The Faithful Shepherdess | Page 5

are given?Dainty Pleasures that would even?Raise in coldest Age a fire,?And give Virgin Blood desire,
Then if ever,?Now or never,?Come and have it,?Think not I,?Dare deny,?If you crave it._
Enter Daphnis.
Here comes another: better be my speed,?Thou god of Blood: but certain, if I read?Not false, this is that modest Shepherd, he?That only dare salute, but ne'r could be?Brought to kiss any, hold discourse, or sing,?Whisper, or boldly ask that wished thing?We all are born for; one that makes loving Faces,?And could be well content to covet Graces,?Were they not got by boldness; in this thing?My hopes are frozen; and but Fate doth bring?Him hither, I would sooner chuse?A Man made out of Snow, and freer use?An Eunuch to my ends: but since he's here,?Thus I attempt him. Thou of men most dear,?Welcome to her, that only for thy sake,?Hath been content to live: here boldly take?My hand in pledg, this hand, that never yet?Was given away to any: and but sit?Down on this rushy Bank, whilst I go pull?Fresh Blossoms from the Boughs, or quickly cull?The choicest delicates from yonder Mead,?To make thee Chains, or Chaplets, or to spread?Under our fainting Bodies, when delight?Shall lock up all our senses. How the sight?Of those smooth rising Cheeks renew the story?Of young Adonis, when in Pride and Glory?He lay infolded 'twixt the beating arms?Of willing Venus: methinks stronger Charms?Dwell in those speaking eyes, and on that brow?More sweetness than the Painters can allow?To their best pieces: not Narcissus, he?That wept himself away in memorie?Of his own Beauty, nor Silvanus Boy,?Nor the twice ravish'd Maid, for whom old Troy?Fell by the hand of Pirrhus, may to thee?Be otherwise compar'd, than some dead Tree?To a young fruitful Olive.
Daph. I can love,?But I am loth to say so, lest I prove?Too soon unhappy.
Clo. Happy thou would'st say,?My dearest Daphnis, blush not, if the day?To thee and thy soft heats be enemie,?Then take the coming Night, fair youth 'tis free?To all the World, Shepherd, I'll meet thee then?When darkness hath shut up the eyes of men,?In yonder Grove: speak, shall our Meeting hold??Indeed you are too bashful, be more bold,?And tell me I.
Daph. I'm content to say so,?And would be glad to meet, might I but pray so?Much from your Fairness, that you would be true.
Clo. Shepherd, thou hast thy Wish.
Daph. Fresh Maid, adieu:?Yet one word more, since you have drawn me on?To come this Night, fear not to meet alone?That man that will not offer to be ill,?Though your bright self would ask it, for his fill?Of this Worlds goodness: do not fear him then,?But keep your 'pointed time; let other men?Set up their Bloods to sale, mine shall be ever?Fair as the Soul it carries, and unchast never. [Exit.
Clo. Yet am I poorer than I was before.?Is it not strange, among so many a score?Of lusty Bloods, I should pick out these things?Whose Veins like a dull River far from Springs,?Is still the same, slow, heavy, and unfit?For stream or motion, though the strong winds hit?With their continual power upon his sides??O happy be your names that have been brides,?And tasted those rare sweets for which I pine:?And far more heavy be thy grief and time,?Thou lazie swain, that maist relieve my needs,?Than his, upon whose liver alwayes feeds?A hungry vultur.
Enter Alexis.
Ale. Can such beauty be?Safe in his own guard, and not draw the eye?Of him that passeth on, to greedy gaze,?Or covetous desire, whilst in a maze?The better part contemplates, giving rein?And wished freedom to the labouring vein??Fairest and whitest, may I crave to know?The cause of your retirement, why ye goe?Thus all alone? methinks the downs are sweeter,?And the young company of swains far meeter,?Than those forsaken and untroden places.?Give not your self to loneness, and those graces?Hid from the eyes of men, that were intended?To live amongst us swains.
Cloe. Thou art befriended,?Shepherd, in all my life I have not seen?A man in whom greater contents have been?Than thou thy self art: I could tell thee more,?Were there but any hope left to restore?My freedom lost. O lend me all thy red,?Thou shamefast morning, when from Tithons bed?Thou risest ever maiden.
Alex. If for me,?Thou sweetest of all sweets, these flashes be,?Speak and be satisfied. O guide her tongue,?My better angel; force my name among?Her modest thoughts, that the first word may be--
Cloe._ _Alexis, when the sun shall kiss the Sea,?Taking his rest by the white Thetis side,?Meet in the holy wood, where I'le abide?Thy coming, Shepherd.
Alex. If I stay behind,?An everlasting dulness, and the wind,?That as he passeth by shuts up the stream?Of Rhine_ or _Volga, whilst the suns hot beam?Beats back again, seise me, and let me turn?To coldness more than ice: oh how I burn?And rise in youth and fire! I dare not stay.
Cloe. My name shall be your word.
Alex. Fly,