the daies sole Eye doth guild the Seas In his daies iourney to th' Antipodes And all the time the Ietty-Chariotere Hurles her blacke mantle through our Hemisphere Vnder the couert of a sprouting Pine She sits and grieues for faithlesse Celandine Beginning thus Alas and must it be That Loue which thus torments and troubles me In setling it so small aduice hath lent To make me captiue where enfranchisement Cannot be gotten nor where like a slaue The office due to faithfull Prisoners haue Oh cruell Celandine why shouldst thou hate Her who to loue thee was ordain'd by Fate Should I not follow thee and sacrifice My wretched life to thy betraying eies Aye me of all my most vnhappy lot What others would thou maist and yet wilt not Haue I reiected those that me ador'd To be of him whom I adore abhor'd And pass'd by others teares to make election Of one that should so passe-by my affection I haue and see the heau'nly powers intend To punish sinners in what they offend May be he takes delight to see in me The burning rage of hellish Iealousie Tâ—ies if in fury any loue appeares And bathes his ioy within my floud of teares But if he lou'd to soile my spotlesse soule And me amongst deceiued Maids enroule To publish to the world my open shame Then heart take freedome hence accursed flame And as Queene regent in my heart shall moue Disdaine that only ouer-ruleth Loue By this infranchiz'd sure my thoughts shall be And in the same sort loue as thou lou'st me But what or can I cancell or vnbinde That which my heart hath seal'd loue hath sign'd No no griefe doth deceiue me more each houre For who so truly loues hath not that power I wrong to say so since of all 't is knowne Who yeelds to loue doth leaue to be her owne But what auailes my liuing thus apart Can I forget him or out of my heart Can teares expulse his Image surely no. We well may flie the place but not the woe Loues fire is of a nature which by turnes Consumes in presence and in absence burnes And knowing this aye me vnhappy wight What meanes is left to helpe me in this plight And from that peeuish shooting hood-winckt elfe To repossesse my Loue my heart my selfe Onely this helpe I finde which I elect Since what my life nor can nor will effect My ruine shall and by it I shall finde Death cures when all helps faile the grieued mind And welcome here then Loue a better guest That of all labours art the onely rest Whilst thus I liue all things discomfort giue The life is sure a death wherein I liue Saue life and death doe differ in this one That life hath euer cares and death hath none But if that he disdainfull Swaine should know That for his loue I wrought my ouerthrow Will he not glory in 't and from my death Draw more delights giue new ioyes their breath Admit he doe yet better 't is that I Render my selfe to Death then Misery I cannot liue thus barred from his sight Nor yet endure in presence any wight Should loue him but my selfe O reasons eye How art thou blinded with vilde Iealousie And is it thus Then which shall haue my blood Or certaine ruine or vncertaine good Why do I doubt Are we not still aduiz'd That certaintie in all things best is priz'd Then if a certaine end can helpe my mone Know Death hath certaintie but Life hath none Here is a Mount whose top seemes to despise The farre inferiour Vale that vnder lies Who like a great man raisd aloft by Eate Measures his height by others meane estate Neere to whose foot there glides a siluer-flood Falling from hence I le climbe vnto my good And by it finish Loue and Reasons strife And end my misery as well as life But as a Cowards hartener in warre The stirring Drum keepes lesser noyse from farre So seeme the murmuring waues tell in mine eare That guiltlesse bloud was neuer spilled there Then stay a while the Beasts that haunt those springs Of whom I heare the fearefull bellowings May doe that deed as moued by my cry Whereby my soule as spotlesse Iuory May turn from whence it came and freed from hence Be vnpolluted of that foule offence But why protract I time Death is no stranger And generous spirits neuer feare for danger Death is a thing most naturall to vs And Feare doth onely make it odious As when to seeke her food abroad doth roue The Nuncius of peace the seely Doue Two sharpe-set hawkes doe her on each side hem And she knowes not which way to flie from them Or like a ship that tossed to and fro With wind and tide the wind doth sternly blow And driues her to the Maine the tide comes sore And hurles her backe againe towards the shore And since her balast and her sailes doe lacke One brings her out the other beats her backe Till one of them increasing more his shockes Hurles her to shore and rends her on the Rockes So stood she long twixt Loue and Reason tost Vntill Despaire who where it comes rules most Wonne her to throw her selfe to meet with Death From off the Rocke into the floud beneath The waues that were aboue when as she fell For feare flew backe againe into their Well Doubting ensuing times on them would frowne That they so rare a beauty helpt to drowne Her fall in griefe did make the streame so rore That sullen murmurings fill'd all the shore A Shepheard neere this floud that fed his sheepe Who at this chance left grazing and did weepe Hauing so sad an obiect for his eyes Left Pipe and Flocke and in the water flyes To saue a Iewell which was neuer sent To be possest by one sole Element But such a worke Nature disposde and gaue Where all the Elements concordance haue He tooke her in his armes for pittie cride And brought her to the Riuers further side Yea and he sought by all his Art and paine To bring her likewise to her selfe againe While she that by her fall was senselesse left And almost in the waues had life berest Lay long as if her sweet immortall spirit Was fled some other Palace to inherit But as cleere Phoebus when some foggy cloud His brightnesse from the world a while doth shrowd Doth by degrees begin to shew his light Vnto the view Or as the Queene of night In her increasing hornes doth rounder grow Till full and perfect she appeare in show Such order in this Maid the Shepheard spies When she began to shew the world her eyes Who thinking now that she had past Deaths dreame Occasion'd by her fall into the streame And that Hells Ferriman did then deliuer Her to the other side th' infernall Riuer Said to the Swaine O Charon I am bound More to thy kindnesse then all else that round Come thronging to thy Boat thou hast past ouer The wofulst Maid that ere these shades
did couer But prithee Ferriman direct my Spright Where that blacke Riuer runs that Lethe hight That I of it as other Ghosts may drinke And neuer of the world or Loue more thinke The Swaine perceiuing by her words ill sorted That she was wholly from her selfe transported And fearing lest those often idle fits Might cleane expell her vncollected wits Faire Nymph said he the powers aboue deny So faire a Beauty should so quickly die The Heauens vnto the World haue made a loane And must for you haue interest Three for One Call backe your thoughts ore-cast with dolours night Do you not see the day the heauens the light Doe you not know in Plutoes darksome place The light of heauen did neuer shew his face Do not your pulses beat y' are warme haue breath Your sense is rapt with feare but not with death I am not Charon nor of Plutoes host Nor is there flesh and bloud found in a Ghost But as you see a seely Shepheards swaine Who though my meere reuenues be the traine Of milk-white sheepe yet am I ioyd as much In sauing you O who would not saue such As euer was the wandring youth of Greece That brought from Colchos home the golden Pleece The neuer-too-much-praised faire Marine Hearing those words beleeu'd her eares and eyne And knew how she escaped had the flood By meanes of this young Swaine that neere her stood Whereat for griefe she gan againe to faint Redoubling thus her cryes and sad complaint Alas and is that likewise barr'd from me Which for all persons else lies euer free Will life nor death nor ought abridge my paine But liue still dying dye to liue againe Then most vnhappy I which finde most sure The wound of Loue neglected is past cure Most cruell God of Loue if such there be That still to my desires art contrarie Why should I not in reason this obtaine That as I loue I may be lou'd againe Alas with thee too Nature playes her parts That fram'd so great a discord tweene two harts One flyes and alwayes doth in hate perseuer The other followes and in loue growes euer Why dost thou not extinguish cleane this flame And plac't on him that best deserues the fame Why had not I affected some kinde youth Whose euery word had beene the word of Truth Who might haue had to loue and lou'd to haue So true a Heart as I to Celand gaue For Psyches loueâ— if beautie gaue thee birth Or if thou hast attractiue power on earth Dame Venus sweetest Childe requite this loue Or Fate yeeld meanes my soule may hence remoue Once seeing in a spring her drowned eyes O cruell beautie cause of this she cryes Mother of Loue my ioyes most