If there be

Ever a neighbour-brook or hollow tree,
Receive my body, close me up from lust
That follows at my heels!  Be ever just,
Thou god of shepherds, Pan, for her dear sake
That loves the rivers’ brinks, and still doth shake
In cold remembrance of thy quick pursuit;
Let me be made a reed, and, ever mute,
Nod to the waters’ fall, whilst every blast
Sings through my slender leaves that I was chaste! 

          
                                                                  (V. iii. 79.)

Lastly, we have the satyr’s farewell to Clorin: 

Thou divinest, fairest, brightest,
Thou most powerful maid and whitest,
Thou most virtuous and most blessed,
Eyes of stars, and golden-tressed
Like Apollo; tell me, sweetest,
What new service now is meetest
For the satyr?  Shall I stray
In the middle air, and stay
The sailing rack, or nimbly take
Hold by the moon, and gently make
Suit to the pale queen of night
For a beam to give thee light? 
Shall I dive into the sea
And bring thee coral, making way
Through the rising waves that fall
In snowy fleeces?  Dearest, shall
I catch thee wanton fawns, or flies
Whose woven wings the summer dyes
Of many colours? get thee fruit,
Or steal from heaven old Orpheus’ lute? 
All these I’ll venture for, and more,
To do her service all these woods adore.

* * * * *

So I take my leave and pray
All the comforts of the day,
Such as Phoebus’ heat doth send
On the earth, may still befriend
Thee and this arbour!
Clorin. And to thee,
All thy master’s love be free! (V. v. 238 and 268.)

Such then is Fletcher’s play.  It is in the main original so far as its own individuality is concerned, and apart from the general tradition which it follows.  Its direct debt to Guarini is confined to the title and certain traits in the characters of Cloe and Amarillis.  Further indebtedness has, it is true, been found to Spenser, but some hint of the transformation of Amarillis, a few names and an occasional reminiscence, make up the sum total of specific obligations.  Endowed with a poetic gift which far surpassed the imitative facility of Guarini and approached the consummate art of Tasso himself, Fletcher attempted to rival the Arcadian drama of the Italians.  Not content, as Daniel had been, merely to reproduce upon accepted models, he realized that some fundamental innovation was necessary.  But while he adopted and justified the greater licence and range of effect allowed upon the English stage, thereby altering the form from pseudo-classical to wholly romantic, he failed in any way to touch or vitalize the inner spirit of the kind, trusting merely to lively action and lyrical jewellery to hold the attention of his audience.  He failed, and it was not till some years after his death that the play, having been stamped with the approbation of the court, won a tardy recognition from the general public; and even when, after the restoration, Pepys records a successful revival in 1663, he adds that it was ’much thronged after for the scene’s sake[273].’