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    The Faithful Shepherdess: "That soul that can be honest is the only perfect man"
    The Faithful Shepherdess: "That soul that can be honest is the only perfect man"
    The Faithful Shepherdess: "That soul that can be honest is the only perfect man"
    Ebook139 pages1 hour

    The Faithful Shepherdess: "That soul that can be honest is the only perfect man"

    By John Fletcher

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    About this ebook

    John Fletcher was born in December, 1579 in Rye, Sussex. He was baptised on December 20th. As can be imagined details of much of his life and career have not survived and, accordingly, only a very brief indication of his life and works can be given. Young Fletcher appears at the very young age of eleven to have entered Corpus Christi College at Cambridge University in 1591. There are no records that he ever took a degree but there is some small evidence that he was being prepared for a career in the church. However what is clear is that this was soon abandoned as he joined the stream of people who would leave University and decamp to the more bohemian life of commercial theatre in London. The upbringing of the now teenage Fletcher and his seven siblings now passed to his paternal uncle, the poet and minor official Giles Fletcher. Giles, who had the patronage of the Earl of Essex may have been a liability rather than an advantage to the young Fletcher. With Essex involved in the failed rebellion against Elizabeth Giles was also tainted. By 1606 John Fletcher appears to have equipped himself with the talents to become a playwright. Initially this appears to have been for the Children of the Queen's Revels, then performing at the Blackfriars Theatre. Fletcher's early career was marked by one significant failure; The Faithful Shepherdess, his adaptation of Giovanni Battista Guarini's Il Pastor Fido, which was performed by the Blackfriars Children in 1608. By 1609, however, he had found his stride. With his collaborator John Beaumont, he wrote Philaster, which became a hit for the King's Men and began a profitable association between Fletcher and that company. Philaster appears also to have begun a trend for tragicomedy. By the middle of the 1610s, Fletcher's plays had achieved a popularity that rivalled Shakespeare's and cemented the pre-eminence of the King's Men in Jacobean London. After his frequent early collaborator John Beaumont's early death in 1616, Fletcher continued working, both singly and in collaboration, until his own death in 1625. By that time, he had produced, or had been credited with, close to fifty plays.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStage Door
    Release dateDec 10, 2017
    ISBN9781787376113
    The Faithful Shepherdess: "That soul that can be honest is the only perfect man"

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      Book preview

      The Faithful Shepherdess - John Fletcher

      The Faithful Shepherdess by John Fletcher

      John Fletcher was born in December, 1579 in Rye, Sussex.  He was baptised on December 20th.

      As can be imagined details of much of his life and career have not survived and, accordingly, only a very brief indication of his life and works can be given.

      Young Fletcher appears at the very young age of eleven to have entered Corpus Christi College at Cambridge University in 1591.  There are no records that he ever took a degree but there is some small evidence that he was being prepared for a career in the church.

      However what is clear is that this was soon abandoned as he joined the stream of people who would leave University and decamp to the more bohemian life of commercial theatre in London.

      The upbringing of the now teenage Fletcher and his seven siblings now passed to his paternal uncle, the poet and minor official Giles Fletcher. Giles, who had the patronage of the Earl of Essex may have been a liability rather than an advantage to the young Fletcher.  With Essex involved in the failed rebellion against Elizabeth Giles was also tainted.

      By 1606 John Fletcher appears to have equipped himself with the talents to become a playwright. Initially this appears to have been for the Children of the Queen's Revels, then performing at the Blackfriars Theatre.

      Fletcher's early career was marked by one significant failure; The Faithful Shepherdess, his adaptation of Giovanni Battista Guarini's Il Pastor Fido, which was performed by the Blackfriars Children in 1608.

      By 1609, however, he had found his stride. With his collaborator John Beaumont, he wrote Philaster, which became a hit for the King's Men and began a profitable association between Fletcher and that company. Philaster appears also to have begun a trend for tragicomedy.

      By the middle of the 1610s, Fletcher's plays had achieved a popularity that rivalled Shakespeare's and cemented the pre-eminence of the King's Men in Jacobean London. After his frequent early collaborator John Beaumont's early death in 1616, Fletcher continued working, both singly and in collaboration, until his own death in 1625.  By that time, he had produced, or had been credited with, close to fifty plays.

