any ease vnto thy troubled minde We ioy as much to giue as thou to finde The Loue-sicke Swaine replide Remond thou art The man alone to whom I would impart My woes more willing then to any Swaine That liues and feeds his sheepe vpon the plaine But vaine it is and 't would increase my woes By their relation or to thee or those That cannot remedy Let it suffise No fond distrust of thee makes me precise To shew my griefe Leaue me then and forgo This Caue more sad since I haue made it so Here teares broke forth And Remond gan anew With such intreaties earnest to pursue His former suit that he though hardly wan The Shepherd to disclose and thus began Know briefly Remond then a heauenly face Natures Idea and perfections grace Within my breast hath kindled such a fire That doth consume all things except desire Which daily doth increase though alwaies burning And I want teares but lacke no cause of mourning For he whom Loue vnder his colours drawes May often want th' effect but ne're the cause Quoth th' other haue thy starres maligne been such That their predominations sway so much Ouer the rest that with a milde aspect The Liues and loues of Shepherds doe affect Then doe I thinke there is some greater hand Which thy endeuours still doth countermand Wherfore I wish thee quench the flame thus mou'd And neuer loue except thou be belou'd For such an humour euery woman seiseth She loues not him that plaineth but that pleaseth WheÌ„ much thou louest most disdain coms on thee And wheÌ„ thou thinkst to hold her she flies froÌ„ thee She follow'd flies she fled from followes post And loueth best where she is hated most 'T is euer noted both in Maids and Wiues Their hearts and tongues are neuer Relatiues Hearts full of holes so elder Shepherds saine As apter to receiue then to retaine Whose crafts and wiles did I intend to show This day would not permit me time I know The dayes swift horses would their course haue run And diu'd themselues within the Ocean Ere I should haue performed halfe my taske Striuing their craftie subtilties t' vnmaske And gentle Swaine some counsell take of me Loue not still where thou maist loue who loues thee Draw to the courteous flie thy loues abhorrer And if she be not for thee be not for her If that she still be wauering will away Why shouldst thou striue to hold that will not stay This Maxime Reason neuer can confute Better to liue by losse then die by sute If to some other Loue she is inclinde Time will at length cleane root that from her minde Time will extinct Loues flames his hell-like flashes And like a burning brand consum 't to ashes Yet maist thou still attend but not importune Who seekes oft misseth sleepers light on fortune Yea and on women too Thus doltish sots Haue Fate and fairest women for their lots Fauour and pittie wait on Patience And hatred oft attendeth violence If thou wilt get desire whence Loue hath pawn'd it Beleeue me take thy time but ne'er demand it Women as well as men retaine deâ—ire But can dissemble more then men their fire Be neuer caught with looks nor selfe-wrought rumor Nor by a quaint disguise nor singing humor Those out-side shewes are toies which outwards snare But vertue lodg'd within is onely faire If thou hast seene the beautie of our Nation And find'st her haue no loue haue thou no passion But seeke thou further other places sure May yeeld a face as faire a Loue more pure Leaue ô then leaue fond Swaine this idle course For Loue 's a God no mortall wight can force Thus Remond said and saw the faire Marine Plac'd neere a Spring whose waters Crystalline Did in their murmurings beare a part and plained That one so true so faire should be disdained Whilst in her cries that fild the vale along Still Celand was the burthen of her song The stranger Shepherd left the other Swaine To giue attendance to his fleecy traine Who in departing from him let him know That yonder was his freedomes ouerthrow Who sate bewailing as he late had done That loue by true affection was not wonne This fully knowne Remond came to the Maid And after some few words her teares allaid Began to blame her rigour call'd her cruell To follow hate and flie loues chiefest Iewell Faire doe not blame him that he thus is moued For women sure were made to be beloued If beautie wanting louers long should stay It like an house vndwelt in would decay When in the heart if it haue taken place Time cannot blot nor crooked age deface The Adamant and Beauty we discouer To be alike for Beauty drawes a Louer The Adamant his Iron Doe not blame His louing then but that which caus'd the same Who so is lou'd doth glory so to be The more your Louers more your victorie Know if you stand on faith most womens lothing T is but a word a character of nothing Admit it somewhat if what we call constance Within a heart hath long time residence And in a woman she becomes alone Faire to her selfe but foule to euery one If in a man it once haue taken place He is a foole or dotes or wants a face To win a woman and I thinke it be No vertue but a meere necessitie Heauens powers deny it Swain quoth she haue done Striue not to bring that in derision Which whosoe'er detracts in setting forth Doth truly derogate from his owne worth It is a thing which heauen to all hath lent To be their vertues chiefest ornament Which who so wants is well compar'd to these False tables wrought by Alcibiades Which noted well of all were found t' haue bin Most faire without but most deform'd within Then Shepherd know that I intend to be As true to one as he is false to me To one quoth he why so Maids pleasure take To see a thousand languish for their sake Women desire for Louers of each sort And why not you Th' amorous Swaine for sport The Lad that driues the greatest flocke to field Will Buskins Gloues and other fancies yeeld The gallant Swaine will saue you from the iawes Of rauenous Beares and from the Lions pawes Beleeue what I propound doe many chuse The least Herbe in the field serues for some vse Nothing perswaded nor asswag'd by this Was fairest Marine or her heauinesse But prai'd the Shepherd as heere did hope His silly sheepe should fearelesse haue the scope Of all the shadowes that the trees doe lend From Raynards stealth when Titan doth ascend And runne his mid-way course to leaue her there And to his bleating charge againe repaire He condescended left her by the brooke And to the Swaine and 's sheepe himselfe betooke He gone she with her selfe thus gan to faine Alas poore Marine think'st thou to attaine His loue by sâ—â—ting here or can the fire Be quencht with wood can we allay desire By wanting what
