Old. Stay a little while; For if the Morning mist do not beguile My sight with shadows, sure I see a Swain; One of this jolly Troop's come back again.
Pri. Dost thou not blush young Shepherd to be known, Thus without care, leaving thy flocks alone, And following what desire and present blood Shapes out before thy burning sense, for good, Having forgot what tongue hereafter may Tell to the World thy falling off, and say Thou art regardless both of good and shame, Spurning at Vertue, and a vertuous Name, And like a glorious, desperate man that buys A poyson of much price, by which he dies, Dost thou lay out for Lust, whose only gain Is foul disease, with present age and pain, And then a Grave? These be the fruits that grow In such hot Veins that only beat to know Where they may take most ease, and grow ambitious Through their own wanton fire, and pride delicious.
The. Right holy Sir, I have not known this night, What the smooth face of Mirth was, or the sight Of any looseness; musick, joy, and ease, Have been to me as bitter drugs to please A Stomach lost with weakness, not a game That I am skill'd at throughly; nor a Dame, Went her tongue smoother than the feet of Time, Her beauty ever living like the Rime Our blessed Tityrus did sing of yore, No, were she more enticing than the store Of fruitful Summer, when the loaden Tree Bids the faint Traveller be bold and free, 'Twere but to me like thunder 'gainst the bay, Whose lightning may enclose but never stay Upon his charmed branches; such am I Against the catching flames of Womans eye.
Priest. Then wherefore hast thou wandred?
The. 'Twas a Vow That drew me out last night, which I have now Strictly perform'd, and homewards go to give Fresh pasture to my Sheep, that they may live.
Pri. 'Tis good to hear ye, Shepherd, if the heart In this well sounding Musick bear his part. Where have you left the rest?
The. I have not seen, Since yesternight we met upon this green To fold our Flocks up, any of that train; Yet have I walkt these Woods round, and have lain All this same night under an aged Tree, Yet neither wandring Shepherd did I see, Or Shepherdess, or drew into mine ear The sound of living thing, unless it were The Nightingale among the thick leav'd spring That sits alone in sorrow, and doth sing Whole nights away in mourning, or the Owl, Or our great enemy that still doth howl Against the Moons cold beams.
Priest. Go and beware Of after falling.
The. Father 'tis my care. [Exit Thenot.
Old. Here comes another Stragler, sure I see A Shame in this young Shepherd. Daphnis!
Pri. Where hast thou left the rest, that should have been Long before this, grazing upon the green Their yet imprison'd flocks?
Daph. Thou holy man, Give me a little breathing till I can Be able to unfold what I have seen; Such horrour that the like hath never been Known to the ear of Shepherd: Oh my heart Labours a double motion to impart So heavy tidings! You all know the Bower Where the chast Clorin lives, by whose great power Sick men and Cattel have been often cur'd, There lovely Amoret that was assur'd To lusty Perigot, bleeds out her life, Forc'd by some Iron hand and fatal knife; And by her young Alexis.
Enter Amaryllis running from her Sullen Shepherd.
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 chast.
Pri. This is a night of wonder, Amaryll Be comforted, the holy gods are still Revengers of these wrongs.
Amar. Thou blessed man, Honour'd upon these plains, and lov'd of Pan, Hear me, and save from endless infamie My yet unblasted Flower, Virginitie: By all the Garlands that have crown'd that head, By the chaste office, and the Marriage bed That still is blest by thee, by all the rights Due to our gods; 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 purg'd: I am not now That wanton Amaryllis: here I vow To Heaven, and thee grave Father, if I may 'Scape this unhappy Night, to know the Day, To live a Virgin, never to endure The tongues, or Company of men impure. I hear him come, save me.
Pri. Retire a while Behind this Bush, till we have known that vile Abuser of young Maidens.
Sul. Stay thy pace, Most loved Amaryllis, let the Chase Grow calm and milder, flye me not so fast, I fear the pointed Brambles have unlac'd 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 Eolus Locks up his surly Winds, and nimbly thus Can shew my active Youth; why dost thou flye? Remember Amaryllis, 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 lye 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.
Pri. Monster stay, Thou that art like a Canker to the State Thou liv'st and breath'st in, eating with debate Through every honest bosome, 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. Good holiness declare, What had the danger been, if being bare I had embrac'd her, tell me by your Art, What coming wonders would that sight impart?
Pri. Lust, and a branded Soul.
Sull. 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?
Pri. Ye are 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. [Exeunt.
Enter Perigot with his hands bloody.
Per. Here will I wash it in this mornings 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 hands will not be cleans'd. 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 injur'd thee Make less a fault which I intended not, And let these dew drops wash away my spot. It will not cleanse. O to what sacred Flood Shall I resort to wash away this blood? Amid'st these Trees the holy Clorin dwells In a low Cabin of cut Boughs, and heals All Wounds; to her I will my self 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 ador'd is dead, there will I give My self to strictness, and like Clorin live. [Exit.
