The faithfull shepheardesse. By Iohn Fletcher

Actus tertius Scena prima.

Enter the Sullen Shepheard with Amarillis in a sleepe

Sull.

From thy forehead thus I take These hearbs, and charge thee not awake,

Till in yonder holy well, Thrice with powerfull magicke spell, Fild with many a balefull word, Thou hast bene dipt, thus with my cord Of blasted hempe, by moone-light twinde, I do thy sleepy body binde, I turne thy head into the East, And thy feete into the West, Thy left arme to the South put forth, And thy right vnto the North: I take thy body from the ground, In this deepe and deadly sound: And into this holy spring, I let thee slide downe by my string: Take this maide thou holy pit To thy bottom, neerer yet, In thy water pure and sweete, By thy leaue I dip her feete: Thus I let her lower yet, That her anckles may be wet: Yet downe lower, let her knee In thy waters washed bee, There stop: Fly away Euery thing that loues the day, Truth that hath but one face, Thus I charme thee from this place. Snakes that cast your coates for new, Camelions, that alter hue, Hares that yearely sexes change, Proteus altring oft and strange, Haecatae with shapes three, Let this maiden changed be, With this holy water wet, To the shape of Amoret: Cinthia worke thou with my charme, Thus I draw thee free from harme, Vp out of this blessed lake, Rise both like her and awake.

She awakeh

Amo.

Speake shepheard, am I Amoret to sight? Or hast thou mist in any magicke right? For want of which any defect in me,

May make our practises discouered be?

Sull.

By yonder moone, but that I heere do stand, Whose breath hath thus reformd thee, and whose hand, Let thee downe dry, and pluckt thee vp thus wet, I should my selfe take thee for Amoret, Thou art in clothes, in feature, voice and hew So like, that sence can not distinguish you.

Amore.

Then this deceit which cannot crossed be, At once shall loose her him, and gaine thee me. Hether she needes must come, by promise made, And sure his nature neuer was so bad, To bid a virgin meete him in the wood, When night and feare are vp, but vnderstood, T'was his part to come first: being come, Ile say My constant loue made me come first and stay, Then will I leade him further to the groue, But stay you here, and if his owne true loue shall seeke him heere, set her in some wrong path, Which say her louer lately troden hath: Ile not be farre from hence, if neede there bee Heere is another charme, whose power will free The dazeled sence read by the moone beames cleare, And in my one true shape make me appeare.

Enter Perigot

Sul.

Stand close, heeee's Perigot, whose constant heart, Longs to behold her, in whose shape thou art.

Peri.

This is the place (faire Amoret) the houre Is yet scarce come, heere euery siluane power Delights to be, about yo•• sacred well, Which they haue blest with many a powerfull spell, For neuer trauailer in dead of night, Nor straied beasts haue falne in, but when ••ight, Hath faild them, then their right way they haue found, By helpe of them, so holy is the ground, But I will farther seeke, least Amoret Should be first come and so stray long vnmet. My Amoret, Amoret!

Exit. Amaril.

Perigot! Per My loue! A••arill. I come my loue.

exit.

Sul.

Now she hath got Her owne desires, and I shall gainer be Of my long lookt for hopes aswel as she; How bright the moone shines heere, as if she stroue

To show her glory in this little groue

Enter Amoret.

To some new loued Shepheard: yonder is Another Amoret: where differs this From that, but that she Perigot hath met, I should haue tane this for the counterfeit: Hearbs, woods, and springs, the power that in you lies, If mortall men could know your properties.

Amo.

Me thinkes it is not night, I haue no feare, Walking this wood of Lyon, or of Beare, Whose names at other times, haue made me quake, When any shepheardesse in her tale spake, Of some of them, that vnderneath a wood Haue torne true louers that together stood. Me thinkes there are no goblins, and mens talke, That in these woods the nimble Faieries walke, Are fables, such a strong hart I haue got, Because I come to meete with Perigot, My Perigot, whose that my Perigot?

Sul.

Faire Maid.

Amo.

Ay me thou art not Perigot.

Sul.

But I can tell ye newes of Perigot, An houre together vnder yonder tree, He sat with wreathed armes and cald on thee, And said, why Amoret staiest thou so long: Then starting vp downe yonder path he flung, Least thou hadst mist thy way: were it day light He could not yet haue borne him out of sight.

Amo.

Thankes gentle Shepheard and beshrew my stay, That made me fearefull I had lost my way: As fast as my weakelegs, (that cannot be Weary with seeking him) will carry me, Ile followe, and for this thy care of me, Pray Pan thy loue may euer follow thee.

Exit.

Sul.

How bright she was? how louely did she show? Was it not pittie to deceiue her so? She pluckt her garments vp and tript away, And with a virgin innocence did pray For me, that periurd her: whilst she was heere, Me thought the beames of light that did appeare, Were shot from her: me thought the moone gaue none,

But what it had from her: she was alone With me, if then her presence did so moue, Why did not I assay to win her loue? She would not sure haue yeilded vnto me, Woemen loue onely oportunitie And not the man, or if she had denied Alone, I might haue forcd her to haue tried Who had bene stronger: ô vaine foole, to let Such blest occasion passe, Ile follow yet, My blood is vp, I cannot now forbeare.

Enter Alexis and Cloe.

I come sweete Amoret, soft who is heere? A paire of louers, he shall yeild her me, Now lust is vp, alike all women be.

Alex.

Where shall we rest, but for the loue of me, Cloe I know ere this would weary be.

Cloe.

Alexis let vs rest heere, if the place Be priuate, and out o•• the common trace Of euery shepheard: for I vnderstood, This night a number are about the wood, Then let vs choose some place where out of sight, We freely may inioy our stolne delight,

Alex.