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
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
'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
produceth and brings forth And therefore well considering The nature of it in each thing As when the teeming earth doth grow So hard that none can plow nor â—ow Her breast it doth so mollifie That it not onely comes to be More easie for the share and Oxe But that in Haruest times the shocks Of Ceres hanging eared corne Doth fill the Houell and the Barne To Trees and Plants I comfort giue By me they fructifie and liue For first ascending from beneath Into the Skie with liuely breath I thence am furnish'd and bestow The same on Herbs that are below So that by this each one may see I cause them spring and multiply Who seeth this can doe no lesse Then of his owne accord confesse That notwithstanding all the strength The earth enioyes in breadth and length She is beholding to each streame And hath receiued all from them Her loue to him she then must giue By whom her selfe doth chiefly liue This being spoken by this waters God He straight-way in his hand did take his rod And stroke it on his banke wherewith the flood Did such a roaring make within the wood That straight the Nymph who then sate on her shore Knew there was somewhat to be 〈…〉 And therefore hasting to her Brothers Spring She spide what caus'd the waters ecchoing Saw where faire Marine fast asleepe did lie Whilst that the God still viewing her sate by Who when he saw his Sister Nymph draw neare He thus gan tune his voice vnto her eare My fairest Sister for we come Both from the swelling Tâ—eâ—is wombe The reason why of late I strooke My ruling wand vpon my Brooke Was for this purpose Late this Maid Which on my banke asleepe is laid Was by her selfe or other wight Cast in my spring and did affright With her late fall the fish that take Their chiefest pleasure in my Lake Of all the Fry within my deepe None durst out of their dwellings peepe The Trout within the weeds did sâ—â—d The Eele him hid within the mud Yea from this feare I was not free For as I musing sate to see How that the prettie Pibbles round Came with my Spring from vnder ground And how the waters issuing Did make them dance about my Spring The noise thereof did me appall That starting vpward therewithall I in my armes her bodie caught And both to light and life her brought Then cast her in a sleepe you see But Brother to the cause quoth she Why by your raging waters wilde Am I here called â— Thetis childe Replide the God for thee I sent That when her time of sleepe is spent I may commit her to thy gage Since women best know womens rage Meane while faire Nymph accompanie My Spring with thy sweet harmonie And we will make her soule to take Some pleasure which is said to wake Although the body hath his rest She gaue consent and each of them addrest Vnto their part The watrie Nymph did sing In manner of a prettie questioning The God made answer to what she propounded Whilst from the Spring a pleasant musicke sounded Making each shrub in silence to adore them Taking their subiect from what lay before them Nymph WHat 's that compact of earth infus'd with aire A â—ertâ—ine made full with vncertainties Sway'd by the motion of each seuerall Spheare Who 's 〈◊〉 with nought but infelicities Endures nor heat nor cold is like a Swan That this houre sings next dies God It is a Man Nymph What 's be borne to be sicke so alwaies dying That 's guided by ineuitable Fate That comes in weeping and that goes out crying Whose Kalender of woes is still in date Whose life 's a bubble 〈◊〉 length a span A consorâ— still in discorded God T is a man Nymph What 's hee whose thoughts are still â—uell'd in th' euent Though 〈◊〉 for lawfull by an opposite Hath all things fleeting nothing permanent And at 〈…〉 weares still a Parasite Hath friends in wealth or wealthie friends who caâ— In want proue meere illusions God T is a Man Nymph What 's he that what he is not striues to seemâ— Thus 〈◊〉 support an Atlas weight of care That of an outward good doth best esteeme And looketh not within how solid they are That doth not vertuous but the 〈…〉 Learning and worth by wealth God It is â— Man Nymph What 's that possessor which of good makes had And what is worst makes choice still for the best That grieueth most to thinke of what he had And of his chiefest lâ—sse accounteth 〈◊〉 That doth not what he ought but what he can Whos 's fancio's euer boundlesse God T is a man Nymph But what is it wherein Dame Nature wrought The best of works the onely frame of Heauen And hauing long to finde a present sought Wherein the worlds whole beautie might be giuen She did resolue in it all arts to summon To ioine with Natures framing God T is this Woman Nymph If beautie be a thing to be admired And if admiring draw to it affection And what we doe affect is most desired What wight is he to loue denies subiection And can his thoughts within himselfe confine Marine that