fatall knife That workst her death by whom thy selfe hast life The youthfull Swaine that heard this louing Saint So oftentimes to poure forth such complaint Within his heart such true affection prais'd And did perceiue kinde loue and pittie rais'd His minde to sighs yea beautie forced this That all her griefe he thought was likewise his And hauing brought her what his lodge affords Sometime he wept with her sometime with words Would seeke to comfort when alas poore elfe He needed then a comforter himselfe Daily whole troopes of griefe vnto him came For her who languish'd of another flame If that she sigh'd he thought him lou'd of her When 't was another saile her wind did stirre But had her sighs and teares beene for this Boy Her sorrow had beene lesse and more her ioy Long time in griefe he hid his loue-made paines And did attend her walkes in woods and plaines Bearing a fuell which her Sun-like eies Enflam'd and made his heart the sacrifice Yet he sad Swaine to shew it did not dare And she lest he should loue nie dy'd for feare She euer-wailing blam'd the powers aboue That night nor day giue any rest to Loue. He prais'd the Heauens in silence oft was mute And thought with teares and sighs to winne his sute Once in the shade when she by sleepe repos'd And her cleere eies twixt her faire lids enclos'd The Shepheard Swaine began to hate and curse That day vnfortunate which was the nurse Of all his sorrowes He had giuen breath And life to her which was his cause of death O Aesops Snake that thirstest for his bloud From whom thy selfe receiu'dst a certaine good Thus oftentimes vnto himselfe alone Would he recount his griefe vtter his mone And after much debating did resolue Rather his Grandame earth should cleane inuolue His pining bodie ere he would make knowne To her what Tares Loue in his breast had sowne Yea he would say when griefe for speech hath cride 'T is better neuer aske than be denide But as the Queene of Riuers fairest Thames That for her buildings other flouds enflames With greatest enuie Or the Nymph of Kent That stateliest Ships to Sea hath euer sent Some baser groome for lucres hellish course Her channell hauing stopt kept backe her sourâ—e Fill'd with disdaine doth swell aboue her mounds And ouerfloweth all the neighb'ring grounds Angry she teares vp all that stops her way And with more violence runnes to the Sea So the kinde Shepheards griefe which long vppent Grew more in power and longer in extent Forth of his heart more violently thrust And all his vow'd intentions quickly burst Marina hearing sighs to him drew neere And did intreat his cause of griefe to heare But had'â—st knowne her beautie was the sting That caused all that instant sorrowing Silence in bands her tongue had stronger kept And sh 'ad not ask'd for what the Shepheard wept The Swaine first of all times this best did thinke To shew his loue whilst on the Riuers brinke They sate alone then thought hee next would moue her With sighs and teares true tokens of a Louer And since she knew what helpe from him she found When in the Riuer she had else beene drown'd He thinketh sure she cannot but grant this To giue reliefe to him by whom she is By this incited said Whom I adore Sole Mistresse of my heart I thee implore Doe not in bondage hold my freedome long And since I life or death hold from your tongue Suffer my heart to loue yea dare to hope To get that good of loues intended scope Grant I may praise that light in you I see And dying to my selfe may liue in thee Faire Nymph surcease this death-alluring languish So rare a beautie was not borne for anguish Why shouldst thou care for him that cares not for thee Yea most vnworthy wight seemes to abhorre thee And if he be as you doe here paine forth him He thinkes you best of beauties are not worth him That all the ioies of Loue will not quite cost For all lou'd freedome which by it is lost Within his heart such selfe-opinion dwels That his conceit in this he thinkes excels Accounting womens beauties sugred baits That neuer catch but fooles with their deceits Who of himselfe
harbours so vaine a thought Truly to loue could neuer yet be brought Then loue that heart where lies no faithlesse â—eed That neuer wore dissimulations weed Who doth account all beauties of the Spring That iocund Summer-daies are vshering As foiles to yours But if this cannot moue Your minde to pittie nor your heart to loue Yet sweetest grant me loue to quench that flame Which burnes you now Expell his worthlesse name Cleane root him out by me and in his place Let him inhabit that will runne a race More true in loue It may be for your rest And when he sees her who did loue him best Possessed by another he will rate The much of good he lost when 't is too late For what is in our powers we little deeme And things possest by others best esteeme If all this gaine you not a Shepherds wife Yet giue not death to him which gaue you life Marine the faire hearing his wooing tale Perceiued well what wall his thoughts did scale And answer'd thus I pray sir Swaine what boot Is it â—o me to plucke vp by the root My former loue and in his place to sow As ill a seed for any thing I know Rather gainst thee I mortall hate retaine That seek'st to plant in me new cares new paine Alas th' hast kept my soule from deaths sweet bands To giue me ouer to a Tyrants hands Who on his racks will torture by his power This weakned harmelesse body euery howre Be you the Iudge and see if reasons lawes Giue recompence of fauour for this cause You from the streames of death brought life on shore Releas'd one paine to giue me ten times more For loues sake let my thoughts in this be free Obiect no more your haplesse sauing mee That Obligation which you thinke should binde Doth still increase more hatred in my minde Yea I doe thinke more thankes to him were due That would bereaue my life than vnto you The Thunder-stroken Swaine lean'd to a tree As void of sense as weeping Niobe Making his teares the instruments to wooe her The Sea wherein his loue should swimme vnto her And could there flow from his two-headed font As great a floud as is the Hellespont Within that deepe he would as willing wander To meet his Hero as did ere Leander Meane while the Nymph with-drew her selfe aside And to a Groue at hand her steps applide With that sad sigh O I had he neuer seene His heart in better case had euer beene Against his heart against the streame he went With this resolue and with a full intent When of that streame he had discouered The fount the well-spring or the bubling head He there would sit and with the Well drop vie That it before his eies would first runne drie But then he thought the god that haunts that Lake The spoiling of his Spring would not well take And therefore leauing soone the Crystall flood Did take his way vnto the neerest Wood Seating himselfe within a darksome Caue Such places heauie Saturnists doe craue Where yet the gladsome day was neuer seene Nor Phoebus piercing beames had euer beene Fit for the Synode house of those fell Legions That walke the Mountaines and Siluanus regions Where Tragedie might haue her full scope giuen From men aspects and from the view of heauen Within the same some erannies did deliuer Into the midst thereof a pretty Riuer The Nymph whereof came by out of the veines Of our first mother hauing late â—ane paines In scouring of her channell all the way From where it first began to leaue the Sea And in her labour thus farre now had gone When coÌ„ming through the Caue she heard that one Spake thus If I doe in my death perseuer Pittie â—ay that effect which Love could neuer By this she can coniecture 't was some Swaine Who ouerladen by a Maids disdaine Had here as fittest chosen out a place Where he might giue a period to the race Of his loath'd life which she for pitties sake Minding to hinder diu'd into her Lake And hastned where the euer-reeming Earth Vnto her Current giues a wished birth And by her new-deliuered Riuers side Vpon a Banke of flow'rs had soone espide Remond young Remond that full well could sing And tune his Pipe at Pans-birth carolling Who for his nimble leaping sweetest layes A Lawrell garland wore on Holy-dayes In â—raming of whose hand Dame Nature swore There neuer was his like nor should be more Whose locks in snaring nets were like the rayes Wherewith the Sunne doth diaper the Seas Which if they had beene cut and hung vpon The snow-white Cliffes of fertile Albion Would haue allured more to be their winner Then all the Diamonds that are hidden in her Him she accosted thus Swaine of the Wreathe Thou art not placed onely here to breathe But Nature in thy framing shewes to mee Thou shouldst to others as she did to thee Doe good and surely I my selfe perswade Thou neuer wert for euill action made In heauens Consistory 't was decreed That choysest fruit should come from choysest seed In baser vessels we doe euer put Basest materials doe neuer shut Those Iewels most in estimation set But in some curious costly Cabinet If I may iudge by th' outward shape alone Within all vertues