University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.

Lys.
Let's yeild to Fate and satisfie her rage,
And end our daies within some salvage den:
Farewell ye dearest places, and my flocks,
Which feeding I have left on yonder hill,
Y'ennamel'd meddowes, which too apt to please,
Have furnisht me with flowrs t'adorn my Love:
And pleasant streames farewell, despairing Lysis
I'th' horrour of these Woods will ever dwell.
Good Gods! how thick, how dark it is! I think

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No Sheepherd ere its silence did disturb:
Hence all prophane—take heed you come not neare;
I feare to touch them as I crosse these bushes—
Oh—th'are the rusling leaves—I think I see
A man that walks there with a staffe in's hand,
And murm'ring to himselfe, does seem to read.

(He perceives Hircan walking (after the Country-fashion) with a Cane in his hand, reading.)
Lys.
Doubtless it is a Druyde skil'd in Magick—
I must accost him.