waking lay said Celandine He is the man that hates which some admire He is the wight that loathes whom most desire 'T is onely he to loue denies subiecting And but himselfe thinkes none is worth affecting Vnhappy me the while accurst my Fate That Nature giues no loue where she gaue hate The watrie Rulers then perceiued plaine Nipt with the Winter of loues frost Disdaine This Non-par-el of beautie had beene led To doe an act which Enuie pitied Therefore in pitie did conferre together What Physicke best might cure this burning Feuer At last found out that in a Groue below Where shadowing Sicamours past number grow A Fountaine takes his iourney to the Maine Whose liquors nature was so soueraigne Like to the wondrous Well and famous Spring Which in Boetia hath his issuing That whoso of it doth but onely taste All former memorie from him doth waste Not changing any other worke of Nature But doth endow the drinker with a feature More louely faire Medea tooke from hence Some of this water by whose quintessence Aeson from age came backe to youth This knowne The God thus spake Nymph be thine owne And after mine This Goddesse here For shee s no lesse will bring thee where Thou shalt acknowledge Springs haue doe As much for thee as any one Which ended and thou gotten free If thou wilt come and liue with me No Shepherds daughter nor his wife Shall boast them of a better life Meane while I leaue thy thoughts at large Thy body to my sisters charge Whilst I into my Spring doe diue To see that they doe not depriue The Meadowes neere which much doe thirst Thus heated by the Sunne May first Quoth Marine Swaines giue Lambs to thee And may thy Floud haue seignorie Of all Flouds else and to thy
fruit as any tree that springs Beleeue me Maiden yow no chastitie For maidens but imperfect creatures be Alas poore Boy quoth Marine haue the Fates Exempted no degrees are no estates Frâ—e from Loues rage Be rul'd vnhappy Swaine Call backe thy spirits and recollect againe Thy vagrant wits I tell thee for a truth Loue is a Syren that doth shipwracke youth Be well aduis'd thou entertainst a guest That is the Harbinger of all vnrest VVhich like the Vipers young that licke the earth Eat out the breeders wombe to get a birth Faith quoth the Boy I know there cannot be Danger in louing or inioying thee For what cause were things made and called good But to be loued If you vnderstood The Birds that prattle here you would know then As birds wooe birds maids should be woo'd of men But I want power to wooe since what was mine Is fled and lye as vassals at your shrine And since what 's mine is yours let that same moue Although in me you see nought worthy Loue. Marine about to speake forth of a sling Fortune to all misfortunes plyes her wing More quicke and speedy came a sharpned flint VVhich in the faire boyes necke made such a dint That crimson bloud came streaming from the wound And he fell downe into a deadly swound The bloud ran all along where it did fall And could not finde a place of buriall But where it came it there congealed stood As if the Earth loath'd to drinke guiltlesse blood Gold-haird Apollo Muses sacred King VVhose praise in Delphos Ile doth euer ring Physickes first founder whose Arts excellence Extracted Natures chiefest quintessence Vnwilling that a thing of such a worth Should so be lost straight sent a Dragon forth To fetch this bloud and he perform'd the same And now Apothecaries giue it name From him that fetcht it Doctors know it good In Physicks vse and call it Dragons bloudâ— Some of the bloud by chance did down-ward fall And by a veine goâ— to a Minerall VVhence came a Red decayed Dames infuse it VVith Vâ—â—ise â—eruse and for painting vse it Marine astonisht most vnhappy Maid O'er-coâ—â— with feare and at the view afraid Fell downe into a tranâ—â— eyes lost their sight VVhich being open made all darknesse light Hâ—r bloud ran to her heart or life to fâ—ed Or lothing to behold so vile a deed And as when VVinter doth the Earth array In siluer-sâ—ite and wheâ— the night and day Arâ— in dissention Night locks vp the ground VVhich by the helpe of day is oft vnbound A shepherds boy with bow and shafts addrest Ranging the fields hauing once pierc'd the brest Of some poore fowle doth with the blow straight rush To â—atch the Bird lyes panting in the Bush So cusâ—â— this striker iâ— vp Marine tooke And hastned with her to a neare-hand Brooke Old Shepherds saine old shepherds sooth haue sainâ— Two Riuers tooke their issue from the Maine Boâ—h neere together and each bent his â—acâ— VVhich of them both should first behold the face Oâ—â—adiant Phoebus One of them in gliding Clime'd on a Veine where Nirâ—â— had abiding The other loathing that her purer Waue Should be defil'd with that the Niter gaue Fled fast away the other follow'd fast Till both beene â—n a Rocke ymeâ— at last As seemed best the Rocke did first deliuer Out of his hollow sides the purer Riuer As if it taught those men in honour clad To helpe the vertuous and suppresse the bad Which gotten loose did softly glide away As men from earth to earth from sea to sea So Riuers run and that from whence both came Takes what she gaue Waueâ— Earth but leaues a name As waters haue their course in their place Succeeding streames will out so is mans race The Name doth still suruiue and cannot die Vntill the Channels stop on Spring grow day As I haue seene vpon a Bridall day Full many Maidâ— clad in their best array In honour of the Bride come with their Flaskets Fill'd full with flowers others in wicker-baskets Bring from the Marish Rushes to o'er-spread The ground where on to Church the Louers tread Whilst that the quâ—intest youth of all the Plaine Vshers their way with many a piping straine So as in ioy at this faire Riuers birth Triton came vp a Channell