Then boldly heere, where we shall nere be found, No shepheards way lies heere, tis hallowed ground, No maide seekes heere her straied Cow, or Sheepe, Faieries and Fawnes, and Satires do it keepe, Then carelessely rest heere, and clip and kisse, And let no feare make vs our pleasures misse.

Cloe.

Then lye by me, the sooner we begin, The longer ere day descry our sin.

Sul.

Forbeare to touch my loue, or by yon flame The greatest power that Shepheards dare to name, Heere where thou first vnder this holy tree, Her to dishoner thou shalt buried be.

Alex

If Pan himselfe should come out of the lawnes, With al his troopes of Satyres and of Faunes, And bid me leaue I sweare by her two eies, A greater oath then thine, I would not rise.

Sul.

Then from the cold earth neuer thou shalt moue, But loose at one stroke both thy life and loue.

Cloe.

Hold gentle Shepheard.

Sul.

Fairest Shepheardesse, Come you with me, I do not loue ye lesse Then that fond man that would haue kept you there From me of more desert.

Alex.

O yet forbeare To take her from me, giue me leaue to die By her.

The Satyre enters, he runs one way and she another.

Saty.

Now whilst theme one doth rule the sky, And the starres, whose feeble light Giue a pale shadow to the night, Are vp, great Pan commaunded me To walke this groue about, whilst he In a corner of the wood, Where neuer mortall foote hath stood, Keepes dancing, musicke and a feast, To intertaine a louely guest: Where he giues her many a rose Sweeter then the breath that blowes The leaues: grapes, beries of the best, I neuer saw so great a feast. But to my charge: heere must I stay, To see what mortalls loose their way, And by a false fire seeming bright, Traine them in and leaue them right: Then must I watch if any be Forcing of a chastity, If I finde it, then in haste, Giue my wreathed horne a blast, And the faieries all will run, Wildely dauncing by the moone, And will pinch him to the bone, Till his lustfull thoughts be gone.

Alex.

O death••

Sat.

Backe againe about this ground Sure I heare a mortall sound, I binde thee by this powerfull spell, By the waters of this well: By the glimmering moone beames bright, Speake againe thou mortall wight.

Alex.

Oh

Sat.

Speake againe thou mortall wight, Heere the foolish mortall lies, Sleeping on the ground, arise, The poore wight is almost dead, On the Ground his woundes haue bled, And his Clothes fould with his bloud, To my Goddesse in the wood, Will I lead him, whose hands pure, Will helpe this mortall wight to cure,

Enter Cloe againe.

Cloe.

Since I beheld, you shaggy Man, my brest, Doth pant, each bush me thinks should hide a Beast, Yet my desire, keepes still aboue my feare, I would faine meete some Sheapheard knew I where, For from one cause of feare, I am most free, It is Impossible to Rauish mee, I am soe willing, here vpon this ground, I left my loue all Bloody wi••h his wound, Yet till that fearefull shape made me be gone, Though he were hurt, I furnisht was of one, But now both lost•• Alexis speake or moue, If thou hast any life thou art yet my loue, Hee's dead, or else is with his little might, Crept from the Bancke for feare of that ill spright, Then where art thou that struck'st my loue•• o stray, Bring mee thy selfe in Change, and then Ile say, Thou hast some Iustice, I will make thee trim, With Flowers, and Garlands, that were ment for him, Ile Clip thee round, with both mine armes as fast, As I did meane, he should haue bin imbraced. But thou art fled what hope is left for mee? Ile run to Daphnis in the hollow tree. Who I did meane to mocke, though hope be small, To make him bolde, rather then none at all, Ile try him, his heart, and my behauiour to Perhapes may teach him, what he ought to doe.

Exit,

Enter the sullen Sheappeard.

This was the place, twas but my feeble sight, Mixt with the horror of my deed, an night, That shapt theise feares•• and made me run away, And loose my Beautious hardly gotten Pray, Speake Gentle Sheappardess I am alone, And tender loue, for loue, but shee is gone, From me, that hauing struke her louer dead: For filly feare left her a lone and fled: And see the wounded Body is Remoued. By her of whome it was so well beloued.

Enter perigot & Amarillis. in the shape of a Amor••.

But all theise fancies must be quite for go••t, I must lye close heere comes younge Perigott, with subtill Amarillis in the shape, Of Amoret pray loue hee may not scape.

Amo.

Beloued Perigot, show mee some place, Where I may rest my Li••bes, weake with the Chace•• Of thee•• an hower before thou cam'st at least

per.

Beshrewe my Tardy stepps, here shalt thou rest Vppon this holy bancke no deadly snake, Vppon this Turffe her selfe in foulds doth make, Here is no poyson, for the Toad•• to feed. H••re ••oldly spread thy handes, no venomd weed, Dares blister them, No sly my snaile dare creepe, Ouer thy face when thou art fast a sleepe, Here neuer durst the bablinge Cuckoe spitt. No slough off ••ing Starr did euer hitt. Vppon this Bancke•• let this thy Cabin bee. This other set with violets for mee.

Amo.

Thou dost not lone mee Perigot?

Per.

Faire mayde You onely l••ue to heare it often sayd; You do n••t ••oubt,

Amo.

Beleeue mee, but I doe.

Per.

What shall wee now begin againe to woe, Tis the best way to make your louer last, To play with him, when you haue caught him fast,

Amo.

By I an I sweare, beloued Perigot,

And by you Moone, I thincke thou louest me not.

