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.