The Faithful Shepherdess. Beaumont Francis

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      Old Shep. Now we have done this holy Festival

      In honour of our great God, and his rites

      Perform'd, prepare your selves for chaste

      And uncorrupted fires: that as the Priest,

      With powerful hand shall sprinkle on [your] Brows

      His pure and holy water, ye may be

      From all hot flames of lust, and loose thoughts free.

      Kneel Shepherds, kneel, here comes the Priest of Pan.

      Priest. Shepherds, thus I purge away,

      Whatsoever this great day,

      Or the past hours gave not good,

      To corrupt your Maiden blood:

      From the high rebellious heat

      Of the Grapes, and strength of meat;

      From the wanton quick desires,

      They do kindle by their fires,

      I do wash you with this water,

      Be you pure and fair hereafter.

      From your Liver and your Veins,

      Thus I take away the stains.

      All your thoughts be smooth and fair,

      Be ye fresh and free as Air.

      Never more let lustful heat

      Through your purged conduits beat,

      Or a plighted troth be broken,

      Or a wanton verse be spoken

      In a Shepherdesses ear;

      Go your wayes, ye are all clear.

                           [They rise and sing in praise of Pan.

      Sing his praises that doth keep

        Our Flocks from harm,

      Pan the Father of our Sheep,

        And arm in arm

      Tread we softly in a round,

      Whilest the hollow neighbouring ground

      Fills the Musick with her sound.

      Pan, O great God Pan, to thee

        Thus do we sing:

      Thou that keep'st us chaste and free

        As the young spring,

      Ever be thy honour spoke,

      From that place the morn is broke,

      To that place Day doth unyoke.

                     [Exeunt omnes but Perigot and Amoret.

      Peri. Stay gentle Amoret, thou fair brow'd Maid,

      Thy Shepherd prays thee stay, that holds thee dear,

      Equal with his souls good.

      Amo. Speak; I give

      Thee freedom Shepherd, and thy tongue be still

      The same it ever was; as free from ill,

      As he whose conversation never knew

      The Court or City be thou ever true.

      Peri. When I fall off from my affection,

      Or mingle my clean thoughts with foul desires,

      First let our great God cease to keep my flocks,

      That being left alone without a guard,

      The Wolf, or Winters rage, Summers great heat,

      And want of Water, Rots; or what to us

      Of ill is yet unknown, full speedily,

      And in their general ruine let me feel.

      Amo. I pray thee gentle Shepherd wish not so,

      I do believe thee: 'tis as hard for me

      To think thee false, and harder than for thee

      To hold me foul.

      Peri. O you are fairer far

      Than the chaste blushing morn, or that fair star

      That guides the wandring Sea-men through the deep,

      Straighter than straightest Pine upon the steep

      Head of an aged mountain, and more white

      Than the new Milk we strip before day-light

      From the full fraighted bags of our fair flocks:

      Your hair more beauteous than those hanging locks

      Of young Apollo.

      Amo. Shepherd be not lost,

      Y'are sail'd too far already from the Coast

      Of our discourse.

      Peri. Did you not tell me once

      I should not love alone, I should not lose

      Those many passions, vows, and holy Oaths,

      I've sent to Heaven? did you not give your hand,

      Even that fair hand in hostage? Do not then

      Give back again those sweets to other men,

      You your self vow'd were mine.

      Amo. Shepherd, so far as Maidens modesty

      May give assurance, I am once more thine,

      Once more I give my hand; be ever free

      From that great foe to faith, foul jealousie.

      Peri. I take it as my best good, and desire

      For stronger confirmation of our love,

      To meet this happy night in that fair Grove,

      Where all true Shepherds have rewarded been

      For their long service: say sweet, shall it hold?

      Amo. Dear friend, you must not blame me if I make

      A doubt of what the silent night may do,

      Coupled with this dayes heat to move your bloud:

      Maids must be fearful; sure you have not been

      Wash'd white enough; for yet I see a stain

      Stick in your Liver, go and purge again.

      Peri. O do not wrong my honest simple truth,

      My self and my affections are as pure

      As those chaste flames that burn before the СКАЧАТЬ