Per:

By Pan I sweare and if I falcely sweare: Let him not guard my flockes, let Foxes teare, My Earelyest lambes, and wolues whilst I doe steepe Fall one the rest a Rott amonge my sheepe, I loue the better, then the carefull Ewe, The new yeand lambe that is of her owne hew, I dote vppon thee more t••en that young l••mbe. Doth on the Bagg, that feedes him from his dam. W••re there a sort of wolues go••t in my fould, And one Rann after thee both young and ould, Should be deuour'd, and it should bee my strife, To saue thee, whom I loue aboue, my life,

Amo:

Howe should I trust thee when I see thee chuse Another bedd, and dost my side refuse,

Per:

Twas only that the chast thoughts, might bee showen, Tw••xt thee and mee, although we were alone,

Ama:

Come Perigot will show his power that hee Can make his Amoret, though she weary bee, Rise nimbly from her Couch and come to his. Here take thy Amoret imbrace, and Kisse:

Per.

What meane•• my loue;

Amo:

To do as louers shud. That are to bee inioyed not to bee woed. Ther's ••ere a Sheapard esse in all the playne, Can kisse thee with more Art, ther's none can faine. More wanton trickes,

Per:

Forbeare deare soule to t••ye, Whether my hart be pure, Ile rather dye, Then nourish one thought to dishonor thee,

Amo:

Still thinkst thou such a thinge as Chastitie, Is amongst woemen. Perigot thers none, That with her loue is in a wood alone, And wood come home a Mayde be not abusd, With thy ••ond first beleife, let time be vsd, Why dost thou rise,

Perigot:

My true heart, thon hast slaine,

Amo.

Fayth Perigot, Ile plucke thee downe againe,

Per.

Let goe thou Serpent that into my brest, Hast with thy Cunning diu'd art, art not iniest;

Amo:

Sweete loue lye downe,

Per:

Since this I liue to see, Some bitter North wind blast my flocks and mee

Amo.

You swore you lou'd yet will not doe my will,

Per:

O be as thou wert, once, Ile loue thee still,

Amo:

I am, as still I was and all my kind, Though other showes wee haue poore men to blynd,

Per:

Then here I end all loue, and lest my vaine, Beleei••e should euer draw me in againe, Before thy face that hast my youth mislead, I end my life my blood be on thy head,

Amo:

O hold thy hands thy Amoret doth cry,

Per:

Thou c••unsayl'st well, first Amoret shall dye, That is the cause of my Eternall smart,

Auso:

O hold.

Per:

This steele shall peirse thy lustfull hart,

He ••uns after he••

The Sullen Sheapheard stepes out and vncharmes her••

Sullen.

vp and downe euery where, I strewe the hearbs to purge the Ayer•• Let your Odor driue hence, All mistes that dazell sence, Herbes and springs whose hydden migh•••• Alters shapes, and mocks the sight. Thus I charge ye to vndo; All before I brought yee to•• Let her flye let her scape, Giue againe her owne shape:

Enter Amarillis.

For beare thou gentle swayne thou dost mistake; Shee whom thou followedst fled into the brake•• And as I crost thy way I mett thy wrath; The only feare of which neere slayne me hath,

Per:

Pardon fayre Sheapardes••e my rage and night, Were both vppon me and beguild my sight; But farr be it from mee to spill the blood. Of harmelesse maydes that wander in the wood,

Exit

Enter Amoret.

Many a weary stepp in yonder path

Amoret.

Poore hoplesse Amoret twice troden hath, To seeke her Perigot, yet cannot heare, His voyce, my ••erigot, shee loues thee deare: That calles.

Per:

See yonder where shee is how faire. Shee showes, and yet her breath infects the Ayer.

Amo.

My Perigot:

Per:

Here.

Amo:

Happye.

Per:

Haplesse first: It lights, on thee, the next blowe is the worst,

Amo:

Stay Perigot, my loue, tho•• art vniust:

Per.

Death is the best reward, thats due to lust;

Exit Per:

Sullen.

Now shall their loue be crost, for being strucke; Ile throwe her in the Fount least being tooke: By some Night Trauayler, whose honest care, May help to cure her, Sherpardesse prepare, Your selfe to dye,

Amo:

No mercy I doe craue•• Thou canst not giue a worsse blowe then I haue; Tell him that gaue mee this, who lou'd him to•• He strucke my soule and not my bodye through: Tell him when I am dead my soule shall bee. At peace if hee but thincke hee iniurd mee••

He flin••es her into y^e well

Sullen.

In this Fount bee thy Graue, thou wert not ment, Sure for a woman, thou art so Innocent•• Shee cannot scape for vnderneath the ground, In a longe h••llowe the cleere spring is bound, Till on you syde where the Morns sunn doth looke•• The strugling water breakes out in a brooke,

Exit.

The God of the Riuer Riseth with Amoret, in his armes

God

what powerfull Charmes my streames doe bring Backe againe vnto their spring? With such force that I their god,

Three times stricking with my rod, Could not keepe them in their Rancks My fishes shute into the bankes. Ther's not one, that stayes and feeds, All haue hidd th••m in the weedes Heres a Mortall almost dead, Falne into my Riuer head, Hollowed so with many a spell, That till now none euer fell, Ti•• a Feamale young and cleare, Cast in by some Rauisher, See vppon her brest a wound, On which there is no playster bound, Yet shee's wa••me, her pulses beat, Tis a signe of life and heate, If thou bee'st a virgin pure, I can giue a present cure, Take a droope into thy wound From my watry locke more round, Then Orient Pearle, and farr more pure, Then vnchast fl••sh may endure, See shee pants and ••rom her flesh, The warme blood gusheth out a fresh, She is an vnpoluted mayde: I must haue this bleeding stayde, From my banckes, I plucke this flower. With holy hand whose vertuous power, Is at once to heale and draw•• The blood Returnes•• I neuer saw, A ••ayrer Mortall, now doth breake, Her deadly slumber, virgin, speake,

Amo:

Who hath restor'd my sence, giuen mee new breath, And brought mee backe out of the Armes o•• death,

God.

I haue heald thy wounds:

Amo:

Aye mee,

God.

Feare not him that succord thee: I am this Fountayne•• God belowe, My waters to a Riuer growe, And twixt two banckes with Osiers sett, That only p••o••per in the wet, Through the Meddowes do they glide,

Wheeling still ••n euery syde, Sometimes winding round about. To ••ind the Euenest channell o••t, And if thou wilt go with mee, Leauing Mortall company. In the Coole streames ••hall thou lye: Free from harme as well as I, I will giue thee for thy food, No fish that vse••h in the mudd, But Trout and Pike that loue to swim, Where the Grauell from the bri••, Though the pure streames may beseene, Orient Pearle fit for a Queene, Will I giue thy loue to winn•• And a shell to keepe them in, Not a fish in all my brooke, That shall disobeye thy l••oke, But when thou wilt come slyding bye, And from thy white h••nd take a••lye, And to make thee vnderstand: How I can my waues commaund, They shall Bubble whilst I sing, Sweeter then the siluer string.

The Song.

Doe not feare to put thy feete, Naked in the Riuer sweete, Thinke not leach, or Neu••e, or Toad, Will byte thy foote, when tho•• hast trod, Not ••et the water rising hye•• As thou wadest in make thee cry: And sobb, but euer li••e with mee. And not a waue shall trouble thee.

Amo:

Immortall power, ther rul'••t this holy ••lud, I know my selfe, vnworthy to be woed, By the a God, for ere this, but ••or thee: I should haue showne my weake Mortallitie, Besides by holy Oath betwixt vs twaine, 〈2 pages duplicate〉〈2 pages duplicate〉

I am be throthd vnto a Sheaphard Swaine, Whose comely face; I know the Gods aboue: May make mee leaue to see; but not to loue,

God:

Maye hee proue to thee as ••rewe: Fayrest virgin now adue, I must make my waters flye, Least they leaue ther Channells dry. And beasts, that come vnto the spring Misse ther mornings watringe. Which I would not, for of late. All the Neighbour people sate. One my banckes and from the fold, Tow white Lambs of three weeks Old, Offered to my Dietie, For which this yeare they shall bee free From raging floods that as they passe, Leaue their grauell in the grasse, Nor shall their Meades be ouer flowne, When their grasse is newly moane,

Amo:

For thy kindnesse to me showne, Neuer from thy bancks be blowne, Any Tree; with windy force. Crosse thy streames to stopp thy Course, May no Beast that comes to drincke With his Hornes cast downe thy brincke May non that for thy fishe doe looke, Cutt thy banckes to damme thy Brooke: Bare-foote may no Neighbour wade: In thy coole streames? wife nor mayde, When the spawn••s one stones do lye, To wash ther Hempe and spoyle the frye.

God.

Thankes Virgin, I must downe againe. Thy wound will put thee to noe paine. Wonder not, so soone tis gone; A holy hand was layd vppon.

Exit.

Amo:

And I vnhappye borne to bee. Must follow him, that flyes from mee,

Finis Actus Tertis

Enter Perigot.

P••r

Shee is vntrue vnconstant, and vnkinde, Shee's gone•• shee's gone, blow hygh thou North west winde, And rayse the Sea to Mountaynes: let the Trees, That dare oppose thy Raging fury leese Their firme foundation: Creepe into the ea••th, And shake the world as at the monstrus b••rth, Of some new Prodegey, whilst I constant stand, Holdinge this trusty Bore-Speare in my hand, And falling thus vppon it.

Pe••igot to Enter, Ama ri••lis ••••nu••ng

Stay ••hy dead doing hand thou art to hott, Against thy selfe belieue me comely Swaine, If that thou dyest, not all the showers of Rayne. The heauy Clowdes send downe can wash away: The ••oule vnmanly guilt, the world will lay, Vppon thee, yet thy loue vntainted stands: Belieue mee shee is constant, not the sands, Can bee so hardly numbred as shee wunn: I do not triffle, Sheapard, by thee Moone, And all those lesser lights our eyes doe vewe All that I could thee Perigot is true, Then bee a freeman, put away dispayre, And will to dye, smooth gently vp that fayre, Deiected forehead: be as when those eyes, Tooke the first heat,

Per:

Allas hee doeble dyes, That would beleiue, but cannot, ••is not well, Ye keepe mee thus from dying here to dwell, With many worse companions: but oh death, I am not yet inamourd of his breath, So much, but I dare leaue it, tis not payne, In forcing of a wound: nor after gayne, Of many dayes, can hold mee from my will, Tis not my selfe, but Amoret. byds kille••

Am••:

Stay, but a little•• little but on hower,

And if I do not showe thee through the power? Of hearbes and words I haue, as darke as Night? My selfe, turn'd to thy Amoret, in sight? Her very figure, and the Robe shee weares; With tawny Buskins, and thee hooke she beares Of thyne owne Caruing, where your names are set, Wrought vnderneath with many a Curious frett The prim-Rose Chaplet? taudry-lace and Ring, Thou gauest her for her singing with each thing, Else that shee weares about her lett mee feele; The first tell stroke of that Reuenging steele?

Per.

I am contented if ther bee a hope; To giue it Entertaynement for the scope; Of one poore hower; goe you shall find me next? Vnder you shady Beech? euen thus perplext; And thus beleiuing.

Amaril.

