The Faithful Shepherdess - Beaumont Francis

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was to plight our troths,

      With enterchange of mutual chaste embraces,

      And ceremonious tying of our selves:

      For to that holy wood is consecrate

      A vertuous well, about whose flowry banks,

      The nimble-footed Fairies dance their rounds,

      By the pale moon-shine, dipping oftentimes

      Their stolen Children, so to make them free

      From dying flesh, and dull mortalitie;

      By this fair Fount hath many a Shepherd sworn,

      And given away his freedom, many a troth

      Been plight, which neither envy, nor old time

      Could ever break, with many a chaste kiss given,

      In hope of coming happiness; by this

      Fresh Fountain many a blushing Maid

      Hath crown'd the head of her long loved Shepherd

      With gaudy flowers, whilest he happy sung

      Layes of his love and dear Captivitie;

      There grows all Herbs fit to cool looser flames

      Our sensual parts provoke, chiding our bloods,

      And quenching by their power those hidden sparks

      That else would break out, and provoke our sense

      To open fires, so vertuous is that place:

      Then gentle Shepherdess, believe and grant,

      In troth it fits not with that face to scant

      Your faithful Shepherd of those chaste desires

      He ever aim'd at, and—

      Amo. Thou hast prevail'd, farewel, this coming night

      Shall crown thy chast hopes with long wish'd delight.

      Peri. Our great god Pan reward thee for that good

      Thou hast given thy poor Shepherd: fairest Bud

      Of Maiden Vertues, when I leave to be

      The true Admirer of thy Chastitie,

      Let me deserve the hot polluted Name

      Of the wild Woodman, or affect: some Dame,

      Whose often Prostitution hath begot

      More foul Diseases, than ever yet the hot

      Sun bred through his burnings, whilst the Dog

      Pursues the raging Lion, throwing Fog,

      And deadly Vapour from his angry Breath,

      Filling the lower World with Plague and Death. [Ex. Am.

      Enter Amaryllis.

      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:

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