CLORIN

And all my fears go with thee. What greatness or what private hidden power, Is there in me to draw submission, From this rude man, and beast? sure I am mortal, The daughter of a Shepherd, he was mortal: And she that boar me mortal: prick my hand And it will bleed: a fever shakes me, And the selfsame wind that makes the you ̄ g lambs shrink, Makes me a cold, my fear says I am mortal: Yet I have herd (my mother told it me) And now I do believe it, if I keep My virgin flower uncropped, pure, chaste, & fair, No Goblin, wood-god, Fairy, Elf, or Fiend, Satyr or other power that haunts these groves, Shall hurt my body, or by vain illusion, Draw me to wander after idle iers. Or voices calling me in dead of night, To make me follow, and so tole me on, Through mires and standing pools: Else why should this rough thing, who never knew Manners, nor smooth humanity, whose heats Are rougher then himself, and more mishapen, Thus mildly kneel to me? sure there is a power In that great name of virgin; that binds fast All rude uncivil bloods, all appetites That break their confines: then strong chastity, Be thou my strongest Guard, for here Il'e dwell In opposition against Fate and Hell. Why dost thou pine away thy self for me Thou holy Shepherd see what for thy sake, Clorin, thy Clorin, now dare undertake, he starts up See what a holy vow, for thee I break, I that already have my fame arr spread, For being constant to my lover dead And offer vpp my self, here on this round, To be disposed by thee, Let me have thee, and I'll be where thou wilt. Blessed be ye powers that gave such quick redress, And for my labours sent so good success, I rather choose though I a woman be, He should speak ill of all, then die for me. Now your thoughts are almost pure: And your wound begins to cure. Strive to banish all thats vain, Lest it should break out again. May thy grief more appease, Relapses, are the worst disease: Take heed how you in thought offend, So mind and body both will mend. With spottlesse hand, on spotless Breast, I put these herbs to give thee rest. Which till it heal the there will bide If both be pure, if no of slide. See it falls of from the wound, Sepheardesse thou art not found, Fallen of lust. Why that hath brought it. And so may Pan bless this my cure, As all my thoughts are joust and pure, Some uncleanness nigh does lurk, That will not let my medicines work. Satire search if thou canst find it, Bring them out they are unsound. Hold Satire, take this Glass, Sprinkle over all the place, Purge the Air from lustful breath, To save this Shepherdess from ̄ death. And stand you still, while I do dress Her wound for fear the pain increase, Satire help to bring her in, Satire bring the Sheph ard never, Try him if his mind be clear, Which will burn him if he lust. But if not away will turn, As loath unspotted flesh to burn: See it gives back let him go. Farewell Mortal keep thee so. Hold her finger to the flame: That will yield her praise or shame. Take her hence, Least her sighed disturb his sense. See his wound again is burst, Keep her near here in the wood. Till I have stopped these streams of blood. Soon again he ease shall find, If I can but still his mind: This curtain thus I do display, To keep the piercing Air away. Join your hands with modest touch, And for ever keep you such. What w nders have been here To night stretch oorth thy hand young swain, Wash and ubbe it whilst I rain Holy water. Now your stain Perhaps will cleanse, thee once again See the blood that erst did stay, With the water drops away: All the powers again are pleased, And with this new knot are appeased: Join your hands, and rise together, Pan be blessed that brought you hither. Go back again what ere thou art: unless Smooth maiden thoughts possess thee, do not press This hallowed ground, go Satire take his hand, And give him present trial. Then boldly speak why dost thou seek this place, Fume all the ground, And sprinkle holy water, for unsound And foul Infection begins to fill the Air It gathers yet more strongly, Of Censors filled with Franckensence and Mirr. Together with cold Camphire, quickly stir. The gentle Satire, for the place begins To sweat and labour, with the 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 ullen weight of black And so unheard of vennome, hie thee fast, Thou holy man, and banish from the chased, These manlike monsters, let them never more Be known upon these dounes, but long before, The next suns rising, put them from the sighed, And memory of every honest wight. Be quick in expedition, lest the sores Of these weak patients, break into new gores Exi Priest. I am content to pardon: call her in, The air grows cool again, and does Begin To purge it self, how bright the day does show After this stormy cloud, go Satire go, And with this taper boldly try her hand. If she be pure and good, and firmly stand to be so still: we have perfoormd a work worthy the gods themselves Satire brings Amarillis in. No other Service Satire but thy watch, About these Thicks least harmless people catch, Mischief or sad mischance. And to thee, All thy Master's love be free. exeunt. Satire: they wrong thee, that do term thee rude Though thou be'st outward rough and tawny hued: Thy manners are as gentle and as fair, As his who brags himself, born only heir, To all Humanity: let me see thie wound: This Herb will stay the Currant being bound, Fast to the Or physe, and this restrain, Vicers, and Swellings, and such inward pain, As the cold Air hath forced into the soar, This to, draw out such Putrifying gore, As inward falls. Fairly wipe away the blood, Hold him gently till I fling, Water of a virtuous spring: On his Temples tu ne him twice: To the Moon beams pinch him thrice: That the labouring soul may draw. From his great ecclip e. Give him breath, All the danger of cold death: Now is vanished, with this plaster: And this unction do I master: All the festered ill that may: Give him grief another day. Shepherd thou Canst not possible take rest. Till thou hast laid a side all heats, desires, Provoking thoughts, that stir vpp lusty fierce. Commerse with wanton Eyes: strong blood and will, To execute These must be purged until, The vain grow Whiter then Repent and pray: Great Pan, to keep you from the Like decay, And I shall undertake your cure with ease. Till when this virtuous Plasters will displease, Your tender sides. give me your hand and rise. help him a little Satire. for his Thighs. Yet are feeble. Come bring him in, I will attend his soar, When you are well, take heed you lust no more e, I thank the honest Satire, if the Cries, Of any other that be hurt, or ill, Draw thee unto that m, prithee do thy will? To bring them hither, Friend farewell. Exit. Shepherd how camest thou hither to this place? No way is trodden, all the verdent grass The spring shot up stands yet unbruised here Of any foot, only the dappld deer: Far from the feared found of crooked horn Dwells in this fastness. If any art I have, or hidden skill, May cure thee of disease or festered ill, Whose grief or greenness to another's eye, May seem unpossible of remedy, I dare yet undertake it. Then shepherd let me sue To know thy grief that man yet never knew The way to health, that durst not show his soar. Swain no more. Thou hast abused the strictness of this place, And offered Sacriligeous foul disgrace To the sweet rest of these interred bones, For fear of whose ascending fly at once, Thou and thy idle passion, that the sighed Of death and speedy vengeance may not fright. Thy very soul with horror. Darest thou abide To see this holy earth at once divide And give her body up, for sure it will, If thou pursuest with wanton flames to fill This hallowed place: therefore repent and go, While I with prays appease his Ghost below, That else would tell thee what it were to be, A rival in that virtuous love, that he Embraces yet. Wouldst thou have Me raise again found man, from silent graven, Those sparks that long ago were buried here, With my dead friends cold ashes? Do, and let time wear out, What Art and Nature cannot bring about. The Gods give quick release And happy cure unto thy hard disease. Exeunt. 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 tedeous way they pass though, from suspect Keep them from wrong in others, or neglect Of duty in them selves, correct the blood, With thrifty bitts and labour, let the flood, Or the next neghbouring spring give remedy To greedy thirst, and travail, not the tree That hangs with wanton clusters, let not wine nlesse in sacrifice or rights divine, Be ever known of shepherd's, have a care, Thou man of holy life, Now do not spare, Their faults through much remissness, not 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 heafers in the budded Brooms, Teach the young maidens tricknes that y e grooms May ever fear to tempt their blowing youth, Banish all compliment but single truth. From every tongue, and every Shepherds heart, Let them use persuading, but no Art: Thus holy Priest, I wish to thee and these, All the best goods and comforts that may please, Here while one patient takes his rest secure I steal a broad to do another Cure, Pardon thou buried body of my love, That from thy side I dare so soon remove, I will not prove unconstant nor will leave, Thee for and hour alone, when I deceive, My first made vow, the wildest of the wood, Tear me, and over thy Grave let out my blood, I go by wit to Cure a lovers pain, Which no herb can, being done, I'll come again, Exit, Poor Sheapeard in this shade for ever lie, And seeing thy fair Clorins, Cabin die, Oh happlesse love which being answered ends, And as a little Infant cries and bends, Hist tender Brows, when rolling of his eye, He hath espied some thing that glisters nigh. Which he would have, yet give it him, away, He throws it straight, and cries a fresh to play With some thing else such my affection set, On that which I should loath if I could geett See where he lies did ever man but he, Love any woman for her Constancy, To her dead lover which she needs must end, Before she can allow him, for her friend, And he himself, must needs the cause destroy, For which he loves, before he can enjoy, Poor Sheapeard, Heaven grant I at once may free, Thee from thy pain, and keep my loyalty, Shepherd look vpp, Be joust to me: Shall I at once lose both my fame and thee, In sult not on her now, nor use delay Who for thy sake hath ventured all her fame, Thou dost but try me if I would. Forsake thy deer embraces for my old Loves though he were alive, but do not fear 'Tis done great: Pan, I give thee thanks for it, What Art could not have healed, is curd by wit, Will you be constant yet, will you remove, Into the Cabin to your buried love, Shepherd once more your bloold is stayed, Take example by this maid, Who is healed e e you be pure, so hard it is lewd lust to cure, Take heed then how you turn your eye On these other lust fully, And sheephear esse take eedleast 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 chased, And for ever so to last. Yet all I'll lose for thee. What art thou that dost call? Clorin is ready to do good to all. Come near. Satire bring him to the bower We will try the soueragne power Of other waters. What art thou? callest me from my holy Rights And with the feared name of death a frights My tender Ears, speak me thy name and will, No let me die, but by thy side remain,