Bynde before I goe; Thy soule by Pan vnto mee, not to doe, Harme or outragious wrong vppon thy life, Till my Returne.

Per.

By Pan and by the strife; Hee had with Phoebus for the Masterye, When Goulden Mydas, iudg'd their Minstralcye; I will not.

Exeunt;

Enter Satyre with Alezis hurt.

Satyre:

Softly glyding as I goe; With this Burden full of woe; Through still silence of the night? Guided by the glooe-wormes light. Hether am I come at last; Many a Thicket hane I past; Not at twigg that durst deny mee; Nor a bush t••at durst descry mee. To the little Bird that sleepes: On the tender spray nor creeps, That hardly worme with poynted Tayle; But if I bee vnder sayle; Flying faster then the wind;

Leauinge all the Clowdes behind, But doth hide her tender head, In some hollow Tree o•• bedd; Of ••eeded Nettells not a Hare Can be started from his fare; By my footing nor a wish; Is more sudden, nor a fish? Can bee found; with greater ease, Cut the vast vnbounded seaes; Leauing neither print nor ••ound. Then I when nimbly on the ground, I measure many a leage an howre; But behold the happy bower, That must ease me of my charge, And by holy hand enlardge; The ••oule of this sadd man that yet, Lyes fast bound in dead lysi••t, Heauen and great Pan, sucker it, Hay••e thou beauty of the Bower, Whither then the Paramore: Of my Maister; let me craue, Thy virteous helpe to keepe from Graue, This poore Mortall that here lyes, Wayting when thee destinyes. Will vndo his thread of life, Veiwe the wound by cruell knife, Trencht into him••

Cl••r:

What art thou? call'st mee from my holy Rightes And with the feared name of death a frightes My tender Eares, speake me thy name and will,

Satyre

I am the Statyre that did fill, Your lapp with early fruite and will, When I happ to gather more, Bring yee better, and more store: Yet I come not empty now, See a blossome from the bowe, But be shrewe his hart that pulld it, And his perfect Sight that Culld it, From the other springinge bloomes For a sweeter youth the Gwomes

Cannot show mee nor the downes: Nor the many neighbouring Townes, Low in yonder glade I found him, Softly in mine Armes I bound him, Hether haue I brought him sleeping, In a Trance, his wounds fresh weepinge, In remembrance such youth may Spring and perish in a Day.

Clor:

Satyre: they wrong thee, that doe tearme thee rude Though thou beest outward rough and tawny hued: Thy manners are as gentle and as fayre, As his who bragges himselfe, borne only heyre, To all Humanity: let mee see thie wound: This Hearb will stay the Currant being bound, Fast to the Or••physe, and this restrayne, Vicers, and Swellinges, and such inward payne, As the cold Ayre hath forc'd into the sore, This to, drawe out such Putrifiing gore, As inward falls.

Satrye:

Heauen grant it may doe good,

Clor:

Fayrely wipe away the blood, Hold him gently till I fling, Water of a vertuous spring: On his Temples tu••ne him twice: To the Moone beames pinch him thrice: That the labouring soule may drawe. From his great ecclip••e.

Satry:

I sawe. His Eye-lids moouing.

Clor:

Giue him breath, All the danger of cold death: Now is vanisht, with this playster: And this vnction doe I maister: All the festred ill that maye: Giue him greife another day.

Satyr:

See hee gathers vp his spright And begins to hunt for light, Now a gapes and breathes agayne: How the bloud runns to the vayne:

That east was emply.

Alexis.

Oh my hart, My dearest, dearest Cloe O the smart, Runnes, through my side: I feele some poynted thing, Passe through my Bowels, sharper then the stinge, Of Scorpion.

Pan, preserue mee, what are you, Doe not hurt mee. I am true, To my Cloe though shee fly And leaue mee to this Destiny, There shee stands, and will not lend,

Her smooth white hand to helpe her freind, But I am much mistaken, for that face, Beares more Austeritye and modest grace,

More reprouing and more awe. Then theise Eyes yet euer sawe, In my Cloe, oh my payne: Eagerly Renewes againe:

Giue mee your helpe for his sake you loue best:

Clor:

Sheapheard thou Canst not possible take rest. Till thou hast layed a syde all heates, desiers, Prouoking thoughts, that stirr vpp lusty fiers. Commerse with wanton Eyes: strong bloud and will, To execute theise must bee purg'd vntill, The vayne growe Whiter then Repent and pray: Great Pan, to keepe you from the like decaye, And I shall vndertake your cure with ease. Till when this verteous Playsters will displease, Your tender sides. giue mee your hand and rise. helpe him a little Satyre. for his Thyghes. Yet are feeble.

Alexis.

Sure I haue lost much blood.

Satyre.

Tis no matter, twas not good, Mortall you must leaue your woing, Though ther be aloye in doing,

Yet it brings much griefe, behynd it, They best ••eele it, that doe find it,

Clor:

Come bringe him in, I will attend his sore, When you are well, take heed you lust no mo••e,

Satyr:

Sheapeard see what comes of kissinge By my head twere better missing, Bryghtest if ther, bee ramayning, Any seruice, without fayninge, I will do it, were I sett, To catch the nimble wind or gett, Shaddowes glydinge on the greene, Or to steale from the great Queene, Of Fayryes, all her Beautye, I would do it so much dutye, Doe I owe those pretious Eyes,

Clor:

I thancke the honest Satyre, if the Cryes, Of any other that be hurt, or ill, Draw thee vnto th••m, prithee do thy will? To bring them hether,

Satyre:

I will and when the weathe••: Se••ues to Angle in the brooke, I will bring a siluer hooke, With a lyne of finest silke, And a rodd•• as white as mi••ke, To deserue the little fishe, Soe I take my leaue and wish, On this bowre may euer dwell, Springe, and sommer.

