CALLIDORA

I marry Sir, this fellow hath some fire in him, Me thinks a sad and drowsy shepherd is A prodigiein Nature, for the woods Should be as far from sorrow, as they are From sorrows causes, riches and the Like. Hail to you swain, I am a Gentleman Driven here by ignorance of the way, and would Confess my self bound to you for a courtesy, If you would please to help me to some lodging Where I may rest my self. Well; if the rest be Like this fellow here; Then I have traveled fairly now; for certainly This is a land of fools; some Colony Of elder brother's have been planted here, And begotten this fair generation. Prithee, good Shepherd, tell me where thou dwellest? This fellows wit amazes me; but friend, What do you think of lovers? What so Satyric Shepherd? I believe You did not learn these flashes in the Woods; How is it possible that you should get Such near acquaintance with the City manners, And yet live here in such a silent place, Where one would think the very name of City Could hardly Enter. You may rejoice; but sighs befit me better. Nay, good Shepherd, you mistake me. Thou needest not fear; I have no disease at all Beside a troubled mind. And therefore it does challenge Your piety the more, you should the rather, Strive to be my Physician. Your wit erres much: For as the soul is nobler then the body, So it's corruption asks a better medicine Then is applied to Gouts, Catarrhs, or Agues, And that is counsel. A fever, shepherd, but so far above And outward one, that the vicissitudes Of that may seem but warmth, and coolness only; This, flame, and frost. Why did you never love? have you no softness, Nought of your mother in you? if that Sun Which scorched me, should cast one beam upon you. Would quickly melt the ice about your heart, And lend your eyes fresh streams. That were and art worth learning, and you needs not Be niggard of your knowledge; See the Sun Though it have given this many thousand years Light to the world, yet is as big and bright As ever it was, and hath not lost one beam Of his first glory; then let charity Persuade you to instruct me, I shall be A very thankful scholar. It is a way which I have much desired To cheat my sorrow with; and for that purpose Would feign turn shepherd, and in rural sports We are my life's remnant out; I would forget All things, my very name if it were possible. It's Callidorus. Thank you fair Nymph, this is indeed a welcome Salutes her, You bless me too much; The honour of your lip is entertainment Princes might wish for. I cry you mercy Shepherdess, By Pan I did not see you. Nay, be not angry Shepherdess, you know He does but jest as it's his custom. By your leave, fair one. Yes, farewell gentle Swains. Oh you're too kind, And teach that duty to me which I ought To have performed; I would I could return The half of your deserts! but I am poor In every thing but thanks. How they blush? A man may well imagine they were yours, They bear so great a show of modesty. The Gods forbid that I should nurse a thought So wicked, thou art innocent I know, And pure as Venus Doves, or mountain snow Which no foot hath defiled, thy soul is whiter if there be any possibility of't) Then that clear skin which clothes thy dainty body. Far be it from my thoughts, I swear I honour And love those maiden virtues which adorn you. Why does the day start back? are you so cruel To show us first the light, and having struck Wonder into us snatch it from our sighed? If Spring crowned with the glories of the earth Appear upon the heavenly Ram, and straight Creep back again into a greyhaired frost, Men will accuse its forwardness. I must thank fortune then which led you hither, But you can stay a little while and bless us? How you oblige me to you! I thank you sweetest, How they flourish still! Sure they grow better, since your hand hath nipped them. I would not change them for those glorious apples Which give such fame to the Hesperian gardens. Poor souls I pity them, and the more, Because I have not been my self a stranger To these love passion, but I wonder What they can find in me worth their affection Truly I would feign satisfy them both, But can do neither; it's fates crime, not mine. Indeed I ought not, You have both me bought with your courtesies And should divide me. I pity both of you, for you have sowed Upon unthankful sand, whose dried up womb Nature denies to bless with fruitfulness, You are both fair, and more then common graces Inhabit in you both, Bellula's eyes Shine Like the lamp of Heaven, and so does Hylaces. Hylaces cheeks are deeper died in scarlet Then the chased morning's blushes, so are Bellula's, And I protest I love you both. Yet cannot, Yet must not enjoy either. Which times commentary Must only explain to you; and till