with his mirth And call'd the neighb'ring Nymphs each in her turne To poure their pretty Riuilets from their Vrne To wait vpon this new-deliuered Spring Some running through the Meadowes with them bring Cowslâ—p and Mint and 't is anothers lot To light vpon some Gardeners curious knot Whence she vpon her brest loues sweet repose Doth bring the Queene of flowers the English Rose Some from the Fenne bring Reeds Wilde-tyme from Downs Some froÌ„ a Groue the Bay that Poets crowns Some from an aged Rocke the Mosse hath torne And leaues him naked vnto winters storme Another from her bankes in meere good will Brings nutriment for fish the Camomill Thus all bring somewhat and doe ouer-spread The way the Spring vnto the Sea doth tread This while the Floud which yet the Rocke vp pent And suffered not with iocund merriment To tread rounds in his Spring came rushing forth As angry that his waues he thought of worth Should not haue libertie nor helpe the pryme And is some ruder Swaine composing ryme Spends many a gray Goose-quill vnto the handle Buries within his socket many a Candle Blot Paper by the quire and dries vp Inke As Xerxes Armie did whole Riuers drinke Hoping thereby his name his worke should raise That it should liue vntill the last of dayes Which finished he boldly doth addresse Him and his workes to vnder-goe the Presse When loe O Fate his worke not seeming fit To walke in equipage with better wit Is kept from light there gnawne by Moathes and wormes At which he frets Right so this Riuer stormes But broken forth As Tauy creepes vpon The Westerne vales of fertile Albion Here dashes roughly on an aged Rocke That his entended passage doth vp locke There intricately mongst the Woods doth wander Losing himselfe in many a wry Meander Here amorously bent clips some faire Mead And then disperst in rils doth measures tread Vpon her bosome 'mongst her flowry ranks There in another place beares downe the banks Of some day labouring wretch here meets a rill And with their forces ioyn'd cuts out a Mill Into an Iland then in iocund guise Suruayes his conquest laâ—ds his enterprise Here digs a Caue at some high Mountaines foot There vndermines an Oake teares vp his rooâ— Thence rushing to some Country-farme at hand Breaks o'er the Yeomans mounds sweepes from his lanâ— His Haruest hope of Wheat of Rye or Pease And makes that channell which was Shepherds least Here as our wicked age doth â—acriledge Helpes downe an Abbey then a naturall bridge By creeping vnder ground he frameth out As who should say he either went about To right the wrong he did or hid his face For hauing
then it was wont this side the plaine Belike they meane since my best friend must die To shed their siluer drops as he goes by Not all this day here nor in comming hither Heard I the sweet Birds tune their Songs together Except one Nightingale in yonder Dell Sigh'd a sad Elegie for Philocel Neere whom a Wood-Doue kept no small adoe To bid me in her language Doe so too The Weathers bell that leads our flocke around Yeelds as me thinkes this day a deader sound The little Sparrowes which in hedges creepe Ere I was vp did seeme to bid me weepe If these doe so can I haue feeling lesse That am more apt to take and to expresse No let my owne tunes be the Mandrakes grone If now they tend to mirth when all haue none My pritty Lad quoth Thetis thou dost well To feare the losse of thy deere Philocel But tell me Siâ—e what may that Shepherd be Or if it lye in vs to set him free Or if with you yond people touch'd with woe Vnder the selfe same load of sorrow goe Faire Queene replide the Swaine one is the cause That moues our griefe those kind shepherds draws To yonder rocke Thy more then mortall spirit May giue a good beyond our power to merit And therefore please to heare while I shall tell The haplesse Fate of hopelesse Philocel Whilome great Pan the Father of our flocks Lou'd a faire lasse so famous for her locks That in her time all women first begun To lay their looser tresses to the Sun And theirs whose hew to hers was not agreeing Were still roll'd vp as hardly worth the seeing Fondly haue some beene led to thinke that Man Musiques invention first of all began From the dull Hammers stroke since well we know From sure tradition that hath taught vs so Pan sitting once to sport him with his Fayre Mark'd the intention of the gentle ayre In the sweet sound her chaste words brought along Fram'd by the repercussion of her tongue And from that harmony begun the Art Which others though vniustly doe impart To bright Apollo from a meaner ground A sledge or parched nerues meane things to found So rare an Art on when there might be giuen All earth for matter with the gyre of heauen To keepe her slender fingers from the Sunne Pan through the pastures oftentimes hath run To plucke the speckled Fox-gloues from their stem And on those fingers neatly placed them The Hony-suckles would he often strip And lay their sweetnesse on her sweeter lip And then as in reward of such his paine Sip from those cherries some of it againe Some say that Nature while this louely Maid Liu'd on our plaines the teeming earth araid With Damaske Roses in each pleasant place That men might liken somewhat to her face Others report Venus afraid her sonne Might loue a mortall as he once had done Preferr'd an earnest sute to highest Ioue That he which bore the winged shafts of loue Might be debarr'd his sight which sute was sign'd And euer since the God of Loue is blinde Hence is't he shoots his shafts so cleane awry Men learne to loue when they should learne to dye And women which before to loue began Man without wealth loue wealth without a man Great Pan of his kinde Nymph had the imbracing Long yet too short a time For as in tracing These pithfull Rushes such as are aloft