The Curtain is drawn, Clorin appears sitting in the Cabin, 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 each 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?
Alex. I have forgot all vain desires, All looser thoughts, ill tempred fires, True Love I find a pleasant fume, Whose moderate heat can ne'r consume.
Clo. And I a new fire feel in me, Whose chaste flame is not quencht to be.
Clor. Join your hands with modest touch, And for ever keep you such.
Per. Yon is her Cabin, thus far off I'll stand, And call her forth; for my unhallowed 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.
Clor. Satyr, see Who it is that calls on me.
Sat. There at hand, some Swain doth stand, Stretching out a bloudy hand.
Peri. Come Clorin, bring thy holy waters clear, To wash my hand.
Clo. What wonders have been here To night? stretch forth thy hand young Swain, Wash and rub it whilest I rain Holy water.
Peri. Still you pour, But my hand will never scower.
Clor. Satyr, bring him to the Bower, We will try the Soveraign power Of other waters.
Satyr. Mortal, sure 'Tis the Blood of Maiden pure That stains thee so.
[The Satyr leadeth him to the Bower, where he spieth Amoret, and kneeling down, she knoweth him.
Peri. What e're thou be, Be'st thou her spright, or some divinitie, That in her shape thinks good to walk this grove, Pardon poor Perigot.
Amor. I am thy love, Thy Amoret, for evermore thy love: Strike once more on my naked breast, I'le prove As constant still. O couldst thou love me yet; How soon should 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. Whilest thou hast power to love, or I to live; More welcome now than hadst thou never gone Astray from me.
Peri. And when thou lov'st alone And not I, death, or some lingring pain That's worse, light on me.
Clor. Now your stain This perhaps will cleanse again; See the blood that erst did stay, With the water drops away. All the powers again are pleas'd, And with this new knot appeas'd. Joyn your hands, and rise together, Pan be blest that brought you hither.
Enter Priest, and Old Shephe[rd].
Clor. Go back again what ere thou art, unless Smooth Maiden thoughts possess thee, do not press This hallowed ground. Go Satyr, take his hand, And give him present trial.
Satyr. Mortal stand, Till by fire I have made known Whether thou be such a one, That mayst freely tread this place. Hold thy hand up; never was More untainted flesh than this. Fairest, he is full of bliss.
Clor. 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 spight 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.
Clor. 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 Of Censors fill'd with Frankincense and Mirrh, Together with cold Camphyre: quickly stir Thee, gentle Satyr, 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 leprosie Their very souls are, that the ground goes back, And shrinks to feel the sullen weight of black And so unheard of venome; hie thee fast Thou holy man, and banish from the chast These manlike monsters, let them never more Be known upon these downs, but long before The next Suns 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. [Ex. Priest.
Per. 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 abus'd; give me the smart For it is justly mine.
Amo. I do believe. It is enough dear friend, leave off to grieve, And let us once more in despight of ill Give hands and hearts again.
Per. With better will Than e're I went to find in hottest day Cool Crystal of the Fountain, to allay My eager thirst: may this band never break. Hear us O Heaven.
Amo. Be constant.
Per. Else Pan wreak, With [d]ouble vengeance, my disloyalty; Let me not dare to know the company Of men, or any more behold those eyes.
Amo. Thus Shepherd with a kiss all envy dyes.
Priest. Bright Maid, I have perform'd your will, the Swain In whom such heat and black rebellions raign Hath undergone your sentence, and disgrace: Only the Maid I have reserv'd, whose face Shews much amendment, many a tear doth fall In sorrow of her fault, great fair recal Your heavy doom, in hope of better daies, Which I dare promise; once again upraise Her heavy Spirit that near drowned lyes In self consuming care that never dyes.
Clor. I am content to pardon, call her in; The Air grows cool again, and doth begin To purge it self, how bright the day doth show 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. [Satyr brings Amaryllis in.
Satyr. 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 recure All thy life that was impure: Hold your hand unto the flame, If thou beest a perfect dame, Or hast truely vow'd to mend, This pale fire will be thy friend. See the Taper hurts her not. Go thy wayes, let never spot Henceforth seize upon thy blood. Thank the Gods and still be good.
Clor. Young Shepherdess now ye 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; Th[e]n 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 bloud With thrifty bits and labour, let the floud, Or the next neighbouring spring give remedy To greedy thirst, and travel not the tree That hangs with wanton clusters, [let] not wine, Unless in sacrifice, or rites divine, Be ever known of Shepherd, 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 swet Hath giv'n 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 complements, but single truth From every tongue, and every Shepherds heart, Let them still use perswading, but no Art: Thus holy Priest, I wish to thee and these, All the best goods and comforts that may please.