haue conuention For 't giues most lustre vnto Vertues feature When she appeares cloth'd in a goodly creature Halfe way the hill neere to those aged trees Whose insides are as Hiues for labring Bees As who should say before their roots were dead For good workes sake and almes they harboured Those whom nought else did couer but the Skies A path vntroden but of Beasts there lies Dâ—recting to a Caue in yonder glade Where all this Forrests Citizens for shade At noone-time come and are the first I thinke That running through that Caue my waters drinke Within this Rocke there sits a wofull wight As void of comfort as that Caue of light And as I wot occasion'd by the frownes Oâ— some coy Shepheardesse that haunts these Downes This I doe know whos'euer wrought his care He is a man nye treading to despaire Then hie thee thither since 't is charitie To saue a man leaue here thy flocke with me For whilst thou sau'st him from the Stygian Bay I le keepe thy Lambkins from all beasts of prey The neernesse of the danger in his thought As it doth euer more compassion wrought So that with reuerence to the Nymph he went With winged speed and hast'ned to preuent Th' vntimely seisure of the greedy graue Breathlesse at last he came into the Caue Where by a sigh directed to the man To comfort him he in this sort began Shepheard all haile what meane these plaints this Caue Th' image of death true portrait of the graue Why dost frequent and waile thee vnder ground From whence there neuer yet was pitty found Come forth and shew thy selfe vnto the light Thy griefe to me If there be ought that might Giue
's desired O that breath The cause of life should be the cause of death That who is shipwrackt on loues hidden shelfe Doth liuâ— to others dies vnto her selfe Why might not I attempt by Death as yet To gaine that freedome which I could not get Being hind'red heretofore a time as free A place as fit offers it selfe to me Whose seed of ill is growne to such a height That makes the earth groane to support his weight Who so is lull'd asleepe with Mida's treasures And onely feares by death to lose lifes pleasures Let them feare death but since my fault is such And onely fault that I haue lou'd too much On ioyes of life why should I stand for those Which I neere had I surely cannot lose Admit a while I to these thoughts consented Death can be but deferred not preuented Then raging with delay her teares that fell Vsher'd her way and she into a Well Straight-waies leapt after O! how desperation Attends vpon the minde enthral'd to passion The fall of her did make the God below Starting to wonder whence that noise should grow Whether some ruder Clowne in spight did fling A Lambe vntimely falne into his Spring And if it were he solemnly then swore His Spring should flow some other way no more Should it in wanton manner ere be seene To writhe in knots or giue a gowne of greene Vnto their Meadowes nor be seene to play Nor driue the Rushy-mils that in his way The Shepherds made but rather for their lot Send them red waters that their sheepe should rot And with such Moorish Springs embrace their field That it should nought but Mosse and Rushes yeeld Vpon each hillocke where the merry Boy Sits piping in the shades his Notes of ioy Hee 'd shew his anger by some floud at hand And turne the same into a running sand Vpon the Oake the Plumbe-tree and the Holme The Stock-doue and the Blackbird should not come Whose muting on those trees doe make to grow Rots curing Hyphear and the Misseltâ—â— Nor shall this helpe their sheep whose stomacks failes By tying knots of wooll neere to their tailes But as the place next to the knot doth die So shall it all the body mortifie Thus spake the God but when as in the water The corps came sinking downe he spide the matter And catching softly in his armes the Maid He brought her vp and hauing gently laid Her on his banke did presently command Those waters in her to come forth at hand They straight came gushing out and did contest Which chiefly should obey their Gods behest This done her then pale lips he straight held ope And from his siluer haire let fall a drop Into her mouth of such an excellence That call'd backe life which grieu'd to part from thence Being for troth assur'd that then this one She ne'er possest a fairer mansion Then did the God her body forwards steepe And cast her for a while into a sleepe Sitting still by her did his full view take Of Natures Master-peece Here for her sake My Pipe in silence as of right shall mourne Till from the watring we againe returne THE SECOND SONG THE ARGVMENT Obliuions Spring and Dory's loue With faire Marina's rape first moâ—e Mine Oaten Pipe which after sings The birth of two renowned Springs NOw till the Sunne shall leaue vs to our rest And Cynthia haue her Brothers place possest I shall goe on and first in diffring stripe The floud-Gods speech thus tune on Oaten Pipe Or mortall or a power aboue I â—â—rag'd by Fury or by Loue Or both I know not such a deed Thou would'st effected that I bleed To thinke thereon alas poore elfe What growne a traitour to thy selfe This face this haire this hand so pure Were not ordain'd for nothing sure Nor was it meant so sweet a breath Should be expos'd by such a death But rather in some louers brest Be giuen vp the place that best Befits a louer yeeld his soule Nor should those mortals ere controule The Gods that in their wisdome sage Appointed haue what Pilgrimage Each one should runne and why should men A bridge the iourney set by them But much I wonder any wight If he did turne his outward sight Into his inward dar'd to act Hâ—r death whose body is compact Of all the beauties euer Nature Laid vp in store for earthly creature No sauage beast can be so cruell To rob the earth of such a Iewell Rather the stately Vnicorne Would in his breast enraged scorne That Maids committed to his charge By any beast in Forrest large Should so be wronged Satyres rude Durst not attempt or ere intrude With such a minde the flowry balkes Where harmlesse Virgins haue their walkes Would she be won with me to stay My waters should bring from the Sea The Corrall red as tribute due And roundest pearles of Orient hue Or in the richer veines of ground Should seeke for her the Diamond And whereas now vnto my Spring They nothing else but grauell bring They should within a Mine of Gold â—n piercing manner long time hold And hauing it to dust well wrought By them it hither should be brought With which I le paue and ouer-spread My bottome where her foot shall tread The best of Fishes in my flood Shall giue themselues to be her food The Trout the Dace the Pike the Brâ—am The Eele that loues the troubled streame The Millers thombe the hiding Loach The Perch the euer-nibling Roach The Shoats with whom is Tanie fraught The foolish Gudgâ—on quickly caught And last the little Minnow-fish Whose chiefe delight in grauell is In right she cannot me despise Because so low mine Empire lies For I could tell how Natures store Of Maiesty appeareth more In waters then in all the rest Of Elements It seem'd herbest To giue the waues most strength and power For they doe swallow and deuoure The earth the waters quench and kill The flames of fire and mounting still Vp in the aire are seene to be As challenging a Seignorie Within the heauens and to be one That should haue like dominion They be a seeling and a floore Of clouds caus'd by the vapours store Arising from them vitall spirit By which all things their life inherit From them is stopped kept asunder And what 's the reason else of Thunder Of lightnings flashes all about That with such violence breake out Causing such troubles and such iarres As with it selfe the world had warres And can there any thing appeare More wonderfull then in the aire Congealed waters oft to spie Continuing pendant in the Skie Till falling downe in haile or snow They make those mortall wights below To runne and euer helpe desire From his for Element the fire Which fearing then to come abroad Within doores maketh his aboad Or falling downe oft time in raine Doth giue greene Liueries to the plaine Make Shepheards Lambs fit for the dish And giueth nutriment to fish Which nourisheth all things of worth The earth