By those that rais'd them presently are brought Beneath vnseene So in the loue of Pan For Gods in loue doe vndergoe as man She whose affection made him raise his song And for her sport the Satyres rude among Tread wilder measures then the frolike guests That lift their light heeles at Lyeus feasts Shee by the light of whose quick-turning eye He neuer read but of felicitie She whose assurance made him more then Pan Now makes him farre more wretched then a man For mortals in their losse haue death a friend When gods haue losses but their losse no end It chanc'd one morne clad in a robe of gray And blushing oft as rising to betray Intic'd this louely Maiden from her bed So when the Roses haue discouered Their taintlesse beauties flyes the early Bee About the winding Allies merrily Into the Wood and 't was her vsuall sport Sitting where most harmonious Birds resort To imitate their warbling in a quill Wrought by the hand of â—an which she did fill Halfe full with water and with it hath made Thâ— Nightingale beneath a sullen shade To chant her vtmost Lay nay to inuent New notes to passe the others instrument And harmelesse soule ere she would leaue that strife Sung he blast song and ended with her life So gladly chusing as doe other some Rather to dye then liue and be o're come But as in Autumne when birds cease their noateâ— And stately Forrests d'on their yealow coates When Ceres golden locks are nearely shorne And mellow fruit from trees are roughly torne A little Lad set on a banke to shale The ripened Nuts pluck'd in a wooddy Vale Is â—riglâ—ed thence of his deare life 〈◊〉 By some wilde Bull lowd bellowing for the heard So while the Nymph did earnestly contest Whether the Birds or she recorded best A Rauenous Wolfe bent eager to his prey Rush'd from a theeuish brake and making way The twined Thornes did crackle one by one As if they gaue her warning to be gone A rougher gale bent downe the lashing boughes To beat the beast from what his hunger vowes When she amaz'd rose from her haplesse seat Small is resistance where the feare is great And striuing to be gone with gaping â—awes The Wolfe pursueâ— and as his rending pawes Were like to seise a Holly bent betweene For which good deed his leaues are euer greene Saw you a lusty Mastiue at the stake Throwne from a cunning Bull more fiercely make A quicke returne yet to preuent the goare Or deadly bruize which he escap'd before Winde here and there nay creepe if rightly bred And proffring otherwhere fight still at head So though the stubborn boughes did thrust him back For Nature loath so rate a Iewels wracke Seem'd as she here and there had plash'd a treâ— If possible to hinder Destiny The sauage Beast foaming with anger flyes More fiercely then before and now he tries By sleights to take the Maid as I haue seene A nimble Tumbler on a burrow'd greene Bend cleane awry his course veâ— giue a checke And throw himselfe vpon a Rabbets necke For as he hoâ—ly chas'd the Loue of Pan A heard of Deere out of a thicket ran To whom he quickly turn'd as if he meant To leaue the Maid but when she swiftly bent Her race downe to the Plaine the swifter Deere He so one forsooke And now was got so neere That all in vaine she turned to and fro As well she could but not preuailing so Breathlesse and weary calling on her Loue With fearefull shrikes that all the Ecchoes moue To call him to she
all the tree was scene but bore Written thereon in rich and purest Ore The name of Pan whose lustre farre beyond Sparkl'd as by a Torch the Dyamond Or those bright spangles which faire Goddesse doe Shine in the haire of these which follow you The Shepherds by direction of great Pan Search'd for the root and finding it began In her true heart bids them againe inclose What now his eyes for euer euer lose Now in the selfe-same Spheare his thoughts must moue VVith him that did the shady Plane-tree loue Yet though no issue from her loines shall be To draw from Pan a noble peddigree And Pan shall not as other Gods haue done Glory in deeds of an heroicke Sonne Nor haue his Name in Countries neere and farre Proclaim'd as by his Childe the Thunderer If Phoebus on this Tree spread warming rayes And Northerne blasts kill not her tender sprayes His Loue shall make him famous in repute And still increase his Name yet beare no fruit To make this sure the God of Shepherds last When other Ceremonies were o're past And to performe what he before had vow'd To dire Reuenge Thus spake vnto the crow'd What I haue lost kinde Shepherds all you know And to recount it were to dwell in woe To shew my passion in a Funerall Song And with my sorrow draw your sighes along Words then well plac'd might challenge somewhat due And not the cause alone win teares from you This to preuent I set Orations by For passion seldome loues formalitie What profits it a prisoner at the Barre To haue his iudgement spoken regular Or in the prison heare it often read When he at first knew what was forfeited Our griefes in others teares like plates in water Seeme more in quantitie To be relator Of my mishaps speaks weaknesse and that I Haue in my selfe no powre of remedy 〈◊〉 yet that once too often heretofore The siluer Ladon on his sandy shore Heard my complaines and those coole groues that be Shading the brest of louely Arcady Witnesse the teares which I for Syrinx spent Syrinx the faire from whom the instrument That fils your feasts with ioy which when I blow Drawes to the â—agging dug milke white as snow Had his beginning This enough had beene To shew the Fates my deemed sisters â—ene Here had they staid this Adage had beene none That our disasters neuer come alone What boot is it though I am said to be The worthy sonne of winged Mercury That I with gentle Nymphs in Forrests high â—ist out the sweet time of my