Alex. And all those blessings Heaven did ever give, We pray upon this Bower may ever live.
Priest. Kneel every Shepherd, whilest 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 followed 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 raign Either in your flocks or you, Give ye 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, Dorus, he That was the soul and god of melodie.
The SONG. [_They all Sing
All ye woods, and trees and bowers, All you vertues and ye powers That inhabit in the lakes, In the pleasant springs or brakes, Move your feet To our sound, Whilest we greet All this ground, With his honour and his name That defends our flocks from blame.
He is great, and he is Just, He is ever good, and must Thus be honour'd: Daffodillies, Roses, Pinks, and loved Lillies, Let us fling, Whilest we sing, Ever holy, Ever holy, Ever honoured ever young, Thus great Pan is ever sung. [Exeunt.
Satyr._ Thou divinest, fairest, brightest, Thou m[o]st powerful Maid, and whitest, Thou most vertuous and most blessed, Eyes of stars, and golden tressed Like _Apollo_, tell me sweetest What new service now is meetest For the _Satyr_? shall I stray In the middle Air, and stay The sayling Rack, or nimbly take Hold by the Moon, and gently make Sute 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 Through the rising waves that fall In snowie fleeces; dearest, shall I catch the wanton Fawns, or Flyes, Whose woven wings the Summer dyes Of many colours? get thee fruit? Or steal from Heaven old _Orpheus_ Lute? All these I'le venture for, and more, To do her service all these woods adore.
Clor. No other service, Satyr, but thy watch About these thickets, lest harmless people catch Mischief or sad mischance.
Satyr. Holy Virgin, I will dance Round about these woods as quick As the breaking light, and prick Down the Lawns, and down the vails Faster than the Wind-mill 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 Masters love be free. [Exeunt.
To my Friend Master JOHN FLETCHER upon his Faithfull Shepherdess.
I know too well, that, no more than the man That travels through the burning Desarts, can When he is beaten with the raging Sun, Half smothered in the dust, have power to run From a cool River, which himself doth find, E're he be slacked; no more can he whose mind Joyes in the Muses, hold from that delight, When nature, and his full thoughts bid him write: Yet wish I those whom I for friends have known, To sing their thoughts to no ears but their own. Why should the man, whose wit ne'r had a stain, Upon the publick Stage present his [vein,] And make a thousand men in judgment sit, To call in question his undoubted wit, Scarce two of which can understand the laws Which they should judge by, nor the parties cause? Among the rout there is not one that hath In his own censure an explicite faith; One company knowing they judgement lack, Ground their belief on the next man in black: Others, on him that makes signs, and is mute, Some like as he does in the fairest sute, He as his Mistress doth, and she by chance: Nor want there those, who as the Boy doth dance Between the Acts, will censure the whole Play; Some if the Wax-lights be not new that day; But multitudes there are whose judgement goes Headlong according to the Actors cloathes. For this, these publick things and I, agree So ill, that but to do a right for thee, I had not been perswaded to have hurl'd These few, ill spoken lines, into the world, Both to be read, and censur'd of, by those, Whose very reading makes Verse senseless Prose: Such as must spend above an hour, to spell A Challenge on a Past, to know it well: But since it was thy hap to throw away Much wit, for which the people did not pay, Because they saw it not, I not dislike This second publication, which may strike Their consciences, to see the thing they scorn'd, To be with so much wit and Art adorned. Besides one vantage more in this I see, Tour censurers now must have the qualitie Of reading, which I am afraid is more Than half your shrewdest Judges had before.
To the worthy Author M'r. Jo. FLETCHER.
_The wise, and many headed_ Bench, _that sits Upon the Life, and Death of_ Playes, _and_ Wits, (_Composed of_ Gamester, Captain, Knight, Knight's man, Lady, _or_ Pusill, _that wears mask or fan_, Velvet, _or_ Taffata _cap, rank'd in the dark With the shops_ Foreman, _or some such_ brave spark, _That may judge for his_ six-pence_) had, before They saw it half, damn'd thy whole Play, and more, Their motives were, since it had not to doe With vices, which they look'd for, and came to.
I, that am glad, thy Innocence was thy Guilt, And wish that all the_ Muses _blood were spilt In such a_ Martyrdome, _to vex their eyes, Do crown thy murdred_ Poeme: _which shall rise A glorified work to Time, when Fire, Or mothes shall eat, what all these Fools admire._
This Dialogue newly added, was spoken by way of Prologue to both their Majesties, at the first acting of this Pastoral at Somerset-house on Twelfth-night, 1633.
