Enter Thenot.

The. Poor shepherd, in this shade for ever lie,
And seeing thy fair Clorin’s cabin, die!

[Lying down.

Re-enter Clorin.

Clo. See, where he lies! Did ever man but he
Love any woman for her constancy
To her dead lover, which she needs must end
Before she can allow him for her friend,
And he himself must needs the cause destroy
For which he loves, before he can enjoy?
Poor shepherd, Heaven grant I at once may free
Thee from thy pain, and keep my loyalty!—

[Aside.

The.
Thy brightness doth amaze;
So phœbus may at noon bid mortals gaze;
Thy glorious constancy appears so bright,
I dare not meet the beams with my weak sight.

Clo. Why dost thou pine away thyself for me?

The. Why dost thou keep such spotless constancy?

Clo. Thou holy shepherd, see what for thy sake
Clorin, thy Clorin, now dare undertake.

The. [Starting up.] Stay there, thou constant Clorin! if there be
Yet any part of woman left in thee,
To make thee light, think yet before thou speak.

Clo. See, what a holy vow for thee I break;
I, that already have my fame far spread
For being constant to my lover dead.

The. Think yet, dear Clorin, of your love; how true,
If you had died, he would have been to you.

Clo. Yet, all I’ll lose for thee—

The.
Think but how blest
A constant woman is above the rest!

Clo. And offer up myself, here on this ground,
To be disposed by thee.

The. Why dost thou wound
His heart with malice against women more,
That hated all the sex but thee before?
How much more pleasant had it been to me
To die than to behold this change in thee!
Yet, yet return; let not the woman sway!

Clo. Insult not on her now, nor use delay,
Who for thy sake hath ventured all her fame.

The. Thou hast not ventured, but bought certain shame:
Your sex’s curse, foul falsehood, must and shall,
I see, once in your lives, light on you all.
I hate thee now. Yet turn!

Clo. Be just to me:
Shall I at once lose both my fame and thee?