loue sweet life sweet death that so doe meet On earth in death in heauen be euer sweet Let all good wishes euer wait vpon you And happinesse as hand-maid tending on you Your loues within one centre meeting haue One houre your deaths your corps possesse one graue Youâ— names still greene thus doth a Swaine implore Till time and memory shall be no more Herewith the couple hand in hand arose And tooke the way which to the sheep-walke goes And whil'st that Doridon their gate look'd on His dogge disclos'd him rushing forth vpon A well fed Deere that trips it o'er the Meade As nimbly as the wench did whilome tread On Ceres dangling eares or Shaft let goe By some faire Nymph that beares Diana's Bowe When turning head he not a foot would sturre Scoâ—ning the barking of a Shepheards curre So should all Swaines as little weigh their spite VVho at their songs doe bawle but dare not bite Remond that by the dogge the Master knew Came backe and angry bade him to pursue Dory quoth he if your ill-tuter'd dogge Haue nought of awe then let him haue a clogge Doe you not know this seely timorous Deere As vsuall to his kinde hunted whilcare The Sunne not ten degrees got in the Signes Since to our Maides here gathering Columbines She weeping came and with her head low laid In Fida's lap did humbly begge for aide VVhereat vnto the hounds they gaue a checke And sauing her might spie about her necke A Coller hanging and as yet is seene These words in gold wrought on a ground of greene Maidens since'tis decreed a Maid shall haue me Keepe me till he shall kill me that must saue me But whence she came or who the words concerne VVe neither know nor can of any learne Vpon a pallat she doth he at night Neere Fida's bed nor will she fâ—om her sight Vpon her walkes she all the day attends And by her side she trips where ere she wends Remond replide the Swaine if I haue wrong'd Fida in ought which vnto her belong'd I sorrow for 't and truelie doe protest As yet I neuer heard speech of this Beast Nor was it with my will or if it were Is it not lawfull we should chase the Deere That breaking our inclosures euery morne Are found at feed vpon our crop of corne Yet had I knowne this Deere I had not wrong'd Fida in ought which vnto her belong'd I thinke no lesse quoth Remond but I pray Whither walkes Doridon this Holy-day Come driue your sheepe to their appointed feeding And make you one at this our merry meeting Full many a Shepherd with his louely Lasse Sit telling tales vpon the clouer grasse There is the merry Shepherd of the hole Theâ—ot Piers Nilkin Duddy Hobbinoll Alexis Siluan Teddy of the Glen Râ—wly and Perigot here by the Fen With many more I cannot reckon all That meeâ— to solemnize this festiuall I grieue not at their mirth said Doridon Yet had there beene of Feasts not any one Appointed or commanded you will say Where there 's Content 't is euer Holy-day Leâ—ue further talke quoth Remond let 's be gone I le helpe you with your sheepe the time drawes on Fida will call the Hinde and come with vs. Thus went they on and Remond did discusse Their cause of meeting till they won with pacing The circuit chosen for the Maidens tracing It was a Roundell seated on a plaine Thaâ— stood as Sentinell vnto the Maine Enuiron'd round with Trees and many an Arbour Wherein melodious birds did nightly harbour And on a bough within the quickning Spring Would be a teaching of their young to sing Whose pleasing Noates the tyred Swaine haue made To steale a nap at noone-tide in the shade Nature her selfe did there in triumph ride And made that place the ground of all her pride Whose various flowres deceiu'd the rasher eye In taking them for curious Tapistrie A siluer Spring forth of a rocke did fall Thaâ— in a drought did serue to water all Vpon the edges of a grassie banke A tufâ— of Trees grew circling in a ranke As if they seem'd their sports to gaze vpon Or stood as guard against the winde and Sunne So faire so fresh so greene so sweet a ground The piercing eyes of heauen yet neuer found Here Doridon all ready met doth see Oh who would not at such a meeting be Where he might doubt who gaue to other grace Whether the place the Maids or Maids the place Here gan the Reede and merry Bag-pipe play Shrill as a Thrush vpon a Morne of May A rurall Musicke for an heauenly traine And euery Shepherdesse danc'd with her Swaine As when some gale of winde doth nimbly take A faire white locke of wooll and with it make Some prettie driuing here it sweepes the plaine There staies here hops there mounts and turns again Yet all so quicke that none so soone can say That now it stops or leapes or turnes away So was their dancing none look'd thereupon But thought their seuerall motions to be one A crooked measure was their first election Because all crooked tends to best perfection And as I weene this often bowing measure Was chiefly framed for the womens pleasure Though like the rib they crooked are and bending Yet to the best of formes they aime their ending Next in an I their measure made a rest Shewing when Loue is plainest it is best Then in a Y which thus doth Loue commend Making of two at first one in the end And lastly closing in a round do enter Placing the lusty Shepherds in the center About the Swaines they dancing seem'd to roule As other Planets round the Heauenly Pole Who by their sweet aspect or chiding frowne Could raise a Shâ—pherd vp or cast him downe Thus were they circled till a Swaine came neere And sent this song vnto each Shepherds eare The Note and voyce so sweet that for such mirth The Gods would leaue the heauens dwell on earth HAppy are you so enclosed May the Maids be still disposed In their gestures and their dances So to grace you with intwining That Enuy wish in such combining Fortunes smile with happy chances Here it seemes as if the Graces Measur'd out the Plaine in traces In a Shepherdesse disguising Are the Spheares so nimbly turning Wandring Lamps in heauen burning To the eye so much intising Yes Heauen meanes to take these thither And adde one ioy to see both dance together Gentle Nymphes be not refusing Loues neglect is times abusing They and beauty are but lent you Take the one and keepe the other Loue keepes fresh what age doth smother Beauty gone you will repent you 'T will be said when yee haue proued Neuer Swaines more truly loued O then flye all nice behauiour Pitty faine would as her dutie Be attending stâ—ll on beautie Let her not be out of fauour Disdaine is now so much rewarded That Pitty weepes since she is vnregarded The measure and the Song here being ended Each Swain
light as he of beautie Lucina at his birth for Mid-wife stucke And Citherea nurc'd and gaue him sucke Who to that end once Doue-drawne from the Sea Her full Paps dropt whence came the Milkie-way And as when Plato did i' th' Cradle thriue Bees to his lips brought honey from their Hiue So to this Boy they came I know not whether They brought or from his lips did honey gather The Wood-Nymphs oftentimes would bâ—â—iâ—d be And plucke for him the blushing Strawberie Making of them a Bracelet on a Bent Which for a fauour to this Swaine they sent Sitting in shades the Sunne would oft by skips Steale through the boughes and seize vpon his lips The chiefest cause the Sunne did condescend To Phaetonâ— request was to this end That whilst the other did his Horses reyne He might slide from his Spheare court this Swaine Whose sparkling eyes vi'd lustre with the Starres The truest Center of all Circulars In briefâ— if any man in skill were able To finish vp Apelles halfe done Table This Boy the man left out were fittest sure To be the patterne of that portraiture Piping he sate as merry as his looke And by him lay his Bottle and his Hooke His buskins edg'd with siluer were of silke Which held a legge more white then mornings milk Those Buskins he had got and brought away For dancing best vpon the Reuell day His Oaten Reede did yeeld forâ—h such sweet Notes Ioyned in consort with the Birds shrill throtes That equaliz'd the Harmony of Spheares A Musicke that would rauish choisest eares Long look'd they on who would not long looke on That such an obiect had to looke vpon Till at the last the Nymph did Marine send To aske the neerest way whereby to wend To those faire walkes where sprung Marina's ill Whilst she would stay 〈◊〉 Marine obey'd her will And hastned towards him who would not doe so That such a pretty iourney had to goe Sweetly she came and with a modest blush Gaue him the day and then accosted thus Fairest of men that whilst thy flocke doth feed Sitt'st sweetly piping on thine Oaten Reed Vpon this Little berry some ycleep A Hillocke void of care as are thy sheepe Deuoid of spots and sure on all this greene A fairer flocke as yet was neuer seene Doe me this fauour men should fauour Maids That whatsoeuer path directly leads And void of danger thou to me doe show That by it to the Marish I might goe Mariage quoth he mistaking what she said Natures perfection thou most fairest Maid If any fairer then the fairest may be Come sit thee downe by me know louely Ladie Loue is the readiest way if tane aright You may attaine thereto full long ere night The Maiden thinking he of Marish spoke And not of Mariage straight-way did inuoke And praid the Shepheards God might alwaies keepe Him from all danger and from Wolues his sheepe Wishing withall that in the prime of Spring Each sheepe he had two Lambs might yeerely bring But yet quoth she arede good gentle Swaine If in the Dale below or on yond Plaine Or is the Village situate in a Groue Through which my way lies and ycleeped loue Nor on yoâ—d Plaine nor in this neighbouring wood Nor in the Dale where glides the siluer flood But like a Beacon on a hill so hie That euery one may see 't which passeth by Is Loue yplac'd ther 's nothing can it hide Although of you as yet 't is vnespide But on which hill quoth she pray tell me true Why here