_Sac._ Hard by, for solace, in a secret grove, The county once a-day fails not to walk: There solemnly he ruminates his love. Upon those shrubs that compass-in the spring, And on those trees that border-in those walks, I'll slily have engrav'n on every bark The names of Medor and Angelica. Hard by, I'll have some roundelays hung up, Wherein shall be some posies of their loves, Fraughted so full of fiery passions As that the county shall perceive by proof Medor hath won his fair Angelica.
_Sac._ No; for thou like to a shepherd shalt be cloth'd, With staff and bottle, like some country-swain That tends his flocks feeding upon these downs. Here see thou buzz into the county's ears That thou hast often seen within these woods Base Medor sporting with Angelica; And when he hears a shepherd's simple tale, He will not think 'tis feign'd. Then either a madding mood will end his love, Or worse betide him through fond jealousy.
_Man._ Excellent, my lord; see how I will play the shepherd.
_Sac._ And mark thou how I play the carver: Therefore be gone, and make thee ready straight. [_Exit his_ Man.
[SACRIPANT _carves the names and hangs up the roundelays on the trees, and then goes out._
_Re-enter his_ Man _attired like a shepherd._
_Shep._ Thus all alone, and like a shepherd's swain, As Paris, when Œnone lov'd him well, Forgat he was the son of Priamus, All clad in grey, sat piping on a reed; So I transformèd to this country shape, Haunting these groves do work my master's will, To plague the Palatine with jealousy, And to conceit him with some deep extreme.-- Here comes the man unto his wonted walk.
_Orl._ Orgalio, go see a sentinel be plac'd, And bid the soldiers keep a court-of-guard, So to hold watch till secret here alone I meditate upon the thoughts of love.
_Orl._ Fair queen of love, thou mistress of delight, Thou gladsome lamp that wait'st on Phœbe's train, Spreading thy kindness through the jarring orbs, That in their union praise thy lasting powers; Thou that hast stay'd the fiery Phlegon's course, And mad'st the coachman of the glorious wain To droop, in view of Daphne's excellence; Fair pride of morn, sweet beauty of the even,[151] Look on Orlando languishing in love. Sweet solitary groves, whereas the nymphs With pleasance laugh to see the satyrs play, Witness Orlando's faith unto his love. Tread she these lawnds, kind Flora, boast thy pride. Seek she for shade, spread, cedars, for her sake. Fair Flora, make her couch amidst thy flowers. Sweet crystal springs, Wash ye with roses when she longs to drink. Ah, thought, my heaven! ah, heaven, that knows my thought! Smile, joy in her that my content hath wrought.