infancieâ— And when more yeeres had made me able growne Was through the Mountains for their leader known That high-brow'd Maenalus where I was bred And stony hils not few haue honoured Me as protector by the hands of Swaines Whose sheepe retire there from the open plaines That Inn Shepherds cups reiecting gold Of milke and honie measures eight times told Haue offred to me and the ruddy wine Fresh and new pressed from the bleeding Vine That gleesome Hunters pleased with their sport With sacrifices due haue thank'd me for 't That patient Anglers standing all the day Neere to some shallow stickle or deepe bay And Fishermâ—n whose nets haue drawne to land A shoale so great it well-nye hides the sand For such successe some Promontories head Thrust at by waues hath knowne me worshipped But to increase my griefe what profits this Since still the losse is as the looser is The many-kernell-bearing Pyne of late From all trees else to me was consecrate But now behold a root more worth my loue Equall to that which in an obscure Groue Infernall 〈◊〉 proper takes to her Whose golden slip the Troian wanderer By sage Cumoean Sybil taught did bring By Pates decreed to be the warranting Of his free passage and a safe repaire Through darke Auernus to the vpper ayre This must I succour this must I defend And from the wilde Boares rooting euer shend Here shall the Wood-pecker no entrance finde Nor Tiny's Beuers gnaw the clothing rinde Lambeders Heards nor Radnors goodly Deere Shall neuer once be seene a browsing here And now ye Brittish Swains whose harmelesse sheepe Then all the worlds besides I ioy to keepe Which spread on euery Plaine and hilly Wold Fleeces no lesse esteem'd then that of Gold For whose exchange one Indy Iems of price The other giues you of her choisest spice And well she may but we vnwise the while Lessen the glory of our fruitfull Isle Making those Nations thinke we foolish are For baser Drugs to vent our richer ware Which saue the bringer neuer profit man Except the Sexton and Physitian And whether change of Clymes or what it be That proues our Mariners mortalitie Such expert men are spent for such bad fares As night haue made vs Lords of what is theirs Stay stay at home ye Nobler spirits and prise Your liues more high then such base trumperies For beare to fetch and they 'le goe neere to sue And at your owne doores offer them to you Or haue their woods and plaines so ouer growne With poisnous weeds roots gums feedâ— vnknown That they would hire such Weeders as you be To free their land from such fertilitie Their Spices hot their nature best indures But 't will impaire and much distemper yours What our owne soyle affords befits vs best And long and long for euer may we rest Needlesse of helpe and may this Isle alone Furnish all other Lands and this Land none Excuse me Thetis quoth the aged man If passion drew me from the words of Pan Which thus I follow You whose flocks quoth he By my protection quit your industry For all the good I haue and yet may giue To such as on the Plaines hereafter liue I doe intreat what is not hard to grant That not a hand rend from this holy Plant The smallest brâ—nch and who so cutteth this Dye for th' offence to me so hainous ' t is And by the Floods infernall here I sweare An oath whose breach the greâ—â—est Gods forbeare Ere Phoebe thrice twelue times shall fill her homes No furzy tuft thicke wood nor brake of thornes Shall harbour Wolfe nor in this I le shall breed Nor liue one of that kinde if what 's decreed You keepe inuiolate To this they swore And since those beasts haue frighted vs no moâ—â— But Swaine quoth Thetis what is this you tell To what you feare shall â—â—ll on Philoâ—el Faire Queene at end but oh I feare quoth he Ere I haue ended my sad Historie Vnstaying time may bring on his last houre And so defraud vs of thy wished powre Yond goes a Shepherd giue me leaue to run And know the time of execution Mine aged limbs I can a little straine And quickly come to end the rest againe THE FIFTH SONG THE ARGVMENT Within this Song my Muse doth tell The worthy fact of Philocel And how his Loue and he in thrall To death depriu'd of Funerall The Queene of
Waues doth gladly saue And frees Marina from the Caue SO soone aâ— can a Martin from our Towne Fly to the Riuer vnderneath the Down And backe returne with mortâ—â— in her hill Some little â—â—â—nny in her nest to fill The Shepherd came And thus began anew Two houres alas onely two houres are due From time to him t' is sentenc'd so of those That here on earth as Destinies dispose The liues and deaths of men and that time past He yeelds his iudgement leaue and breaths his last But to the cause Great Goddesse vnderstand In Mona-Ile thrust from the Brittish land As since it needed nought of others store It would intire be and a part no more There liu'd a Maid so faire that for her sake Since she was borne the Ile had neuer Snake Nor were it fit a deadly sting should be To hazard such admired Symmetrie So many beauties so commâ—â—â— in one That all delight were dead if she were gone Shepherds that in her cleare eyes did delight Whilst they were open neuer held it night And were they shut although the morning gray Call'd vp the Sun they hardly thoughâ— it day Or if they call'd it so they did not passe Withall to say that it eclipsed 〈◊〉 The Roses on her cheekes such as each â—urne Phoebus might kisse but had no powre to burne From her sweet lips distill sweetâ— sweeteâ— doe Then from a Cherry halfe way cut in two Whose yeelding touch would aâ— Promet 〈…〉 Lumps truly senslesse with a Muse inspire Who praising her would youth's desire â—o 〈◊〉 Each man in minde should be a rauisher Some say the nimble-witted Mercury Went late disguis'd professing Palmistrie And Milk-maids fortunes told abouâ— the Land Onely to