +By the pale moon-shine, dipping oftentimes +Their stolen Children, so to make them free +From dying flesh, and dull mortalitie; +By this fair Fount hath many a Shepherd sworn, +And given away his freedom, many a troth +Been plight, which neither envy, nor old time +Could ever break, with many a chaste kiss given, +In hope of coming happiness; by this +Fresh Fountain many a blushing Maid +Hath crown'd the head of her long loved Shepherd +With gaudy flowers, whilest he happy sung +Layes of his love and dear Captivitie; +There grows all Herbs fit to cool looser flames +Our sensual parts provoke, chiding our bloods, +And quenching by their power those hidden sparks +That else would break out, and provoke our sense +To open fires, so vertuous is that place: +Then gentle Shepherdess, believe and grant, +In troth it fits not with that face to scant +Your faithful Shepherd of those chaste desires +He ever aim'd at, and-- + +_Amo_. Thou hast prevail'd, farewel, this coming night +Shall crown thy chast hopes with long wish'd delight. + +_Peri_. Our great god _Pan_ reward thee for that good +Thou hast given thy poor Shepherd: fairest Bud +Of Maiden Vertues, when I leave to be +The true Admirer of thy Chastitie, +Let me deserve the hot polluted Name +Of the wild Woodman, or affect: some Dame, +Whose often Prostitution hath begot +More foul Diseases, than ever yet the hot +Sun bred through his burnings, whilst the Dog +Pursues the raging Lion, throwing Fog, +And deadly Vapour from his angry Breath, +Filling the lower World with Plague and Death. [_Ex._ Am. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Ama_. Shepherd, may I desire to be believ'd, +What I shall blushing tell? + +_Peri_. Fair Maid, you may. + +_Am_. Then softly thus, I love thee, _Perigot_, +And would be gladder to be lov'd again, +Than the cold Earth is in his frozen arms +To clip the wanton Spring: nay do not start, +Nor wonder that I woo thee, thou that art +The prime of our young Grooms, even the top +Of all our lusty Shepherds! what dull eye +That never was acquainted with desire, +Hath seen thee wrastle, run, or cast the Stone +With nimble strength and fair delivery, +And hath not sparkled fire, and speedily +Sent secret heat to all the neighbouring Veins? +Who ever heard thee sing, that brought again +That freedom back, was lent unto thy Voice; +Then do not blame me (Shepherd) if I be +One to be numbred in this Companie, +Since none that ever saw thee yet, were free. + +_Peri_. Fair Shepherdess, much pity I can lend +To your Complaints: but sure I shall not love: +All that is mine, my self, and my best hopes +Are given already; do not love him then +That cannot love again: on other men +Bestow those heats more free, that may return +You fire for fire, and in one flame equal burn. + +_Ama_. Shall I rewarded be so slenderly +For my affection, most unkind of men! +If I were old, or had agreed with Art +To give another Nature to my Cheeks, +Or were I common Mistress to the love +Of every Swain, or could I with such ease +Call back my Love, as many a Wanton doth; +Thou might'st refuse me, Shepherd; but to thee +I am only fixt and set, let it not be +A Sport, thou gentle Shepherd to abuse +The love of silly Maid. + +_Peri_. Fair Soul, ye use +These words to little end: for know, I may +Better call back that time was Yesterday, +Or stay the coming Night, than bring my Love +Home to my self again, or recreant prove. +I will no longer hold you with delays, +This present night I have appointed been +To meet that chaste Fair (that enjoys my Soul) +In yonder Grove, there to make up our Loves. +Be not deceiv'd no longer, chuse again, +These neighbouring Plains have many a comely Swain, +Fresher, and freer far than I e'r was, +Bestow that love on them, and let me pass. +Farewel, be happy in a better Choice. [_Exit_. + +_Ama_. Cruel, thou hast struck me deader with thy Voice +Than if the angry Heavens with their quick flames +Had shot me through: I must not leave to love, +I cannot, no I must enjoy thee, Boy, +Though the great dangers 'twixt my hopes and that +Be infinite: there is a Shepherd dwells +Down by the Moor, whose life hath ever shown +More sullen Discontent than _Saturns_ Brow, +When he sits frowning on the Births of Men: +One that doth wear himself away in loneness; +And never joys unless it be in breaking +The holy plighted troths of mutual Souls: +One that lusts after [every] several Beauty, +But never yet was known to love or like, +Were the face fairer, or more full of truth, +Than _Phoebe_ in her fulness, or the youth +Of smooth _Lyaeus_; whose nigh starved flocks +Are always scabby, and infect all Sheep +They feed withal; whose Lambs are ever last, +And dye before their waining, and whose Dog +Looks like his Master, lean, and full of scurf, +Not caring for the Pipe or Whistle: this man may +(If he be well wrought) do a deed of wonder, +Forcing me passage to my long desires: +And here he comes, as fitly to my purpose, +As my quick thoughts could wish for. + +_Enter_ Shepherd. + +_Shep_. Fresh Beauty, let me not be thought uncivil, +Thus to be Partner of your loneness: 'twas +My Love (that ever working passion) drew +Me to this place to seek some remedy +For my sick Soul: be not unkind and fair, +For such the mighty Cupid in his doom +Hath sworn to be aveng'd on; then give room +To my consuming Fires, that so I may +Enjoy my long Desires, and so allay +Those flames that else would burn my life away. + +_Ama_. Shepherd, were I but sure thy heart were sound +As thy words seem to be, means might be found +To cure thee of thy long pains; for to me +That heavy youth-consuming Miserie +The love-sick Soul endures, never was pleasing; +I could be well content with the quick easing +Of thee, and thy hot fires, might it procure +Thy faith and farther service to be sure. + +_Shep_. Name but that great work, danger, or what can +Be compass'd by the Wit or Art of Man, +And if I fail in my performance, may +I never more kneel to the rising Day. + +_Ama_. Then thus I try thee, Shepherd, this same night, +That now comes stealing on, a gentle pair +Have promis'd equal Love, and do appoint +To make yon Wood the place where hands and hearts +Are to be ty'd for ever: break their meeting +And their strong Faith, and I am ever thine. + +_Shep_. Tell me their Names, and if I do not move +(By my great power) the Centre of their Love +From his fixt being, let me never more +Warm me by those fair Eyes I thus adore. + +_Ama_. Come, as we go, I'll tell thee what they are, +And give thee fit directions for thy work. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Cloe. + +_Cloe_. How have I wrong'd the times, or men, that thus +After this holy Feast I pass unknown +And unsaluted? 'twas not wont to be +Thus frozen with the younger companie +Of jolly Shepherds; 'twas not then held good, +For lusty Grooms to mix their quicker blood +With that dull humour, most unfit to be +The friend of man, cold and dull Chastitie. +Sure I am held not fair, or am too old, +Or else not free enough, or from my fold +Drive not a flock sufficient great, to gain +The greedy eyes of wealth-alluring Swain: +Yet if I may believe what others say, +My face has soil enough; nor can they lay +Justly too strict a Coyness to my Charge; +My Flocks are many, and the Downs as large +They feed upon: then let it ever be +Their Coldness, not my Virgin Modestie +Makes me complain. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. Was ever Man but I +Thus truly taken with uncertainty? +Where shall that Man be found that loves a mind +Made up in Constancy, and dare not find +His Love rewarded? here let all men know +A Wretch that lives to love his Mistress so. + +_Clo_. Shepherd, I pray thee stay, where hast thou been? +Or whither go'st thou? here be Woods as green +As any, air likewise as fresh and sweet, +As where smooth _Zephyrus_ plays on the fleet +Face of the curled Streams, with Flowers as many +As the young Spring gives, and as choise as any; +Here be all new Delights, cool Streams and Wells, +Arbors o'rgrown with Woodbinds, Caves, and Dells, +Chase where thou wilt, whilst I sit by, and sing, +Or gather Rushes to make many a Ring +For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of Love, +How the pale _Phoebe_ hunting in a Grove, +First saw the Boy _Endymion_, from whose Eyes +She took eternal fire that never dyes; +How she convey'd him softly in a sleep, +His temples bound with poppy to the steep +Head of old _Latmus_, where she stoops each night, +Gilding the Mountain with her Brothers light, +To kiss her sweetest. + +_The_. Far from me are these +Hot flashes, bred from wanton heat and ease; +I have forgot what love and loving meant: +Rhimes, Songs, and merry Rounds, that oft are sent +To the soft Ears of Maids, are strange to me; +Only I live t' admire a Chastitie, +That neither pleasing Age, smooth tongue, or Gold, +Could ever break upon, so pure a Mold +Is that her Mind was cast in; 'tis to her +I only am reserv'd; she is my form I stir +By, breath and move, 'tis she and only she +Can make me happy, or give miserie. + +_Clo_. Good Shepherd, may a Stranger crave to know +To whom this dear observance you do ow? + +_The_. You may, and by her Vertue learn to square +And level out your Life; for to be fair +And nothing vertuous, only fits the Eye +Of gaudy Youth, and swelling Vanitie. +Then know, she's call'd the Virgin of the Grove, +She that hath long since bury'd her chaste Love, +And now lives by his Grave, for whose dear Soul +She hath vow'd her self into the holy Roll +Of strict Virginity; 'tis her I so admire, +Not any looser Blood, or new desire. + +_Clo_. Farewel poor Swain, thou art not for my bend, +I must have quicker Souls, whose works may tend +To some free action: give me him dare love +At first encounter, and as soon dare prove. + + +The SONG. + + _Come Shepherds, come, +Come away without delay +Whilst the gentle time dot[h] stay. + Green Woods are dumb, +And will never tell to any +Those dear Kisses, and those many +Sweet Embraces that are given +Dainty Pleasures that would even +Raise in coldest Age a fire, +And give Virgin Blood desire, + Then if ever, + Now or never, + Come and have it, + Think not I, + Dare deny, + If you crave it._ + +_Enter_ Daphnis. + +Here comes another: better be my speed, +Thou god of Blood: but certain, if I read +Not false, this is that modest Shepherd, he +That only dare salute, but ne'r could be +Brought to kiss any, hold discourse, or sing, +Whisper, or boldly ask that wished thing +We all are born for; one that makes loving Faces, +And could be well content to covet Graces, +Were they not got by boldness; in this thing +My hopes are frozen; and but Fate doth bring +Him hither, I would sooner chuse +A Man made out of Snow, and freer use +An Eunuch to my ends: but since he's here, +Thus I attempt him. Thou of men most dear, +Welcome to her, that only for thy sake, +Hath been content to live: here boldly take +My hand in pledg, this hand, that never yet +Was given away to any: and but sit +Down on this rushy Bank, whilst I go pull +Fresh Blossoms from the Boughs, or quickly cull +The choicest delicates from yonder Mead, +To make thee Chains, or Chaplets, or to spread +Under our fainting Bodies, when delight +Shall lock up all our senses. How the sight +Of those smooth rising Cheeks renew the story +Of young _Adonis_, when in Pride and Glory +He lay infolded 'twixt the beating arms +Of willing _Venus_: methinks stronger Charms +Dwell in those speaking eyes, and on that brow +More sweetness than the Painters can allow +To their best pieces: not _Narcissus_, he +That wept himself away in memorie +Of his own Beauty, nor _Silvanus_ Boy, +Nor the twice ravish'd Maid, for whom old _Troy_ +Fell by the hand of _Pirrhus_, may to thee +Be otherwise compar'd, than some dead Tree +To a young fruitful Olive. + +_Daph_. I can love, +But I am loth to say so, lest I prove +Too soon unhappy. + +_Clo_. Happy thou would'st say, +My dearest _Daphnis_, blush not, if the day +To thee and thy soft heats be enemie, +Then take the coming Night, fair youth 'tis free +To all the World, Shepherd, I'll meet thee then +When darkness hath shut up the eyes of men, +In yonder Grove: speak, shall our Meeting hold? +Indeed you are too bashful, be more bold, +And tell me I. + +_Daph_. I'm content to say so, +And would be glad to meet, might I but pray so +Much from your Fairness, that you would be true. + +_Clo_. Shepherd, thou hast thy Wish. + +_Daph_. Fresh Maid, adieu: +Yet one word more, since you have drawn me on +To come this Night, fear not to meet alone +That man that will not offer to be ill, +Though your bright self would ask it, for his fill +Of this Worlds goodness: do not fear him then, +But keep your 'pointed time; let other men +Set up their Bloods to sale, mine shall be ever +Fair as the Soul it carries, and unchast never. [_Exit_. + +_Clo_. Yet am I poorer than I was before. +Is it not strange, among so many a score +Of lusty Bloods, I should pick out these things +Whose Veins like a dull River far from Springs, +Is still the same, slow, heavy, and unfit +For stream or motion, though the strong winds hit +With their continual power upon his sides? +O happy be your names that have been brides, +And tasted those rare sweets for which I pine: +And far more heavy be thy grief and time, +Thou lazie swain, that maist relieve my needs, +Than his, upon whose liver alwayes feeds +A hungry vultur. + +_Enter_ Alexis. + +_Ale_. Can such beauty be +Safe in his own guard, and not draw the eye +Of him that passeth on, to greedy gaze, +Or covetous desire, whilst in a maze +The better part contemplates, giving rein +And wished freedom to the labouring vein? +Fairest and whitest, may I crave to know +The cause of your retirement, why ye goe +Thus all alone? methinks the downs are sweeter, +And the young company of swains far meeter, +Than those forsaken and untroden places. +Give not your self to loneness, and those graces +Hid from the eyes of men, that were intended +To live amongst us swains. + +_Cloe._ Thou art befriended, +Shepherd, in all my life I have not seen +A man in whom greater contents have been +Than thou thy self art: I could tell thee more, +Were there but any hope left to restore +My freedom lost. O lend me all thy red, +Thou shamefast morning, when from _Tithons_ bed +Thou risest ever maiden. + +_Alex. _If for me, +Thou sweetest of all sweets, these flashes be, +Speak and be satisfied. O guide her tongue, +My better angel; force my name among +Her modest thoughts, that the first word may be-- + +_Cloe._ _Alexis_, when the sun shall kiss the Sea, +Taking his rest by the white _Thetis_ side, +Meet in the holy wood, where I'le abide +Thy coming, Shepherd. + +_Alex._ If I stay behind, +An everlasting dulness, and the wind, +That as he passeth by shuts up the stream +Of _Rhine_ or _Volga_, whilst the suns hot beam +Beats back again, seise me, and let me turn +To coldness more than ice: oh how I burn +And rise in youth and fire! I dare not stay. + +_Cloe._ My name shall be your word. + +_Alex._ Fly, fly thou day. [_Exit._ + +_Cloe._ My grief is great if both these boyes should fail: +He that will use all winds must shift his sail. [_Exit._ + + + + +_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter an old_ Shepherd, _with a bell ringing, and the Priest of Pan +following._ + +_Priest._ O Shepherds all, and maidens fair, +Fold your flocks up, for the Air +'Gins to thicken, and the sun +Already his great course hath run. +See the dew-drops how they kiss +Every little flower that is: +Hanging on their velvet heads, +Like a rope of crystal beads. +See the heavy clouds low falling, +And bright _Hesperus_ down calling +The dead night from under ground, +At whose rising mists unsound, +Damps, and vapours fly apace, +Hovering o're the wanton face +Of these pastures, where they come, +Striking dead both bud and bloom; +Therefore from such danger lock +Every one his loved flock, +And let your Dogs lye loose without, +Lest the Wolf come as a scout +From the mountain, and e're day +Bear a Lamb or kid away, +Or the crafty theevish Fox, +Break upon your simple flocks: +To secure your selves from these, +Be not too secure in ease; +Let one eye his watches keep, +Whilst the t'other eye doth sleep; +So you shall good Shepherds prove, +And for ever hold the love +Of our great god. Sweetest slumbers +And soft silence fall in numbers +On your eye-lids: so farewel, +Thus I end my evenings knel. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Clorin, _the_ Shepherdess, _sorting of herbs, and telling the +natures of them._ + +_Clor._ Now let me know what my best Art hath done, +Helpt by the great power of the vertuous moon +In her full light; O you sons of Earth, +You only brood, unto whose happy birth +Vertue was given, holding more of nature +Than man her first born and most perfect creature, +Let me adore you; you that only can +Help or kill nature, drawing out that span +Of life and breath even to the end of time; +You that these hands did crop, long before prime +Of day; give me your names, and next your hidden power. +This is the _Clote_ bearing a yellow flower, +And this black Horehound, both are very good +For sheep or Shepherd, bitten by a wood- +Dogs venom'd tooth; these Ramuns branches are, +Which stuck in entries, or about the bar +That holds the door fast, kill all inchantments, charms, +Were they _Medeas_ verses that doe harms +To men or cattel; these for frenzy be +A speedy and a soveraign remedie, +The bitter Wormwood, Sage, and Marigold, +Such sympathy with mans good they do hold; +This Tormentil, whose vertue is to part +All deadly killing poyson from the heart; +And here _Narcissus_ roots for swellings be: +Yellow _Lysimacus_, to give sweet rest +To the faint Shepherd, killing where it comes +All busie gnats, and every fly that hums: +For leprosie, Darnel, and Sellondine, +With Calamint, whose vertues do refine +The blood of man, making it free and fair +As the first hour it breath'd, or the best air. +Here other two, but your rebellious use +Is not for me, whose goodness is abuse; +Therefore foul Standergrass, from me and mine +I banish thee, with lustful Turpentine, +You that intice the veins and stir the heat +To civil mutiny, scaling the seat +Our reason moves in, and deluding it +With dreams and wanton fancies, till the fit +Of burning lust be quencht; by appetite, +Robbing the soul of blessedness and light: +And thou light _Varvin_ too, thou must go after, +Provoking easie souls to mirth and laughter; +No more shall I dip thee in water now, +And sprinkle every post, and every bough +With thy well pleasing juyce, to make the grooms +Swell with high mirth, as with joy all the rooms. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. This is the Cabin where the best of all +Her Sex, that ever breath'd, or ever shall +Give heat or happiness to the Shepherds side, +Doth only to her worthy self abide. +Thou blessed star, I thank thee for thy light, +Thou by whose power the darkness of sad night +Is banisht from the Earth, in whose dull place +Thy chaster beams play on the heavy face +Of all the world, making the blue Sea smile, +To see how cunningly thou dost beguile +Thy Brother of his brightness, giving day +Again from _Chaos_, whiter than that way +That leads to _Joves_ high Court, and chaster far +Than chastity it self, yon blessed star +That nightly shines: Thou, all the constancie +That in all women was, or e're shall be, +From whose fair eye-balls flyes that holy fire, +That Poets stile the Mother of desire, +Infusing into every gentle brest +A soul of greater price, and far more blest +Than that quick power, which gives a difference, +'Twixt man and creatures of a lower sense. + +_Clor_. Shepherd, how cam'st thou hither to this place? +No way is troden, all the verdant grass +The spring shot up, stands yet unbruised here +Of any foot, only the dapled Deer +Far from the feared sound of crooked horn +Dwels in this fastness. + +_Th_. Chaster than the morn, +I have not wandred, or by strong illusion +Into this vertuous place have made intrusion: +But hither am I come (believe me fair) +To seek you out, of whose great good the air +Is full, and strongly labours, whilst the sound +Breaks against Heaven, and drives into a stound +The amazed Shepherd, that such vertue can +Be resident in lesser than a man. + +_Clor_. If any art I have, or hidden skill +May cure thee of disease or festred ill, +Whose grief or greenness to anothers eye +May seem impossible of remedy, +I dare yet undertake it. + +_The_. 'Tis no pain +I suffer through disease, no beating vein +Conveyes infection dangerous to the heart, +No part impostum'd to be cur'd by Art, +This body holds; and yet a feller grief +Than ever skilfull hand did give relief +Dwells on my soul, and may be heal'd by you, +Fair beauteous Virgin. + +_Clor_. Then Shepherd, let me sue +To know thy grief; that man yet never knew +The way to health, that durst not shew his sore. + +_Then_. Then fairest, know, I love you. + +_C[l]or_. Swain, no more, +Thou hast abus'd the strictness of this place, +And offred Sacrilegious foul disgrace +To the sweet rest of these interred bones, +For fear of whose ascending, fly at once, +Thou and thy idle passions, that the sight +Of death and speedy vengeance may not fright +Thy very soul with horror. + +_Then_. Let me not +(Thou all perfection) merit such a blot +For my true zealous faith. + +_Clor_. Dar'st thou abide +To see this holy Earth at once divide +And give her body up? for sure it will, +If thou pursu'st with wanton flames to fill +This hallowed place; therefore repent and goe, +Whilst I with praise appease his Ghost below, +That else would tell thee what it were to be +A rival in that vertuous love that he +Imbraces yet. + +_Then_. 'Tis not the white or red +Inhabits in your cheek that thus can wed +My mind to adoration; nor your eye, +Though it be full and fair, your forehead high, +And smooth as _Pelops_ shoulder; not the smile +Lies watching in those dimples to beguile +The easie soul, your hands and fingers long +With veins inamel'd richly, nor your tongue, +Though it spoke sweeter than _Arions_ Harp, +Your hair wove into many a curious warp, +Able in endless errour to infold +The wandring soul, nor the true perfect mould +Of all your body, which as pure doth show +In Maiden whiteness as the Alpsian snow. +All these, were but your constancie away, +Would please me less than a black stormy day +The wretched Seaman toyling through the deep. +But whilst this honour'd strictness you dare keep, +Though all the plagues that e're begotten were +In the great womb of air, were setled here, +In opposition, I would, like the tree, +Shake off those drops of weakness, and be free +Even in the arm of danger. + +_Clor_. Wouldst thou have +Me raise again (fond man) from silent grave, +Those sparks that long agoe were buried here, +With my dead friends cold ashes? + +_Then_. Dearest dear, +I dare not ask it, nor you must not grant; +Stand strongly to your vow, and do not faint: +Remember how he lov'd ye, and be still +The same Opinion speaks ye; let not will, +And that great god of women, appetite, +Set up your blood again; do not invite +Desire and fancie from their long exile, +To set them once more in a pleasing smile: +Be like a rock made firmly up 'gainst all +The power of angry Heaven, or the strong fall +Of _Neptunes_ battery; if ye yield, I die +To all affection; 'tis that loyaltie +Ye tie unto this grave I so admire; +And yet there's something else I would desire, +If you would hear me, but withall deny. +O _Pan_, what an uncertain destiny +Hangs over all my hopes! I will retire, +For if I longer stay, this double fire +Will lick my life up. + +_Clor_. Doe, let time wear out +What Art and Nature cannot bring about. + +_Then_. Farewel thou soul of vertue, and be blest +For ever, whilst that here I wretched rest +Thus to my self; yet grant me leave to dwell +In kenning of this Arbor; yon same dell +O'retopt with morning Cypress and sad Yew +Shall be my Cabin, where I'le early rew, +Before the Sun hath kist this dew away, +The hard uncertain chance which Fate doth lay +Upon this head. + +_Clor_. The gods give quick release +And happy cure unto thy hard disease. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Sullen_. I do not love this wench that I should meet, +For ne'r did my unconstant eye yet greet +That beauty, were it sweeter or more fair, +Than the new blossoms, when the morning air +Blows gently on the[m], or the breaking light, +When many maiden blushes to our sight +Shoot from his early face: were all these set +In some neat form before me, 'twould not get +The least love from me; some desire it might, +Or present burning: all to me in sight +Are equal, be they fair, or black, or brown, +Virgin, or careless wanton, I can crown +My appetite with any; swear as oft +And weep, as any, melt my words as soft +Into a maiden[s] ears, and tell how long +My heart has been her servant, and how strong +My passions are: call her unkind and cruel, +Offer her all I have to gain the Jewel +Maidens so highly prize: then loath, and fly: +This do I hold a blessed destiny. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Amar_. Hail Shepherd, _Pan_ bless both thy flock and thee, +For being mindful of thy word to me. + +_Sul_. Welcom fair Shepherdess, thy loving swain +Gives thee the self same wishes back again, +Who till this present hour ne're knew that eye, +Could make me cross mine arms, or daily dye +With fresh consumings: boldly tell me then, +How shall we part their faithful loves, and when? +Shall I bely him to her, shall I swear +His faith is false, and he loves every where? +I'le say he mockt her th' other day to you, +Which will by your confirming shew as true, +For he is of so pure an honesty, +To think (because he will not) none will lye: +Or else to him I'le slander _Amoret_, +And say, she but seems chaste; I'le swear she met +Me 'mongst the shady Sycamores last night +And loosely offred up her flame and spright +Into my bosom, made a wanton bed +Of leaves and many flowers, where she spread +Her willing body to be prest by me; +There have I carv'd her name on many a tree, +Together with mine own; to make this show +More full of seeming, _Hobinall_ you know, +Son to the aged Shepherd of the glen, +Him I have sorted out of many men, +To say he found us at our private sport, +And rouz'd us 'fore our time by his resort: +This to confirm, I have promis'd to the boy +Many a pretty knack, and many a toy, +As gins to catch him birds, with bow and bolt, +To shoot at nimble Squirrels in the holt; +A pair of painted Buskins, and a Lamb, +Soft as his own locks, or the down of swan; +This I have done to win ye, which doth give +Me double pleasure. Discord makes me live. + +_Amar_. Lov'd swain, I thank ye, these tricks might prevail +With other rustick Shepherds, but will fail +Even once to stir, much more to overthrow +His fixed love from judgement, who doth know +Your nature, my end, and his chosens merit; +Therefore some stranger way must force his spirit, +Which I have found: give second, and my love +Is everlasting thine. + +_Sul_. Try me and prove. + +_Amar_. These happy pair of lovers meet straightway, +Soon as they fold their flocks up with the day, +In the thick grove bordering upon yon Hill, +In whose hard side Nature hath carv'd a well, +And but that matchless spring which Poets know, +Was ne're the like to this: by it doth grow +About the sides, all herbs which Witches use, +All simples good for Medicine or abuse, +All sweets that crown the happy Nuptial day, +With all their colours, there the month of _May_ +Is ever dwelling, all is young and green, +There's not a grass on which was ever seen +The falling _Autumn_, or cold Winters hand, +So full of heat and vertue is the land, +About this fountain, which doth slowly break +Below yon Mountains foot, into a Creek +That waters all the vally, giving Fish +Of many sorts, to fill the Shepherds dish. +This holy well, my grandam that is dead, +Right wise in charms, hath often to me said, +Hath power to change the form of any creature, +Being thrice dipt o're the head, into what feature, +Or shape 'twould please the letter down to crave, +Who must pronounce this charm too, which she gave +Me on her death-bed; told me what, and how, +I should apply unto the Patients brow, +That would be chang'd, casting them thrice asleep, +Before I trusted them into this deep. +All this she shew'd me, and did charge me prove +This secret of her Art, if crost in love. +I'le this attempt; now Shepherd, I have here +All her prescriptions, and I will not fear +To be my self dipt: come, my temples bind +With these sad herbs, and when I sleep you find, +As you do speak your charm, thrice down me let, +And bid the water raise me _Amoret_; +Which being done, leave me to my affair, +And e're the day shall quite it self out-wear, +I will return unto my Shepherds arm, +Dip me again, and then repeat this charm, +And pluck me up my self, whom freely take, +And the hotst fire of thine affection slake. + +_Sul._ And if I fit thee not, then fit not me: +I long the truth of this wells power to see. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter Daphnis._ + +_Daph._ Here will I stay, for this the covert is +Where I appointed _Cloe_; do not miss, +Thou bright-ey'd virgin, come, O come my fair, +Be not abus'd with fear, nor let cold care +Of honour stay thee from the Shepherds arm, +Who would as hard be won to offer harm +To thy chast thoughts, as whiteness from the day, +Or yon great round to move another way. +My language shall be honest, full of truth, +My flames as smooth and spotless as my youth: +I will not entertain that wandring thought, +Whose easie current may at length be brought +To a loose vastness. + +_Alexis within._ Cloe! + +_Daph._ 'Tis her voyce, +And I must answer, _Cloe_! Oh the choice +Of dear embraces, chast and holy strains +Our hands shall give! I charge you all my veins +Through which the blood and spirit take their way, +Lock up your disobedient heats, and stay +Those mutinous desires that else would grow +To strong rebellion: do not wilder show +Than blushing modesty may entertain. + +_Alexis within._ Cloe! + +_Daph._ There sounds that [blessed] name again, + +_Enter_ Alexis. + +And I will meet it: let me not mistake, +This is some Shepherd! sure I am awake; +What may this riddle mean? I will retire, +To give my self more knowledg. + +_Alex._ Oh my fire, +How thou consum'st me! _Cloe,_ answer me, +_Alexis_, strong _Alexis_ , high and free, +Calls upon _Cloe_. See mine arms are full +Of entertainment, ready for to pull +That golden fruit which too too long hath hung +Tempting the greedy eye: thou stayest too long, +I am impatient of these mad delayes; +I must not leave unsought these many ways +That lead into this center, till I find +Quench for my burning lust. I come, unkind. [_Exit_ Alexis. + +_Daph._ Can my imagination work me so much ill, +That I may credit this for truth, and still +Believe mine eyes? or shall I firmly hold +Her yet untainted, and these sights but bold +Illusion? Sure such fancies oft have been +Sent to abuse true love, and yet are seen, +Daring to blind the vertuous thought with errour. +But be they far from me with their fond terrour: +I am resolv'd my _Cloe_ yet is true. [Cloe _within._ +_Cloe_, hark, _Cloe_: Sure this voyce is new, +Whose shrilness like the sounding of a Bell, +Tells me it is a Woman: _Cloe_, tell +Thy blessed name again. _Cloe_. [_within_] Here. +Oh what a grief is this to be so near, +And not incounter! + +_Enter_ Cloe. + +_Clo._ Shepherd, we are met, +Draw close into the covert, lest the wet +Which falls like lazy mists upon the ground +Soke through your Startups. + +_Daph._ Fairest are you found? +How have we wandred, that the better part +Of this good night is perisht? Oh my heart! +How have I long'd to meet ye, how to kiss +Those lilly hands, how to receive the bliss +That charming tongue gives to the happy ear +Of him that drinks your language! but I fear +I am too much unmanner'd, far too rude, +And almost grown lascivious to intrude +These hot behaviours; where regard of fame, +Honour, and modesty, a vertuous name, +And such discourse as one fair Sister may +Without offence unto the Brother say, +Should rather have been tendred: but believe, +Here dwells a better temper; do not grieve +Then, ever kindest, that my first salute +Seasons so much of fancy, I am mute +Henceforth to all discourses, but shall be +Suiting to your sweet thoughts and modestie. +Indeed I will not ask a kiss of you, +No not to wring your fingers, nor to sue +To those blest pair of fixed stars for smiles, +All a young lovers cunning, all his wiles, +And pretty wanton dyings, shall to me +Be strangers; only to your chastitie +I am devoted ever. + +_Clo_. Honest Swain, +First let me thank you, then return again +As much of my love: no thou art too cold, +Unhappy Boy, not tempred to my mold, +Thy blood falls heavy downward, 'tis not fear +To offend in boldness wins, they never wear +Deserved favours that deny to take +When they are offered freely: Do I wake +To see a man of his youth, years and feature, +And such a one as we call goodly creature, +Thus backward? What a world of precious Art +Were meerly lost, to make him do his part? +But I will shake him off, that dares not hold, +Let men that hope to be belov'd be bold. +_Daphnis_, I do desire, since we are met +So happily, our lives and fortunes set +Upon one stake, to give assurance now, +By interchange of hands and holy vow, +Never to break again: walk you that way +Whilest I in zealous meditation stray +A little this way: when we both have ended +These rites and duties, by the woods befriended, +And secrecie of night, retire and find +An aged Oak, whose hollowness may bind +Us both within his body, thither go, +It stands within yon bottom. + +_Daph_. Be it so. [_Ex_. Daph. + +_Clo_. And I will meet there never more with thee, +Thou idle shamefastness. + +_Alex. [within] Chloe!