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Hovering, and ſitting by a new made grave
As loath to leave the body that it lov'd,
And link'd it ſelfe by carnall ſenſualtie
To a degenerate and degraded ſtate.
2 Bro. How charming is divine Philoſophie!
Not harſh and crabbed, as dull fools ſuppoſe,
But muſicall as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetuall feaſt of nectar'd ſweets
Where no crude ſurfet raigns.El. bro. Liſt, liſt I heare
Some farre off hallow breake the ſilent aire.
2 Bro. Me thought ſo too, what ſhould it be?
Eld. bro. For certaine
Either ſome one like us night founder'd here,
Or elſe ſome neighbour wood man, or at worſt
Some roaving robber calling to his fellows.
2 Bro. Heav'n keepe my ſiſter, agen agen, and neere,
Beſt draw, and ſtand upon our guard.
Eld. bro. Ile hallow,
If he be friendly he comes well, if not
Defence is a good cauſe, and Heav'n be for us.
That hallow I should know, what are you, ſpeake,
Come not too neere, you fall on iron ſtakes elſe.
Spir. What voice is that, my yong Lord? speak agen.
2 Bro. O brother 'tis my father Shepheard ſure.
Eld. bro. Thyrſis? whoſe artfull ſtrains have oft delayd
The huddling brook to heare his madrigale,
And ſweeten'd every muskroſe of the dale,
How cam'ſt thou here good Swaine, hath any ram
Slip't from the fold, or yong kid loſt his dam,
Or ſtraggling weather the pen't flock forſook,