quoth he it sits and talkes to you And are you Loue quoth she fond Swaine adue You guide me wrong my way lies not by you Though not your way yet you may lye by me Nymph with a Shepherd thou as merrily Maist loue and liue as with the greatest Lord. Greatnesse doth neuer most content afford I loue thee onely not affect worlds pelfe She is not lou'd that 's lou'd not for her selfe How many Shepherds daughters who in dutie To griping fathers haue inthral'd their beautie To wait vpon the Gout to walke when pleases Old Ianuary halt O that diseases Should linke with youth She that hath such a mate Is like two twins borne both incorporate Th' one liuing th' other dead the liuing twin Must needs be slaine through noysomnesse of him He carrieth with him such are their estates Who meerely marry wealth and not their mates As ebbing waters freely slide away To pay their tribute to the raging Sea When meeting with the floud they iustle stout Whether the one shall in or th' other out Till the strong floud new power of waues doth bring And driues the Riuer backe into his Spring So Marine's words offring to take their course By Loue then entring were kept backe and force To it his sweet face eyes and tongue assign'd And threw them backe againe into her minde How hard it is to leaue and not to do That which by nature we are prone vnto We hardly can alas why not discusse When Nature hath decreed it must be thus It is a Maxime held of all knowne plaine Thrust Nature off with forkes shee 'll turne againe Blithe Doridon so men this Shepherd hight Seeing his Goddesse in a silent plight Loue often makes the speeches organs mute Began againe thus to renue his sute If by my words your silence hath beene such Faith I am sorry I haue spoke so much Barre I those lips fit to be th'vttrers when The heauens would parly with the chiefe of men Fit to direct a tongue all hearts conuinces When best of Scribes writes to the best of Princes Were mine like yours of choisest words compleatest I de shew how grief 's a thing weighs down the greatest taint it The best of formes who knows not grief doth The skilfull'st PeÌ„cil neuer yet could paint it And reason good since no man yet could finde What figure represents a grieued minde Me thinkes a troubled thought is thus exprest To be a Chaos rude and indigest Where all doe rule and yet none beares chiefe sway Checkt onely by a power that 's more then they This doeâ— speake since to this euery louer That thus doth loue is thus still giuen ouer If that you say you will not cannot loue Oh Heauens for what cause then do you here moue Are you not fram'd of that expertest mold For whom all in this Round concordance hold Or are you framed of some other fashion And haue a forme and heart but yet a passion It cannot be for then vnto what end Did the best worke-man this great worke intend Not that by minds commerce and ioynt estate The worlds continuers still should propagate Yea if that Reason Regent of the Senses Haue but a part amongst your excellences Shee 'll tell you what you call Virginitie Is fitly lik'ned to a barren tree Which when the Gardner on it paines bestowes To graffe an Impe thereon in time it growes To such perfection that it yeerely brings As goodly
leaues vp bound â—nd she directed how to cure the wound â—ith thanks made home-wards longing still to see â—h'effect of this good Hermits Surgerie â—here carefully her sonne laid on a bed Enriched with the bloud he on it shed â—e washes dresses bindes his wound yet sore â—hat grieu'd it could weepe bloud for him no more Now had the glorious Sunneâ—ane â—ane vp his Iune And all the lamps of heau'n inlightned bin â—ithin the gloomy shades of some thicke Spring â—â—d Philomel gan on the Haw-thorne sing Whâ—lst euery beast at rest was lowly laid â—he outrage done vpon a silly Maid â—â—l things were husht each bird slept on his bough â—â—d night gaue rest to him day tyr'd at plough Each beast each bird and each day-toyling wight Receiu'd the comfort of the silent night Free from the gripes of sorrow euery one Except poore Philomel and Doridon She on a Thorne sings sweet though sighing strain He on a couch more soft more sad complaines Whole in-penâ— thoughts him long time hauing paâ— He sighing wept weeping thus complained Sweet Philomela then he heard her sing I doe not enuy thy sweet carolling But doe admire thee that each euen and morrow Canst carelesly thus sing away thy sorrow Would I could doe so too â— and euer be In all my woes still imitating thee But I may not attaine to that for then Such most vnhappy miserable men Would 〈◊〉 with Heauen and imitate the Sunnâ— Whose golden beames in exhalation Though drawn from Fens or other grounds impâ— Turne all to fructifying nouriture When we draw nothing by our Sun like eyes That euer turnes to mirth but miseries Would I had neuer seene except that â—he Who made me wish so loue to looke on me Had Colin Clout yet 〈◊〉 but he is gone That best on earth could tune a louers mone Whose sadder Tones inforc'd the Rocks to weepe And laid the greatest griefes in quiet sleepe Who when he sung as I would doe to mine His truest loues to his faire Rosalâ—ne â—ntiâ—'d each Shepherds eare to heare him play â—nd rapt with wonder thus admiring say Thrice happy plaines if plaines thrice happy may be Where such a Shepherd pipes to such a Lady Who made the Lasses long to sit downe neere him And woo'd the Riuers froÌ„ their Springs to heare him Heauen rest thy Soule if so a Swaine may pray And as thy workes liue here liue there for aye Meane while vnhappy I shall still complaine Loues cruell wounding of a seely Swaine Two nights thus past the Lilly-handed Morne Saw Phoebus stealing dewe from Ceres Corne. The mounting Larke daies herauld got on wing Bidding each bird chuse out his bough and sing The lofty Treble sung the little Wren Robin the Meane that best of all loues men The Nightingale the Tenor and the Thrush The Counter-tenor sweetly in a bush And that the Musicke might be full in parts Birds from the groues flew with right willing hearts But as it seem'd they thought as doe the Swaines Which tune their Pipes on sack'd Hibernia's plaines There should some droaning part be therefore will'd Some bird to flie into a neighb'ring field In Embassie vnto the King of Bees To aid his partners on the flowres and trees Who condiscending gladly flew along To beare the Base to his well-tuned song Thâ— Crow was willing they should be beholding For his deepe voyce but being hoarse with skolding He thus lends aide vpon an Oake doth climbe And nodding with his head so keepeth time O true delight enharboring the brests Of those sweet creatures with the plumy crests Had Nature vnto man such simplesse giuen He would like Birds befarre more neere to heauen But Doridon well knew who knowes no lesse Mans compounds haue o'er thrown his simplenesse Noone-tide the Morne had wood and she gan yeeld When Doridon made ready for the field Goes sadly forth a wofull Shepherds Lad Drowned in teares his minde with griefe yclad To ope his fold and let his Lamkins out Full iolly flocke they seem'd a well fleec'd rout Which gently walk'd before he sadly pacing Both guides and followes them towards their grazing When from a Groue the Wood-Nymphs held full deare Two heauenly voyces did intreat his eare And did compell his longing eyes to see What happy wight enioy'd such harmonie Which ioyned with fiue more and so made seauen Would parallel in mirth the Spheares of heauen To haue a sight at first he would not presse For feare to interrupt such happinesse But kept aloofe the thicke growne shrubs among Yet so as he might heare this wooing Song F. FIe Shepherds Swaine why sitst thou all alone Whil'st other Lads are sporting on the leyes R. Ioy may haue company but Griefe hath none Where pleasure neuer came sports cannot please F. Yet may you please to grace our this daies sport Though not an actor yet a looker on R. A looker on indeede so Swaines of sort Cast low take ioy to looke whence they are thrown F. Seeke ioy and finde it R. Griefe doth not minde it BOTH Then both agree in one Sorrow doth hate To haue a mate True griefe is still alone F. Sad Swaine areade if that a Maid may aske What cause so great effects of griefe hath wrought R. Alas Loue is not hid it weares no maske To view 't is by the face conceiu'd and brought F. The cause I grant the causer is not learned Your speech I doe entreat about this taske R. If that my heart were seene 't would be discerned And Fida's name found grauen on the caske F. Hath Loue young Remond moued R. 'T is Fida that is loued BOTH Although 't is said that no men Will with their hearts Or goods chiefe parts Trust either Seas or Women F. How may a Maiden be assur'd of loue Since falshood late in euerie Swaine excelleth R. When protestations faile time may approue Where true affection liues where falshood dwelleth F. The truest cause elects a Iudge as true Fie how my sighing my much louing telleth R. Your loue is fixt in one whose heart to you Shall be as constancy which ne'er rebelleth F. None other shall haue grace R. None else in my heart place BOTH Goe Shepherds Swaines and wiue all For Loue and Kings Are two like things Admitting no Corriuall As when some Malefactor iudg'd to die For his offence his Execution nye Casteâ—h his sight on states vnlike to his And weighs his ill by others happinesse So Doridon thought euery stare to be Further from him more neere felicitie O blessed sight where such concordance meets Where truth with truth and loue with liking greets Had quoth the Swain the Fates giuen me some measure Of true delights inestimable treasure I had beene fortunate but now so weake My bankrupt heart will be inforc'd to breake Sweet Loue that drawes on earth a yoake so euen Sweet life that imitates the blisse of heauen Sweet death they needs must haue who so vnite That two distinct make one Hermaphrodite Sweâ—t
