Act 2 — [Scene III.][3454]

Sull. Shep. I do not love this wench that I should meet; For ne’er did my unconstant eye yet greet That beauty, were it sweeter or more fair Than the new blossoms when the morning-air Blows gently on them, or the breaking light,5 When many maiden-blushes to our sight Shoot from his early face: were all these set In some neat form before me, ’t would not get The least love from me; some desire it might, And present burning. All to me in sight10 Are equal; be they fair, or black, or brown, Virgin, or careless wanton, I can crown My appetite with any; swear as oft, And weep, as any; melt my words as soft Into a maiden’s ears, and tell how long15 My heart has been her servant, and how strong My passions are; call her unkind and cruel; Offer her all I have to gain the jewel Maidens so highly [prize]:[3455] then loathe, and fly: This do I hold a blessed destiny.20

Amar. Hail, shepherd! Pan bless both thy flock and thee, For being mindful of thy word to me! Sull. Shep. Welcome, fair shepherdess! Thy loving swain Gives thee the self-same wishes back again;24 Who till this present hour ne’er knew that eye Could make me cross mine arms, or daily die With fresh consumings. Boldly tell me, then, How shall we part their faithful loves, and when? Shall I belie him to her? Shall I swear His faith is false and he loves every where?30 I ’ll say he mockt her th’ other day to you; Which will by your confirming show as true, For [she][3456] is of so pure an honesty, To think, because [she][3456] will not, none will lie. Or else to him I ’ll slander Amoret,35 And say, she but seems chaste; I ’ll swear she met Me ’mongst the shady sycamores last night, And loosely off’red up her flame and sprite Into my bosom; made a wanton bed39 Of leaves and many flowers, where she spread Her willing body to be prest by me; There have I carv’d her name on many a tree, Together with mine own. To make this show More full of seeming,—Hobinal, you know, Son to the aged shepherd of the glen,45 Him I have sorted out of many men, To say he found us at our private sport, And rous’d us ’fore our time by his resort. This to confirm, I’ve promis’d to the boy Many a pretty knack and many a toy;50 As gins to catch him birds, with bow and bolt To shoot at conies,[3457] squirrels, in the holt; A pair of painted buskins, and a lamb Soft as his own locks or the down of swan. This I have done to win you; which doth give Me double pleasure: discord makes me live.56 Amar. Lov’d swain, I thank ye. These tricks might prevail With other rustic shepherds, but will fail Even once to stir, much more to overthrow,59 His fixed love from judgment, who doth know Your nature, my end, and his chosen’s merit; Therefore some stronger way must force his spirit, Which I have found: give second, and my love Is everlasting thine. Sull. Shep. Try me, and prove. Amar. These happy pair of lovers meet straightway,65 Soon as they fold their flocks up with the day, In the thick grove bordering upon yon hill, In whose hard side nature hath carv’d a well, And, but that matchless spring which poets know, Was ne’er the like to this. By it doth grow,70 About the sides, all herbs which witches use, All simples good for medicine or abuse, All sweets that crown the happy nuptial day, With all their colours; there the month of May Is ever dwelling, all is young and green;75 There’s not a grass on which was ever seen The falling autumn or cold winter’s hand; So full of heat and virtue is the land About this fountain, which doth slowly break, Below yon mountain’s foot, into a creek80 That waters all the valley, giving fish Of many sorts to fill the shepherd’s dish. This holy well, my grandam that is dead, Right wise in charms, hath often to me said, Hath power to change the form of any creature, Being thrice dipt o’er the head, into what feature86 Or shape ’t would please the letter-down to crave, Who must pronounce this charm too, which she gave [Showing a scroll.] Me on her death-bed; told me what, and how, I should apply unto the patients’ brow90 That would be chang’d, casting them thrice asleep, Before I trusted them into this deep. All this she show’d me, and did charge me prove This secret of her art, if crost in love. I ’ll this attempt now, shepherd; I have here95 All her prescriptions, and I will not fear To be myself dipt. Come, my temples bind With these sad herbs, and when I sleep you find, As you do speak your charm, thrice down me let, And bid the water raise me Amoret;100 Which being done, leave me to my affair, And ere the day shall quite itself outwear, I will return unto my shepherd’s arm; Dip me again, and then repeat this charm, And pluck me up myself, whom freely take, And the hott’st fire of thine affection slake.106 Sull. Shep. And if I fit thee not, then fit not me. I long the truth of this well’s power to see. Exeunt.