_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, fly thou day. [_Exit._ _Cloe._ My grief is great if both these boyes should fail: He that will use all winds must shift his sail. [_Exit._ _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima._ _Enter an old_ Shepherd, _with a bell ringing, and the Priest of Pan following._