_Fred._ Ah Cloris! do not question what I’ve sworn; If thou would’st have it once again repeated, I’ll do’t. By all that’s good, I’ll marry thee; By that most Holy Altar, before which we kneel’d, When first I saw the brightest Saint that e’er ador’d it; I’ll marry none but thee, my dearest _Cloris_. _Clo._ Sir, you have said enough to gain a credit With any Maid, though she had been deceiv’d By some such Flatteries as these before. I never knew the pains of Fear till now; [Sighs. And you must needs forgive the Faults you make, For had I still remain’d in Innocence, I should have still believ’d you. _Fred._ Why, dost thou not, my Love? _Clo._ Some doubts I have, but when I look on you, Though I must blush to do so, they all vanish; But I provide against your absence, Sir. _Fred._ Make no provision, _Cloris_, but of Hope, Prepare thy self against a Wedding day, When thou shalt be a little Deity on Earth. _Clo._ I know not what it is to dwell in Courts, But sure it must be fine, since you are there; Yet I could wish you were an humble Shepherd, And knew no other Palace than this Cottage; Where I would weave you Crowns, of Pinks and Daisies, And you should be a Monarch every _May_. _Fred._ And, _Cloris_, I could be content to sit With thee, upon some shady River’s Bank, To hear thee sing, and tell a Tale of Love. For these, alas! I could do any thing; A Sheep-hook I could prize above a Sword; An Army I would quit to lead a Flock, And more esteem that Chaplet wreath’d by thee, Than the victorious Bays: All this I could, but, Dear, I have a Father, Whom for thy sake, to make thee great and glorious, I would not lose my Int’rest with. But, _Cloris_, see, the unkind day approaches, And we must kiss and part. _Clo._ Unkind it is indeed, may it prove so To all that wish its presence, And pass as soon away, That welcome Night may re-assume its place, And bring you quickly back. _Fred._ With great impatience I’ll expect that Hour, That shall conduct me in its Shades to thee; Farewel. _Clo._ Farewel, Sir, if you must be gone. [Sighs. _Fred._ One Kiss, and then indeed I will be gone. [Kisses her. A new blown Rose kist by the Morning Dew, Has not more natural Sweetness. Ah _Cloris_! can you doubt that Heart, To whom such Blessings you impart? Unjustly you suspect that Prize, Won by such Touches and such Eyes. My Fairest, turn that Face away, Unless I could for ever stay; Turn but a little while I go. _Clo._ Sir, I must see the last of you. _Fred._ I dare not disobey; adieu till Evening. [Exit. Enter _Lucia_. _Clo._ How now, _Lucia_; is my Father up? _Luc._ No, not a Mouse stirs yet; I have kept a true Watch all this Night, for I was cruelly afraid Lest we should have been surpriz’d-- Is the Prince gone? but why do I ask, That may read it in your sad Looks?