A broiling Lamb on Pans chief Altar lies, My Wreath, my Censor, Virge, and Incense by: But I delayed the pretious Sacrifice, To shew thee here, a Gentle Deity.
Nor was I to thy sacred Summons slow, Hither I came as swift as th' Eagles wing, Or threatning shaft from vext Dianaes bow, To see this Islands God; the worlds best King.
Bless then that Queen, that doth his eyes invite And ears, t'obey her Scepter, half this night.
_Let's sing such welcomes, as shall make Her sway Seem easie to Him, though it last till day.
Welcom as Peace t'unwalled Cities, when Famine and Sword leave them more graves than men. As Spring to Birds, or Noon-dayes Sun to th' old Poor mountain Muscovite congeal'd with cold. As Shore toth' Pilot in a safe known Coast When's Card is broken and his Rudder lost.
p. 369, l. 2. C] Antiochus l. 10. C omits] have. l. 12. C omits] Princes. B misprints] Prnices. l. 17. C gives this line to Sel. l. 35. A] Cel. l. 40. C] I once more next [instead of beg it thus].
p. 370, l. 9. C] sound. l. 10. C] beat through. l. 16. C _adds_] Finis. C _omits] Prologue _and_ Epilogue.
p. 371, l. 1. A] And those. l. 6. A omits] Spoke by the Lieutenant.
THE FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS.
(A) The Faithfull Shepheardesse. By John Fletcher. Printed at London for R. Bonian and H. Walley, and are to be sold at the spred Eagle over against the great North dore of S. Paules. Undated, but probably 1609-10.
(B) The same, with slight differences in the Commendatory Verses and in one or two other sheets.
(C) The Faithfull Shepheardesse. By John Fletcher. The second Edition, newly corrected. London, Printed by T.C. for Richard Meighen, in St Dunstanes Church-yard in Fleet-streete, 1629.
(D) The Faithfull Shepherdesse. acted at Somerset House before the King and Queene on Twelfe night last, 1633. And divers times since with great ap- plause at the Private House in Blacke- Friers, by his Majesties Servants. Written by John Fletcher. The third Edition, with Addition. London, Printed by A.M. for Richard Meighen, next to the Middle Temple in Fleet- street. 1634.
(E) The Faithfull Shepherdesse. Acted at Somerset House, before the King and Queen on Twelf night last, 1633. And divers times since, with great ap- plause, at the Private House in Black- Friers, by his Majesties Servants. Written by John Fletcher. The Fourth Edition. London, Printed for Ga. Bedell and Tho. Collins, at the Middle Temple Gate in Fleet-street. 1656.
(F) The Faithfull Shepherdesse. Acted at Somerset-House, Before the King and Queen on Twelfth Night, 1633. And divers times since, with great Applause, at the Private House in Black-Friers, by his Majesties Servants. Written by John Fletcher. The Fifth Edition. London, Printed for G. Bedell and T. Collins, at the Middle Temple-Gate in Fleet-street, 1665.
The verso of the title-page bears the date March 3, 166-4/5. Licensed, Roger L'Estrange.
As neither the Second Folio nor the Quartos print any list of the Characters it may be as well to give one here.
Perigot. Old Shepherd. Thenot Priest of Pan. Daphnis. God of the River. Alexis. Satyr. Sullen Shepherd. Shepherds. Clorin. Cloe. Amoret. Shepherdesses. Amarillis.
The following Dedicatory Verses were omitted from the Second Folio.
To my lov'd friend M. John Fletcher, on his Pastorall.
Can my approovement (Sir) be worth your thankes? Whose unkn[o]wne name and muse (in swathing clowtes) Is not yet growne to strength, among these rankes To have a roome and beare off the sharpe flowtes Of this our pregnant age, that does despise All innocent verse, that lets alone her vice.
But I must Justifie what privately, I censurd to you: my ambition is (Even by my hopes and love to Poesie) To live to perfect such a worke, as this, Clad in such elegant proprietie Of words, including a mortallitie.
So sweete and profitable, though each man that heares, (And learning has enough to clap and hisse) Arives not too't, so misty it appeares; And to their fi1med reasons, so amisse: But let Art looke in truth, she like a mirror, Reflects [Reflect, C, D] her comfort [consort, D—F], ignorances terror.
Sits in her owne brow, being made afraid, Of her unnaturall complexion, As ougly women (when they are araid By glasses) loath their true reflection, Then how can such opinions injure thee, That tremble, at their owne deformitie?
Opinion, that great foole, makes fooles of all, And (once) I feard her till I met a minde Whose grave instructions philosophical), Toss'd it [is, F] like dust upon a march strong winde, He shall for ever my example be, And his embraced doctrine grow in me.