_ + +_Clo_. 'Tis he +That dare I hope be bolder. + +_Alex. Cloe!_ + +_Clo_. Now +Great _Pan_ for _Syrinx_ sake bid speed our Plow. [_Exit_ Cloe. + + + + +_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. + + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd _with_ Amaryllis _in a sleep._ + +_Sull_. From thy forehead thus I take +These herbs, and charge thee not awake +Till in yonder holy Well, +Thrice with powerful Magick spell, +Fill'd with many a baleful word, +Thou hast been dipt; thus with my cord +Of blasted Hemp, by Moon-light twin'd, +I do thy sleepy body bind; +I turn thy head into the East, +And thy feet into the West, +Thy left arm to the South put forth, +And thy right unto the North: +I take thy body from the ground, +In this deep and deadly swound, +And into this holy spring +I let thee slide down by my string. +Take this Maid thou holy pit, +To thy bottom, nearer yet, +In thy water pure and sweet, +By thy leave I dip her feet; +Thus I let her lower yet, +That her ankles may be wet; +Yet down lower, let her knee +In thy waters washed be; +There stop: Fly away +Every thing that loves the day. +Truth that hath but one face, +Thus I charm thee from this place. +Snakes that cast your coats for new, +Camelions that alter hue, +Hares that yearly Sexes change, +_Proteus_ alt'ring oft and strange, +_Hecate_ with shapes three, +Let this Maiden changed be, +With this holy water wet, +To the shape of _Amoret_: +_Cynthia_ work thou with my charm, +Thus I draw thee free from harm +Up out of this blessed Lake, +Rise both like her and awake. [_She awakes_. + +_Amar_. Speak Shepherd, am I _Amoret_ to sight? +Or hast thou mist in any Magick rite; +For want of which any defect in me, +May make our practices discovered be. + +_Sul_. By yonder Moon, but that I here do stand, +Whose breath hath thus transform'd thee, and whose hand +Let thee down dry, and pluckt thee up thus wet, +I should my self take thee for _Amoret_; +Thou art in cloths, in feature, voice and hew +So like, that sense cannot distinguish you. + +_Amar_. Then this deceit which cannot crossed be, +At once shall lose her him, and gain thee me. +Hither she needs must come by promise made, +And sure his nature never was so bad, +To bid a Virgin meet him in the wood, +When night and fear are up, but understood, +'Twas his part to come first: being come, I'le say, +My constant love made me come first and stay, +Then will I lead him further to the grove, +But stay you here, and if his own true love +Shall seek him here, set her in some wrong path, +Which say, her lover lately troden hath; +I'le not be far from hence, if need there be, +Here is another charm, whose power will free +The dazeled sense, read by the Moons beams clear, +And in my own true map make me appear. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Sull_. Stand close, here's _Perigot_, whose constant heart +Longs to behold her in whose shape thou art. + +_Per_. This is the place (fair _Amoret_) the hour +Is yet scarce come: Here every Sylvan power +Delights to be about yon sacred Well, +Which they have blest with many a powerful Spell; +For never Traveller in dead of Night, +Nor strayed Beasts have faln in, but when sight +Hath fail'd them, then their right way they have found +By help of them, so holy is the ground: +But I will farther seek, lest _Amoret_ +Should be first come, and so stray long unmet. +My _Amoret, Amoret_. [_Ex_. Amaryllis, Perigot. + +_Per_. My Love. + +_Amar_. I come my Love. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. Now she has got +Her own desires, and I shall gainer be +Of my long lookt for hopes as well as she. +How bright the moon shines here, as if she strove +To show her Glory in this little Grove, + +_Enter_ Amoret. + +To some new loved Shepherd. Yonder is +Another _Amoret_. Where differs this +From that? but that she _Perigot_ hath met, +I should have ta'n this for the counterfeit: +Herbs, Woods, and Springs, the power that in you lies, +If mortal men could know your Properties! + +_Amo_. Methinks it is not Night, I have no fear, +Walking this Wood, of Lions, or the Bear, +Whose Names at other times have made me quake, +When any Shepherdess in her tale spake +Of some of them, that underneath a Wood +Have torn true Lovers that together stood. +Methinks there are no Goblins, and mens talk, +That in these Woods the nimble Fairies walk, +Are fables; such a strong heart I have got, +Because I come to meet with _Perigot_. +My _Perigot_! who's that, my _Perigot_? + +_Sull_. Fair maid. + +_Amo_. Ay me, thou art not _Perigot_. + +_Sull_. But I can tell ye news of _Perigot_: +An hour together under yonder tree +He sate with wreathed arms and call'd on thee, +And said, why _Amoret_ stayest thou so long? +Then starting up, down yonder path he flung, +Lest thou hadst miss'd thy way: were it day light, +He could not yet have born him out of sight. + +_Amor_. Thanks, gentle Shepherd, and beshrew my stay, +That made me fearful I had lost my way: +As fast as my weak Legs (that cannot be +Weary with seeking him) will carry me, +I'll seek him out; and for thy Courtesie +Pray _Pan_ thy Love may ever follow thee. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. How bright she was, how lovely did she show! +Was it not pity to deceive her so? +She pluckt her Garments up, and tript away, +And with her Virgin-innocence did pray +For me that perjur'd her. Whilst she was here, +Methought the Beams of Light that did appear +Were shot from her; methought the Moon gave none, +But what it had from her: she was alone +With me, if then her presence did so move, +Why did not I essay to win her Love? +She would not sure have yielded unto me; +Women love only Opportunitie, +And not the Man; or if she had deny'd, +Alone, I might have forc'd her to have try'd +Who had been stronger: O vain Fool, to let +Such blest Occasion pass; I'll follow yet, +My Blood is up, I cannot now forbear. + +_Enter_ Alex, _and_ Cloe. + +I come sweet _Amoret_: Soft who is here? +A pair of Lovers? He shall yield her me; +"Now Lust is up, alike all Women be. + +_Alex_. Where shall we rest? but for the love of me, +_Cloe_, I know ere this would weary be. + +_Clo_. _Alexis_, let us rest here, if the place +Be private, and out of the common trace +Of every Shepherd: for I understood +This Night a number are about the Wood: +Then let us chuse some place, where out of sight +We freely may enjoy our stoln delight. + +_Alex_. Then boldly here, where we shall ne're be found, +No Shepherds way lies here, 'tis hallow'd ground: +No Maid seeks here her strayed Cow, or Sheep, +Fairies, and Fawns, and Satyrs do it keep: +Then carelesly rest here, and clip and kiss, +And let no fear make us our pleasures miss. + +_Clo_. Then lye by me, the sooner we begin, +The longer ere the day descry our sin. + +_Sull_. Forbear to touch my Love, or by yon flame, +The greatest power that Shepherds dare to name, +Here where thou sit'st under this holy tree +Her to dishonour, thou shalt buried be. + +_Alex_. If _Pan_ himself, should come out of the lawns, +With all his Troops of Satyrs and of Fawns, +And bid me leave, I swear by her two eyes, +A greater Oath than thine, I would not rise. + +_Sull_. Then from the cold Earth never shalt thou move, +But lose at one stroke both thy Life and Love. + +_Clo_. Hold gentle Shepherd. + +_Sull_. Fairest Shepherdess, +Come you with me, I do not love you less +Than that fond man, that would have kept you there +From me of more desert. + +_Alex_. O yet forbear +To take her from me; give me leave to dye +By her. + +[_The Satyr enters, he runs one way, and she another_. + +_Sat_. Now whilst the Moon doth rule the Skie, +And the Stars, whose feeble light +Give a pale Shadow to the night, +Are up, great _Pan_ commanded me +To walk this Grove about, whilst he +In a corner of the Wood, +Where never mortal foot hath stood, +Keeps dancing, musick, and a feast +To entertain a lovely Guest, +Where he gives her many a Rose, +Sweeter than the breath that blows +The leaves; Grapes, Berries of the best, +I never saw so great a feast. +But to my Charge: here must I stay, +To see what mortals lose their way, +And by a false fire seeming bright, +Train them in and leave them right. +Then must I watch if any be +Forcing of a Chastitie: +If I find it, then in haste +Give my wreathed horn a Blast, +And the Fairies all will run, +Wildly dancing by the Moon, +And will pinch him to the bone, +Till his lustful thoughts be gone. + +_Alex_. O Death! + +_Sat_. Back again about this ground, +Sure I hear a mortal sound; +I bind thee by this powerful Spell, +By the Waters of this Well, +By the glimmering Moon beams bright, +Speak again, thou mortal wight. + +_Alex_. Oh! + +_Sat_. Here the foolish mortal lies, +Sleeping on the ground: arise. +The poor wight is almost dead, +On the ground his wounds have bled, +And his cloaths foul'd with his blood: +To my Goddess in the Wood +Will I lead him, whose hands pure, +Will help this mortal wight to cure. + +_Enter_ Cloe _again_. + +_Clo_. Since I beheld yon shaggy man, my Breast +Doth pant, each bush, methinks, should hide a Beast: +Yet my desire keeps still above my fear, +I would fain meet some Shepherd, knew I where: +For from one cause of fear I am most free, +It is impossible to ravish me, +I am so willing. Here upon this ground +I left my Love all bloody with his wound; +Yet till that fearful shape made me be gone, +Though he were hurt, I furnisht was of one, +But now both lost. _Alexis_, speak or move, +If thou hast any life, thou art yet my Love. +He's dead, or else is with his little might +Crept from the Bank for fear of that ill Spright. +Then where art thou that struck'st my love? O stay, +Bring me thy self in change, and then I'll say +Thou hast some justice, I will make thee trim +With Flowers and Garlands that were meant for him; +I'll clip thee round with both mine arms, as fast +As I did mean he should have been embrac'd: +But thou art fled. What hope is left for me? +I'll run to _Daphnis_ in the hollow tree, +Whom I did mean to mock, though hope be small, +To make him bold; rather than none at all, +I'll try him; his heart, and my behaviour too +Perhaps may teach him what he ought to do. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Sul_. This was the place, 'twas but my feeble sight, +Mixt with the horrour of my deed, and night, +That shap't these fears, and made me run away, +And lose my beauteous hardly gotten prey. +Speak gentle Shepherdess, I am alone, +And tender love for love: but she is gone +From me, that having struck her Lover dead, +For silly fear left her alone and fled. +And see the wounded body is remov'd +By her of whom it was so well belov'd. + +_Enter_ Perigot _and_ Amaryllis _in the shape of_ Amoret. + +But these fancies must be quite forgot, +I must lye close. Here comes young _Perigot_ +With subtile _Amaryllis_ in the shape +Of _Amoret_. Pray Love he may not 'scape. + +_Amar_. Beloved _Perigot_, shew me some place, +Where I may rest my limbs, weak with the Chace +Of thee, an hour before thou cam'st at least. + +_Per_. Beshrew my tardy steps: here shalt thou rest +Upon this holy bank, no deadly Snake +Upon this turf her self in folds doth make. +Here is no poyson for the Toad to feed; +Here boldly spread thy hands, no venom'd Weed +Dares blister them, no slimy Snail dare creep +Over thy face when thou art fast asleep; +Here never durst the babling Cuckow spit, +No slough of falling Star did ever hit +Upon this bank: let this thy Cabin be, +This other set with Violets for me. + +_Ama_. Thou dost not love me _Perigot_. + +_Per_. Fair maid, +You only love to hear it often said; +You do not doubt. + +_Amar_. Believe me but I do. + +_Per_. What shall we now begin again to woo? +'Tis the best way to make your Lover last, +To play with him, when you have caught him fast. + +_Amar_. By _Pan_ I swear, I loved _Perigot_, +And by yon Moon, I think thou lov'st me not. + +_Per_. By _Pan_ I swear, and if I falsely swear, +Let him not guard my flocks, let Foxes tear +My earliest Lambs, and Wolves whilst I do sleep +Fall on the rest, a Rot among my Sheep. +I love thee better than the careful Ewe +The new-yean'd Lamb that is of her own hew; +I dote upon thee more than the young Lamb +Doth on the bag that feeds him from his Dam. +Were there a sort of Wolves got in my Fold, +And one ran after thee, both young and old +Should be devour'd, and it should be my strife +To save thee, whom I love above my life. + +_Ama_. How shall I trust thee when I see thee chuse +Another Bed, and dost my side refuse? + +_Per_. 'Twas only that the chast thoughts might be shewn +'Twixt thee and me, although we were alone. + +_Ama_. Come, _Perigot_ will shew his power, that he +Can make his _Amoret_, though she weary be, +Rise nimbly from her Couch, and come to his. +Here take thy _Amoret_, embrace and kiss. + +_Per_. What means my Love? + +_Ama_. To do as lovers shou'd, +That are to be enjoy'd, not to be woo'd. +There's ne'r a Shepherdess in all the plain +Can kiss thee with more Art, there's none can feign +More wanton tricks. + +_Per_. Forbear, dear Soul, to trie +Whether my Heart be pure; I'll rather die +Than nourish one thought to dishonour thee. + +_Amar_. Still think'st thou such a thing as Chastitie +Is amongst Women? _Perigot_ there's none, +That with her Love is in a Wood alone, +And would come home a maid; be not abus'd +With thy fond first Belief, let time be us'd: +Why dost thou rise? + +_Per_. My true heart thou hast slain. + +_Ama_. Faith _Perigot_, I'll pluck thee down again. + +_Per_. Let go, thou Serpent, that into my brest +Hast with thy cunning div'd; art not in Jest? + +_Ama_. Sweet love, lye down. + +_Per_. Since this I live to see, +Some bitter North-wind blast my flocks and me. + +_Ama_. You swore you lov'd, yet will not do my will. + +_Per_. O be as thou wert once, I'll love thee still. + +_Ama_. I am, as still I was, and all my kind, +Though other shows we have poor men to blind. + +_Per_. Then here I end all Love, and lest my vain +Belief should ever draw me in again, +Before thy face that hast my Youth misled, +I end my life, my blood be on thy head. + +_Ama._ O hold thy hands, thy _Amoret_ doth cry. + +_Per._ Thou counsel'st well, first _Amoret_ shall dye, +That is the cause of my eternal smart. [_He runs after her._ + +_Ama._ O hold. + +_Per._ This steel shall pierce thy lustful heart. + +[_The Sullen Shepherd steps out and uncharms her._ + +_Sull._ Up and down every where, +I strew the herbs to purge the air: +Let your Odour drive hence +All mists that dazel sence. +Herbs and Springs whose hidden might +Alters Shapes, and mocks the sight, +Thus I charge you to undo +All before I brought ye to: +Let her flye, let her 'scape, +Give again her own shape. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis _in her own shape._ + +_Amar._ Forbear thou gentle Swain, thou dost mistake, +She whom thou follow'dst fled into the brake, +And as I crost thy way, I met thy wrath, +The only fear of which near slain me hath. + +_Per._ Pardon fair Shepherdess, my rage and night +Were both upon me, and beguil'd my sight; +But far be it from me to spill the blood +Of harmless Maids that wander in the Wood. [_Ex._ Ama. + +_Enter_ Amoret. + +_Amor._ Many a weary step in yonder path +Poor hopeless _Amoret_ twice trodden hath +To seek her _Perigot_, yet cannot hear +His Voice; my _Perigot_, she loves thee dear +That calls. + +_Per._ See yonder where she is, how fair +She shows, and yet her breath infefts the air. + +_Amo._ My Perigot. + +_Per._ Here. + +_Amo._ Happy. + +_Per._ Hapless first: +It lights on thee, the next blow is the worst. + +_Amo._ Stay _Perigot_, my love, thou art unjust. + +_Peri._ Death is the best reward that's due to lust. [_Exit_ Perigot. + +_Sul._ Now shall their love be crost, for being struck, +I'le throw her in the Fount, lest being took +By some night-travaller, whose honest care +May help to cure her. Shepherdess prepare +Your self to die. + +_Amo._ No Mercy I do crave, +Thou canst not give a worse blow than I have; +Tell him that gave me this, who lov'd him too, +He struck my soul, and not my body through, +Tell him when I am dead, my soul shall be +At peace, if he but think he injur'd me. + +_Sul._ In this Fount be thy grave, thou wert not meant +Sure for a woman, thou art so innocent. [_flings her into the well_ +She cannot scape, for underneath the ground, +In a long hollow the clear spring is bound, +Till on yon side where the Morns Sun doth look, +The strugling water breaks out in a Brook. [_Exit._ + +[_The God of the River riseth with_ Amoret _in his arms._ + +_God._ What powerfull charms my streams do bring +Back again unto their spring, +With such force, that I their god, +Three times striking with my Rod, +Could not keep them in their ranks: +My Fishes shoot into the banks, +There's not one that stayes and feeds, +All have hid them in the weeds. +Here's a mortal almost dead, +Faln into my River head, +Hallowed so with many a spell, +That till now none ever fell. +'Tis a Female young and clear, +Cast in by some Ravisher. +See upon her breast a wound, +On which there is no plaister bound. +Yet she's warm, her pulses beat, +'Tis a sign of life and heat. +If thou be'st a Virgin pure, +I can give a present cure: +Take a drop into thy wound +From my watry locks more round +Than Orient Pearl, and far more pure +Than unchast flesh may endure. +See she pants, and from her flesh +The warm blood gusheth out afresh. +She is an unpolluted maid; +I must have this bleeding staid. +From my banks I pluck this flower +With holy hand, whose vertuous power +Is at once to heal and draw. +The blood returns. I never saw +A fairer Mortal. Now doth break +Her deadly slumber: Virgin, speak. + +_Amo._ Who hath restor'd my sense, given me new breath, +And brought me back out of the arms of death? + +_God._ I have heal'd thy wounds. + +_Amo._ Ay me! + +_God._ Fear not him that succour'd thee: +I am this Fountains god; below, +My waters to a River grow, +And 'twixt two banks with Osiers set, +That only prosper in the wet, +Through the Meadows do they glide, +Wheeling still on every side, +Sometimes winding round about, +To find the evenest channel out. +And if thou wilt go with me, +Leaving mortal companie, +In the cool streams shalt thou lye, +Free from harm as well as I: +I will give thee for thy food, +No Fish that useth in the mud, +But Trout and Pike that love to swim +Where the gravel from the brim +Through the pure streams may be seen: +Orient Pearl fit for a Queen, +Will I give thy love to win, +And a shell to keep them in: +Not a Fish in all my Brook +That shall disobey thy look, +But when thou wilt, come sliding by, +And from thy white hand take a fly. +And to make thee understand, +How I can my waves command, +They shall bubble whilst I sing +Sweeter than the silver spring. + +_The SONG. + +Do not fear to put thy feet +Naked in the River sweet; +Think not Leach, or Newt or Toad +Will bite thy foot, when thou hast troad; +Nor let the water rising high, +As thou wad'st in, make thee crie +And sob, but ever live with me, +And not a wave shall trouble thee._ + +_Amo._ Immortal power, that rul'st this holy flood, +I know my self unworthy to be woo'd +By thee a god: for e're this, but for thee +I should have shown my weak Mortalitie: +Besides, by holy Oath betwixt us twain, +I am betroath'd unto a Shepherd swain, +Whose comely face, I know the gods above +May make me leave to see, but not to love. + +_God._ May he prove to thee as true. +Fairest Virgin, now adieu, +I must make my waters fly, +Lest they leave their Channels dry, +And beasts that come unto the spring +Miss their mornings watering, +Which I would not; for of late +All the neighbour people sate +On my banks, and from the fold, +Two white Lambs of three weeks old +Offered to my Deitie: +For which this year they shall be free +From raging floods, that as they pass +Leave their gravel in the grass: +Nor shall their Meads be overflown, +When their grass is newly mown. + +_Amo._ For thy kindness to me shown, +Never from thy banks be blown +Any tree, with windy force, +Cross thy streams, to stop thy course: +May no beast that comes to drink, +With his horns cast down thy brink; +May none that for thy fish do look, +Cut thy banks to damm thy Brook; +Bare-foot may no Neighbour wade +In thy cool streams, wife nor maid, +When the spawns on stones do lye, +To wash their Hemp, and spoil the Fry. + +_God._ Thanks Virgin, I must down again, +Thy wound will put thee to no pain: +Wonder not so soon 'tis gone: +A holy hand was laid upon. + +_Amo._ And I unhappy born to be, +Must follow him that flies from me. + + + + +_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ + + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per._ She is untrue, unconstant, and unkind, +She's gone, she's gone, blow high thou North-west wind, +And raise the Sea to Mountains, let the Trees +That dare oppose thy raging fury, leese +Their firm foundation, creep into the Earth, +And shake the world, as at the monstrous birth +Of some new Prodigy, whilst I constant stand, +Holding this trustie Boar-spear in my hand, +And falling thus upon it. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis, _running._ + +_Amar._ Stay thy dead-doing hand, thou art too hot +Against thy self, believe me comely Swain, +If that thou dyest, not all the showers of Rain +The heavy clods send down can wash away +That foul unmanly guilt, the world will lay +Upon thee. Yet thy love untainted stands: +Believe me, she is constant, not the sands +Can be so hardly numbred as she won: +I do not trifle, _Shepherd_, by the Moon, +And all those lesser lights our eyes do view, +All that I told thee _Perigot_, is true: +Then be a free man, put away despair, +And will to dye, smooth gently up that fair +Dejected forehead: be as when those eyes +Took the first heat. + +_Per._ Alas he double dyes, +That would believe, but cannot; 'tis not well +Ye keep me thus from dying, here to dwell +With many worse companions: but oh death, +I am not yet inamour'd of this breath +So much, but I dare leave it, 'tis not pain +In forcing of a wound, nor after gain +Of many dayes, can hold me from my will: +'Tis not my self, but _Amoret_, bids kill. + +_Ama._ Stay but a little, little, but one hour, +And if I do not show thee through the power +Of herbs and words I have, as dark as night, +My self turn'd to thy _Amoret_, in sight, +Her very figure, and the Robe she wears, +With tawny Buskins, and the hook she bears +Of thine own Carving, where your names are set, +Wrought underneath with many a curious fret, +The _Prim-Rose_ Chaplet, taudry-lace and Ring, +Thou gavest her for her singing, with each thing +Else that she wears about her, let me feel +The first fell stroke of that Revenging steel. + +_Per._ I am contented, if there be a hope +To give it entertainment, for the scope +Of one poor hour; goe, you shall find me next +Under yon shady Beech, even thus perplext, +And thus believing. + +_Ama._ Bind before I goe, +Thy soul by _Pan_ unto me, not to doe +Harm or outragious wrong upon thy life, +Till my return. + +_Per._ By _Pan_, and by the strife +He had with _Phoebus_ for the Mastery, +When Golden _Midas_ judg'd their _Minstrelcy_, +I will not. [_Exeunt._ + +_Enter_ Satyr, _with_ Alexis, _hurt._ + +_Satyr._ Softly gliding as I goe, +With this burthen full of woe, +Through still silence of the night, +Guided by the Gloe-worms light, +Hither am I come at last, +Many a Thicket have I past +Not a twig that durst deny me, +Not a bush that durst descry me, +To the little Bird that sleeps +On the tender spray: nor creeps +That hardy worm with pointed tail, +But if I be under sail, +Flying faster than the wind, +Leaving all the clouds behind, +But doth hide her tender head +In some hollow tree or bed +Of seeded Nettles: not a Hare +Can be started from his fare, +By my footing, nor a wish +Is more sudden, nor a fish +Can be found with greater ease, +Cut the vast unbounded seas, +Leaving neither print nor sound, +Than I, when nimbly on the ground, +I measure many a league an hour: +But behold the happy power, +That must ease me of my charge, +And by holy hand enlarge +The soul of this sad man, that yet +Lyes fast bound in deadly fit; +Heaven and great _Pan_ succour it! +Hail thou beauty of the bower, +Whiter than the Paramour +Of my Master, let me crave +Thy vertuous help to keep from Grave +This poor Mortal that here lyes, +Waiting when the destinies +Will cut off his thred of life: +View the wound by cruel knife +Trencht into him. + +_Clor._ What art thou call'st me from my holy rites, +And with thy feared name of death affrights +My tender Ears? speak me thy name and will. + +_Satyr._ I am the _Satyr_ that did fill +Your lap with early fruit, and will, +When I hap to gather more, +Bring ye better and more store: +Yet I come not empty now, +See a blossom from the bow, +But beshrew his heart that pull'd it, +And his perfect sight that cull'd it +From the other springing blooms; +For a sweeter youth the Grooms +Cannot show me, nor the downs, +Nor the many neighbouring towns; +Low in yonder glade I found him, +Softly in mine Arms I bound him, +Hither have I brought him sleeping +In a trance, his wounds fresh weeping, +In remembrance such youth may +Spring and perish in a day. + +_Clor._ _Satyr_, they wrong thee, that do term thee rude, +Though thou beest outward rough and tawny hu'd, +Thy manners are as gentle and as fair +As his, who brags himself, born only heir +To all Humanity: let me see the wound: +This Herb will stay the current being bound +Fast to the Orifice, and this restrain +Ulcers, and swellings, and such inward pain, +As the cold air hath forc'd into the sore: +This to draw out such putrifying gore +As inward falls. + +_Satyr._ Heaven grant it may doe good. + +_Clor._ Fairly wipe away the blood: +Hold him gently till I fling +Water of a vertuous spring +On his temples; turn him twice +To the Moon beams, pinch him thrice, +That the labouring soul may draw +From his great eclipse. + +_Satyr._ I saw +His eye-lids moving. + +_Clo._ Give him breath, +All the danger of cold death +Now is vanisht; with this Plaster, +And this unction, do I master +All the festred ill that may +Give him grief another day. + +_Satyr._ See he gathers up his spright +And begins to hunt for light; +Now he gapes and breaths again: +How the blood runs to the vein, +That erst was empty! + +_Alex._ O my heart, +My dearest, dearest _Cloe_, O the smart +Runs through my side: I feel some pointed thing +Pass through my Bowels, sharper than the sting +Of Scorpion. + + Pan preserve me, what are you? + Do not hurt me, I am true + To my _Cloe_, though she flye, + And leave me to thy destiny. + There she stands, and will not lend + Her smooth white hand to help her friend: + +But I am much mistaken, for that face +Bears more Austerity and modest grace, + + More reproving and more awe + Than these eyes yet ever saw + In my Cloe. Oh my pain + Eagerly renews again. + +Give me your help for his sake you love best. + +_Clor._ Shepherd, thou canst not possibly take rest, +Till thou hast laid aside all hearts desires +Provoking thought that stir up lusty fires, +Commerce with wanton eyes, strong blood, and will +To execute, these must be purg'd, untill +The vein grow whiter; then repent, and pray +Great _Pan_ to keep you from the like decay, +And I shall undertake your cure with ease. +Till when this vertuous Plaster will displease +Your tender sides; give me your hand and rise: +Help him a little _Satyr_, for his thighs +Yet are feeble. + +_Alex._ Sure I have lost much blood. + +_Satyr._ 'Tis no matter, 'twas not good. +Mortal you must leave your wooing, +Though there be a joy in doing, +Yet it brings much grief behind it, +They best feel it, that do find it. + +_Clor._ Come bring him in, I will attend his sore +When you are well, take heed you lust no more. + +_Satyr._ Shepherd, see what comes of kissing, +By my head 'twere better missing. +Brightest, if there be remaining +Any service, without feigning +I will do it; were I set +To catch the nimble wind, or get +Shadows gliding on the green, +Or to steal from the great Queen +Of _Fayries_, all her beauty, +I would do it, so much duty +Do I owe those precious Eyes. + +_Clor._ I thank thee honest _Satyr_, if the cryes +Of any other that be hurt or ill, +Draw thee unto them, prithee do thy will +To bring them hither. + +_Satyr._ I will, and when the weather +Serves to Angle in the brook, +I will bring a silver hook, +With a line of finest silk, +And a rod as white as milk, +To deceive the little fish: +So I take my leave, and wish, +On this Bower may ever dwell +Spring, and Summer. + +_Clo_. Friend farewel. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Amoret, _seeking her Love_. + +_Amor_. This place is Ominous, for here I lost +My Love and almost life, and since have crost +All these Woods over, never a Nook or Dell, +Where any little Bird, or Beast doth dwell, +But I have sought him, never a bending brow +Of any Hill or Glade, the wind sings through, +Nor a green bank, nor shade where Shepherds use +To sit and Riddle, sweetly pipe, or chuse +Their Valentines, that I have mist, to find +My love in. _Perigot_, Oh too unkind, +Why hast thou fled me? whither art thou gone? +How have I wrong'd thee? was my love alone +To thee worthy this scorn'd recompence? 'tis well, +I am content to feel it: but I tell +Thee Shepherd, and these lusty woods shall hear, +Forsaken _Amoret_ is yet as clear +Of any stranger fire, as Heaven is +From foul corruption, or the deep Abysse +From light and happiness; and thou mayst know +All this for truth, and how that fatal blow +Thou gav'st me, never from desert of mine, +Fell on my life, but from suspect of thine, +Or fury more than madness; therefore, here, +Since I have lost my life, my love, my dear, +Upon this cursed place, and on this green, +That first divorc'd us, shortly shall be seen +A sight of so great pity, that each eye +Shall dayly spend his spring in memory +Of my untimely fall. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis. + +_Amar_. I am not blind, +Nor is it through the working of my mind, +That this shows _Amoret_; forsake me all +That dwell upon the soul, but what men call +Wonder, or more than wonder, miracle, +For sure so strange as this the Oracle +Never gave answer of, it passeth dreams, +Or mad-mens fancy, when the many streams +Of new imaginations rise and fall: +'Tis but an hour since these Ears heard her call +For pity to young _Perigot_; whilest he, +Directed by his fury bloodily +Lanc't up her brest, which bloodless fell and cold; +And if belief may credit what was told, +After all this, the Melancholy Swain +Took her into his arms being almost slain, +And to the bottom of the holy well +Flung her, for ever with the waves to dwell. +'Tis she, the very same, 'tis _Amoret_, +And living yet, the great powers will not let +Their vertuous love be crost. Maid, wipe away +Those heavy drops of sorrow, and allay +The storm that yet goes high, which not deprest, +Breaks heart and life, and all before it rest: +Thy _Perigot_-- + +_Amor_. Where, which is _Perigot?