HODBINOL. PALINODE. PALINODE. And all that it containes, should as my heart Can make her onely thine ; for she will doe With those, that shall make thee mistrust them too, The Fairy brings, Wilt thou not leave to taint a virgine's name? A virgine! Yes: as sure as is her mother! I know not by what hand first from the stem, Dost thou not heare her good report by fame? With what I plucke myselfe shall I it prise ? HOBBINOL. Fame is a lyer, and was never other. Nay, if she ever spoke true, now she did ; And thou wilt once confesse wbat I foretold : She that is free both from the act and eie, The fire will be disclos'd that now lies hid, Onely deserves the due of chastitie. Nor will thy thought of her thus long time hold. Yet may she (if that possible can fall) Be true to thee, that hath been false to all. HOBBINOL. So pierce the rocks A red-breast's knocks, PALINODE. Speed your plow. I fear ere long Hath her allurements spent to work on me. You'le sing a song Like that was sung hereby not long ago ; Where there is carrion, never wants a crow. HOBBINOL. Ill-tutour'd swaine, If on the plaine [feed, With much ado, and with no little paine, Thy sheep hence-forward come where mine do Have I out-heard thy railing 'gainst my love : They shall be sure to smart for thy misdeed. PALINODE. Such are the thankes a friend's fore-warning brings. Or count the meadowe's flowers, or Isis' sands, Now, by the love I ever bore thee, stay ! Meete not mishaps! themselves have speedy wings. Can be in Phillis which Diana faire, HOBBINOL. Fond man, then cease peace EGLOGUES. If thou wilt live MASTER BROOKE AND MASTER DAVIES, To W. BROWNE, ON THE PUBLICATION OF THE Beleeve me, Hobbinol, what I have said SHEPHEARD'S PIPE. TO HIS MUCH-LOVED FRIEND, MASTER W. BROWNĖ, OF THE INNER TEMPLE, D.D. From jealousie ? Willie, well met, now whiles thy flocks do feed So dangerlesse, and free from any feare; From whence thou leav'st her; locke on her thy Lay by thy hooke, and take thy pleasant reed, Yet will her mind be still adulterate. [gate, And with thy melodie reblesse mine eare, Not Argos' eyes, Which (upon Lammas last) and on this plaine, Nor ten such spies, Thou plaidst so sweetly to thy skipping traine, BY ADDRESSED CUTTY. WILLIE. I, Cutty, then I plaid unto my sheepe For in thy straine thou do'st so farre exceed, CUTTY. Thy nicenesse shows thy cunning, nothing more, Lend me thine eares, and thou shalt heare me In praise of shepheards, and of thee, their king. My loved Willie, if there be a man A Jacob's staffe, to take the height of Heaven; To comprehend the Earth's rotunditie: Can sound the deepes and secrets of the maine: down) The victor's garland, and the poet's crown; grow. To this faire hill (from stormes and tempests free) That mount this hill and learning's path do treade: [lasses; Here admiration without envie's wonne, CHRISTOPHER BROOKE. THIRSIS AND ALEXIS. THIRSIS. ALEXIS, if thy worth doe not disdaine The humble friendship of a meaner swaine; Or some more needfull businesse of the day Urge thee to be too hasty on thy way; Come (gentle shepheard) rest thee here by me, Under the shadow of this broad-leav'd tree: For though I seeme a stranger, yet mine eye Observes in thee the markes of curtisie: And if my judgement erre not, noted too More than in those that more would sceme to doc: Such vertues thy rude modesty doth hide, Which by thy proper luster I espi'd; And tho' long mask't in silence they have beene, į I have a wisedom thro' that silence seene: Yea, I have learned knowledge from thy tongue, And heard when thou hast in concealment sung: Which me the bolder and more willing made Thus to invite thee to this homely shade. And tho' (it may be) thon couldst never spye Such worth in me to make me known thereby, In thee I doe; for here my neighbouring sheepe Upon the border of these downes I kecpe: Where often thou at pastorals and playes Hast grac'd our wakes on sommer holy-dayes: And many a time with thee