John Fletcher - The Faithful Shepherdess стр 2.

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.

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.

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.

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.

  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.