His soule (and such commend this) that commaund [commands, D, E, F] Such art, it should me better satisfie, Then if the monster clapt his thousand hands, And drownd the sceane with his confused cry; And if doubts rise, loe their owne names to cleare 'em Whilst I am happy but to stand so neere 'em.
These verses are in A, B, C, D, E and F. In A and B they are signed 'N. F.,' in C-F they are signed 'Nath. Field.' The above text is that of A.
To his loving friend M. Jo. Fletcher concerning his Pastorall, being both a Poeme and a play: [concerning...play omitted in D, E, F]
There are no suerties (good friend) will be taken For workes that vulgar-good-name hath forsaken: A Poeme and a play too! why tis like A scholler that's a Poet: their names strike Their pestilence inward, when they take the aire; And kill out right: one cannot both fates beare. But, as a Poet thats no scholler, makes Vulgarity his whiffler, and so takes with ease, & state through both sides prease Of Pageant seers: or as schollers please That are no Poets; more then Poets learnd; Since their art solely, is by soules discerned; The others fals [fall, D, E, F] within the common sence And sheds (like common light) her influence: So, were your play no Poeme, but a thing That every Cobler to his patch might sing: A rout of nifles (like the multitude) With no one limme [limbe, E, F] of any art indude: Like would to like, and praise you: but because, Your poeme onely hath by us applause, Renews the golden world; and holds through all The holy lawes of homely pastorall; Where flowers, and founts, and Nimphs, & semi-Gods, And all the Graces finde their old abods: Where forrests flourish but in endlesse verse; And meddowes, nothing fit for purchasers: This Iron age that eates it selfe, will never Bite at your golden world; that others, ever Lov'd as it selfe: then like your Booke do you Live in ould peace: and that for praise allow.
These lines are in A, C, D, E and F. The text is that of A.
To that noble and true lover of learning, Sir Walter Aston Knight of the Balls.
Sir I must aske your patience, and be trew. This play was never liked, unlesse by few That brought their judgements with um, for of late First the infection, then the common prate Of common people, have such customes got Either to silence plaies, or like them not. Under the last of which this interlude, Had falne for ever prest downe by the rude That like a torrent which the moist south feedes, Drowne's both before him the ripe corne and weedes. Had not the saving sence of better men Redeem'd it from corruption: (deere Sir then) Among the better soules, be you the best In whome, as in a Center I take rest, And propper being: from whose equall eye And judgement, nothing growes but puritie: (Nor do I flatter) for by all those dead, Great in the muses, by Apolloes head, He that ads any thing to you; tis done Like his that lights a candle to the sunne: Then be as you were ever, your selfe still Moved by your judement, not by love, or will And when I sing againe as who can tell My next devotion to that holy well, Your goodnesse to the muses shall be all, Able to make a worke Heroyicall.
Given to your service John Fletcher.
These lines are in A and B.
To the inheritour of all worthines, Sir William Scipwith. Ode.
If from servile hope or love, I may prove But so happy to be thought for Such a one whose greatest ease Is to please (Worthy sir) I have all I sought for,
For no ich of greater name, which some clame By their verses do I show it To the world; nor to protest Tis the best These are leane faults in a poet
Nor to make it serve to feed at my neede Nor to gaine acquaintance by it Nor to ravish kinde Atturnies, in their journies. Nor to read it after diet
Farre from me are all these Ames Fittest frames To build weakenesse on and pitty Onely to your selfe, and such whose true touch Makes all good; let me seeme witty.
The Admirer of your vertues, John Fletcher.
These verses are in A and B.
To the perfect gentleman Sir Robert Townesend.
If the greatest faults may crave Pardon where contrition is (Noble Sir) I needes must have A long one; for a long amisse If you aske me (how is this) Upon my faith Ile tell you frankely, You love above my meanes to thanke yee. Yet according to my Talent As sowre fortune loves to use me A poore Shepheard I have sent, In home-spun gray for to excuse me. And may all my hopes refuse me: But when better comes ashore, You shall have better, newer, more. Til when, like our desperate debters, Or our three pild sweete protesters I must please you in bare letters And so pay my debts; like jesters, Yet I oft have seene good feasters, Onely for to please the pallet, Leave great meat and chuse a sallet.
All yours John Fletcher:
These lines are in A and B.
To the Reader.