_ + +_Amar_. Sits there below, lamenting much, god wot, +Thee [and thy] fortune, go and comfort him, +And thou shalt find him underneath a brim +Of sailing Pines that edge yon Mountain in. + +_Amo_. I go, I run, Heaven grant me I may win +His soul again. [_Exit_ Amoret. + +_Enter_ Sullen. + +_Sull_. Stay _Amaryllis_, stay, +Ye are too fleet, 'tis two hours yet to day. +I have perform'd my promise, let us sit +And warm our bloods together till the fit +Come lively on us. + +_Amar_. Friend you are too keen, +The morning riseth and we shall be seen, +Forbear a little. + +_Sull_. I can stay no longer. + +_Amar_. Hold _Shepherd_ hold, learn not to be a wronger +Of your word, was not your promise laid, +To break their loves first? + +_Sull_. I have done it Maid. + +_Amar_. No, they are yet unbroken, met again, +And are as hard to part yet as the stain +Is from the finest Lawn. + +_Sull_. I say they are +Now at this present parted, and so far, +That they shall never meet. + +_Amar_. Swain 'tis not so, +For do but to yon hanging Mountain go, +And there believe your eyes. + +_Sull_. You do but hold +Off with delayes and trifles; farewell cold +And frozen bashfulness, unfit for men; +Thus I salute thee Virgin. + +_Amar_. And thus then, +I bid you follow, catch me if you can. [_Exit_. + +_Sull_. And if I stay behind I am no man. [_Exit running after her_. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per_. Night do not steal away: I woo thee yet +To hold a hard hand o're the rusty bit +That guides the lazy Team: go back again, +_Bootes_, thou that driv'st thy frozen Wain +Round as a Ring, and bring a second Night +To hide my sorrows from the coming light; +Let not the eyes of men stare on my face, +And read my falling, give me some black place +Where never Sun-beam shot his wholesome light, +That I may sit and pour out my sad spright +Like running water, never to be known +After the forced fall and sound is gone. + +_Enter_ Amoret _looking for_ Perigot. + +_Amo_. This is the bottom: speak if thou be here, +My _Perigot_, thy _Amoret_, thy dear +Calls on thy loved Name. + +_Per_. What art thou [dare] +Tread these forbidden paths, where death and care +Dwell on the face of darkness? + +_Amo_. 'Tis thy friend, +Thy _Amoret_, come hither to give end +To these consumings; look up gentle Boy, +I have forgot those Pains and dear annoy +I suffer'd for thy sake, and am content +To be thy love again; why hast thou rent +Those curled locks, where I have often hung +Riband and Damask-roses, and have flung +Waters distil'd to make thee fresh and gay, +Sweeter than the Nosegayes on a Bridal day? +Why dost thou cross thine Arms, and hang thy face +Down to thy bosom, letting fall apace +From those two little Heavens upon the ground +Showers of more price, more Orient, and more round +Than those that hang upon the Moons pale brow? +Cease these complainings, Shepherd, I am now +The same I ever was, as kind and free, +And can forgive before you ask of me. +Indeed I can and will. + +_Per_. So spoke my fair. +O you great working powers of Earth and Air, +Water and forming fire, why have you lent +Your hidden vertues of so ill intent? +Even such a face, so fair, so bright of hue +Had _Amoret_; such words so smooth and new, +Came flying from her tongue; such was her eye, +And such the pointed sparkle that did flye +Forth like a bleeding shaft; all is the same, +The Robe and Buskins, painted Hook, and frame +Of all her Body. O me, _Amoret_! + +_Amo_. Shepherd, what means this Riddle? who hath set +So strong a difference 'twixt my self and me +That I am grown another? look and see +The Ring thou gav'st me, and about my wrist +That curious Bracelet thou thy self didst twist +From those fair Tresses: knowst thou _Amoret_? +Hath not some newer love forc'd thee forget +Thy Ancient faith? + +_Per_. Still nearer to my love; +These be the very words she oft did prove +Upon my temper, so she still would take +Wonder into her face, and silent make +Signs with her head and hand, as who would say, +Shepherd remember this another day. + +_Amo_. Am I not _Amaret_? where was I lost? +Can there be Heaven, and time, and men, and most +Of these unconstant? Faith where art thou fled? +Are all the vows and protestations dead, +The hands [held] up, the wishes, and the heart, +Is there not one remaining, not a part +Of all these to be found? why then I see +Men never knew that vertue Constancie. + +_Per_. Men ever were most blessed, till crass fate +Brought Love and Women forth, unfortunate +To all that ever tasted of their smiles, +Whose actions are all double, full of wiles: +Like to the subtil Hare, that 'fore the Hounds +Makes many turnings, leaps and many rounds, +This way and that way, to deceive the scent +Of her pursuers. + +_Amo_. 'Tis but to prevent +Their speedy coming on that seek her fall, +The hands of cruel men, more Bestial, +And of a nature more refusing good +Than Beasts themselves, or Fishes of the Flood. + +_Per_. Thou art all these, and more than nature meant, +When she created all, frowns, joys, content; +Extream fire for an hour, and presently +Colder than sleepy poyson, or the Sea, +Upon whose face sits a continual frost: +Your actions ever driven to the most, +Then down again as low, that none can find +The rise or falling of a Womans mind. + +_Amo_. Can there be any Age, or dayes, or time, +Or tongues of men, guilty so great a crime +As wronging simple Maid? O _Perigot_, +Thou that wast yesterday without a blot, +Thou that wast every good, and every thing +That men call blessed; thou that wast the spring +From whence our looser grooms drew all their best; +Thou that wast alwayes just, and alwayes blest +In faith and promise; thou that hadst the name +Of Vertuous given thee, and made good the same +Ev'en from thy Cradle; thou that wast that all +That men delighted in; Oh what a fall +Is this, to have been so, and now to be +The only best in wrong and infamie, +And I to live to know this! and by me +That lov'd thee dearer than mine eyes, or that +Which we esteem'd our honour, Virgin state; +Dearer than Swallows love the early morn, +Or Dogs of Chace the sound of merry Horn; +Dearer than thou canst love thy new Love, if thou hast +Another, and far dearer than the last; +Dearer than thou canst love thy self, though all +The self love were within thee that did fall +With that coy Swain that now is made a flower, +For whose dear sake, Echo weeps many a shower. +And am I thus rewarded for my flame? +Lov'd worthily to get a wantons name? +Come thou forsaken Willow, wind my head, +And noise it to the world my Love is dead: +I am forsaken, I am cast away. +And left for every lazy Groom to say, +I was unconstant, light, and sooner lost +Than the quick Clouds we see, or the chill Frost +When the hot Sun beats on it. Tell me yet, +Canst thou not love again thy _Amoret_? + +_Per_. Thou art not worthy of that blessed name, +I must not know thee, fling thy wanton flame +Upon some lighter blood, that may be hot +With words and feigned passions: _Perigot_ +Was ever yet unstain'd, and shall not now +Stoop to the meltings of a borrowed brow. + +_Amo_. Then hear me heaven, to whom I call for right, +And you fair twinkling stars that crown the night; +And hear me woods, and silence of this place, +And ye sad hours that move a sullen pace; +Hear me ye shadows that delight to dwell +In horrid darkness, and ye powers of Hell, +Whilst I breath out my last; I am that maid, +That yet untainted _Amoret_, that plaid +The careless prodigal, and gave away +My soul to this young man, that now dares say +I am a stranger, not the same, more wild; +And thus with much belief I was beguil'd. +I am that maid, that have delaid, deny'd, +And almost scorn'd the loves of all that try'd +To win me, but this swain, and yet confess +I have been woo'd by many with no less +Soul of affection, and have often had +Rings, Belts, and Cracknels sent me from the lad +That feeds his flocks down westward; Lambs and Doves +By young _Alexis; Daphnis_ sent me gloves, +All which I gave to thee: nor these, nor they +That sent them did I smile on, or e're lay +Up to my after-memory. But why +Do I resolve to grieve, and not to dye? +Happy had been the stroke thou gav'st, if home; +By this time had I found a quiet room +Where every slave is free, and every brest +That living breeds new care, now lies at rest, +And thither will poor _Amoret_. + +_Per_. Thou must. +Was ever any man so loth to trust +His eyes as I? or was there ever yet +Any so like as this to _Amoret_? +For whose dear sake, I promise if there be +A living soul within thee, thus to free +Thy body from it. [_He hurts her again_. + +_Amo_. So, this work hath end: +Farewel and live, be constant to thy friend +That loves thee next. + +_Enter_ Satyr, Perigot _runs off_. + +_Satyr_. See the day begins to break, +And the light shoots like a streak +Of subtil fire, the wind blows cold, +Whilst the morning doth unfold; +Now the Birds begin to rouse, +And the Squirril from the boughs +Leaps to get him Nuts and fruit; +The early Lark that erst was mute, +Carrols to the rising day +Many a note and many a lay: +Therefore here I end my watch, +Lest the wandring swain should catch +Harm, or lose himself. + +_Amo_. Ah me! + +_Satyr_. Speak again what e're thou be, +I am ready, speak I say: +By the dawning of the day, +By the power of night and _Pan_, +I inforce thee speak again. + +_Amo_. O I am most unhappy. + +_Satyr_. Yet more blood! +Sure these wanton Swains are wode. +Can there be a hand or heart +Dare commit so vile a part +As this Murther? By the Moon +That hid her self when this was done, +Never was a sweeter face: +I will bear her to the place +Where my Goddess keeps; and crave +Her to give her life, or grave. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Clorin. + +_Clor_. Here whilst one patient takes his rest secure +I steal abroad to doe another Cure. +Pardon thou buryed body of my love, +That from thy side I dare so soon remove, +I will not prove unconstant, nor will leave +Thee for an hour alone. When I deceive +My first made vow, the wildest of the wood +Tear me, and o're thy Grave let out my blood; +I goe by wit to cure a lovers pain +Which no herb can; being done, I'le come again. [_Exit_. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_The_. Poor Shepherd in this shade for ever lye, +And seeing thy fair _Clorins_ Cabin, dye: +0 hapless love, which [being] answer'd, ends; +And as a little infant cryes and bends +His tender Brows, when rowling of his eye +He hath espy'd some thing that glisters nigh +Which he would have, yet give it him, away +He throws it straight, and cryes afresh to play +With something else: such my affection, set +On that which I should loath, if I could get. + +_Enter_ Clorin. + +_Clor_. See where he lyes; did ever man but he +Love any woman for her Constancie +To her dead lover, which she needs must end +Before she can allow him for her friend, +And he himself must needs the cause destroy, +For which he loves, before he can enjoy? +Poor _Shepherd_, Heaven grant I at once may free +Thee from thy pain, and keep my loyaltie: +_Shepherd_, look up. + +_The_. Thy brightness doth amaze! +So _Phoebus_ may at noon bid mortals gaze, +Thy glorious constancie appears so bright, +I dare not meet the Beams with my weak sight. + +_Clor_. Why dost thou pine away thy self for me? + +_The_. Why dost thou keep such spotless constancie? + +_Clor_. Thou holy _Shepherd_, see what for thy sake +_Clorin_, thy _Clorin_, now dare under take. [_He starts up_. + +_The_. Stay there, thou constant _Clorin_, if there be +Yet any part of woman left in thee, +To make thee light: think yet before thou speak. + +_Clor_. See what a holy vow for thee I break. +I that already have my fame far spread +For being constant to my lover dead. + +_The_. Think yet, dear _Clorin_, of your love, how true, +If you had dyed, he would have been to you. + +_Clor_. Yet all I'le lose for thee. + +_The_. Think but how blest +A constant woman is above the rest. + +_Clor_. And offer up my self, here on this ground, +To be dispos'd by thee. + +_The_. Why dost thou wound +His heart with malice, against woman more, +That hated all the Sex, but thee before? +How much more pleasant had it been to me +To dye, than to behold this change in thee? +Yet, yet, return, let not the woman sway. + +_Clor_. Insult not on her now, nor use delay, +Who for thy sake hath ventur'd all her fame. + +_The_. Thou hast not ventur'd, but bought certain shame, +Your Sexes curse, foul falshood must and shall, +I see, once in your lives, light on you all. +I hate thee now: yet turn. + +_Clor_. Be just to me: +Shall I at once both lose my fame and thee? + +_The_. Thou hadst no fame, that which thou didst like good, +Was but thy appetite that sway'd thy blood +For that time to the best: for as a blast +That through a house comes, usually doth cast +Things out of order, yet by chance may come, +And blow some one thing to his proper room; +So did thy appetite, and not thy zeal, +Sway thee [by] chance to doe some one thing well. +Yet turn. + +_Clor_. Thou dost but try me if I would +Forsake thy dear imbraces, for my old +Love's, though he were alive: but do not fear. + +_The_. I do contemn thee now, and dare come near, +And gaze upon thee; for me thinks that grace, +Austeritie, which sate upon that face +Is gone, and thou like others: false maid see, +This is the gain of foul inconstancie. [_Exit_. + +_Clor_. 'Tis done, great _Pan_ I give thee thanks for it, +What art could not have heal'd, is cur'd by wit. + +_Enter_ Thenot, _again_. + +_The_. Will ye be constant yet? will ye remove +Into the Cabin to your buried Love? + +_Clor_. No let me die, but by thy side remain. + +_The_. There's none shall know that thou didst ever stain +Thy worthy strictness, but shall honour'd be, +And I will lye again under this tree, +And pine and dye for thee with more delight, +Than I have sorrow now to know the light. + +_Clor_. Let me have thee, and I'le be where thou wilt. + +_The_. Thou art of womens race, and full of guilt. +Farewel all hope of that Sex, whilst I thought +There was one good, I fear'd to find one naught: +But since their minds I all alike espie, +Henceforth I'le choose as others, by mine eye. + +_Clor_. Blest be ye powers that give such quick redress, +And for my labours sent so good success. +I rather choose, though I a woman be, +He should speak ill of all, than die for me. + + + + +_Actus Quintus. Scena Prima_. + + +_Enter_ Priest, _and old_ Shepherd. + +_Priest_. Shepherds, rise and shake off sleep, +See the blushing Morn doth peep +Through the window, whilst the Sun +To the mountain tops is run, +Gilding all the Vales below +With his rising flames, which grow +Greater by his climbing still. +Up ye lazie grooms, and fill +Bagg and Bottle for the field; +Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield +To the bitter North-east wind. +Call the Maidens up, and find +Who lay longest, that she may +Goe without a friend all day; +Then reward your Dogs, and pray +_Pan_ to keep you from decay: +So unfold and then away. +What not a Shepherd stirring? sure the grooms +Have found their beds too easie, or the rooms +Fill'd with such new delight, and heat, that they +Have both forgot their hungry sheep, and day; +Knock, that they may remember what a shame +Sloath and neglect layes on a Shepherds name. + +_Old Shep_. It is to little purpose, not a swain +This night hath known his lodging here, or lain +Within these cotes: the woods, or some near town, +That is a neighbour to the bordering Down, +Hath drawn them thither, 'bout some lustie sport, +Or spiced Wassel-Boul, to which resort +All the young men and maids of many a cote, +Whilst the trim Minstrel strikes his merry note. + +_Priest_. God pardon sin, show me the way that leads +To any of their haunts. + +_Old Shep_. This to the meads, +And that down to the woods. + +_Priest_. Then this for me; +Come Shepherd let me crave your companie. