Sick men and cattle have been often cured;
There lovely Amoret, that was assured
To lusty Perigot, bleeds out her life,
Forced by some iron hand and fatal knife;
And, by her, young Alexis.

Enter AMARILLIS, running.

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 rivers' brinks, 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 chaste!
Priest. This is a night of wonder !-Amarill',
Be comforted; the holy Gods are still
Revengers of these wrongs.

Amar. Thou blessed man,

Honour'd upon these plains, and loved o Pan,
Hear me, and save from endless infamy,
My yet unblasted flower, virginity!

By all the garlands that have crown'd that head,
By thy chaste office, and the marriage-bed
That still is bless'd by thee; by all the rites
Due to our God, 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 purged! I am not now
That wanton Amarillis! here I vow

To Heaven, and thee, grave father, if I may
'Scape this unhappy night, to know the day
A virgin, never after to endure

The tongues, or company of men impure!
I hear him come! save me!

Priest. Retire a while

Sull. Shep. Stay thy pace,
Most-loved Amarillis; let the chase
Grow calm and milder; fly me not so fast.
I fear the pointed brambles have unlaced
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 Æolus
Locks up his surly winds, and nimbly thus
Can shew my active youth! Why dost thou fly?
Remember, Amarillis, 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 lie
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.

Priest. [Coming forward.] Monster, stay! Thou that art like a canker to the state Thou livest and breathest in, eating with debate Through every honest bosom, 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. Shep. Good holiness, declare
What had the danger been, if being bare
I had embraced her; tell me by your art,
What coming wonders would that sight impart ?
Priest. Lust, and a branded soul.
Sull. Shep. 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?

Priest. You're 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.

SCENE IV.-The Forest.

Enter PERIGOT, with his hand bloody.

[Exeunt

Peri. Here will I wash it in the Morning's 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 hand will not be cleansed. 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 injured thee Make less a fault which I intended not, And let these dew-drops wash away my spot!It will not cleanse. Oh, to what sacred flood Shall I resort, to wash away this blood? Amidst these trees the holy Clorin dwells, In a low cabin of cut boughs, and heals All wounds: To her I will myself 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 adored, is dead; there will I give Myself to strictness, and like Clorin live!

[Exil.

SCENE V.-The Grove before CLORIN's Dwelling, with the Interior of it on one side of the Stage; CLORIN sitting in the Bower, 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 these 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?

Alexis. I have forgot all vain desires,
All looser thoughts, ill-temper'd fires.
True love I find a pleasant fume,

Whose moderate heat can ne'er consume.

Cloe. And I a new fire feel in me,
Whose chaste flame is not quench'd to be.
Clo. Join your hands with modest touch,
And for ever keep you such!

Enter PERIGOT, on the outside of the Bower
Peri. Yon is her cabin; thus far off I'll stand,
And call her forth; for my unhallow'd 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.

Clo. Satyr, see

Who it is that calls on me

Sat. [Coming out of the Bower.] There at hand some swain doth stand,

Stretching out a bloody hand.

Peri. Come, Clorin, bring thy holy waters clear, To wash my hand.

Clo. [Comes forth.] What wonders have been

here

Peri. Whate'er thou be,

Be'st thou her sprite, or some divinity,

That in her shape thinks good to walk this grove, Pardon poor Perigot!

Amo. I am thy love,

Thy Amoret, for evermore thy love!

Strike once more on my naked breast, I'll prove As constant still. Oh, could'st thou love me yet, How soon could 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. Whilst thou hast power to love, or I to live.

More welcome now, than hadst thou never gone Astray from me!

Peri. And when thou lovest alone,

And not I [thee], death, or some ling'ring pain That's worse, light on me!

Sat. Mortal, stand,

Till by fire I have made known
Whether thou be such a one
That may'st freely tread this place.
Hold thy hand up.-Never was

[Applying the Priest's hand to the flame. More untainted flesh than this. Fairest, he is full of bliss.

Clo. 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 spite
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.

Clo. 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

[The Satyr sprinkles the arbour with water, and then
perfumes it with frankincense.

Of censors fill'd with frankincense and myrrh,
Together with cold camphire: Quickly stir
Thee, gentle Satyr; for the place begins
To sweat and labour with th' abhorred sins
Of those offenders. Let them not come nigh,
For full of itching flame and leprosy
Their very souls are, that the ground goes back,
And shrinks to feel the sullen weight of black
And so unheard-of venom.-Hie thee fast,
Thou holy man; and banish from the chaste
These manlike monsters; let them never more
Be known upon these downs, but long before
The next sun's 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.
[Exit Priest

Peri. 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 abused! Give me the smart,
For it is justly mine.

Re-enter Priest.

Priest. Bright maid, I have perform'd your will; the swain

In whom such heat and black rebellions reign
Hath undergone your sentence, and disgrace:
Only the maid I have reserved, whose face
Shews much amendment; many a tear doth fall
In sorrow of her fault: Great fair, recall
Your heavy doom, in hope of better days,
Which I dare promise; once again upraise
Her heavy spirit, that near drowned lies
In self-consuming care that never dies.

