A
Pastoral
DIALOGUE
between
Two
Shepherdesses
.
Silvia
.
PRetty
Nymph
!
within
this
Shade
,
Whilst
the
Flocks
to
rest
are
laid
,
Whilst
the
World
dissolves
in
Heat
,
Take
this
cool
,
and
flow'ry
Seat
And
with
pleasing
Talk
a
while
Let
us
two
the
Time
beguile
;
Tho'
thou
here
no
Shepherd
see
,
To
encline
his
humble
Knee
,
Or
with
melancholy
Lays
Sing
thy
dangerous
Beauty's
Praise
.
Dorinda
.
Nymph
!
with
thee
I
here
wou'd
stay
,
But
have
heard
,
that
on
this
Day
,
Near
those
Beeches
,
scarce
in
view
,
All
the
Swains
some
Mirth
pursue
:
To
whose
meeting
now
I
haste
.
Solitude
do's
Life
but
waste
.
Silvia
.
Prithee
,
but
a
Moment
stay
.
Dorinda
.
No
!
my
Chaplet
wou'd
decay
;
Ev'ry
drooping
Flow'r
wou'd
mourn
,
And
wrong
the
Face
,
they
shou'd
adorn
.
Silvia
.
I
can
tell
thee
,
tho'
so
Fair
,
And
dress'd
with
all
that
rural
Care
,
Most
of
the
admiring
Swains
Will
be
absent
from
the
Plains
.
Gay
Sylvander
in
the
Dance
Meeting
with
a
shrew'd
Mischance
,
To
his
Cabin's
now
confin'd
By
Mopsus
,
who
the
Strain
did
bind
:
Damon
through
the
Woods
do's
stray
,
Where
his
Kids
have
lost
their
way
:
Young
Narcissus
iv'ry
Brow
Rac'd
by
a
malicious
Bough
,
Keeps
the
girilish
Boy
from
sight
.
Till
Time
shall
do
his
Beauty
right
.
Dorinda
.
Where's
Alexis
?
Silvia
.
—
He
,
alas
!
Lies
extended
on
the
Grass
;
Tears
his
Garland
,
raves
,
despairs
,
Mirth
and
Harmony
forswears
;
Since
he
was
this
Morning
shown
,
That
Delia
must
not
be
his
Own
.
Dorinda
.
Foolish
Swain
!
such
Love
to
place
.
Silvia
.
On
any
but
Dorinda's
Face
.
Dorinda
.
Hasty
Nymph
!
I
said
not
so
.
Silvia
.
No
—
but
I
thy
Meaning
know
.
Ev'ry
Shepherd
thou
wou'd'st
have
Not
thy
Lover
,
but
thy
Slave
;
To
encrease
thy
captive
Train
,
Never
to
be
lov'd
again
.
But
,
since
all
are
now
away
,
Prithee
,
but
a
Moment
stay
.
Dorinda
.
No
;
the
Strangers
,
from
the
Vale
,
Sure
will
not
this
Meeting
fail
;
Graceful
one
,
the
other
Fair
.
He
too
,
with
the
pensive
Air
,
Told
me
,
ere
he
came
this
way
He
was
wont
to
look
more
Gay
.
Silvia
.
See
!
how
Pride
thy
Heart
inclines
To
think
,
for
Thee
that
Shepherd
pines
;
When
those
Words
,
that
reach'd
thy
Ear
,
Chloe
was
design'd
to
hear
;
Chloe
,
who
did
near
thee
stand
,
And
his
more
speaking
Looks
command
.
Dorinda
.
Now
thy
Envy
makes
me
smile
.
That
indeed
were
worth
his
while
:
Chloe
next
thyself
decay'd
,
And
no
more
a
courted
Maid
.
Silvia
.
Next
myself
!
Young
Nymph
,
forbear
.
Still
the
Swains
allow
me
Fair
,
Tho'
not
what
I
was
that
Day
,
When
Colon
bore
the
Prize
away
;
When
—
Dorinda
.
—
Oh
,
hold
!
that
Tale
will
last
,
Till
all
the
Evening
Sports
are
past
;
Till
no
Streak
of
Light
is
seen
,
Nor
Footstep
prints
the
flow'ry
Green
.
What
thou
wert
,
I
need
not
know
,
What
I
am
,
must
haste
to
show
.
Only
this
I
now
discern
From
the
things
,
thou'd'st
have
me
learn
,
That
Woman-kind's
peculiar
Joys
From
past
,
or
present
Beauties
rise
.