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A19479
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Loves riddle A pastorall comædie; written, at the time of his being Kings scholler in Westminster Schoole, by A. Cowley.
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Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.
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1638
(1638)
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STC 5904; ESTC S108967
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44,845
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90
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what if it should She hath refus'd you utterly already And cannot hurt you worse come come be rul'd And follow me we 'le put it straight in practize For 't is but a folly c. Pa. A match I le try alwayes she can but scorne me There is this good in depth of misery That men may attempt any thing they know The worst before hand Exeunt Enter Callidorus How happy is that man who in these woods With secure silence weares away his time Who is acquainted better with himselfe Then others who so great a stranger is To Citie follyes that he knowes them not He sits all day upon some mossie hill His rurall throne arm'd with his crooke his scepter A flowry garland is his country crowne The gentle lambes and sheepe his loyall subjects Which every yeare pay him their fleecy tribute Thus in an humble statelinesse and majestie He tunes his pipe the woods best melody And is at once what many Monarches are not Both King and Poet I could gladly wish To spend the rest of my unprofitable And needlesse dayes in their innocuous sports But then my father mother and my brother Recurse unto my thoughts and straight plucke downe The resolution I had built before Love names Philistus to me and o'th' sudden The woods seeme base and all their harmlesse pleasures The daughters of necessity not vertue Thus with my selfe I wage a warre and am To my owne rest a traytor I would faine Goe home but still the thought of Aphron frights me How now who 's here ô 't is faire Hylace The grumbling shepheards daughter Enter Hylace Brightest of all those starres that paint the woods And grace these shady habitations You 're welcome how shall I requite the benefit Which you bestow upon so poore a stranger With your faire presence Hyl. If it be any curtesie 't is one Which J would gladly doe you I have brought A rurall present some of our owne apples My father and my mother are so hard They watch'd the tree or else they had beene more Such as they are if they can please your tast My wish is crown'd Cal. O you 're too kind And teach that duty to me which I ought To have perform'd I would I could returne The halfe of your deserts but I am poore In every thing but thankes Hy. Your acceptation only is reward Too great for me Cal. How they blush A man may well imagine they were yours They beare so great a shew of modesty Hyl. O you mock my boldnesse To thrust into your company but truly I meant no hurt in 't my intents were vertuous Cal. The Gods forbid that I should nurse a thought So wicked thou art innocent I know And pure as Venus Doves or mountaine snow Which no foot hath defil'd thy soule is whiter if there be any possibilitie of 't Then that cleere skin which cloathes thy dainty body Hy. Nay my good will deserves not to be jeer'd You know I am a rude and countrey wench Cal. Farre be it from my thoughts I sweare I honour And love those maiden vertues which adorne you Hy. I would you did as well as I doe you But the just Gods intend not me so happy And I must be contented I 'me undone Ent. Bellula Here 's Bellula what is she growne my rivall Bell. Blesse me whom see I Hylace some cloud Or friendly mist involve me Hy. Nay Bellula I see you well enough Cal. Why doth the day start backe are you so cruell To shew us first the light and having struck Wonder into us snatch it from our sight If Spring crown'd with the glories of the earth Appeare upon the heavenly Ram and streight Creepe back againe into a grey-hayr'd frost Men will accuse its forwardnesse Hy. Pray heaven Hee be not taken with her shee 's somewhat faire He did not speake so long a speech to mee I 'me sure of 't though I brought him apples Bell. I did mistake my way Pray pardon me Hyl. I would you had else Cal. I must thanke fortune then which lead you hither But you can stay a little while and blesse us Bel. Yes and Love knowes how willingly alas I shall quite spoyle my garland ere I give it him With hiding it from Hylace 'Pray Fan Shee hath not stolne his heart already from him And cheated my intentions Hy. I would faine be going but if I should leave her It may be I shall give her opportunity To winne him from me for I know she loveth him And hath perhaps a better tongue then I Although I should bee loth to yeeld to her In beauty or complexion Bell. Let me speake In private with you I am bold to bring A garland to you 't is of the best flowers Which I could gather I was picking them All yesterday Cal. How you oblige me to you I thanke you sweetest How they flourish still Sure they grow better since your hand hath nipt them Bell. They will doe when your brow hath honour'd them Then they may well grow proud and shine more freshly Call What perfumes dwell in them They owe these odours to your breath Hy. Defend me yee good Gods I thinke he kisses her How long they have beene talking now perhaps Shee 's woing him perhaps he forgets me And will consent I 'le put him in remembrance You have not tasted of the apples yet And they were good ones truly Call I will doe presently best Hilace Hy. That 's something yet would he would speake so alwayes Cal. I would not change them for those glorious apples Which give such fame to the Hesperian gardens Bell. She hath out-gone me in her present now But I have got a Beechen cup at home Curiously graven with the spreading leaves And gladsome burthen of a fruitfull vine Which Damon the best Artist of these woods Made and bestow'd upon me I 'le bring that tomorrow And give it him and then I 'le warrant her Shee will not goe beyond me Hy. What have you got a chaplet ôh This is I see of Bellula's composing Bell. Why Hylace you cannot make a better What flowers 'pray doth it want Cal. Poore soules I pitty them and the more Because I have not beene my selfe a stranger To these love passions but I wonder What they can find in me worth their affection Truly I would faine satisfie them both But can doe neither 't is fates crime not mine Ball. Weither goe you shepheard Hyl. You will not leave us will you Cal. Indeed I ought not You have both me bought with your courtesies And should divide me Hy. Shee came last to you Bell. She hath another love And kills Palaemon with her cruelty How can shee expect mercy from another In what a Labyrinth doth Love draw mortalls And then blindfolds them what a mist it throwes Vpon their senses if he be a God As sure he is his power could not be so great else He knowes the impossibilitie which Nature Hath set betwixt us yet entangles us