If you be not reasonably assurde of your knowledge in this kinde of Poeme, lay downe the booke or read this, which I would wish had bene the prologue. It is a pastorall Tragic-comedie, which the people seeing when it was plaid, having ever had a singuler guift in defining, concluded to be a play of contry hired Shepheards, in gray cloakes, with curtaild dogs in strings, sometimes laughing together, and sometimes killing one another: And misling whitsun ales, creame, wasiel & morris-dances, began to be angry. In their error I would not have you fall, least you incurre their censure. Understand therefore a pastorall to be a representation of shepheards and shephearddesses, with their actions and passions, which must be such as may agree with their natures at least not exceeding former fictions, & vulgar traditions: they are not to be adorn'd with any art, but such improper ones as nature is said to bestow, as singing and Poetry, or such as experience may teach them, as the vertues of hearbs, & fountaines: the ordinary course of the Sun, moone, and starres, and such like. But you are ever to remember Shepherds to be such, as all the ancient Poets and moderne of understanding have receaved them: that is, the owners of flockes and not hyerlings. A tragie-comedie is not so called in respect of mirth and killing, but in respect it wants deaths, which is inough to make it no tragedie, yet brings some neere it, which is inough to make it no comedie: which must be a representation of familiar people, with such kinde of trouble as no life be questiond, so that a God is as lawfull in this as in a tragedie, and meane people as in a comedie. This much I hope will serve to justifie my Poeme, and make you understand it, to teach you more for nothing, I do not know that I am in conscience bound.
This address is in A and B.
Unto his worthy friend Mr Joseph Taylor upon his presentment of the Faithfull Sheperdesse before the King and Queene, at White-hall, on Twelfth night [F stops here] last. 1633.
When this smooth Pastorall was first brought forth, The Age twas borne in, did not know it's worth. Since by thy cost, and industry reviv'd, It hath a new fame, and new birth atchiv'd. Happy in that shee found in her distresse, A friend, as faithfull, as her Shepherdesse. For having cur'd her from her courser rents, And deckt her new with fresh habiliments, Thou brought'st her to the Court, and made [mad'st, F] her be A fitting spectacle for Majestie. So have I seene a clowded beauty drest In a rich vesture, shine above the rest. Yet did it not receive more honour from The glorious pompe, then thine owne action. Expect no satisfaction for the same, Poets can render no reward but Fame. Yet this Ile prophesie, when thou shall come Into the confines of Elysium Amidst the Quire of Muses, and the lists Of famous Actors, and quicke Dramatists, So much admir'd for gesture, and for wit, That there on Seats of living Marble sit, The blessed Consort of that numerous Traine, Shall rise with an applause to [and, E and F] entertaine Thy happy welcome, causing thee sit downe, And with a Lawrell-wreath thy temples crowne. And mean time, while this Poeme shall be read, Taylor, thy name shall be eternized. For it is just, that thou, who first did'st give Unto this booke a life, by it shouldst live.
These lines are in D, E and F. The text is that of D. The variations in the dedicatory verses printed in the Second Folio will be found on p. 523.
p. 372, l. 3. A-F] Actus Primi. l. 13. A and B omit] jolly. C some copies] merry games. l. 15. A, B and D] brows be girt.
p. 373, l. 6. A and B] That I will I. l. 19. F misprints] fair heap.
P-375, l. 12. A and B] these Groves. l. 17. A and B] mires. A and B omit] to find my ruine. l. 27. A-F omit] him. l. 29. C and D] have gone this. l. 30. A-F] his rights. l. 33. 2nd Folio misprints] yours.
p. 376, l. 10. A-D] livers.
P. 377, l. 13. A and B] fall speedily. l. 14. A-D] let me goe. l. 21. A-F] seaman. l. 22. A and B] than the straightest.
p. 378, l. 19. A and B] our soules. l. 40. C] The gentle.
p. 379, l. 11. A and B] a wild. l. 18. A and B] Enter an other Shepheardesse that is in love with Perigot.
p. 381, l. 4. 2nd Folio misprints] ever. l. 11. A, B and F] their weaning. l. 18. A and B] Enter Sullen. F] Enter sullen Shepherd. l. 19. A, B and F for Shep, (character) read] Sul. l. 37. A-C omit character] Shep. D-F print] Sull.
p. 382, l. 8. A-F for Shep.] Sul. l. 25. 2nd Folio] sufficient, great to. l. 26. F] eye. l. 28. A and B] has foile enough. l. 38. A-F] dares.
p. 383, l. 5. A-D omit] likewise. C] ayre is fresh. l. 10. A-C] are grown. A-D] Woodbines. l. 26. A-D] eare of Maid. E and F] eare of maids. l. 27. C and D] I love. l. 29. A] so sure a Mold. B-F] so sure the Molde.
p. 384, l. 7. A-F] whose words. l. 13. 2nd Folio] dost,
p, 385, l. 2. A-C] hee is here.
p. 386, l. 21. A and B] grief and tine. l. 30. A-C] raine. l. 35. A-D] swains more meeter. l. 36. A and B] Than these. l. 38. A-D] Hide.
p. 387, l. 3. A-D] hath been. l. 7. F] Titans.