thus tride they show to vs As Scâ—ua's Shield thy Selfe Emeritus W. HERBERT To my Browne yet brightest Swaine That woons or haunts or Hill or Plaine Pocta nascitur PIpe on sweet Swaine till Ioy in Blisse sleepe waking Hermes it seemes to thee of all the Swaines Hath lent his Pipe and Art For thou art making With sweet Notes noted Heau'n of Hils and Plaines Nay if as thou beginst thou dost hold on The totall Earth thine Arcadie will bee And Neptunes Monarchy thy Helicon So all in both will make a God of thee To whom they will exhibit Sacrifice Of richest Loue and Praise and enuious Swaines Charm'd with thine Accents shall thy Notes agnizâ— To reach aboue great Pans in all thy Straines Then ply this Veyne for it may well containe The richest Morals vnder poorest Shroud And sith in thee the Past'rall spirit doth raigne On such Wits-Treasures let it sit abrood Till it hath hatch'd such Numbers as may buy The rarest Fame that e're enriched Ayre Or fann'd the Way faire to AETERNITY To which vnsoil'd thy Glory shall repaire Where with the Gods that in faire Starres doe dwell When thou shalt blazing in a Starre abide Thou shalt be stil'd the Shepherds-Starre to tell Them many Mysteries and be their Guide Thus doe I spurre thee on with sharpest praise To vse thy Gifts of Nature and of Skill To double-gilde Apollos Browes and Bayes Yet make great NATVRE Arts true Sou'raigne still So â—ame shall euer say to thy renowne The Shepherds-Star or bright'st in Skie is Browne The true Louer of thine Art and Nature IOHN DAVIES of Heres AD ILLVSTRISSIMVM IVVENEM GVLIELMVM BROWNE Generosum in Operis sui Tomum secundum Carmen gratulatorium SCriâ—ta priùs vidi legi digitoque notaui Carminis istius singula verba meo Ex scriptis sparsim quaerebam carpere dicta Omnia sed par est aut ego nulla notem Filia si fuerit facies haec nactae sororis Laudator prolis solus Author eris Haec nondum visi qui flagrat amore libelli Praeâ—arrat scriptis omnia câ—rta tuis CAROLVâ— CROKE To my noble Friend the Author A Perfect Pen it selfe will euer praise So pipeâ— our Shepherd in his Roundelayes That who could iudge of Musickes sweetest straine Would sweare thy Muse were in a heauenly vaine A Worke of worth showes what the Worke-man is When as the fault that may be found amisse To such at least as haue iudicious eyes Nor in the Worke nor yet the Worke-man lyes Well worthy thou to weare the Lawrell wreath When froÌ„ thy brest these blessed thoughts do breath That in thy gracious Lines such grace doe giue It makes thee euerlastingly to liue Thy words well coucht thy sweet inuention show A perfect Poet that could place them so VNTON CROKE è Societate Inter. Templi To the Author THat priuiledge which others claime To flatter with their Friends With thee Friend shall not be mine ayme My Verse so much pretends The generall Vmpire of best wit In this will speake thy fame The Muses Minioâ—s as they sit Will still confirme the â—ame Let me sing him that merits best Let others scrape for fashion Their bâ—zâ—ing prate thy worth will iest And sleight such commendation ANTH. VINCENT To his worthy Friend Mr. W. BROWNE on his BOOKE THat Poets are not bred so but so borne Thy Muse it proues for in her ages morne She hath stroke enuy dumbe and charm'd the loue Of eu'ry Muse whose birth the Skies approue Goe on I know thou art too good to feare And may thy earely straines affect the eare Of that rare Lord who iudge and guerdon can The richer gifts which doe aduantage man â— IOHN MORGAN è Societate Inter. Templi To his Friend the Authour SOmetimes deare friend I make thy Booke my meat And then I iudge 't is Hony that I eat Sometimes my drinke it is and then I thinke It is Apollo's Nectar and no drinke And being hurt in minde I keepe in store Thy Booke a precious Balsame for the sore 'T is Hony Nectar Balsame most diuine Or one word for them all my Friend 't is thine THO. HEYGATE è Societate Inter. Templi To his Friend the Author IF antique Swaines wanne such immortall praise Though they alone with their melodious Layes Did onely charme the Woods and flowry Lawnes Satyres and Floods and Stones and hairy Fawnes How much braue Youth to thy due worth belongs That charm'st not theÌ„ but men with thy sweet Songs AVGVSTVS CAESAR è Societate Inter. Templi To the Authour T Is knowne I scorne to flatter or commend What merits not applause though in my Friend Which by my censure should now more appeare Were this not full as good as thou art deare But since thou couldst not erring make it so That I might my impartiall humour show By finding fault Nor one of thâ—se friends tell How to shew loue so ill that I as well Might paint out mine I feele an enuious touch And tell thee Swaine that at thy fame I grutch Wishing the Art that makes this Poeme shine And this thy Worke wert not thou wronged mine For when Detraction shal forgotten be This will continue to eternize thee And if hereafter any busie wit Should wronging thy conceit miscensure it Though seeming learn'd or wise here he shall see T is prais'd by wiser and more learn'd then hee G. WITHER To Mr. BROWNE WEre there a thought so strange as to deny That happy Bayes doe some mens Births adorne Thy worke alone might serue to iustifie That Poets are not made so but so borne How could thy plumes thus soone haue soar'd thus Hadst thou not Lawrell in thy Cradle worne Thy Birth o'er-tooke thy Youth And it doth make hie Thy youth herein thine elders ouer-take W. B. To my truly-belou'd Friend M. Browne on his Pastorals SOme men of Bookes or Friends not speaking right May hurt them more with praise then Foes with spight But I haue seene thy Worke and I know thee And if thou list thy selfe what thou canst bee For though but early in these paths thou tread I finde thee write most worthy to be read It must be thine owne iudgement yet that sends This thy worke forth that iudgement mine commends And where the most reade bookes on Authors fames Or like our Money-brokers take vp names On credit and are couzâ—n'd see that thou By offring not more sureties then enow Hold thine owne worth vnbroke which is so good Vpon th' Exchange of Letters as I wou'd More of our Writers would like thee not swell With the how much they set forth but th' how well BEN. IONSON BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS THE SECOND BOOKE THE FIRST SONG THE ARGVMENT Marina's freedome now I sing And of her new endangering Of Famines Caue and then th' abuse Tow'rds buried Colyn and his Muse. AS when a Mariner accounted lost Vpon the watry Desert long time tost In Summers parching hear in Winters cold In tempests great in
fell downe deadly wan And ends her sweet life with the name of Pan. A youthfull Shepherd of the neighbour Wâ—ld Missing that morne a sheepe out of his Fold Carefully seeking round to finde his stray Came on the instant where this Damsell lay Anger and pitty in his manly brest Vrge yet restraine his teares Sweet Maid possest Quoth he with lasting sleepe accept from me His end who ended thy hard destinie With that his strong Dog of no dastard kinde Swift as the Foales conceiued by the winde He sets vpon the Wolfe that now with speed Flies to the neighbour-wood and lest a deed So full of ruth should vnreuenged be The Shepherd followes too so earnestly Chearing his Dog that he ne're turn'd againe Till the curst Wolfe lay strangled on the plaine The ruin'd temple of her purer soule The Shepherd buries All the Nymphs condole So great a losse while on a Cypresse graffe Neere to her graue they hung this Epitaph LEast loathed age might spoile the worke in whom All earth delighted Nature tooke it home Or angry all hers else were carelesse deem'd Here did her best to haue the rest esteem'd For â—eare men might not thinke the Fates so crosse But by their rigour in as great a losse If to the graue there euer was assign'd One like this Nymph in body and in minde We wish her here in balme not vainly spent To fit this Maiden with a Monument For Brasse and Marble were they seated here Would fret or melt in teares to lye so neere Now Pan may sit and tune his Pipe alone Among the wished shades since she is gone Whose willing care allur'd him more to play Then if to heare him should Apollo stay Yet happy Pan and in thy