Clor:

Friend farewell.

Exit.

Enter Amoret, seeking her loue

Amo:

This place is Ominous sor here I lost, My loue and almost life, and since haue crost, All theise woodes ouer, neuer a Nooke or dell, Where any li••tle Byrd, or beast doth dwell,

But I haue sought it•• neuer a bending browe, Of any hill or Glade, the wind sings through, Nor a greene bancke or shade whe••e Sheapeards vse, To si••t and Riddle sweetely pipe or chuse, Their valentynes•• but I haue mist to find. My loue in, Perigot, Oh to vnkind. Why hast thou fled mee? whether art thou gone, Howe haue I wrong'd thee? was my loue alone, To thee, worthy this scorned Recompence? tis well, I am content to fee•• eit; but I tell Thee Sheapeard: and theise lusty woods shall heare. Forsaken Aomret•• is yet as cleare, Of any stranger fier, as Heauen is. From foule Corruption, or the deepe: Abisse, From light, and happynesse, and thou mayst knowe, All this for truth and how that fatall blowe, Thou gauest mee, neuer from desert of myne, Fell on my life, but from suspect of thyne, Or fury more then Madnes therefore, here. Since I haue lost my life, my loue, my dea••e, Vpon this cursed place, and on this greene, That first devorced vs, shortly shall bee seene, A sight of so great pitty that each eye, Shall dayly spen•• his spring in memorye.

Enter Amarillsi.

Of my vntymely fall.

Amaril:

I am not blynd, Nor is it through the working of my Mynd. That this showes Amoret, for sake me all, That dwell vppon the soule, but what men call Wonder, or more then wonder Miracle, For sure so strange as this the Oracle, Neuer gaue answere of, It passeth dreames, Or maddmens fancye when the many streames, Of newe Imagination rise and fall: Tis but an howre since theise Eares heard her call, For pitty to young Perigot? whils••hee, Directed by his fury Bloodelye,

Lanch't vp•• her brest, which bloudlesse fell and cold, And if beleife may Credit what was told, After all this the Mellancholly Swayne, Tooke her into his Armes being almost slayne. And to the bottom of the holy well, slung her for euer with the waues to dwell, Tis shee, the very same, tis Amoret. And liuing yet, the great powers will not let, Their verteous loue be Crost, mayde wipe away, Those heauy dropps of sorrow, and allay, The storme that yet goes high, which not deprest, Breakes, hart, and life, and all before it rest: Thy Perigot:

Amo:

where: which is Perigot.

Amaril

Sits there below lamenting much God wott: Thee, and thy fortune, goe and comfort him, And thou shalt finde him vnder neath a brim, Of sayling Pynes that edge yon Mountaiue in,

Amo:

I goe, I run Heauen graunt mee. I maye winn: His soule agayne.

Enter Sullen:

Stay Amarillis stay, Ye are to fleete, tis two howers yet to days I haue perform'd my promise le••t vs sitt; And warme our bloodes together till the sitt; Come liuely on vs;

Amaril:

Freind you are to keene; The Morning, Riseth, and wee shall be seene, For beare a little;

Sullen:

I can staye no longer;

Amaril:

Hold Sheapeard hold, learne not to bee a wronger; Of your word, was not your promise layed, To break their loues first:

Sullen:

I haue done it Mayd?

Amaril:

No they are yet vnbroken, met againe, And are as hard to part yet as the stayne? Is from the finest lawne,

Sullen.

I say they are.

now at this present parted, and so farr, That they shall neuer meete,

Amaril

Swayne tis not so, For do but to yon hanging Mountayne goe, And ther beleiue your eyes,

Sullen:

you doe but hold: Of with delayes: and trifles, fare wel cold, And frozen bash••ullnes, vnfit for men, Thus I sallute thee virgin,

Amaril:

And thus then, I bid you followe, Catch mee if ye can,

Exit.

Sullen.:

And If I stay behind I am no Man.

Exit running after her

Enter Perigot.

Night do not steale away: I woe thee yet? To hold a hard hand ore the Rusty bytt, Tha•• Gydes thy Lazy teame•• goe backe againe, Bootes thou that driu'st thy frozen wane, Round as a Ringe and bring a second Night, To hyde my sorowes from the comming light, Let not the Eyes of men stare on my face, And read my falling•• giue mee some blacke place, Where neuer sunn beame, shot his wholsome light, That I may sitt, and powre out my sadd spright, Like running water neuer to be knowne: After the forced fall and ••ound is gone,

Enter Amoret looking of Perigot

This is the bottome: speake if thou be here, My Perigot, thy Amoret, thy deare, Calles on thy loued Name,

Per:

What thou dare, Tread theise forbydden pathes, where death and care, Dwell on the face of darcknes,

Amo:

Tis thy friend, Thy Amoret come hether to giue end, To theise consuminges looke vpp gentle Boye, I haue forgot those paynes, and deare annoy, I sufferd for thy sake, and am content,

To bee thy loue againe why hast thou rent, Those curled lockes, wher I haue often hunge, Ribandes and damaske Roses, and haue flunge, Waters distilld to make thee fresh and gaye, Sweeter then Nose-gayes on a Bridall daye, Why dost thou crosse thyne Armes, and hang thy face, Downe to thy Boosome, letting fall apace, From those too little Heauens vppon the ground Showres of more price, more Orient, & more round Then those that hange vppon the moones pale browe Cease theise complainings Sheapheard I am nowe, The same, I euer was, as kinde and free, And can forgiue before you aske of mee, Indeed I can, and will.