get a touch of her soft hand And that a Shepherd walking on the brim Of a cleare streame where she did vse to swim Saw her by chance and thinking she had beene Of Chastitie the pure and fairest Queene Stole thence dismaid lest he by her decree Might vndergoe Acteons destinie Did youths kinde heat inflame me but the snow Vpon my head shewes it coold long agoe I then could giue fitting so faire a feature Right to her fame and fame to such a creature When now much like a man the Palsie shakes And spectacles befriend yet vndertakes To limne a Lady to whose red and white Apelles curious hand would owe some right His too vnsteady Pencell shadowes here Somewhat too much and giues not ouer cleere His eye deceiu'd mingles his colours wrong There strikes too little and here staies too long Does and vndoes takes off puts on in vaine Now too much white then too much red againe And thinking then to giue some speciall grace He workes it ill or so mistakes the place That she which sits were better pay for nought Then haue it ended and so lamely wrought So doe I in this weake description erre And striuing more to grace more iniure her For euer where true worth for praise doth call He rightly nothing giues that giues not all But as a Lad who learning to diuide By one small misse the whole hath falsifide Caelia men call'd and rightly call'd her so Whom Philocel of all the Swaines I know Most worthy lou'd alas that loue should be Subiect to fortunes mutabilitie What euer learned Bards to fore haue sung Or on the Plaines Shepherds and Maidens young Of sad mishaps in loue are set to tell Comes short to match the Fate of Philocel For as a Labourer toyling at a Bay To force some cleere streame from his wonted way Working on this side sees the water run Where he wrought last and thought it firmely done And that leake stopt heares it come breaking out Another where in a farre greater spout Which mended to and with a turfe made trim The brooke is ready to o'reflow the brim Or in the banke the water hauing got Some Mole-hole runs where he expected not And when all 's done still feares lest some great raine Might bring a flood and throw all downe againe So in our Shepherds loue one hazard gone Another still as bad was comming on This danger past another doth begin And one mishap thrust out lets twenty in For he that loues and in it hath no stay Limits his blisse seld ' past the Marriage day But Philocels alas and Caelia's too Must ne're attaine so farre as others doe Else Fortune in them from her course should swerue Who most afflicts those that most good deserue Twice had the glorious Sun run through the Signer And with his kindly heat improu'd the Mines As such affirme with certaine hopes that try The vaine and fruitlesse Art of Alohymie Since our Swaine lou'd and twice had Phoebus bin In horned Aries taking vp his Inne Ere he of Caelia's heart possession won And since that time all his intentions done Nothing to bring her thence All eyes vpon her Watchfull as Vertues are on truest Honour Kept on the I le as carefully of some As by the Troians their Palladium But where 's the Fortresse that can Loue debar The forces to oppose when he makes war The Watch which he shall neuer finde asleepe The Spye that shall disclose his counsels deepe That Fort that Force that Watch that Spye would be A lasting stop to a fifth Emperie But we as well may keepe the heat from fire As seuer hearts whom loue hath made intire In louely May when Titans golden raies Make ods in houres betweene the nights and daies And weigheth almost downe the once-euen Scale Where night and day by th' Aequinoctiall Were laid in ballance as his powre he bent To banish Cynthia from her Regiment To Latmus stately Hill and with his light To rule the vpper world both day and night Making the poore Antipodes to feare A like coniunction 'twixt great Iupiter And some Aloâ—mena new or that the Sun From their Horizon did obliquely run This time the Swaineâ— and Maidens of the I le The day with sportiue dances doe beguile And euery Valley ringâ— with shepherds songs And euery Eccho each sweet noat prolongs And euery Riuer with vnusuall pride And dimpled cheeke rowles sleeping to the tide And lesser springs which ayrie-breeding Woods Preferre as hand-maids to the mighty floods Scarce fill vp halfe their channels making haste In feare as boyes lest all the sport be past Now was the Lord and Lady of the May Meeting the May-pole at the breake of day And Caelia as the fairest on the Greene Not without some Maids enuy chosen Queene Now was the time com'n when our gentle Swaine Must inne his haruest or lose all againe Now must he plucke the Rose lest other hands Or tempests blemish what so fairely stands And therefore as they had before decreed Our shepherd goâ—s a Boat and with all speed In night that doth on Louers actions smile Arriued safe on Mona's fruitfull Ile Betweene two â—ooks immortall without mother That stand as if one facing one another There ran a Creekâ— vp intricate