Loue more blest Whom none but onely death hath dispossest While others loue as well yet liue to be Lesse wrong'd by Fate then by inconstancie The sable mantle of the silent night Shut from the world the euer-ioy some light Care fled away and so fresh slumbers please To leaue the Court for lowly Cottages Wilde beasts forsooke their dens on wooddy hils And sleightfull Otters left the purling Rils Rookes to their Nests in high woods now were flung And with their spread wings shield their naked yong When theeues from thickets to the crosse-wayes stir And terror frights the loanely passenger When nought was heard but now then the howle Of some vilde Curre or whooping of the Owle Pan that the day before was farre away At shepherds sports return'd and as he lay Within the bowre wherein he most delighted Was by a gastly vision thus affrighted Heart-thrilling grones first heard he round his bowre And then the Schrich-owle with her vtmost powre Labour'd her loathed note the forrests bending With winds as Hecate had beene ascending Her â—at his curled hayres on end doe rise And chilly drops trill o're his staring eyes Faiâ—e would he call but knew not who nor why Yet getting heart at last would vp and â—ry If any diuellish Hag were come abroad With some kinde Mothers late deliuer'd load A ruthlesse bloudy sacrifice to make To those infernall Powres that by the Lake Of mighty Sâ—â—x and blacke Cocytus dwell Aiding each Witches Charme and misticke Spell But as he rais'd himselfe within his best A sudden light about his lodging spread And there withall his Loue all ashie pale As â—ueâ—ing mist from vp a watry Vale Apâ—ear'd and weakly neere his bed she prest A rauell'd wound distain'd her purer brest Brests softer farre then tufts of vnwrought silke Whence had she liu'd to giue an infant milke The vertue of that liquor without ods Had made her babe immorrall as the Gods Pan would haue spoke but him she thus preuents Wonder not that the troubled Elements Speake my approach I draw no longer breath But am inforced to the shades of death My exequies are done and yet before I take my turne to be transported o're The neather floods among the shades of Dis To end my iourney in the fields of blisse I come to tell thee that no humane hand Made me to seeke wastage on the Stygian strand It was an hungry Wolâ—e that did imâ—rue Himselfe in my last bloud And now I sue In hate to all that kinds and shepherds good To be reuenged on that cursed brood Pan vow'd and would haue â—lipâ— her but she fled And as she came so quickly vanished Looke as a well-growne stately headed Bâ—ckâ— But lately by the Wood-mans arrow struckâ— Runs gadding o're the Lawnes or nimbly straies Among the combâ—ous Brakes a thousand wayes Now through the high-wood sâ—â—wres then by the brooks On euery hill side and each vale he lookes If'mongst their store of simpleâ— may be found An hear be to draw and heale his smarring wound But when he long hath sought and all in vaine Steales to the Couert closely backe againe Where round ingirt with Ferne more highly sprung Striues to appease the raging with his tongue And from the speckled Heard absents him till He be recouer'd somewhat of his ill So wounded Pan turnes in his restlesse bed But finding thence all ease abandoned He rose and through the wood distracted runs Yet carries with him what in vaine he shunt Now he exclaim'd on 〈◊〉 and wisht he ne're Had mortall lou'd or that he mortall were And sitting lastly on an Oakeâ— bare trunke Where â—â—â—ne in Winter stood long time vnsunke His plaints he gâ—n renâ—w but then the light That through the boughes flew from the Queene of night As giuing him occasion to repine Beâ—â—raid an Elme imbraced by a Vine Clipping so strictly that they seem'd to be One in their growth one shade one fruit one tree Her boughes his armes his leaues so mixt with hers That with no winde he mou'd but streight she stiâ—s As showing all should be whom loue combinde In notion one and onely two in kinde This more afflicts him while he thinketh most Not on his losse but on the substance lost O haplesse Pan had there but beene one by To tell thee though as poore a Swaine as I Though whether casuall meanes or death doe moue We part not without griefe things held with loue Yet in their losse some comfort may be got If we doe minde the time we had them not This might haue lessen'd somewhat of thy paine Oâ— made thee loue as thou mightst loose againe If thou the best of women didst forgoe Weigh if thou foundst her or did'st make her so If she were found so know there 's more then one If made the Worke-man liues though she be gone Should from mine eyes the light be 〈◊〉 away Yet night her pleasures hath as well as day And my desires to heauen yeeld lesse offence Since blindnesse is a part of Innocence So though thy Loue sleepe in eternall night Yet there 's in loâ—nnesse somewhat may delight Instead of dalliance partnership in woes It wants the care to keepe and feare to losâ— For iealousies and fortunes baser pelfe He
his tragedie You may walke thither and behold his fall While I come neere enough yet not at all Nor shall it need I to my sorrow knit The griefe of knowing with beholding it The Goddesse went but ere she came did shrowd Her selfe from euery eye within a cloud Where she beheld the Shepherd on his way Much like a Bridegroome on his marriage-day Increasing not his miserie with feare Others for him but he shed not a teare His knitting sinewes did not tremble ought Nor to vnusuall palpitation brought Was or his heart or lyuer nor his eye Nor tongue nor colour shew'd a dread to dye His resolution keeping with his spirit â—oth worthy him that did them both inherit Held in subiection euery thought of feare Scorning so base an executioner Some time he spent in speech and then began Submissely prayer to the name of Pan When sodainly this cry came from the Plaines From guiltlesse blood be free ye Brittish Swaines Mine be those bonds and mine the death appointed Let me be head-long thrown these limbs disioynted Or if you needs must hurle him from that brim Except I dye there dyes but part of him Doe then right Iustice and performe your oath Which cannot be without the death of both Wonder drew thitherward their drowned eyes And Sorrow Philocels Where he espies What he did onely feare the beautious Maid His wofull Caelia whom ere night arraid Last time the world in suit of mournfull blacke More darke then vse as to bemone their wracke He at his cottage left in sleepes soft armes By powre of simples and the force of charmes Which time had now dissolu'd and made her know For what intent her Loue had left her so She staid not to awake her mate in sleepe Nor to bemone her Fate She scorn'd to weepe Or haue the passion that within her lyes So distant from her heart as in her eyes But rending of her haire her throbbing brest Beating with ruthlesse strokes she onwards prest As an inraged furious Lionesse Through vncouth â—â—eâ—dings of the wildernesse In hot pursuit of her late missed brood The name of Philocel speakes euery wood And she begins it still and still her pace Her face-deckt anger anger decke her face So ran distracted Heâ—uâ—a along The streets of Troy So did the people throng With helplesse hands and heauy hearts to see Their wofull ruine in her progenie As harmlesse flocks of sheepe that neerely fed Vpon the open plaines wide scattered Ran all afront and gaz'd with earnest eye Not without teares while thus she passed by Springs that long time before had held no drop Now welled forth and ouer-went the top Birds left to pay the Spring their wonted vowes And all forlome sate drooping on the boughes Sheep Springs and Birds nay trees vnwonted grones Bewail'd her chance and forc'd it from the stones Thus came she to the place where aged men Maidens and wiues and youth and childeren That had but newly learnt their Mothers name Had almost spent their teares before she came And those her earnest and related words Threw from her brest and vnto them affords These as the meanes to further her pretence Receiue not on your soules by Innocence Wrong'd lasting staines which from a sluce the Sea May still wash o're but neuer wash away Turne all your wraths on me for here behold The hand that tore your sacred Tree of gold These are the feet that led to that intent Mine was th' offence be mine the punishment Long hath he liu'd among you and he knew The danger imminent that would insue His vertuous life speakes for him heare it then And cast not hence the miracle of men What now he doth is through some discontent Mine was the fact be mine the punishment What certaine death could neuer make him doe With Caelia's losse her presence forc'd him to She that could cleere his greatest clouds of woes Some part of woman made him now disclose And shew'd him all in teares And for a while Out of his heart vnable to exile His troubling thoughts in words to be conceiu'd But weighing what the world should be bereau'd He of his sighes and throbs some license wan And to the sad spectators thus began Hasten ô