Per:

Soe spoke my fayre, O you great working powers of Earth, and Ayre, Water, and forming fier, why haue you lent, Your hydden vertues of so ill intent, Euen such aface, so fayre so bright of hewe, Had Amoret, such, words ••soe smooth and newe, Came flowing from her tongue, such was her eye, And such the poynted sparckle that did flye•• Forth like a bleeding shaft, all is the same, The Robe, and Buskins, painted, hooke, and frame, Of all her Body O mee Amoret,

Amo:

Sheapeard what meanes this Riddle who hath sett, So strange a difference, twixt my selfe and mee, That I am growne annother, looke and see. The Ring thou gauest mee, and about my wrest. That Curious Braeslet thou thy selfe didst twist. From those fayre Tresses, knowest thou Amoret. Hath not some newer loue forced thee forget, Thy Auncient fayth,

Per:

Still nearer to my loue; Theise be the very words shee oft did proue, Vppon my temper, so shee still wod take, wonder into her face, and silent make, Singes whith her head and hand as who wod saye Sheapeard remember this annother daye:

Amo:

Am I not Amoret. where was I lost,

Can there be Heauen, and time, and men•• most Of theise vnconstant? fayth where art thou fled? Are all the vowes and protestations dead: The hands held vpp? the wishes and the hart? Is ther not one remayningne not apart, Of all theise to bee found why then I see: Men neuer knewe that vertue constancye

Per

Men euer were most blessed, till Crosse fate, Brought loue, and woemen forth vnfortunate, To all that euer tasted of their smiles, Whose Actions are all double, full of wiles, Like to the subtill Hare, that fore the Houndes, Makes many turnings leapes and many roundes, This waye aud that waye, to deceaue the sent, Of her p••rsuers:

Amo:

Tis but to preuent, Ther speedy comminge, on that seeke her fall, The hands of Cruell men•• more Bestiall, And of a nature more refusing good, Then beastes themselues, or fishes of the flood, Thou art all theise, and more then nature ment, When shee created all, frownes, ioyes, content: Extreame fier for an hower, and presentlye: Colder then sleepy poyson: or the sea, Vppon whose face sitts a continuall frost Your Actions euer driuen to the most, Then downe agayne as lowe that none can find, The rise or falling of a woemans minde,

Amo:

Can ther bee any Age, or dayes, or time, Or tongues: of Men, guilty so great a crime: As wronging simple Mayde, O Perigot: Tho•• that wast yesterday without a blott, Thou that wast euery good•• and euery thinge, That men call blessed: thou that wast the spring. From whence our looser groomes drewall their best: Thou that wast alwaies Iust, and alwaies blest, In fayth and promise, thou that hadst the name, Of vertuous giuen thee, and made good the same: Euen from thy Cradle: thou that wast that all, That men delighted in, Oh what a fall,

Is this to haue bene soe, and now to bee, The onlye best in wrong, and infamye, And I to liue to know this, and by mee. That lou'd thee dearer then, myne Eyes or that, Which wee esteeme our honour virgin state, Dearer then swallowes loue the early morne, Or doggs of Chace the souud of merry Horne, Dearer then thou canst loue thy newe loue, if thou hast•• Another and farr dearer then the last, Dea••er then thou can'st loue thy selfe, though all, The selfe loue were wîthin thee, that did fall. with that coye swayne: hat now is made a flower For whose deare sake, Eccho weepes many a showre And am I thus rewarded for my flame, Lou'd worthely to gett a wantons name, Come thou forsaken willowe winde my head, And noyse it to the world, my loue is dead: I am forsaken I am Cast awaye, And left for euery lazy Grome to saye, I was vnconstant light, and sooner lost, Then the quicke Clowds wee see or the Chill ••rost, When the hott sun beates on it tell mee yet, Canst thou not lone againe thy Amorett?

Per.

Thon art not worthy of that blessed name, I must not knowe thee, flynge thy wanton flame, vppon some lighter blood: that may be hott, With words and fayned passi••ns, Perigot, Was euer yet vnstaynd, and shall not nowe. Stoope to the meltings of a borrowed browe:

Amo:

Then heare mee heauen: to whome I call for right. And you sayre twinckling starres that crowne the night, And heare mee woods and and silence of this place, And ye sad howers, that mooue a sullen pace, Heare mee ye shadowes, that delight to dwell, In horred darknesse, and ye powers of Hell, Whilst I breath out my last, I am that mayde, That yet vntaynted Amoret tha•• played: The carelesse Prodigall: and gaue awaye: My soule to this younge man that now dares say: I am a stranger, not the same, more wild,

And thus with much beleife, I was be guild, I am that Mayde, that haue delayd denye, Aud almost scornd the loues of all that tryded, To win me but this swayne, and yet confesse, I haue bene woed by many with no lesse. Soule of affection and haue often had: Ringes Rellts and Cracknels. sent me from the lad. That ••eeds his flockes downe westward, Lambes and Doues By young Alexis, Daphnis sent me gloues, All which I gaue to thee not theise nor they That sent them, did I smyle one, or ere lay. vpp to my af••er memo••ye but why, Do I resolue to grieue and not to dye Happy had bene the stroake thou gauest if home, By this tyme had I found a quiet roome. Where euery slaue is free, and euery brest, That liuing bread, new care, now lyes at rest, And thether will poore Amoret,

Ver.

Thou must, Was euer any man, soe loath to trust, His Eyes as I, or was ther euer yet, Any so like, as this to Amoret, For whose deare ••ake, I promise if ther bee A liuing soule within thee thus to ••ree, Thy Body from it,

He hur••s her agayne.

Amo:

So this worke hath end. Farewell and liue be constant to thy friend, That loues thee next,

Enter Satrye: Perigot runus of.