p. 388, l. 3. A-D] lowde falling. l. 21. A] his walkes keep. l. 32. F omits] great. l. 34. A] high birth. l. 36. A] born a most.
p. 389, l. 1. A] did lop. l. 2. A] told me. l. 6. A] teeth. l. 8. A omits] fast. l. 14. A] Formentill. l. 16. A-F] roote. A-D and F] swellings best. l. 31. A] wanton forces. l. 39. A] and with joy.
p. 390, l. 1. A] Enter Shepheard. l. 2. A] Shep. and so throughout. l. 10. A] make. l. 15. A and C] you blessed. l. 16. A] brightly. l. 19. A] That stiled is the. l. 36. A-C] into a stround.
p. 391, l. 1. C] eies. l. 14. C] Thy way. l. 16. 2nd Folio misprints] Chor. l. 24. A omits] Then. (char.). l. 30. A] flame.
p. 392, l. 4. A] Orions. l. 5. A-D] woven. l. 6. A-C] unfould. l. 7. A] The errant soul. A-D] not the true. l. 9. A] Alpen. l. 13. A] you do keep. l. 14. E] that are begotten. l. 30. A-C] for their. l. 31. A and B] To seat them.
p. 393, l. 3. A-D] Doe, and let. l. 6. A-C omit] that here. D omits] that. l. 9. A-F] mourning. A-F] Ewe. l. 18. A, B and D] For never did. l. 21. 2nd Folio misprints] then. l. 23. A-D] Shootes. l. 26. A and B] And present. l. 31. 2nd Folio misprints] maiden. l. 35. A-D] highly praise.
p. 394, l. 4. C] ne're knit that eye. l. 17. C] her shame. l. 30. A-F] As grinnes. l. 31. A] at Conies, Squirrels.
P. 395, l. 1. A-F] stronger way. l. 26. A and B] dipt over.
p. 396, l. 8. A and B insert before Enter Daphnis] Actus secundus Scena quarta. l. 14. A-D] thy Shepherds. l. 19. A and B] My flame. l. 34. 2nd Folio misprints] blesseds. l. 35. A-F insert Enter Alexis after l. 36.
p. 397, l. 10. A-D] those. l. 16. A and B] hold her. l. 20. A-C] though with.
p. 399, l. 2. A-F] These rights. l. 17. A-C] Enter the. l. 27. C] the feet.
p. 400, l. 21. A-C] She awaketh. l. 23. A-F] Magick right. l. 27. A and B] thus reformd thee. l. 31. C and D omit] that.
p. 401, l. 6. A and C] moone beams. l. 7. A-D and F] true shape. l. 13. C] your sacred. l. 24. A, D and F] she hath got. l. 37. A-F] of Lyon. A and B] or of Bear.
p. 402, l. 22. A and B] Ile followe, and for this thy care of me. C omits the line. l. 27. A-F] with a.
p. 403, l. 29. A-E] never thou shalt move.
p. 404, l. 33. A and B read] Alex. Oh! Sat. Speake againe thou mortall wight. l. 34. A and B omit] Sat.
p. 405, l. 3. A-C] beheld you shaggy. l. 17. A and B] O stray. l. 25. A-F] Who I did. l. 29. A-C] Enter the.
p. 406, l. 2. A and B] of a Amoret. l. 3. A and B] But all these. l. 29. A and B] swear, Beloved Perigot. l. 37. A-D] then that young.
p. 407, l. 4. A and B] How should. l. 11. C] take my Amoret. l. 30. A and B read] div'd art, art not. l. 36. F] still as. l. 37. C] Though others shows. l. 38. C] and rest my.
p. 408, l. 18. A and B omit] in her own shape. l. 26. A and B omit] Ama. l. 28. A and B add Amoret after path.
p. 409, l. 17. A-D] He flings her.
p. 410, l. 4. A and B] locke. l. 11. F] bank.
p. 411, l. 9. A-C] silver string.
p. 412, l. 2. E] Leave there gravel. l. 20. A-F add] Exit. l. 22. A and B add] Finis Actus Tertis. l. 23. A and B omit] Actus Quartus. Scena Prima. l. 34. A and B] Perigot to Enter. Amaryllis, running.
p. 413, l. 2. A-F] heavy Clowdes. l. 18. A-C] of his breath.
p. 414, l. 35. A-D] happy bower.
p. 415, l. 7. A-F] Will undo his. l. 10. A-F] holy rights. l. 11. A-D] the feared. l. 22. A and B] the Gwomes. l. 35. A and B] thie wound. C] thy wound.
p. 416, l. 20. A—D] Now a gapes. l. 31. A—F] to this destiny.
p. 417, l. 1. A-D] not possible. l. 2. A and B] all heates, desires. l. 3. A-F] thoughts. l. 9. A and B] Playsters.