haste the houre 's already gone Doe not deferre the execution Nor make my patience suffer ought of wrong 'T is nought to dye but to be dying long Some fit of Frenzie hath possest the Maid She could not doe it though she had assaid No bough growes in her reach nor hath the tree A spray so weake to yeeld to such as she To win her loue I broke it but vnknowne And vndesir'd of her Then let her owne No touch of preiudice without consent Mine was the fact be mine the punishment O! who did euer such contention see Where death stood for the prize of victory Where loue and strife were firme and truly knowne And where the victor must be ouerthrowne Where both pursude and both held equall strife That life should further death death further life Amazement strucke the multitude And now They knew not which way to performe their vow If onely one should be depriu'd of breath They were not certaine of th' offenders death If both of them should dye for that offence They certainly should murder Innocence If none did suffer for it then there ran Vpon their heads the wrath and curse of Pan. This much perplex'd and made them to defer The deadly hand of th' Executioner Till they had sent an Officer to know The Iudges wilâ— and those with Fates doe goe Who backe return'd and thus with teares began The Substitutes on earth of mighty Pan Haue thus decreed although the one be free To cleaâ—â— themselues from all impunitie If who the offender is no meanes procure Th' offence is certaine be their death as sure This is their doome which may all plagues preuent To haue the guilâ—y kill the innocent Looke as two little Lads their parents treasure Vnder a Tutor strictly kept from pleasure While they their new-giuen lesson closely scan Heare of a message by their fathers man That one of them but which he hath forgot Must come along and walke to some faire plot Both haue a hope their carefull Tutor loth To hinder either or to license both Sends backe the Messenger that he may know His Masters pleasure which of them must goe While both his Schollers stand alike in feare Both of their freedome and abiding there The Seruant comes and sayes that for that day Their Father wils to haue them both away Such was the feare these louing soules were in That time the messenger had absent bin But farre more was their ioy twixt one another In hearing neither should out-liue the other Now both intwinde because no conquest won Yet either ruinde Philocel begun To arme his Loue for death a roabe vnfit Till Hymenâ—s saffron'd weed had vsher'd it My fairest Caelia come let thou and I That long haue learn'd to loue
now learne to dye It is a lesson hard if we discerne it Yet none is borne so soone as bound to learne it Vnpartiall Fate layes ope the Booke to vs And let vs con it still imbracing thus We may it perfect haue and goe before Those that haue longer time to read it oâ—re And we had need begin and not delay Forâ—tis our turne to read it first to day Helpe when I misse and when thou art in doubt I le be thy prompter and will helpe thee out But see how much I erre vaine Metaphor And elocution Destinies abhorre Could death be staid with words or won with teares Or mou'd with beauty oâ— with vnripe yeeres Sure thou could'st doe 't this Rose this Sun-like eye Should not so soone be quell'd so quickly dye But we must dye my Loue not thou alone Nor onely I but both and yet but one Nor let vs grieue for we are marryed thus And haue by death what life denied vs. It is a comfort from him more then due Death seuers many but he couples few Life is a Flood that keepes vs from our blisse The Ferriman to waft vs thither is Death and none else the sooner we get o're Should we not thanke the Ferriman the more Oâ—hers intreat him for a passage hence And groane beneath their griefes and impotence Yet mercilesse he lâ—ts those longer stay And sooner takes the happy man away Some little happinesse haue thou and I Since we shall dye before we wish to dye Should we here longer liue and haue our dayes As full in number as the most of these And in them meet all pleasures may betide We gladly might haue lin'd and patient dyde When now our fewer yeeres made long by cares That without age can snow downe siluer haires Make all affirme which doe our griefes discry We patiently did liue and gladly dye The difference my Loue that doth appeare Betwixt our Fates and theirs that see vs here Is onely this the high-all-knowing powre Conceales from them but tels vs our last houre For which to Heauen we far-farre more are bound Since in the houre of death we may be found By its prescience ready for the hand That shall conduct vs to the Holy-land When those from whom that houre conceal'd is may Euen in their height of Sinne be tane away Besides to vs Iustice a friend is knowne Which neither lets vs dye nor liue alone That we are forc'd to it cannot be held Who feares not Death denies to be compell'd O that thou wert no Actor in this Play My sweetest Caelia or diuorc'd away From me in this ô Nature I confesse I cannot looke vpon her heauinesse Without betraying that infirmitie Which at my birth thy hand bestow'd on me Would I had dide when I receiu'd my birth Or knowne the graue before I knew the earth Heauens I but one life did receiue from you And must so short a loane be paid with two Cannot I dye but like that brutish stem Which haue their best belou'd to dye with them O let her liue some blest powre heare my cry Let Caelia liue and I contented dye My Philocel quoth she neglect these throes Aske not for me nor adde not to my woes Can there be any life when thou art gone Nay can there be but desolation Art thou so cruell as to wish my stay To wait a passage at an vnknowne day Or haue me dwell within this Vale of woe Excluded from those ioyes which thou shalt know Enuie not me that blisse I will assay it My loue deserues it and thou canst not stay it Iustice then take thy doome for we intend Except both liue no life one loue one end Thus with embraces and exhorting other With teare-dew'd kisses that had powre to smother Their foft and ruddy lips close ioyn'd with either That in their deaths their soules might meet together With prayers as hopefull as sincerely good Expecting death they on the Cliffes edge stood And lastly were by one oft forcing breath Throwne from the Rocke into the armes of death Faire Thetis whose command the waues obey Loathing the losse of so much worth as they Was gone before their fall and by her powre The Billowes mercilesse vs'd to deuoure And not to saue she made to swell vp high Euen at the instant when the tragedy Of those kinde soules should end so to receiue them And keepe what crueltie would faine bereaue them Her hest was soone perform'd and now they lay Imbracing on the surface of the Sea Void of all sense a spectacle so sad That Thetis nor no Nymph which there she had Touch'd with their woes could for a while refraine But from their heauenly eyes did sadly raine Such showres of teares so powrefull since diuine That euer since the Sea doth taste of Bryne With teares thus to make good her first intent She both the Louers to her Chariot hent Recalling Life that had not cleerely tane Full leaue of his or her more curious Phane And with her praise sung by these thankfull paire Steer'd on her Coursers swift as fleeting ayre Towards her Pallace built beneath the Seas Proud of her iourney but more proud of these By that time Night had newly spred her robe Ouer our halfe-part of this massie Globe She won that famous I le which Ioue did please To honour with the holy Druydes And as the Westerne side she stript along Heard and so staid to heare this heauy Song O Heauen what may I hope for in this Caue A Graue But who to me this last of helpes shall retch A Wretch Shall none be by pittying so said a wight Yes Night Small comfort can befall in heauy plight To me poore Maid in whose dâ—stresses be Nor hope nor helpe nor one to pittie me But a cold Graue a Wretch and darksome Night To digge that Graue what fatall thing appeares Thy Teares What Bell shall ring me to that bed of ease Rough Seas And who for Mourners hath my Fate assign'd Each Winde Can any be debarr'd from such I finde When to my last Rites Gods no other send To make my Graue for Knell or mourning friend Then mine own Teares rough Seas gusts of Wind. Teares must my graue dig but who bringeth those Thy Woes What Monument will Heauen my body spare The Ayre And what the Epitaph when I am gone Obliuion Most miserable I and like me none Both dying and in death to whom is lent Nor Spade nor Epitaph nor Monument Excepting Woes Ayre and Obliuion The end of this gaue life vnto a grone As if her life and it had beene but one Yet she as carelesse of reseruing either If possible would leaue them both together It was the faire Marina almost spent With griefe and feare of future famishment For haplesse chance but the last rosie morne The willing Redbrest flying through a Thorne Against a prickle gor'd his tender side And in an instant so poore creature dyde Thetis much mou'd with those sad notes she heard