      Index of Contents

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE

      SCENE: Thessaly

      ACTUS PRIMUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      ACTUS SECUNDUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      ACTUS TERTIUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      ACTUS QUARTUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      ACTUS QUINTUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      To My Friend Master John Fletcher Upon his Faithfull Shepherdess

      To the Worthy Author M'r. John Fletcher

      NEW PROLOGUE

      JOHN FLETCHER - A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

      JOHN FLETCHER - A CONCISE BIBLIOGRAPHY

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE

      MEN

      Perigot, a Shepherd in love with Amoret

      Thenot, a Shepherd in love with Clorin

      Daphnis, a Modest Shepherd

      Alexis, a Wanton Shepherd

      God of a river

      Satyr

      Priest

      Old Shepherd

      A Sullen Shepherd

      WOMEN

      Amoret, the Faithful Shepherdess in love with Perigot

      Clorin, a Holy Shepherdess

      Amaryllis, a Shepherdess in love with Perigot

      Cloe, a Wanton Shepherdess

      SCENE: Thessaly

      ACTUS PRIMUS

      SCÆNA PRIMA

      Enter CLORIN a shepherdess, having buried her Love in an Arbour.

      Hail, holy Earth, whose cold Arms do imbrace

      The truest man that ever fed his flocks

      By the fat plains of fruitful Thessaly,

      Thus I salute thy Grave, thus do I pay

      My early vows, and tribute of mine eyes

      To thy still loved ashes; thus I free

      My self from all insuing heats and fires

      Of love: all sports, delights and jolly games

      That Shepherds hold full dear, thus put I off.

      Now no more shall these smooth brows be begirt

      With youthful Coronals, and lead the Dance;

      No more the company of fresh fair Maids

      And wanton Shepherds be to me delightful,

      Nor the shrill pleasing sound of merry pipes

      Under some shady dell, when the cool wind

      Plays on the leaves: all be far away,

      Since thou art far away; by whose dear side

      How often have I sat Crown'd with fresh flowers

      For summers Queen, whil'st every Shepherds Boy

      Puts on his lusty green, with gaudy hook,

      And hanging scrip of finest Cordevan.

      But thou art gone, and these are gone with thee,

      And all are dead but thy dear memorie;

      That shall out-live thee, and shall ever spring

      Whilest there are pipes, or jolly Shepherds sing.

      And here will I in honour of thy love,

      Dwell by thy Grave, forgeting all those joys,

      That former times made precious to mine eyes,

      Only remembring what my youth did gain

      In the dark, hidden vertuous use of Herbs:

      That will I practise, and as freely give

      All my endeavours, as I gain'd them free.

      Of all green wounds I know the remedies

      In Men or Cattel, be they stung with Snakes,

      Or charm'd with powerful words of wicked Art,

      Or be they Love-sick, or through too much heat

      Grown wild or Lunatick, their eyes or ears

      Thickned with misty filme of dulling Rheum,

      These I can Cure, such secret vertue lies

      In Herbs applyed by a Virgins hand:

      My meat shall be what these wild woods afford,

      Berries, and Chesnuts, Plantanes, on whose Cheeks,

      The Sun sits smiling, and the lofty fruit

      Pull'd from the fair head of the staight grown Pine;

      On these I'le feed with free content and rest,

      When night shall blind the world, by thy side blest.

      [Enter a SATYR.

      SATYR

      Through yon same bending plain

      That flings his arms down to the main,

      And through these thick woods have I run,

      Whose bottom never kist 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!      

      [He stands amazed.

      By that Heavenly 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 mortalitie

      Dare with misty eyes behold,

      And live: therefore on this mold

      Lowly do I bend my knee,

      In worship of thy Deitie;

      Deign it Goddess from my hand,

      To receive what e're this land

      From her fertil Womb doth send

      Of her choice Fruits: and but lend

      Belief to that the Satyre tells,

      Fairer by the famous wells,

      To this present day ne're grew,

      Never better nor more true.

      Here be Grapes whose lusty bloud

      Is the learned Poets good,

      Sweeter yet did never crown

      The head of Bacchus, Nuts more brown

      Than the Squirrels Teeth that crack them;

      Deign O fairest fair to take them.

      For these black ey'd Driope

      Hath oftentimes commanded me,

      With my clasped knee to clime;

      See how well the lusty time

      Hath deckt their rising cheeks in red,

      Such as on your lips is spred,

      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 Beeches shade,

      I must go, I must run

      Swifter than the fiery Sun.                        

      CLORIN

      And all my fears go with thee.

      What greatness or

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