_Enter_ Clorin.

_Clor_. See where he lyes; did ever man but he
Love any woman for her Constancie
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 loyaltie:
_Shepherd_, look up.

_The_. Thy brightness doth amaze!
So _Phoebus_ may at noon bid mortals gaze,
Thy glorious constancie appears so bright,
I dare not meet the Beams with my weak sight.

_Clor_. Why dost thou pine away thy self for me?

_The_. Why dost thou keep such spotless constancie?

_Clor_. Thou holy _Shepherd_, see what for thy sake
_Clorin_, thy _Clorin_, now dare under take. [_He starts up_.

_The_. 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.

_Clor_. See what a holy vow for thee I break.