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Clorin, _in her Cabin_, Alexis, _with her_. + +_Clor_. Now your thoughts are almost pure, +And your wound begins to cure: +Strive to banish all that's vain, +Lest it should break out again. + +_Alex_. Eternal thanks to thee, thou holy maid: +I find my former wandring thoughts well staid +Through thy wise precepts, and my outward pain +By thy choice herbs is almost gone again: +Thy sexes vice and vertue are reveal'd +At once, for what one hurt, another heal'd. + +_Clor_. May thy grief more appease, +Relapses are the worst disease. +Take heed how you in thought offend, +So mind and body both will mend. + +_Enter_ Satyr, _with_ Amoret. + +_Amo_. Beest thou the wildest creature of the wood, +That bearst me thus away, drown'd in my blood, +And dying, know I cannot injur'd be, +I am a maid, let that name fight for me. + +_Satyr_. Fairest Virgin do not fear +Me, that do thy body bear, +Not to hurt, but heal'd to be; +Men are ruder far than we. +See fair _Goddess_ in the wood, +They have let out yet more blood. +Some savage man hath struck her breast +So soft and white, that no wild beast +Durst ha' toucht asleep, or wake: +So sweet, that _Adder, Newte_, or _Snake_, +Would have lain from arm to arm, +On her bosom to be warm +All a night, and being hot, +Gone away and stung her not. +Quickly clap herbs to her breast; +A man sure is a kind of beast. + +_Clor_. With spotless hand, on spotless brest +I put these herbs to give thee rest: +Which till it heal thee, will abide, +If both be pure, if not, off slide. +See it falls off from the wound, +Shepherdess thou art not sound, +Full of lust. + +_Satyr_, Who would have thought it, +So fair a face? + +_Clor_. Why that hath brought it. + +_Amo_. For ought I know or think, these words, my last: +Yet _Pan_ so help me as my thoughts are chast. + +_Clor_. And so may _Pan_ bless this my cure, +As all my thoughts are just and pure; +Some uncleanness nigh doth lurk, +That will not let my Medicines work. +_Satyr_ search if thou canst find it. + +_Satyr_. Here away methinks I wind it, +Stronger yet: Oh here they be, +Here, here, in a hollow tree, +Two fond mortals have I found. + +_Clor_. Bring them out, they are unsound. + +_Enter_ Cloe, _and_ Daphnis. + +_Satyr_. By the fingers thus I wring ye, +To my _Goddess_ thus I bring ye; +Strife is vain, come gently in, +I scented them, they're full of sin. + +_Clor_. Hold _Satyr_, take this Glass, +Sprinkle over all the place, +Purge the Air from lustfull breath, +To save this Shepherdess from death, +And stand you still whilst I do dress +Her wound for fear the pain encrease. + +_Sat_. From this glass I throw a drop +Of Crystal water on the top +Of every grass, on flowers a pair: +Send a fume and keep the air +Pure and wholsom, sweet and blest, +Till this Virgins wound be drest. + +_Clor. Satyr_, help to bring her in. + +_Sat_. By _Pan_, I think she hath no sin, +She is so light: lye on these leaves. +Sleep that mortal sense deceives, +Crown thine Eyes, and ease thy pain, +Maist thou soon be well again. + +_Clor. Satyr_, bring the Shepherd near, +Try him if his mind be clear. + +_Sat_. Shepherd come. + +_Daph_. My thoughts are pure. + +_Sat_. The better trial to endure. + +_Clor_. In this flame his finger thrust, +Which will burn him if he lust; +But if not, away will turn, +As loth unspotted flesh to burn: +See, it gives back, let him go, +Farewel mortal, keep thee so. + +_Sat_. Stay fair _Nymph_, flye not so fast, +We must try if you be chaste: +Here's a hand that quakes for fear, +Sure she will not prove so clear. + +_Clor._ Hold her finger to the flame, +That will yield her praise or shame. + +_Sat._ To her doom she dares not stand, +But plucks away her tender hand, +And the Taper darting sends +His hot beams at her fingers ends: +O thou art foul within, and hast +A mind, if nothing else, unchaste. + +_Alex._ Is not that _Cloe?_ 'tis my Love, 'tis she! +_Cloe_, fair _Cloe_. + +_Clo._ My Alexis. + +_Alex._ He. + +_Clo._ Let me embrace thee. + +_Clor._ Take her hence, +Lest her sight disturb his sence. + +_Alex._ Take not her, take my life first. + +_Clor._ See, his wound again is burst: +Keep her near, here in the Wood, +Till I ha' stopt these Streams of Blood. +Soon again he ease shall find, +If I can but still his mind: +This Curtain thus I do display, +To keep the piercing air away. + +_Enter_ old Shepherd, _and_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Sure they are lost for ever; 'tis in vain +To find 'em out with trouble and much pain, +That have a ripe desire, and forward will +To flye the Company of all but ill, +What shall be counsel'd now? shall we retire? +Or constant follow still that first desire +We had to find them? + +_Old_. Stay a little while; +For if the Morning mist do not beguile +My sight with shadows, sure I see a Swain; +One of this jolly Troop's come back again. + +_Enter_ Thenot. + +_Pri._ Dost thou not blush young Shepherd to be known, +Thus without care, leaving thy flocks alone, +And following what desire and present blood +Shapes out before thy burning sense, for good, +Having forgot what tongue hereafter may +Tell to the World thy falling off, and say +Thou art regardless both of good and shame, +Spurning at Vertue, and a vertuous Name, +And like a glorious, desperate man that buys +A poyson of much price, by which he dies, +Dost thou lay out for Lust, whose only gain +Is foul disease, with present age and pain, +And then a Grave? These be the fruits that grow +In such hot Veins that only beat to know +Where they may take most ease, and grow ambitious +Through their own wanton fire, and pride delicious. + +_The_. Right holy Sir, I have not known this night, +What the smooth face of Mirth was, or the sight +Of any looseness; musick, joy, and ease, +Have been to me as bitter drugs to please +A Stomach lost with weakness, not a game +That I am skill'd at throughly; nor a Dame, +Went her tongue smoother than the feet of Time, +Her beauty ever living like the Rime +Our blessed _Tityrus_ did sing of yore, +No, were she more enticing than the store +Of fruitful Summer, when the loaden Tree +Bids the faint Traveller be bold and free, +'Twere but to me like thunder 'gainst the bay, +Whose lightning may enclose but never stay +Upon his charmed branches; such am I +Against the catching flames of Womans eye. + +_Priest_. Then wherefore hast thou wandred? + +_The_. 'Twas a Vow +That drew me out last night, which I have now +Strictly perform'd, and homewards go to give +Fresh pasture to my Sheep, that they may live. + +_Pri_. 'Tis good to hear ye, Shepherd, if the heart +In this well sounding Musick bear his part. +Where have you left the rest? + +_The_. I have not seen, +Since yesternight we met upon this green +To fold our Flocks up, any of that train; +Yet have I walkt these Woods round, and have lain +All this same night under an aged Tree, +Yet neither wandring Shepherd did I see, +Or Shepherdess, or drew into mine ear +The sound of living thing, unless it were +The Nightingale among the thick leav'd spring +That sits alone in sorrow, and doth sing +Whole nights away in mourning, or the Owl, +Or our great enemy that still doth howl +Against the Moons cold beams. + +_Priest_. Go and beware +Of after falling. + +_The_. Father 'tis my care. [_Exit_ Thenot. + +_Enter_ Daphnis. + +_Old_. Here comes another Stragler, sure I see +A Shame in this young Shepherd. _Daphnis_! + +_Daph_. He. + +_Pri_. Where hast thou left the rest, that should have been +Long before this, grazing upon the green +Their yet imprison'd flocks? + +_Daph_. Thou holy man, +Give me a little breathing till I can +Be able to unfold what I have seen; +Such horrour that the like hath never been +Known to the ear of Shepherd: Oh my heart +Labours a double motion to impart +So heavy tidings! You all know the Bower +Where the chast _Clorin_ lives, by whose great power +Sick men and Cattel have been often cur'd, +There lovely _Amoret_ that was assur'd +To lusty _Perigot_, bleeds out her life, +Forc'd by some Iron hand and fatal knife; +And by her young _Alexis_. + +_Enter_ Amaryllis _running from her_ Sullen Shepherd. + +_Amar_. If there be +Ever a Neighbour Brook, or hollow tree, +Receive my Body, close me up from lust +That follows at my heels; be ever just, +Thou god of Shepherds, _Pan_, for her dear sake +That loves the Rivers brinks, and still doth shake +In cold remembrance of thy quick pursuit: +Let me be made a reed, and ever mute, +Nod to the waters fall, whilst every blast +Sings through my slender leaves that I was chast. + +_Pri_. This is a night of wonder, _Amaryll_ +Be comforted, the holy gods are still +Revengers of these wrongs. + +_Amar_. Thou blessed man, +Honour'd upon these plains, and lov'd of _Pan_, +Hear me, and save from endless infamie +My yet unblasted Flower, _Virginitie_: +By all the Garlands that have crown'd that head, +By the chaste office, and the Marriage bed +That still is blest by thee, by all the rights +Due to our gods; and by those Virgin lights +That burn before his Altar, let me not +Fall from my former state to gain the blot +That never shall be purg'd: I am not now +That wanton _Amaryllis_: here I vow +To Heaven, and thee grave Father, if I may +'Scape this unhappy Night, to know the Day, +To live a Virgin, never to endure +The tongues, or Company of men impure. +I hear him come, save me. + +_Pri_. Retire a while +Behind this Bush, till we have known that vile +Abuser of young Maidens. + +_Enter_ Sullen. + +_Sul_. Stay thy pace, +Most loved _Amaryllis_, let the Chase +Grow calm and milder, flye me not so fast, +I fear the pointed Brambles have unlac'd +Thy golden Buskins; turn again and see +Thy Shepherd follow, that is strong and free, +Able to give thee all content and ease. +I am not bashful, Virgin, I can please +At first encounter, hug thee in mine arm, +And give thee many Kisses, soft and warm +As those the Sun prints on the smiling Cheek +Of Plums, or mellow Peaches; I am sleek +And smooth as _Neptune_, when stern _Eolus_ +Locks up his surly Winds, and nimbly thus +Can shew my active Youth; why dost thou flye? +Remember _Amaryllis_, it was I +That kill'd _Alexis_ for thy sake, and set +An everlasting hate 'twixt _Amoret_ +And her beloved _Perigot_: 'twas I +That drown'd her in the Well, where she must lye +Till Time shall leave to be; then turn again, +Turn with thy open arms, and clip the Swain +That hath perform'd all this, turn, turn I say: +I must not be deluded. + +_Pri_. Monster stay, +Thou that art like a Canker to the State +Thou liv'st and breath'st in, eating with debate +Through every honest bosome, forcing still +The Veins of any that may serve thy Will, +Thou that hast offer'd with a sinful hand +To seize upon this Virgin that doth stand +Yet trembling here. + +_Sull_. Good holiness declare, +What had the danger been, if being bare +I had embrac'd her, tell me by your Art, +What coming wonders would that sight impart? + +_Pri_. Lust, and a branded Soul. + +_Sull_. Yet tell me more, +Hath not our Mother Nature for her store +And great encrease, said it is good and just, +And wills that every living Creature must +Beget his like? + +_Pri_. Ye are better read than I, +I must confess, in blood and Lechery. +Now to the Bower, and bring this Beast along, +Where he may suffer Penance for his wrong. [_Exeunt_. + +_Enter_ Perigot _with his hands bloody_. + +_Per_. Here will I wash it in this mornings dew, +Which she on every little grass doth strew +In silver drops against the Sun's appear: +'Tis holy water, and will make me clear. +My hands will not be cleans'd. My wronged Love, +If thy chaste spirit in the air yet move, +Look mildly down on him that yet doth stand +All full of guilt, thy blood upon his hand, +And though I struck thee undeservedly, +Let my revenge on her that injur'd thee +Make less a fault which I intended not, +And let these dew drops wash away my spot. +It will not cleanse. O to what sacred Flood +Shall I resort to wash away this blood? +Amid'st these Trees the holy _Clorin_ dwells +In a low Cabin of cut Boughs, and heals +All Wounds; to her I will my self address, +And my rash faults repentantly confess; +Perhaps she'll find a means by Art or Prayer, +To make my hand with chaste blood stained, fair: +That done, not far hence underneath some Tree, +I'll have a little Cabin built, since she +Whom I ador'd is dead, there will I give +My self to strictness, and like _Clorin_ live. [_Exit_. + +_The Curtain is drawn_, Clorin _appears sitting in the Cabin,_ Amoret +_sitting on the one side of her_, Alexis _and_ Cloe _on the other, the_ +Satyr _standing by._ + +_Clo_. Shepherd, once more your blood is staid, +Take example by this Maid, +Who is heal'd ere you be pure, +So hard it is lewd lust to cure. +Take heed then how you turn your eye +On each other lustfully: +And Shepherdess take heed lest you +Move his willing eye thereto; +Let no wring, nor pinch, nor smile +Of yours his weaker sense beguile. +Is your Love yet true and chaste, +And for ever so to last? + +_Alex_. I have forgot all vain desires, +All looser thoughts, ill tempred fires, +True Love I find a pleasant fume, +Whose moderate heat can ne'r consume. + +_Clo_. And I a new fire feel in me, +Whose chaste flame is not quencht to be. + +_Clor_. Join your hands with modest touch, +And for ever keep you such. + +_Enter_ Perigot. + +_Per_. Yon is her Cabin, thus far off I'll stand, +And call her forth; for my unhallowed hand +I dare not bring so near yon sacred place. +_Clorin_ come forth, and do a timely grace +To a poor Swain. + +_Clo_. What art thou that dost call? +_Clorin_ is ready to do good to all: +Come near. + +_Peri_. I dare not. + +_Clor. Satyr_, see +Who it is that calls on me. + +_Sat_. There at hand, some Swain doth stand, +Stretching out a bloudy hand. + +_Peri_. Come _Clorin_, bring thy holy waters clear, +To wash my hand. + +_Clo_. What wonders have been here +To night? stretch forth thy hand young Swain, +Wash and rub it whilest I rain +Holy water. + +_Peri_. Still you pour, +But my hand will never scower. + +_Clor. Satyr_, bring him to the Bower, +We will try the Soveraign power +Of other waters. + +_Satyr_. Mortal, sure +'Tis the Blood of Maiden pure +That stains thee so. + +[_The_ Satyr _leadeth him to the Bower, where he spieth_ Amoret, _and +kneeling down, she knoweth him_. + +_Peri_. What e're thou be, +Be'st thou her spright, or some divinitie, +That in her shape thinks good to walk this grove, +Pardon poor _Perigot_. + +_Amor_. I am thy love, +Thy _Amoret_, for evermore thy love: +Strike once more on my naked breast, I'le prove +As constant still. O couldst thou love me yet; +How soon should I my former griefs forget! + +_Peri_. So over-great with joy, that you live, now +I am, that no desire of knowing how +Doth seize me; hast thou still power to forgive? + +_Amo_. Whilest thou hast power to love, or I to live; +More welcome now than hadst thou never gone +Astray from me. + +_Peri_. And when thou lov'st alone +And not I, death, or some lingring pain +That's worse, light on me. + +_Clor_. Now your stain +This perhaps will cleanse again; +See the blood that erst did stay, +With the water drops away. +All the powers again are pleas'd, +And with this new knot appeas'd. +Joyn your hands, and rise together, +_Pan_ be blest that brought you hither. + +_Enter_ Priest, _and_ Old Shephe[rd]. + +_Clor_. Go back again what ere thou art, unless +Smooth Maiden thoughts possess thee, do not press +This hallowed ground. Go _Satyr_, take his hand, +And give him present trial. + +_Satyr_. Mortal stand, +Till by fire I have made known +Whether thou be such a one, +That mayst freely tread this place. +Hold thy hand up; never was +More untainted flesh than this. +Fairest, he is full of bliss. + +_Clor_. Then boldly speak, why dost thou seek this place? + +_Priest_. First, honour'd Virgin, to behold thy face +Where all good dwells that is: Next for to try +The truth of late report was given to me: +Those Shepherds that have met with foul mischance, +Through much neglect, and more ill governance, +Whether the wounds they have may yet endure +The open Air, or stay a longer cure. +And lastly, what the doom may be shall light +Upon those guilty wretches, through whose spight +All this confusion fell: For to this place, +Thou holy Maiden, have I brought the race +Of these offenders, who have freely told, +Both why, and by what means they gave this bold +Attempt upon their lives. + +_Clor_. Fume all the ground, +And sprinkle holy water, for unsound +And foul infection 'gins to fill the Air: +It gathers yet more strongly; take a pair +Of Censors fill'd with Frankincense and Mirrh, +Together with cold Camphyre: quickly stir +Thee, gentle _Satyr_, for the place begins +To sweat and labour with the abhorred sins +Of those offenders; let them not come nigh, +For full of itching flame and leprosie +Their very souls are, that the ground goes back, +And shrinks to feel the sullen weight of black +And so unheard of venome; hie thee fast +Thou holy man, and banish from the chast +These manlike monsters, let them never more +Be known upon these downs, but long before +The next Suns rising, put them from the sight +And memory of every honest wight. +Be quick in expedition, lest the