THE

FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS.'

This Pastoral is indubitably the sole production of Fletcher. It was condemned by the audience on the first night of performance, and laid aside till Charles I. had it acted before his Court; on which occasion Sir William Davenant wrote a Dialogue-Prologue. The title of the third edition runs, The Faithfvll Shepherdesse. Acted at Somerset House before the King and Qveene on Twelfe night last; 1633. And divers times since with great applause at the Private House in Blacke-Friers, by his Majesties Servants.' This is the last account we have of its performance; and indeed, though the Faithful Sepherdess is excelled by very few pieces, in the closet, we cannot think it well calculated for the theatre. The first edition bears date the same year in which it was first acted.

The Faithful Shepherdess is, of all the poems in our language, one of the greatest honours and the greatest scandals of our nation. It shews to what a height in every species of poetry the British genius has soared; it proves how dull the vulgar eye is to pursue its flight. How must each Briton of taste rejoice to find all the pastoral beauties of Italy and Arcadia transplanted by Fletcher, and flourishing in our own climate! How must he grieve to think that they were at first blasted, and since suffered to wither in oblivion by his Gothic countrymen ! The Faithful Shepherdess was damned at its first appearance, and not even a potent monarch's patronage in the next age, not a much greater monarch's in poetry than king Charles the First in power, Milton's great admiration and close imitation of it in Comus, could recommend it to the publick. The noble copy, 'till within these few years, was, as little known as its original; but since it is now become the fashion to admire the former, some deference will surely be paid to Milton's judgment. I shall, therefore, in my notes on this play, not confine myself to mere verbal emendations, but endeavour to demonstrate Fletcher's beauties from parallel passages out of Milton and other authentick poets. By which, I believe, it will appear, that Milton bor rowed more from Fletcher, than Fletcher from all the ancient classicks. Seward.

ACT I.

2 Coronals.] i. e. Garlands. The word frequently occurs in Spenser, in the same sense. R. Dell] Is used by Spenser in his Shepherd's Calender. March, speaking of a sheep,

It plainly signifies a steep place, or valley, and is much the same as dale. See Bishop Newton's notes on Comus.

4 Cordevan.] Cordwain (from cordovan, leather) Spanish leather.

We find cordevan, or cordiwin, mentioned in the following stanza of Drayton's Fourth Eclogue:

5 Through yon same bending plain.] That Fletcher had frequently in his eye Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, is certain. The beginning and ending of this speech are an imitation of the Fairy's speech, act ii. scene 1.

Both Fletcher and Milton follow Shakespeare in his liberties of frequently varying the Ana

}

He
stands
amax'd.

And thro' these thick woods, have I run,
Whose bottom never kiss'd the sun
Since the lusty spring began,
All to please my master Pan,
Have I trotted without rest
To get him fruit; for at a feast
He entertains, this coming night,
His paramour, the Syrinx bright.
But, behold a fairer sight!
By that heav'nly form of thine,
Brightest fair, thou art divine,
Sprung from great immortal race
Of the gods; for in thy face
Shines more awful majesty,
Than dull weak mortality
Dare with misty eyes behold,
And live! Therefore on this mould,
Lowly do I bend my knee,
In worship of thy deity.
Deign it, goddess, from my hand,
To receive whate'er this land
From her fertile womb doth send
Of her choice fruits; and but lend
Belief to that the Satyr tells:
Fairer by the famous wells,
To this present day ne'er grew,
Never better nor more true.

Here be grapes, whose lusty blood
Is the learned poets' good,

Sweeter yet did never crown

The head of Bacchus; nuts more brown

Than the squirrel whose teeth crack 'em;"
Deign, oh, fairest fair, to take 'em.
For these black-ey'd Driope
Hath often-times commanded me
With my clasped knee to climb:
See how well the lusty time

Hath deck'd their rising cheeks in red,
Such as on your lips is spread.
Here be berries for a queen,
Some be red, some be green;
These are of that luscious meat,

The great god Pan himself doth eat?
All these, and what the woods can yield,
The hanging mountain, or the field,
I freely offer, and ere long

Will bring you more, more sweet and
strong;

Till when humbly leave I take,
Lest the great Pan do awake,?
That sleeping lies in a deep glade,
Under a broad beech's shade:
I must go, I must run
Swifter than the fiery sun.

go

with thee.

