MIR. But, shepherd, what disease is't that so soon Could spend his force upon her? she was well This morning, when she made poor Hylas sick.
MON. I know not; I am sent unto the well Of Esculapius to fetch some water For her recovery. I must be gone. [_Exit._
MIR. Shepherds, here let us end. I think we are Perfect in all the rest. This night the king Must see't, resolve on that.
MIR. Then let's away, and see what will betide This gentle nymph Nerina.
CHARINUS, NERINA, DORINDA, HYLAS, MIRTILLUS, NUNTIUS.
Hold up thy head, good child: see, he is come. Bring me the water quickly, whilst there is Some life in her. Now chafe her, good Dorinda.
NER. All is in vain, I cannot live; dear father, Farewell. What shepherd's that lies on the ground? Is it not Hylas?
NER. Alas, poor shepherd! 'tis my greatest grief, That I have grieved him; I would beg life For nothing but to make him satisfaction.
MIR. Hylas, what, on the ground! look up and speak: Alas, he's dead!
NER. It cannot be: good father, Let me go to him, and but touch his ear, It may be that my voice may have more virtue.
CHAR. Do what thou wilt, sweetheart: see, my poor child, How charitable she is: being half-dead Herself, she pities others.
MIR. Mark her finesse, How at the brink of death she kisses him, And took this way to mock her simple father: O fine invention! sure, a woman's wit Does never fail her. [_Aside._
NER. Hylas, Hylas, speak, Nerina calls thee! speak to thy Nerina!
MIR. What cannot love do? It revives the dead, He's come to himself again!
HYL. What god is it That has the power to return my soul From the Elysian fields?
MIR. It is no god: A goddess rather, Hylas. 'Tis Nerina, Look where she is!
HYL. Ah! then I do not wonder I cannot die, when my best soul comes to me: Shall we live ever thus?
NER. How fain I would For thy sake, Hylas; but it cannot be: I feel a heavy sleep sit on my head, And my strength fails me; help me, sweet Dorinda, Farewell for ever! O, I die, I die!
HYL. And must I then be call'd to life again, To see my life expire before my face? You Fates, if you will take a ransom for her, Then take my life: but you are sure of that, You'll say, already; for in her one death Two lives are forfeit. Nerina, gentle nymph, The cause why now I live, open these eyes Once more, and I shall flourish like those plants The sun gives life to: else I fall and wither, Leaving behind nought but a worthless stem. Speak to thy Hylas, sweet Nerina, speak.