sores +Of these weak Patients break into new gores. [_Ex_. Priest. + +_Per_. My dear, dear _Amoret_, how happy are +Those blessed pairs, in whom a little jar +Hath bred an everlasting love, too strong +For time, or steel, or envy to do wrong? +How do you feel your hurts? Alas poor heart, +How much I was abus'd; give me the smart +For it is justly mine. + +_Amo_. I do believe. +It is enough dear friend, leave off to grieve, +And let us once more in despight of ill +Give hands and hearts again. + +_Per_. With better will +Than e're I went to find in hottest day +Cool Crystal of the Fountain, to allay +My eager thirst: may this band never break. +Hear us O Heaven. + +_Amo_. Be constant. + +_Per_. Else _Pan_ wreak, +With [d]ouble vengeance, my disloyalty; +Let me not dare to know the company +Of men, or any more behold those eyes. + +_Amo_. Thus Shepherd with a kiss all envy dyes. + +_Enter_ Priest. + +_Priest_. Bright Maid, I have perform'd your will, the Swain +In whom such heat and black rebellions raign +Hath undergone your sentence, and disgrace: +Only the Maid I have reserv'd, whose face +Shews much amendment, many a tear doth fall +In sorrow of her fault, great fair recal +Your heavy doom, in hope of better daies, +Which I dare promise; once again upraise +Her heavy Spirit that near drowned lyes +In self consuming care that never dyes. + +_Clor_. I am content to pardon, call her in; +The Air grows cool again, and doth begin +To purge it self, how bright the day doth show +After this stormy Cloud! go _Satyr_, go, +And with this Taper boldly try her hand, +If she be pure and good, and firmly stand +To be so still, we have perform'd a work +Worthy the Gods themselves. [_Satyr brings_ Amaryllis _in_. + +_Satyr_. Come forward Maiden, do not lurk +Nor hide your face with grief and shame, +Now or never get a name +That may raise thee, and recure +All thy life that was impure: +Hold your hand unto the flame, +If thou beest a perfect dame, +Or hast truely vow'd to mend, +This pale fire will be thy friend. +See the Taper hurts her not. +Go thy wayes, let never spot +Henceforth seize upon thy blood. +Thank the Gods and still be good. + +_Clor_. Young Shepherdess now ye are brought again +To Virgin state, be so, and so remain +To thy last day, unless the faithful love +Of some good Shepherd force thee to remove; +Th[e]n labour to be true to him, and live +As such a one, that ever strives to give +A blessed memory to after time. +Be famous for your good, not for your crime. +Now holy man, I offer up again +These patients full of health, and free from pain: +Keep them from after ills, be ever near +Unto their actions, teach them how to clear +The tedious way they pass through, from suspect, +Keep them from wronging others, or neglect +Of duty in themselves, correct the bloud +With thrifty bits and labour, let the floud, +Or the next neighbouring spring give remedy +To greedy thirst, and travel not the tree +That hangs with wanton clusters, [let] not wine, +Unless in sacrifice, or rites divine, +Be ever known of Shepherd, have a care +Thou man of holy life. Now do not spare +Their faults through much remissness, nor forget +To cherish him, whose many pains and swet +Hath giv'n increase, and added to the downs. +Sort all your Shepherds from the lazy clowns +That feed their Heifers in the budded Brooms: +Teach the young Maidens strictness, that the grooms +May ever fear to tempt their blowing youth; +Banish all complements, but single truth +From every tongue, and every Shepherds heart, +Let them still use perswading, but no Art: +Thus holy _Priest_, I wish to thee and these, +All the best goods and comforts that may please. + +_Alex_. And all those blessings Heaven did ever give, +We pray upon this Bower may ever live. + +_Priest_. Kneel every Shepherd, whilest with powerful hand +I bless your after labours, and the Land +You feed your flocks upon. Great _Pan_ defend you +From misfortune, and amend you, +Keep you from those dangers still, +That are followed by your will, +Give ye means to know at length +All your riches, all your strength, +Cannot keep your foot from falling +To lewd lust, that still is calling +At your Cottage, till his power +Bring again that golden hour +Of peace and rest to every soul. +May his care of you controul +All diseases, sores or pain +That in after time may raign +Either in your flocks or you, +Give ye all affections new, +New desires, and tempers new, +That ye may be ever true. +Now rise and go, and as ye pass away +Sing to the God of Sheep, that happy lay, +That honest _Dorus_ taught ye, _Dorus_, he +That was the soul and god of melodie. + +The SONG. [_They all Sing + +All ye woods, and trees and bowers, +All you vertues and ye powers +That inhabit in the lakes, +In the pleasant springs or brakes, + Move your feet + To our sound, + Whilest we greet + All this ground, +With his honour and his name +That defends our flocks from blame. + +He is great, and he is Just, +He is ever good, and must +Thus be honour'd: Daffodillies, +Roses, Pinks, and loved Lillies, + Let us fling, + Whilest we sing, + Ever holy, + Ever holy, +Ever honoured ever young, +Thus great_ Pan _is ever sung. [Exeunt. + +Satyr._ Thou divinest, fairest, brightest, +Thou m[o]st powerful Maid, and whitest, +Thou most vertuous and most blessed, +Eyes of stars, and golden tressed +Like _Apollo_, tell me sweetest +What new service now is meetest +For the _Satyr_? shall I stray +In the middle Air, and stay +The sayling Rack, or nimbly take +Hold by the Moon, and gently make +Sute to the pale Queen of night +For a beam to give thee light? +Shall I dive into the Sea, +And bring thee Coral, making way +Through the rising waves that fall +In snowie fleeces; dearest, shall +I catch the wanton Fawns, or Flyes, +Whose woven wings the Summer dyes +Of many colours? get thee fruit? +Or steal from Heaven old _Orpheus_ Lute? +All these I'le venture for, and more, +To do her service all these woods adore. + +_Clor_. No other service, _Satyr_, but thy watch +About these thickets, lest harmless people catch +Mischief or sad mischance. + +_Satyr_. Holy Virgin, I will dance +Round about these woods as quick +As the breaking light, and prick +Down the Lawns, and down the vails +Faster than the Wind-mill sails. +So I take my leave, and pray +All the comforts of the day, +Such as _Phoebus_ heat doth send +On the earth, may still befriend +Thee, and this arbour. + +_Clo_. And to thee, +All thy Masters love be free. [_Exeunt_. + + + + + +_To my Friend Master_ JOHN FLETCHER _upon his Faithfull Shepherdess._ + +_I know too well, that, no more than the man +That travels through the burning Desarts, can +When he is beaten with the raging Sun, +Half smothered in the dust, have power to run +From a cool River, which himself doth find, +E're he be slacked; no more can he whose mind +Joyes in the Muses, hold from that delight, +When nature, and his full thoughts bid him write: +Yet wish I those whom I for friends have known, +To sing their thoughts to no ears but their own. +Why should the man, whose wit ne'r had a stain, +Upon the publick Stage present his [vein,] +And make a thousand men in judgment sit, +To call in question his undoubted wit, +Scarce two of which can understand the laws +Which they should judge by, nor the parties cause? +Among the rout there is not one that hath +In his own censure an explicite faith; +One company knowing they judgement lack, +Ground their belief on the next man in black: +Others, on him that makes signs, and is mute, +Some like as he does in the fairest sute, +He as his Mistress doth, and she by chance: +Nor want there those, who as the Boy doth dance +Between the Acts, will censure the whole Play; +Some if the Wax-lights be not new that day; +But multitudes there are whose judgement goes +Headlong according to the Actors cloathes. +For this, these publick things and I, agree +So ill, that but to do a right for thee, +I had not been perswaded to have hurl'd +These few, ill spoken lines, into the world, +Both to be read, and censur'd of, by those, +Whose very reading makes Verse senseless Prose: +Such as must spend above an hour, to spell +A Challenge on a Past, to know it well: +But since it was thy hap to throw away +Much wit, for which the people did not pay, +Because they saw it not, I not dislike +This second publication, which may strike +Their consciences, to see the thing they scorn'd, +To be with so much wit and Art adorned. +Besides one vantage more in this I see, +Tour censurers now must have the qualitie +Of reading, which I am afraid is more +Than half your shrewdest Judges had before._ + +Fr. Beaumont. + + + + +_To the worthy Author_ M'r. Jo. FLETCHER. + +_The wise, and many headed_ Bench, _that sits +Upon the Life, and Death of_ Playes, _and_ Wits, +(_Composed of_ Gamester, Captain, Knight, Knight's man, +Lady, _or_ Pusill, _that wears mask or fan_, +Velvet, _or_ Taffata _cap, rank'd in the dark +With the shops_ Foreman, _or some such_ brave spark, +_That may judge for his_ six-pence_) had, before +They saw it half, damn'd thy whole Play, and more, +Their motives were, since it had not to doe +With vices, which they look'd for, and came to. + +I, that am glad, thy Innocence was thy Guilt, +And wish that all the_ Muses _blood were spilt +In such a_ Martyrdome, _to vex their eyes, +Do crown thy murdred_ Poeme: _which shall rise +A glorified work to Time, when Fire, +Or mothes shall eat, what all these Fools admire._ + + +BEN. JONSON. + + + + +This Dialogue newly added, was spoken by way of Prologue to both their +Majesties, at the first acting of this Pastoral at _Somerset-house_ on +Twelfth-night, 1633. + +Priest. + +_A broiling Lamb on_ Pans _chief Altar lies, +My Wreath, my Censor, Virge, and Incense by: +But I delayed the pretious Sacrifice, +To shew thee here, a Gentle Deity._ + +Nymph. + +_Nor was I to thy sacred Summons slow, +Hither I came as swift as th' Eagles wing, +Or threatning shaft from vext_ Dianaes _bow, +To see this Islands God; the worlds best King._ + +Priest. + +_Bless then that Queen, that doth his eyes invite +And ears, t'obey her Scepter, half this night._ + +Nymph. + +_Let's sing such welcomes, as shall make Her sway +Seem easie to Him, though it last till day. + +Welcom as Peace t'unwalled Cities, when +Famine and Sword leave them more graves than men. +As Spring to Birds, or Noon-dayes Sun to th' old +Poor mountain Muscovite congeal'd with cold. +As Shore toth' Pilot in a safe known Coast +When's Card is broken and his Rudder lost. + + + + +APPENDIX + + + +p. 369, +l. 2. C] Antiochus +l. 10. C _omits_] have. +l. 12. C _omits] Princes. B _misprints] Prnices. +l. 17. C _gives this line to_ Sel. +l. 35. A] Cel. +l. 40. C] I once more next [_instead of_ beg it thus]. + +p. 370, +l. 9. C] sound. +l. 10. C] beat through. +l. 16. C _adds_] Finis. C _omits] Prologue _and_ Epilogue. + +p. 371, +l. 1. A] And those. +l. 6. A _omits_] Spoke by the _Lieutenant_. + + + + +THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS. + +(A) The | Faithfull | Shepheardesse. By John Fletcher. | Printed at +London for R. Bonian | and H. Walley, and are to be sold at | the spred +Eagle over against the | great North dore of S. Paules. Undated, but +probably 1609-10. + +(B) The same, with slight differences in the Commendatory Verses and in +one or two other sheets. + +(C) The | Faithfull | Shepheardesse. | By John Fletcher. | The second +Edition, newly corrected. London, | Printed by T.C. for Richard Meighen, +in St Dunstanes Church-yard in Fleet-streete, | 1629. + +(D) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | acted at Somerset | House before the +King and | Queene on Twelfe night | last, 1633. | And divers times since +with great ap-| plause at the Private House in Blacke-| Friers, by his +Majesties Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The third Edition, with +Addition. | London, | Printed by A.M. for Richard Meighen, next | to the +Middle Temple in Fleet-| street. 1634. + +(E) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | Acted at Somerset | House, before +the King and | Queen on Twelf night | last, 1633. | And divers times +since, with great ap- | plause, at the Private House in Black-| Friers, by +his Majesties Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The Fourth Edition. +| London, Printed for Ga. Bedell and Tho. Collins, at the Middle | Temple +Gate in Fleet-street. 1656. + +(F) The | Faithfull | Shepherdesse. | Acted at | Somerset-House, | Before +the King and Queen on Twelfth Night, 1633. | And divers times since, with +great | Applause, at the Private House in | Black-Friers, by his Majesties +| Servants. | Written by John Fletcher. | The Fifth Edition. | London, | +Printed for G. Bedell and T. Collins, at the Middle | Temple-Gate in +Fleet-street, 1665. + +The verso of the title-page bears the date March 3, 166-4/5. +Licensed, +Roger L'Estrange. + +As neither the Second Folio nor the Quartos print any list of the +Characters it may be as well to give one here. + +Perigot. Old Shepherd. +Thenot Priest of Pan. +Daphnis. God of the River. +Alexis. Satyr. +Sullen Shepherd. Shepherds. +Clorin. Cloe. +Amoret. Shepherdesses. +Amarillis. + +Scene: Thessaly. + +The following Dedicatory Verses were omitted from the Second Folio. + +_To my lov'd friend M. John Fletcher, on his Pastorall_. + +Can my approovement (Sir) be worth your thankes? +Whose unkn[o]wne name and muse (in swathing clowtes) +Is not yet growne to strength, among these rankes +To have a roome and beare off the sharpe flowtes +Of this our pregnant age, that does despise +All innocent verse, that lets alone her vice. + +But I must Justifie what privately, +I censurd to you: my ambition is +(Even by my hopes and love to Poesie) +To live to perfect such a worke, as this, +Clad in such elegant proprietie +Of words, including a mortallitie. + +So sweete and profitable, though each man that heares, +(And learning has enough to clap and hisse) +Arives not too't, so misty it appeares; +And to their fi1med reasons, so amisse: +But let Art looke in truth, she like a mirror, +Reflects [Reflect, C, D] her comfort [consort, D--F], ignorances terror. + +Sits in her owne brow, being made afraid, +Of her unnaturall complexion, +As ougly women (when they are araid +By glasses) loath their true reflection, +Then how can such opinions injure thee, +That tremble, at their owne deformitie? + +Opinion, that great foole, makes fooles of all, +And (once) I feard her till I met a minde +Whose grave instructions philosophical), +Toss'd it [is, F] like dust upon a march strong winde, +He shall for ever my example be, +And his embraced doctrine grow in me. + +His soule (and such commend this) that commaund [commands, D, E, F] +Such art, it should me better satisfie, +Then if the monster clapt his thousand hands, +And drownd the sceane with his confused cry; +And if doubts rise, loe their owne names to cleare 'em +Whilst I am happy but to stand so neere 'em. + +N. F. + +These verses are in A, B, C, D, E and F. In A and B they are signed 'N. +F.,' in C-F they are signed 'Nath. Field.' The above text is that of A. + + + + +To his loving friend M. _Jo. Fletcher_ +concerning his Pastorall, being +both a Poeme and a play: +[concerning...play _omitted in_ D, E, F] + + +There are no suerties (good friend) will be taken +For workes that vulgar-good-name hath forsaken: +A Poeme and a play too! why tis like +A scholler that's a Poet: their names strike +Their pestilence inward, when they take the aire; +And kill out right: one cannot both fates beare. +But, as a Poet thats no scholler, makes +Vulgarity his whiffler, and so takes +with ease, & state through both sides prease +Of Pageant seers: or as schollers please +That are no Poets; more then Poets learnd; +Since their art solely, is by soules discerned; +The others fals [fall, D, E, F] within the common sence +And sheds (like common light) her influence: +So, were your play no Poeme, but a thing +That every Cobler to his patch might sing: +A rout of nifles (like the multitude) +With no one limme [limbe, E, F] of any art indude: +Like would to like, and praise you: but because, +Your poeme onely hath by us applause, +Renews the golden world; and holds through all +The holy lawes of homely pastorall; +Where flowers, and founts, and Nimphs, & semi-Gods, +And all the Graces finde their old abods: +Where forrests flourish but in