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 How couldt thou find this darke equeter'd nook?
 * Spir. O my lov'd maters heire, and his next joy

I came not here on uch a triviall toy As a trayd Ewe, or to purue the tealth Of pilfering wolfe, not all the fleecie wealth That doth enrich thee downs is worth a thought To this my errand, and the care it brought. But ô my virgin Ladie where is he, How chance he is not in your companie?
 * Eld bro. To tell thee adly hepheard, without blame

Or our neglect, wee lot her as wee came.
 * Spir. Aye me unhappie then my fears are true.
 * Eld bro. What fears, good Thyris? prethee briefly hew.
 * Spir. Ile tell you, 'tis not vaine, or fabulous

(Though o eteemd by hallow ignorance) What the age Poëts taught by th'heavenly Mue Storied of old in high immortall vere Of dire Chimera's and inchanted Iles And rifted rocks whoe entrance leads to hell, For uch there be, but unbeliefe is blind.
 * Within the navill of this hideous wood

Immur'd in cypree hades a Sorcerer dwells Of Bacchus, and of Circe borne, great Comus, Deepe skill'd in all his mothers witcheries, And here to every thirtie wanderer By lie enticement gives his banefull cup With many murmurs mixt, whoe pleaing poion The viage quite tranforms of him that drinks, And the inglorious likenee of a beat Fixes intead, unmoulding reaons mintage Character'd in the face; this have I learn't Tending my flocks hard by i'th hilly crofts That