Shall I at once both lose my fame and thee?

_The_. Thou hadst no fame, that which thou didst like good,
Was but thy appetite that sway'd thy blood
For that time to the best: for as a blast
That through a house comes, usually doth cast
Things out of order, yet by chance may come,
And blow some one thing to his proper room;
So did thy appetite, and not thy zeal,
Sway thee [by] chance to doe some one thing well.
Yet turn.

_Clor_. Thou dost but try me if I would
Forsake thy dear imbraces, for my old
Love's, though he were alive: but do not fear.

_The_. I do contemn thee now, and dare come near,
And gaze upon thee; for me thinks that grace,
Austeritie, which sate upon that face
Is gone, and thou like others: false maid see,
This is the gain of foul inconstancie. [_Exit_.

_Clor_. 'Tis done, great _Pan_ I give thee thanks for it,
What art could not have heal'd, is cur'd by wit.

_Enter_ Thenot, _again_.

_The_. Will ye be constant yet? will ye remove
Into the Cabin to your buried Love?