Satyre.

See the day begins to breake, And the light shutts like a streake, Of subtill fier the wind blowes cold, Whilst the morning doth vnfold, Nowe the Byrds begin to rouse, And the Squyrrill from the boughes, Leps to gett him Nutts and fruite, The early Larke earst was mute, Carr••lls to the Risinge daye,

Many a Note, and manye laye, Therfore here I end my watch, Least the wandering Swayne should catch, Harme or loose him self••••Amo: ah mee.

Satyre:

speake agayne what ere thou bee, I am ready speake I say, By the dawning of the day, By the power of Night and Pan; I inforce thee speake againe,

Amo:

O I am most vnhappie.

Satyre.

Yet more blood, Sure these wanton Swaynes are wood, Can there be a hand, or hart, Dare commit so vild a part, As this Murder, by the Moone, That hydd her selfe when this was done, Neuer was a sweeter face, I will beare her to the place, Where my Goddess keepes and craue, Her to giue her life, or graue,

exeunt,

Enter Clorin,

Clorin,

Here whilst one patient takes his rest secure I steale a broad to doe annother Cure, Pardon thou buryed body of my loue, That from thy side I dare so soone remooue, I will not proue vnconstant nor will leaue, Thee for an hower alone, when I deceaue, My first made vowe, the wildest of the wood, Teare me, and ore thy Graue lett out my blood, I goe by witt to Cure a louers payne, Which no hearb can, being done, Ile come againe,

Exit,

Enter Thenot

Poore Sheapeard in this shade for euer lye, And seeing thy fayre Clorins, Cabin dye, O happlesse loue which being answered ends, And as a little Infant cryes and bendes,

Hist tender Browes, when rowling of his eye, He hath espyed some thing that glisters nye. Which he would haue, yet giue it him, away, He throwes it straight, and cryes a fresh to playe With some thing else such my affection sett, On that which I should loath if I could geett

Enter Clorin.

See where hee lies did euer man but hee, Loue any woeman for her Constancy, To her dead louer which she needs must end, Before she can alowe him, for her freind, And he himselfe, must needes the cause destroye, For which he loues, before he can inioye, Poore Sheapeard, Heauen grant I at once may free, Thee from thy payne, and keepe my loyalty, Sheapheard looke vpp,

Thenot

Thy brightnesse doth amaze, Soe Phoebus may at Noone byd mortalls gaze, Thy glorious constancy appeares so bright, I dare not meete the Beames with my weakesight

Clorin.

Why dost thou pyne away thy selfe for mee

Thenot

Why dost thou keepe such spottlesse constancy?

Clorin.

Thou holy Sheapheard see what for thy sake, Clorin, thy Clorin, now dare vndertake, he starts vp

Thenot.

Stay ther, thou constant Clorin if ther bee, Yet any part of woeman left in thee, To make thee light thincke yet before thou speake,

Clorin.

See what a holy vowe, for thee I breake, I that already haue my fame ••arr spread, For beeing constant to my louer dead

Thenot.

thincke yet deare Clorin of your loue, how trewe, If you had dyed, he would haue bene to you

Clorin

Yet all Ile loose for thee.

Thenot.

Thincke but how blest, A constant woeman is aboue the rest,

Clorin.

And offer vpp my selfe, here on this ••round, To be disposd by thee,

Thenes

why dost thou wound,

His hart with Mallice, against woemen more. That hated all the Sex, but thee before, How much more pleasant had it bene to mee, To dye then behold this change in thee, Yet, ye•••• returne: let not the woeman swaye,

Clorin:

In sult not on her now, nor vse delaye Who for thy sake hath venturd all her fame,

Thenot:

Thou hast not venturd but bought Certaine shame, Your Sexes Curse, foule falshood, must and shall, I see once in your liues light on you all; I hate thee now: yet turne

Clorin,

Be iust to mee: Shall I at once•• loose both my fame and thee,

Thenot.

Thon hadst no fame, that which thou didst like good Was but thy Appetite that swayed thy bloud, For tha•• time to the best, for as a blast, That through a nouse comes, vsually doth cast, Things out of order: yet by chaunce may come, And blowe some one thinge to his proper rome, Soe did thy Appetite, and not thy zeale. Swaye the by chaunce to do some one thing well. Yet turne.

Clorin:

Thou dost but trye me if I would. Forsake thy deere imbraces for my ould Loues though he were aliue, but doe not feare••

Thenot

I doe contemne thee nowe: and dare come neare. And gayse vppon thee, for me thinkes that grace: Austeritye, which satt vppon that ••ace, Is gone, and thou like others false mayde see, This is the gaine of foule Inconstance,

Exit.

Clorin:

Tis done great: Pan, I giue thee thankes for it, What Art could not haue heald, is curd by witt,

Enter: Thenot agayne:

Will ye be constant yet, will ye remooue, Into the Cabin to your buryed loue,

Clorin:

Noe lett me dye, but by thy side remayne,

Thenot.

Ther's none shall knowe that thou didst euer stayne, Thy worthy stricknes, but shalt honnerd bee

And I will lye againe vnder this tree, And pine and dye for thee with more delight, Then I haue sorrow now to know thee light,

Clorin.

Let mee haue thee, and Ile be where thou wilt.

Theonot.

Thou art of womens race and full of guilt, Farewell all hope of that sex, whilst I thought, There was one good, I feared to find one nought But since there minds I all alike espie Hence foorth Ile chuse as thers, by mine eye,

Clorin.

Blest be yee powers that gaue such quicke redresse, And for my labours sent so good successe, I rather chuse though I a woman bee, He should speake ill of all, then dye for me.

Finis Actus quartus.