[Exit.

Clo. And all my fears
What greatness or what private hidden pow'r
Is there in me to draw submission

From this rude man and beast? Sure I am
mortal:

The daughter of a shepherd; he was mortal,
And she that bore me mortal: Prick my hand
And it will bleed; a fever shakes me, and

creontick measures; yet each stanza, and each couplet, should observe a just measure, and would, I believe, have done so, had the Authors themselves overlooked the press.

Seward.

Mr. Seward changes through into thorough; but there is, we think, as little necessity, as authority, for the alteration.

6

nuts more brown

Than the squirrels teeth that crack 'em.] But the teeth of the squirrel is the only visible part that is not brown. I hope I have restored the original. In these presents, which are per fectly pastoral, the Poet had, undoubtedly, both Virgil and Theocritus in his eye. Seward. We have admitted Mr. Seward's emendation; though the old reading was probably genuine, and proceeded from the inadvertence of the Author.

Lest the great Pan do awake.] Thus Theocritus, Eis. 2.

Οὐ θέμις ὦ ποιμάν, τὸ μεσαμβρινόν, ε θέμις άμμιν
Συρίσδεν· τὸν Πᾶνα δεδοίκαμες· ἦ γὰρ ἀπ ̓ ἄγρας
ที่
Τανίκα κεκμακὺς ἀμπαύεται· ἐντί γε πικρές,

Και οι αεί δριμεία χολὰ ποτὶ 'ρινὶ κάθηται.

That Fletcher had this in his eye is evident, but he has varied from Theocritus's Theology. As he intended to make his shepherds chaste and virtuous, he knew that virtue would ill con. sist with the adoration of such a choleric and lustful God as the Arcadian Pan. But does he not in this transgress the rules of propriety, giving his Arcadians rather Christian than Pagan sentiments? I think not. The Arcadians first worshipped the Creator of all things under the name of Pan, which signifies the Universe, and the image they formed of him emblematically represented Universal Nature, as Macrobius informs us. But the vulgar soon lost the archetype, and imagined his sharp nose, long beard, and goutish legs, to be the symptoms of anger, rusticity, and lust. Fletcher has with great judgment placed his scene among the primitive Arcadians, who had not such gross ideas. In this he deviates from the Italian dramatic pastorals, but is followed by Milton, who introduces Pagan deities in Comus, but makes the superior gods favour and protect chastity and virtue. Seward.

No goblin, wood-god, fairy, elfe, or fiend,

Satyre, or other pow'r, &c.] Milton was so charmed with the noble enthusiam of this passage, that he has no less than three imitations of it. Twice in Comus.

Some say, no evil thing that walks by night,

In fog, or fire, by lake or moorish fen,

Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost

That breaks his magick chains at curfeu time;

No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine,

Hath hurtful pow'r o'er true virginity.

See the whole passage in the first scene of the Two Brothers. So again, the young Lady in thẽ

wood.

a thousand fantasies

Begin to throng into my memory,

Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,

And airy tongues that syllable men's names
'On sands, on shores, and desart wildernesses.'

And again, Paradise Lost, book ix. line 639, in his noble description of the ignis faluus.

9 Or voices calling me, &c.] This is perfectly agreeable to the superstitious notions of the times in which our Author wrote, and much in the manner of Shakespeare. It has been observed, that in writing this part of the speech he had Virgil in view:

Hinc exaudiri voces et verba vocantis
Visa viri, noæ cum terras obscura teneret.

Æn. iv. 460.

R.