at this cold spring Met I, to heare your learned shepherds sing, Saw them disporting in the shady groves, And in chast sonnets wcoe their chaster loves: When I, endued with the mean et skill, 'Mongst others have been urg'd to tune my quill; Where (cause but little cunning I had got) ALEXIS. Yes, Thirsis, I doe know thee and thy name, THIRSIS. Thankes, gentle swayne, that dost so soone unfold And if thou wilt but daigne to give me eare, ALEXIS. Willingly, Thirsis, I thy wish obey, THIRSIS. Then know, Alexis, from that very day, Pitty I had to see good parts conceal'd, To possesse much, and yet put nought in use: The first request that I would strive to get [skill, Then use their gifts thou must, ALEXIS. That's true indeed; but Envy hateth those THIRSIS. So let them; why should we their hate esteeme? ALEXIS. Yea, but if I apply me to those straines, THIRSIS. Alexis, now I see thou dost mistake, There is no meaning thou thy charge forsake; Nor would I wish thee so thyselfe abuse, As to neglect thy calling for thy Muse: But let these two so of each other borrow, That they may season mirth, and lessen sorrow. Thy flocke will helpe thy charges to defray, Thy Muse to passe the long and tedious day. Or whilst thou tun'st sweet measures to thy reed, Thy sheepe to listen will more neere thee feed; The wolves will shun them, birds above thee sing, And lambkins dance about thee in a ring; Nay, which is more, in this thy low estate Thou in contentment shalt with monarkes mate: For mighty Pan, and Ceres to us grants, Our fields and flockes, shall help our outward wants. The Muses teach us songs to put off cares, Grac'd with as rare and sweet conceits as theirs: And we can thinke our lasses on the greenes As faire, or fairer than the fairest queenes; Or, what is more than most of them shall do, Wee'le make their juster fatnes last longer too, Having our lines by greatest princes grac'd, When both their name and memory's defac'd. Therefore, Alexis, though that some disdaine The heavenly musicke of the rural plaine, What is't to us, if they (or'eseene) contemne The dainties which were nere ordain'd for them? And though that there be other some envy The praises due to sacred poesie, Let them disdaine and fret till they are wearie, We in ourselves have that shall make us merrie : Which he that wants, and had the power to know it, Would give his life that he might dye a poet. ALEXIS. Thou hast so well (yong Thirsis) plaid thy part, THIRSIS. Enough, kinde pastor: but, oh! yonder see AN EGLOGUE CEO. WITHER. BETWEEN YONGE WILLIE, THE SINGER OF HIS NATIVE PASTORALS, AND OLD WERNOCK, HIS FRIEND. WERNOCK. WILLIE, why lig'st thou (man) so wo-be-gon? What gars my Willie that he so doth wane? WII LIE. Now, sileer (Wernock) thou hast spilt the marke, WERNOCK, Is thilke the cause that thou been ligge so laid, To her wide mouth, which vents thy carolling fame. At Aganip, than, lay thee downe to drinke glee. Than up betimes, and make the sullen swaines WILLIE. Ah, Wernock, Wernock ! so my sp'rits beene steept Do now forlore her; nay, her most abuse? And harvest-queenes of yore would chaplets make To crowne their scalps that couth most swootly sing, And give hem many a gaude at ale or wake, WERNOCK. Vartue it's sed (and is an old said-saw) choice: [fame. Then spend we time, that time may spare our Looke how breeme winter chamfers earth's bleeke face! So, corbed elde accoyes youth's surquedry; Then nought can be achiev'd with witty shewes, I not what blisse is whelm'd with Heav'n's coape, They been as those that Heav'n's folke warble on. To leave parduring sovenance of my name. Maist rapt the senior swaines, and minor gods: A shepheard swaine; that sung lesse soote than thon, By light love's goddesse, had the grace to mount And vaile unto their lures; so, on hem seise. For, deftly song they han a charming scope; WILLIE. Ah, Wernock! so thy sawes mine heart downe thril In th' uncoth scope of both-twain hemispheres ; |