p. 418, l. 1. A and B] To deserve the. l. 11. A-C] sought it. l. 13. A-C] or shade. l. 15. A-C] but I.
p. 419, l. 7. A and B] imagination. l. 26. 2nd Folio misprints] thy and. l. 30. A and B omit] Exit Amoret.
p. 420, l. 26. A-D] thy lazy. l. 36. A-D] looking of Perigot.
p. 421, l. 2. A and B omit] art. E, F and 2nd Folio] thou darest. l. 12. A-F] Ribandes. l. 14. A-C omit] the. l. 17. A and B] those too little. l. 28. C] a fact so. l. 30. A and B] Came flowing. C] Come flying.
p. 422, l. 10. A and B] men, most. l. 12. F] thy vows. l. 13. 2nd Folio] help. l. 17. A-F] till Crosse fate. l. 26. C] seeks. l. 30. A and B omit] Per.
p. 423, l. 14. A and B] esteeme.
p. 424, l. 11. A and B] denye. l. 18. C] sent my gloves. l. 26. A and B] bread.
p. 425, l. 1. A-C] light shutts like. l. 23. A-D] vild.
p. 426, l. 5. 2nd Folio] beings.
p. 427, l. 10. A-C omit] to. l. 19. A-C] once loose both my. l. 27. 2nd Folio misprints] be. l. 36. A and B] Inconstance.
p. 428, l. 6. A-D] shalt. l. 9. A-D] know thee light. l. 16. A-D] that gave such. l. 19. A and B add] Finis Actus quartus. l. 24. A-D] windowes.
p. 429, l. 14. A-C] coate. l. 22. A-D add] and Amarillis. l. 31. C] sexes voice and.
p. 430, l. 5. A-F] that doth thy. l. 6. A and B] but held to. l. 12. A-F] Durst a toucht. l. 22. A-C] will bide.
p. 432, l. 33. A-F] mornings.
p. 433, l. 39. A and B omit] The.
p. 434, l. 2. C-F] those. l. 3. A and B] this long night. C omits] same. l. 5. C] eares. l. 12. F omits] and. l. 19. A-C omit] thou.
p. 435, l. 7. F] I am. l. 16. A-F] thy chaste. l. 18. A-F] God. l. 25. A—D omit] To live. A-C] never after to.
p. 436, l. 3. A and C] thy smiling. l. 21. A and B] any men may. l. 29. A-C omit] a. l. 33. A and B] willd. C] will. l. 38. A-C omit] Exeunt.
p. 437, l. 1. A-F] hand. l. 2. A and B] in the mornings. l. 6. A-F] hand. l. 34. A-D] On these other.
p. 438, l. 7. A-D] Whose base end is. l. 22. A and B] Thers a hand. C] Thers at hand. l. 39. A and B] kneeleth.
p. 439, l. 7. A-C] Sticke once. l. 8. A-C] O canst thou. C] leave me. l. 9. A and C] soon could I. l. 20. A-D] Perhaps will cleanse thee once again. l. 24. A-F] are appeas'd. l. 27. 2nd Folio] Shephered.
p. 440, l. 14. A and B] their live. l. 18. A and B omit] take a pair. l. 23. 2nd Folio] offenders,;
p. 441, l. 13. 2nd Folio misprints] bouble. l. 20. A and B omit] and disgrace. l. 35. C] brings Amoret in.
p. 442, l. 23. A-C] wrong in. l. 28. 2nd Folio misprints] let let. C] wanton lusters. l. 29. A-F] rights. l. 30. A-E] Shepheards, l. 39. A-C] complement.
p. 443, l. 1. A-C omit] still. l. 4. A-C for Alex.} All. l. 7. A and B] bless you after. l. 34. C] or bancks.
p. 444, l. 14. 2nd Folio misprints] must. l. 16. C] tresses. l. 23. A and B] of the night. l. 24. C] me light. l. 26. A and B] bring the Coral. l. 33. A and B] I venter. l. 36. A-C] these Thicks.
p. 445, l. 9. 2nd Folio misprints] Cle. l. 10. A-F add] Finis. A and B add also] The Pastorall of the faithfull Shepheardesse.
p. 446, l. 6. A-D] with the. l. 14. A and C] this vaine. 2nd Folio] vain. l. 26. A-F] wants. l. 28. A-C] Some like if. A-D omit] not. l. 29. A-D] judgments. l. 32. A-C] aright to thee. D] a right to thee.
p. 447, l. 8. A and B] much will and. l. 10. A-C omit] now.
pp. 446-7. The lines by Fr. Beaumont are contained in A-F.
p. 447. The lines by Ben Jonson are contained in A and C-F.
p. 448. The Dialogue is contained in D-F.
END OF VOL. II.