Clo. I am content to pardon; call her in.
The air grows cool again, and doth begin
To purge itself: How bright the day doth shew
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.

[Exit Satyr, and re-enter with AMARILLAS. Sat. 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 re-cure

All thy life that was impure.
Hold your hand unto the flame;

[Holds her hand to the flame.

If thou be'st a perfect dame,
Or hast truly vow'd to mend,
This pale fire will be thy friend.-
See the taper hurts her not!
Go thy ways; let never spot

Henceforth seize upon thy blood:
Thank the gods, and still be good!

Clo. Young shepherdess, now you 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;
Then 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 blood
With thrifty bits, and labour; let the flood,
Or the next neighbouring spring, give remedy
To greedy thirst and travail, not the tree
That hangs with wanton clusters; let not wine,
Unless in sacrifice, or rites divine,

Be ever known of shepherds; 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 sweat
Hath given 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 compliment, but single truth,

From every tongue, and every shepherd's heart;
Let them still use persuading, but no art:
Thus, holy Priest, I wish to thee and these,
All the best goods and comforts that may please!
All. And all those blessings Heaven did ever
give,

We pray upon this bower may ever live.

Priest. Kneel, every shepherd, while 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 follow'd 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 reign,
Either in your flocks or you;
Give you 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; Dorns, he
That was the soul and god of melody.

[They sing, and strew the ground with "owers.

THE SONG,

All ye woods, and trees, and bowers, All ye virtues and ye powers

That inhabit in the lakes,

In the pleasant springs or brakes,
Move your feet

To our sound, Whilst we greet

All this ground,

With his honour and his name That defends our flock from blame.

He is great, and he is just,

He is ever good, and must
Thus be honour'd. Daffadillies,
Roses, pinks, and loved lillies,
Let us fling,
Whilst we sing,
Ever holy,

Ever holy,

Ever honour'd, ever young! Thus great Pan is ever sung!

Sat. Thou divinest, fairest, brightest, Thou most powerful maid, and whitest, Thou most virtuous and most blessed, Eyes of stars, and golden tressed Like Apollo! tell me, sweetest, What new service now is metest For the Satyr? Shall I stray In the middle air, and stay The sailing rack, or nimbly take Hold by the moon, and gently make Suit 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

[Exeunt.

Through the rising waves that fall
In snowy fleeces? Dearest, shall
i catch thee wanton fawns, or flies
Whose woven wings the summer dyes
Of many colours? get thee fruit,

Or steal from Heaven old Orpheus' lute?
All these I'll venture for, and more,

To do her service all these woods adore.

Clo. No other service, Satyr, but thy watch About these thicks, lest harmless people catch Mischief or sad mischance.

Sat. Holy virgin, I will dance

Round about these woods as quick
As the breaking light, and prick
Down the lawns, and down the vales
Faster than the windmill-sails.
So I take my leave, and pray
All the comforts of the day,
Such as Phoebus' heat doth send
On the earth, may still befriend
Thee and this arbour!

Clo. And to thee,

All thy master's love be free!

[Exeunt inRes.

SCENE I.-The Audience Chamber in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter KING ASTORAX, CALIS, CLEANTHE, LUCIPPE, Courtiers, and Gentlewomen, at one door: at the other, EUMENES.

Eum. Health to my sovereign! King. Eumenes, welcome! Welcome to Paphos, soldier! to our love! And that fair health you wish us, through the camp May it disperse itself, and make all happy! How does the general, the valiant Memnon? And how his wars, Eumenes?

Eum. The gods have given you, royal sir, a soldier,

Better ne'er sought a danger; more approved
In way of war, more master of his fortunes,

Expert in leading 'em ; in doing valiant,

In following all his deeds to victories,

And holding fortune certain there.

King. Oh, soldier,

Thou speak'st a man indeed; a general general; A soul conceived a soldier.

Eum. Ten set battles,

Against the strong usurper Diocles,
(Whom long experience had begot a leader,
Ambition raised too mighty) hath your Memnon
Won, and won gloriously, distress'd and shook him,
Even from the head of all his hopes, to nothing.
In three, he beat the thunder-bolt his brother,
Forced him to wall himself up: There not safe,
Shook him with warlike engines like an earthquake,
Till, like a snail, he left his shell, and crawl'd
By night and hideous darkness to destruction,
Disarm'd for ever rising more: Twelve castles,
Some thought impregnable; towns twice as many;
Countries, that. like the wind, knew no command
But savage wildness, hath this general,

With loss of blood and youth, through storms and
Call'd to your fair obedience.
[tempests,

King. Oh, my soldier,

That thou wert now within my arms! [D. ums

within.] What drums

Are those that beat, Eumenes ? Eum. His, my sovereign: