University of Virginia Library

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 found,
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.

Stayr.
Here away me thinks 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 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 Riversbrinks, 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 hare
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 Shephered.
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 slame 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 bouble 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;
Than 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 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.

[Shepherds]
The SONG.
[They all Sing.
[Exeunt.

Satyr.
Thou divinest, fairest, brightest,
Thou must 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 Phœbus heat doth send
On the earth, may still befriend
Thee, and this arbour.

Cle.
And to thee,
All thy Masters love be free.

[Exeunt.