endlesse verse; +And meddowes, nothing fit for purchasers: +This Iron age that eates it selfe, will never +Bite at your golden world; that others, ever +Lov'd as it selfe: then like your Booke do you +Live in ould peace: and that for praise allow. + +G. Chapman + + + +These lines are in A, C, D, E and F. The text is that of A. + +_To that noble and true lover of learning_, +Sir Walter Aston Knight +_of the Balls_. + +Sir I must aske your patience, and be trew. +This play was never liked, unlesse by few +That brought their judgements with um, for of late +First the infection, then the common prate +Of common people, have such customes got +Either to silence plaies, or like them not. +Under the last of which this interlude, +Had falne for ever prest downe by the rude +That like a torrent which the moist south feedes, +Drowne's both before him the ripe corne and weedes. +Had not the saving sence of better men +Redeem'd it from corruption: (deere Sir then) +Among the better soules, be you the best +In whome, as in a Center I take rest, +And propper being: from whose equall eye +And judgement, nothing growes but puritie: +(Nor do I flatter) for by all those dead, +Great in the muses, by _Apolloes_ head, +He that ads any thing to you; tis done +Like his that lights a candle to the sunne: +Then be as you were ever, your selfe still +Moved by your judement, not by love, or will +And when I sing againe as who can tell +My next devotion to that holy well, +Your goodnesse to the muses shall be all, +Able to make a worke Heroyicall. + +_Given to your service_ +John Fletcher. + + + +These lines are in A and B. + +To the inheritour of all worthines, +_Sir William Scipwith. +Ode._ + +If from servile hope or love, + I may prove +But so happy to be thought for +Such a one whose greatest ease + Is to please +(Worthy sir) I have all I sought for, + +For no ich of greater name, + which some clame +By their verses do I show it +To the world; nor to protest + Tis the best +These are leane faults in a poet + +Nor to make it serve to feed + at my neede +Nor to gaine acquaintance by it +Nor to ravish kinde Atturnies, + in their journies. +Nor to read it after diet + +Farre from me are all these Ames + Fittest frames +To build weakenesse on and pitty +Onely to your selfe, and such + whose true touch +Makes all good; let me seeme witty. + + +_The Admirer of your vertues_, +John Fletcher. + + + +These verses are in A and B. + +_To the perfect gentleman Sir_ +Robert Townesend. + +If the greatest faults may crave +Pardon where contrition is +(Noble Sir) I needes must have +A long one; for a long amisse +If you aske me (how is this) +Upon my faith Ile tell you frankely, +You love above my meanes to thanke yee. +Yet according to my Talent +As sowre fortune loves to use me +A poore Shepheard I have sent, +In home-spun gray for to excuse me. +And may all my hopes refuse me: +But when better comes ashore, +You shall have better, newer, more. +Til when, like our desperate debters, +Or our three pild sweete protesters +I must please you in bare letters +And so pay my debts; like jesters, +Yet I oft have seene good feasters, +Onely for to please the pallet, +Leave great meat and chuse a sallet. + +_All yours_ John Fletcher: + + + + +These lines are in A and B. + +To the Reader. + +If you be not reasonably assurde of your knowledge in this kinde of Poeme, +lay downe the booke or read this, which I would wish had bene the +prologue. It is a pastorall Tragic-comedie, which the people seeing when +it was plaid, having ever had a singuler guift in defining, concluded to +be a play of contry hired Shepheards, in gray cloakes, with curtaild dogs +in strings, sometimes laughing together, and sometimes killing one +another: And misling whitsun ales, creame, wasiel & morris-dances, began +to be angry. In their error I would not have you fall, least you incurre +their censure. Understand therefore a pastorall to be a representation of +shepheards and shephearddesses, with their actions and passions, which +must be such as may agree with their natures at least not exceeding former +fictions, & vulgar traditions: they are not to be adorn'd with any art, +but such improper ones as nature is said to bestow, as singing and Poetry, +or such as experience may teach them, as the vertues of hearbs, & +fountaines: the ordinary course of the Sun, moone, and starres, and +such like. But you are ever to remember Shepherds to be such, as all the +ancient Poets and moderne of understanding have receaved them: that is, +the owners of flockes and not hyerlings. A tragie-comedie is not so called +in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is +inough to make it no tragedie, yet brings some neere it, which is inough +to make it no comedie: which must be a representation of familiar people, +with such kinde of trouble as no life be questiond, so that a God is as +lawfull in this as in a tragedie, and meane people as in a comedie. This +much I hope will serve to justifie my Poeme, and make you understand it, +to teach you more for nothing, I do not know that I am in conscience +bound. + +_John Fletcher_. + + + + +This address is in A and B. + + +Unto his worthy friend Mr _Joseph Taylor_ +upon his presentment of the _Faithfull Sheperdesse +before the King and Queene, at White-hall, on +Twelfth night_ [F _stops here_] _last_. 1633. + + +When this smooth Pastorall was first brought forth, +The Age twas borne in, did not know it's worth. +Since by thy cost, and industry reviv'd, +It hath a new fame, and new birth atchiv'd. +Happy in that shee found in her distresse, +A friend, as faithfull, as her Shepherdesse. +For having cur'd her from her courser rents, +And deckt her new with fresh habiliments, +Thou brought'st her to the Court, and made [mad'st, F] her be +A fitting spectacle for Majestie. +So have I seene a clowded beauty drest +In a rich vesture, shine above the rest. +Yet did it not receive more honour from +The glorious pompe, then thine owne action. +Expect no satisfaction for the same, +Poets can render no reward but Fame. +Yet this Ile prophesie, when thou shall come +Into the confines of _Elysium_ +Amidst the Quire of Muses, and the lists +Of famous Actors, and quicke Dramatists, +So much admir'd for gesture, and for wit, +That there on Seats of living Marble sit, +The blessed Consort of that numerous Traine, +Shall rise with an applause to [and, E and F] entertaine +Thy happy welcome, causing thee sit downe, +And with a Lawrell-wreath thy temples crowne. +And mean time, while this Poeme shall be read, +_Taylor_, thy name shall be eternized. +For it is just, that thou, who first did'st give +Unto this booke a life, by it shouldst live. + +Shack. Marmyon. + + +These lines are in D, E and F. The text is that of D. The variations in +the dedicatory verses printed in the Second Folio will be found on p. 523. + +p. 372, +l. 3. A-F] Actus Primi. +l. 13. A and B _omit_] jolly. C _some copies_] merry games. +l. 15. A, B and D] brows be girt. + +p. 373, +l. 6. A and B] That I will I. +l. 19. F _misprints_] fair heap. + +P-375, +l. 12. A and B] these Groves. +l. 17. A and B] mires. A and B _omit_] to find my ruine. +l. 27. A-F _omit_] him. +l. 29. C and D] have gone this. +l. 30. A-F] his rights. +l. 33. 2nd Folio _misprints_] yours. + +p. 376, +l. 10. A-D] livers. + +P. 377, +l. 13. A and B] fall speedily. +l. 14. A-D] let me goe. +l. 21. A-F] seaman. +l. 22. A and B] than the straightest. + +p. 378, +l. 19. A and B] our soules. +l. 40. C] The gentle. + +p. 379, +l. 11. A and B] a wild. +l. 18. A and B] _Enter an other Shepheardesse that is in love with +Perigot_. + +p. 381, +l. 4. 2nd Folio _misprints_] ever. +l. 11. A, B and F] their weaning. +l. 18. A and B] _Enter Sullen._ F] _Enter sullen_ Shepherd. +l. 19. A, B and F _for Shep, (character) read] Sul._ +l. 37. A-C _omit character] Shep_. D-F _print] Sull_. + +p. 382, +l. 8. A-F _for Shep.] Sul_. +l. 25. 2nd Folio] sufficient, great to. +l. 26. F] eye. +l. 28. A and B] has foile enough. +l. 38. A-F] dares. + +p. 383, +l. 5. A-D _omit_] likewise. C] ayre is fresh. +l. 10. A-C] are grown. A-D] Woodbines. +l. 26. A-D] eare of Maid. E and F] eare of maids. +l. 27. C and D] I love. +l. 29. A] so sure a Mold. B-F] so sure the Molde. + +p. 384, +l. 7. A-F] whose words. +l. 13. 2nd Folio] dost, + +p, 385, +l. 2. A-C] hee is here. + +p. 386, +l. 21. A and B] grief and tine. +l. 30. A-C] raine. +l. 35. A-D] swains more meeter. +l. 36. A and B] Than these. +l. 38. A-D] Hide. + +p. 387, +l. 3. A-D] hath been. +l. 7. F] _Titans_. + +p. 388, +l. 3. A-D] lowde falling. +l. 21. A] his walkes keep. +l. 32. F _omits_] great. +l. 34. A] high birth. +l. 36. A] born a most. + +p. 389, +l. 1. A] did lop. +l. 2. A] told me. +l. 6. A] teeth. +l. 8. A _omits_] fast. +l. 14. A] Formentill. +l. 16. A-F] roote. A-D and F] swellings best. +l. 31. A] wanton forces. +l. 39. A] and with joy. + +p. 390, +l. 1. A] Enter Shepheard. +l. 2. A] _Shep_. and so throughout. +l. 10. A] make. +l. 15. A and C] you blessed. +l. 16. A] brightly. +l. 19. A] That stiled is the. +l. 36. A-C] into a stround. + +p. 391, +l. 1. C] eies. +l. 14. C] Thy way. +l. 16. 2nd Folio _misprints_] Chor. +l. 24. A _omits_] Then. (_char_.). +l. 30. A] flame. + +p. 392, +l. 4. A] _Orions_. +l. 5. A-D] woven. +l. 6. A-C] unfould. +l. 7. A] The errant soul. A-D] not the true. +l. 9. A] _Alpen_. +l. 13. A] you do keep. +l. 14. E] that are begotten. +l. 30. A-C] for their. +l. 31. A and B] To seat them. + +p. 393, +l. 3. A-D] Doe, and let. +l. 6. A-C _omit_] that here. D _omits_] that. +l. 9. A-F] mourning. A-F] Ewe. +l. 18. A, B and D] For never did. +l. 21. 2nd Folio _misprints_] then. +l. 23. A-D] Shootes. +l. 26. A and B] And present. +l. 31. 2nd Folio _misprints_] maiden. +l. 35. A-D] highly praise. + +p. 394, +l. 4. C] ne're knit that eye. +l. 17. C] her shame. +l. 30. A-F] As grinnes. +l. 31. A] at Conies, Squirrels. + +P. 395, +l. 1. A-F] stronger way. +l. 26. A and B] dipt over. + +p. 396, +l. 8. A and B _insert before Enter Daphnis_] Actus secundus Scena quarta. +l. 14. A-D] thy Shepherds. +l. 19. A and B] My flame. +l. 34. 2nd Folio _misprints_] blesseds. +l. 35. A-F _insert_ Enter Alexis _after_ l. 36. + +p. 397, +l. 10. A-D] those. +l. 16. A and B] hold her. +l. 20. A-C] though with. + +p. 399, +l. 2. A-F] These rights. +l. 17. A-C] Enter the. +l. 27. C] the feet. + +p. 400, +l. 21. A-C] _She awaketh_. +l. 23. A-F] Magick right. +l. 27. A and B] thus reformd thee. +l. 31. C and D _omit_] that. + +p. 401, +l. 6. A and C] moone beams. +l. 7. A-D and F] true shape. +l. 13. C] your sacred. +l. 24. A, D and F] she hath got. +l. 37. A-F] of Lyon. A and B] or of Bear. + +p. 402, +l. 22. A and B] Ile followe, and for this thy care of me. + C _omits the line_. +l. 27. A-F] with a. + +p. 403, +l. 29. A-E] never thou shalt move. + +p. 404, +l. 33. A and B _read_] _Alex._ Oh! + _Sat._ Speake againe thou mortall wight. +l. 34. A and B _omit_] _Sat._ + +p. 405, +l. 3. A-C] beheld you shaggy. +l. 17. A and B] O stray. +l. 25. A-F] Who I did. +l. 29. A-C] _Enter the_. + +p. 406, +l. 2. A and B] _of a_ Amoret. +l. 3. A and B] But all these. +l. 29. A and B] swear, Beloved _Perigot_. +l. 37. A-D] then that young. + +p. 407, +l. 4. A and B] How should. +l. 11. C] take my _Amoret_. +l. 30. A and B _read_] div'd art, art not. +l. 36. F] still as. +l. 37. C] Though others shows. +l. 38. C] and rest my. + +p. 408, +l. 18. A and B _omit_] _in her own shape_. +l. 26. A and B _omit_] Ama. +l. 28. A and B _add_ Amoret _after_ path. + +p. 409, +l. 17. A-D] _He flings her_. + +p. 410, +l. 4. A and B] locke. +l. 11. F] bank. + +p. 411, +l. 9. A-C] silver string. + +p. 412, +l. 2. E] Leave there gravel. +l. 20. A-F _add_] Exit. +l. 22. A and B _add_] _Finis Actus Tertis_. +l. 23. A and B _omit_] _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._ +l. 34. A and B] Perigot _to Enter_. Amaryllis, _running_. + +p. 413, +l. 2. A-F] heavy Clowdes. +l. 18. A-C] of his breath. + +p. 414, +l. 35. A-D] happy bower. + +p. 415, +l. 7. A-F] Will undo his. +l. 10. A-F] holy rights. +l. 11. A-D] the feared. +l. 22. A and B] the Gwomes. +l. 35. A and B] thie wound. C] thy wound. + +p. 416, +l. 20. A--D] Now a gapes. +l. 31. A--F] to this destiny. + +p. 417, +l. 1. A-D] not possible. +l. 2. A and B] all heates, desires. +l. 3. A-F] thoughts. +l. 9. A and B] Playsters. + +p. 418, +l. 1. A and B] To deserve the. +l. 11. A-C] sought it. +l. 13. A-C] or shade. +l. 15. A-C] but I. + +p. 419, +l. 7. A and B] imagination. +l. 26. 2nd Folio _misprints_] thy and. +l. 30. A and B _omit_] _Exit_ Amoret. + +p. 420, +l. 26. A-D] thy lazy. +l. 36. A-D] _looking of_ Perigot. + +p. 421, +l. 2. A and B omit] art. E, F and 2nd Folio] thou darest. +l. 12. A-F] Ribandes. +l. 14. A-C _omit_] the. +l. 17. A and B] those too little. +l. 28. C] a fact so. +l. 30. A and B] Came flowing. C] Come flying. + +p. 422, +l. 10. A and B] men, most. +l. 12. F] thy vows. l. 13. 2nd Folio] help. +l. 17. A-F] till Crosse fate. +l. 26. C] seeks. +l. 30. A and B _omit_] _Per_. + +p. 423, +l. 14. A and B] esteeme. + +p. 424, +l. 11. A and B] denye. +l. 18. C] sent my gloves. +l. 26. A and B] bread. + +p. 425, +l. 1. A-C] light shutts like. +l. 23. A-D] vild. + +p. 426, +l. 5. 2nd Folio] beings. + +p. 427, +l. 10. A-C _omit_] to. +l. 19. A-C] once loose both my. +l. 27. 2nd Folio _misprints_] be. +l. 36. A and B] Inconstance. + +p. 428, +l. 6. A-D] shalt. +l. 9. A-D] know thee light. +l. 16. A-D] that gave such. +l. 19. A and B _add_] _Finis Actus quartus_. +l. 24. A-D] windowes. + +p. 429, +l. 14. A-C] coate. +l. 22. A-D _add_] _and Amarillis_. +l. 31. C] sexes voice and. + +p. 430, +l. 5. A-F] that doth thy. +l. 6. A and B] but held to. +l. 12. A-F] Durst a toucht. +l. 22. A-C] will bide. + +p. 432, +l. 33. A-F] mornings. + +p. 433, +l. 39. A and B _omit_] _The_. + +p. 434, +l. 2. C-F] those. +l. 3. A and B] this long night. C _omits_] same. +l. 5. C] eares. +l. 12. F _omits_] and. +l. 19. A-C _omit_] thou. + +p. 435, +l. 7. F] I am. +l. 16. A-F] thy chaste. +l. 18. A-F] God. +l. 25. A--D _omit_] To live. A-C] never after to. + +p. 436, +l. 3. A and C] thy smiling. +l. 21. A and B] any men may. +l. 29. A-C omit] a. +l. 33. A and B] willd. C] will. +l. 38. A-C _omit_] _Exeunt_. + +p. 437, +l. 1. A-F] hand. +l. 2. A and B] in the mornings. +l. 6. A-F] hand. +l. 34. A-D] On these other. + +p. 438, +l. 7. A-D] Whose base end is. +l. 22. A and B] Thers a hand. C] Thers at hand. +l. 39. A and B] kneeleth. + +p. 439, +l. 7. A-C] Sticke once. +l. 8. A-C] O canst thou. C] leave me. +l. 9. A and C] soon could I. +l. 20. A-D] Perhaps will cleanse thee once again. +l. 24. A-F] are appeas'd. +l. 27. 2nd Folio] Shephered. + +p. 440, +l. 14. A and B] their live. +l. 18. A and B _omit_] take a pair. +l. 23. 2nd Folio] offenders,; + +p. 441, +l. 13. 2nd Folio _misprints_] bouble. +l. 20. A and B _omit_] and disgrace. +l. 35. C] _brings_ Amoret _in_. + +p. 442, +l. 23. A-C] wrong in. +l. 28. 2nd Folio _misprints_] let let. C] wanton lusters. +l. 29. A-F] rights. +l. 30. A-E] Shepheards, +l. 39. A-C] complement. + +p. 443, +l. 1. A-C _omit_] still. +l. 4. A-C _for Alex_.} All. +l. 7. A and B] bless you after. +l. 34. C] or bancks. + +p. 444, +l. 14. 2nd Folio _misprints_] must. +l. 16. C] tresses. +l. 23. A and B] of the night. +l. 24. C] me light. l. 26. A and B] bring the Coral. +l. 33. A and B] I venter. +l. 36. A-C] these Thicks. + +p. 445, +l. 9. 2nd Folio _misprints_] Cle. +l. 10. A-F _add_] Finis. A and B _add also_] _The Pastorall of the +faithfull Shepheardesse._ + +p. 446, +l. 6. A-D] with the. +l. 14. A and C] this vaine. 2nd Folio] vain. +l. 26. A-F] wants. +l. 28. A-C] Some like if. A-D _omit_] not. +l. 29. A-D] judgments. +l. 32. A-C] aright to thee. D] a right to thee. + +p. 447, +l. 8. A and B] much will and. +l. 10. A-C _omit_] now. + +pp. 446-7. The lines by Fr. Beaumont are contained in A-F. + +p. 447. The lines by Ben Jonson are contained in A and C-F. + +p. 448. The Dialogue is contained in D-F. + + + +END OF VOL. II. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Faithful Shepherdess +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS *** + +***** This file should be named 12222.txt or 12222.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/2/12222/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jonathan Ingram, Chjarles M. 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