Of me, and all that I can make,
Or else by him my loue denie,
And then Ile studie how to die

Sil. Call you this chiding?
Cel. Alas poore Shepheard

Ros. Doe you pitty him? No, he deserues no pitty:
wilt thou loue such a woman? what to make thee an instrument,
and play false straines vpon thee? not to be endur'd.
Well, goe your way to her; (for I see Loue hath
made thee a tame snake) and say this to her; That if she
loue me, I charge her to loue thee: if she will not, I will
neuer haue her, vnlesse thou intreat for her: if you bee a
true louer hence, and not a word; for here comes more
company.

Exit. Sil.

Enter Oliuer.

Oliu. Good morrow, faire ones: pray you, (if you | know)
Where in the Purlews of this Forrest, stands
A sheep-coat, fenc'd about with Oliue-trees

Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom
The ranke of Oziers, by the murmuring streame
Left on your right hand, brings you to the place:
But at this howre, the house doth keepe it selfe,
There's none within