against all throes of Fate would stand Acknowledge it his deed and so afford A passage to his heart for Iustice sword Rather then by her losse the world should be Despiz'd and scorn'd for loosing such as she Now with a vow of secrecy from both Inforcing mirth he with them homewards go'th And by the time the shades of mighty woods Began to turne them to the Easterne Floods They thither got where with vndaunted heart He welcomes both and freely doth impart Such dainties as a Shepherds cottage yeeldâ— Tane from the fruitfull woods and fertile fields No way distracted nor disturb'd at all And to preuent what likely might befall His truest Caelia in his apprehending Thus to all future care gaue finall ending Into their cup wherein for such sweet Girles Nature would Myriades of richest Pearles Dissolue and by her powrefull simples striue To keepe them still on earth and still aliue Our Swaine infus'd a powder which they dranke And to a pleasant roome set on a banke Neere to his Coaâ— where he did often vse At vacant houres to entertaine his Muse. Brought them and seated on a curious bed Till what he gaue in operation sped And rob'd them of his sight and him of theirs Whose new inlightning will be quench'd with teares The Glasse of Time had well nye spent the Sand It had to run ere with impartiall hand Iustice must to her vpright Ballance take him Which he afraid it might too soone forsake him Began to vse as quickly as perceiue And of his Loue thus tooke his latest leaue Caelia thou fairest creature euer eye Beheld or yet put on mortalitie Caelia that hast but iust so much of earth As makes thee capable of death Thou birth Of euery Vertue life of euery good Whose chastest sports and daily taking food Is imitation of the highest powres Who to the earth lend seasonable showres That it may beare we to their Altars bring Things worthy their accept our offering I the most wretched creature euer eye Beheld or yet put on mortalitie Vnhappy Philocel that haue of earth Too much to giue my sorrowes endlesse birth The spring of sad misfortunes in whom lyes No blisse that with thy worth can sympathize Clouded with woe that hence will neuer flit Till death eternall night grow one with it I as a dying Swan that sadly sings Her moanfull Dirge vnto the siluer springs Which carelesse of her Song glide sleeping by Without one murmure of kinde Elegie Now stand by thee and as a Turtles maâ—e With lamentations inarticulate The neere departure from her loue bemones Spend these my bootlesse sighes and â—illing grones Here as a man by Iustice doome exilde To Coasts vnknowne to Desarts rough and wilde Stand I to take my latest leaue of thee Whose happy and heauen-making company Might I enioy in Libia's Continent Were blest fruition and not banishment First of those Eyes that haue already tane Their leaue of me Lamps fitting for the Phane Of heauens most powre which might ne're expire But be as sacred as the Vestall fire Then of those plots where halfe-Ros'd Lillies be Not one by Art but Natures industry From which I goe as one excluded from The taintlesse flowres of blest Elixium Next from those Lips I part and may there be No one that shall hereafter second me Guiltlesse of any kisses but their owne Their sweets but to themselues to all vnknowne For should our Swaines diuulge what sweeâ—â— there be Within the Sea-clipt bounds of Britanie We should not from inuasions be exempted But with that prize would all the world be tempted Then from her heart ô no! let that be neuer For if I part from hence I dye for euer Be that the Record of my loue and name Be that to me as is the Phoenix flame Creating still anew what Iustice doome Must yeeld to dust and a forgotten toombe Let thy chaste loue to me as shadowes run In full extent vnto the setting Sun Meet with my fall and when that I am gone Backe to thy selfe retyre and there grow one If to a second light thy shadow be Let him still haue his ray of loue from me And if as I that likewise doe decline Be mine or his or else be his and mine But know no other nor againe be sped She dyes a virgin that but knowes one bed And now from all at once my leaue I take With this petition that when thou shalt wake My teares already spent may serue for thine And all thy sorrowes be excus'd by mine â—ea rather then my losse should draw on hers Heare Heauen the suit which my sad soule prefers Let this her slumber like Obliuions streame Make her beleeue our loue was but a dreame Let me be dead in her as to the earth Ere Nature loose the grace of such a birth Sleepe thou sweet soule from all disquiet free And since I now beguile thy destinie Let after patience in thy brest arise To giue his name a life who for thee dies He dyes for thee that worthy is to dye Since now in leauing that sweet harmonie Which Nature wrought in thee he drawes not to him Enough of sorrow that might streight vndoe him And haue for meanes of death his parting hence So keeping Iustice still in Innocence Here staid his tongue and teares anew began Parting knowes more of griefe then absence can And with a backward pace and lingring eye Left and for euer left their company By this the curs'd Informer of the deede With wings of mischiefe and those haue most speed Vnto the Priests of Pan had made it knowne And though with griefe enough were thither flown With strict command the Officers that be As hands of Iustiâ—â— in her each decree Those vnto iudgement brought him where accus'd That with vnhappy hand he had abus'd The holy Tree and by the oath of him Whose eye beheld the separated limb All doubts dissolu'd quicke iudgement was â—warded And but last night that hiâ—her strongly guarded This morne he should be brought from yond â—oâ—k Where euery houre new store of mourners flocke He should be head-long throwne too hard a doome To be depriu'd of life and dead of toombe This is the cause faire Goddesse that appeares Before you now clad in an old mans teares Which willingly flow out and shall doe more Then many Winters haue seene heretofore But Father quoth she let me vnderstand How you are sure that it was Caelia's hand Which rent the branch and then if you can tell What Nymph it was which neere the lonely Dell Your shepherd succour'd Quoth the good old man The last time in her Orbe pale Cynthia ran I to the prison went and from him knew Vpon my vow what now is knowne to you And that the Lady which he found distrest Is Pida call'd a Maid not meanly blest By heauens endowments and. Alas â— but see Kinde Philocel ingirt with miserie More strong then by his bonds is drawing nigh The place appointed for