_Clo._ Let me embrace thee.

_Clor._ Take her hence,
Lest her sight disturb his sence.

_Alex._ Take not her, take my life first.

_Clor._ See, his wound again is burst:
Keep her near, here in the Wood,
Till I ha' stopt these Streams of Blood.
Soon again he ease shall find,
If I can but still his mind:
This Curtain thus I do display,
To keep the piercing air away.

_Enter_ old Shepherd, _and_ Priest.

_Priest_. Sure they are lost for ever; 'tis in vain
To find 'em out with trouble and much pain,
That have a ripe desire, and forward will
To flye the Company of all but ill,
What shall be counsel'd now? shall we retire?
Or constant follow still that first desire
We had to find them?

_Old_. Stay a little while;
For if the Morning mist do not beguile
My sight with shadows, sure I see a Swain;
One of this jolly Troop's come back again.