then Farewell good Bellula, farewell good Hylace, I thank you both. Exit. To love is of it self a kind of Folly, But to love one who cannot render back Equal desire, is nothing else but madness: We are all three Unhappy; born to be the proud example Of Loves great Godhead, not his Godlike goodness. Let us not call upon our selves those Misery's Which love hath not, and those it hath bear bravely, Our desires yet are Like some hidden text, Where one word seems to contradict another, They are Loves nonsense, wrapped up in thick clouds Till Fate be pleased to write a Commentary, Which doubtless it'll; till then let let us endure, And found a parlee to our passion, And look upon each other. Come shall we rise? Fright me? it must be then some wickedness, I am accustomed so to misery, That cannot do't. I am a novice in all villanyes, If your intents be such, dismiss me, pray, My nature is more easy to discover Then help you; so, Farewell. What would you do? What must you do? Who? me? you do but jest, I should believe you, if I could tell how To frame a cause, or think on any injury Worth such a large revenge, which I have done you. Call not that love that's ill; it's only fury. It's nobly done; and since it must be so, Although my strength and courage call me woman I will not die Like sheep without resistance, If innocence be guard sufficient, I'm sure he cannot hurt me. I am. It's he; why do I doubt? most willingly, And my self too, best man; now kill me shepherd— It's not well done to trouble me, Why do you envy me this little rest? Where do you bear me? is Philistus well? Of Aphrons love to me, and my antipathy Towards him, there's none here ignorant, you know too. How guarded with his love, or rather fury, And some few men he broke into our house With resolution to make me the prey Of his wild Just. It happened that this gentle Shepheatdesse, (I can attribute it to nought in me Deserved so much) began to love me. Another Shepherd with as much desire Wooed her in vain, as she in vain wooed me, Who seeing that no hope was left for him, While I enjoyed this life enjoy his Bellula, (For by that name she's known) sought to take me Out of the way as a partition Betwixt his love and him, while in the fields We two were struggling, (him his strength defending. And me my innocence.) Philistus ; as if the Gods had all agreed To make him mine, just at the neck came in And parted us, with sudden joy I sounded, Which Bellula perceiving (for even then She came to seek me) sudden grief did force The same effect from her, which joy from me. Hither they brought us both, in this amazement, Where being straight recovered to our selves, I found you here, and you your dutiful Daughter. Nay, you have all Sir. Alas! 'twas the Gods will Sir, without that I had been undiscovered yet; Philistus Wandered too far, my Brother yet a Shepherd, You groaning for our lose, upon this wheel All our felicity is turned. Where's Hylace pray shepherd? and the rest Of my good Sylvan friends? me thinks I would, Fain take my leave of them. Yes; Philistus. Shepherds you're welcome all; though I have lost Your good society, I hope I shall not Your friendship, and best wishes. This is the Shepherd, Father, to whose care I owe for many favours in the woods, You're welcome heartily; here's every body Paired of a sudden; when shall's see you married? Why art thou mad? What perfumes dwell in them? They owe these odours to your breath. I will do presently best Hilace. Why do you follow him that flies from you? The Fates command me that I must not love you. Then talk again, What are we Like? the hand of Mother Nature Would be quite posed to make our simile. We are three flowers of Venus dainty garden, Where all three hinder one another's odour, Yet all three join, and make one nosegay up. And talk. Pray do. Thank you. I cannot choose But pity these two Lovers, and am taken Much with the serious trifles of their passion. Let's go and see, if we can break this net In which we all are caught; if any man Ask who we are, we'll say we are Loves riddle. Had I been your rival You might have had some cause; cause did I say? You might have had pretence for such a villainy: He who unjustly kills is twice a murderer. Are you resolved to be so cruel? As sick men do their beds, so have I yet Enjoyed my self, with little rest, much trouble: I have been made the Ball of Love and Fortune, And am almost worn out with often playing. And therefore I would entertain my death As some good friend whose coming I expected; Were it not that my parents— Pray follow me no more, me thinks that modesty Which is so lively painted in your face Should prompt your maiden heart with fears and blushes To trust your self in so much privateness With one you know not.