That hallo I should know. What are you? speak.
Come not too near; you fall on iron stakes else.
SPIR. What voice is that? my young Lord? speak again.
SEC. BRO. O brother, Tt is my father's Shepherd, sure.
ELD. BRO. Thyrsis! whose artful strains have of delayed
The huddling brook to hear his madrigal,
And sweetened every musk-rose of the dale.
How camest thou here, good swain? Hath any ram
Slipped from the fold, or young kid lost his dam,
Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook?
How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook?
SPIR. O my loved master's heir, and his next joy,
I came not here on such a trivial toy
As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth
Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth
That doth enrich these downs is worth a thought
To this my errand, and the care it brought.
But, oh ! my virgin Lady, where is she?
How chance she is not in your company?
ELD. BRO. To tell thee sadly, Shepherd, without blame
Or our neglect, we lost her as we came.
SPIR. Ay me unhappy! then my fears are true.
ELD. BRO. What fears, good Thyrsis? Prithee briefly
shew.
SPIR. I'll tell ye. 'T is not vain or fabulous
(Though so esteemed by shallow igrlorance)
What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly Muse,
Storied of old in high immortal verse
Of dire Chimeras and enchanted isles,
And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to Hell;