CENTRE
for
REFORMATION
an(:J
RENAISSANCE
STUDIES
VICTORIA
UNIVERSITY
T O R O N T O
III.
THE POETICAL WORKS
EDMUND SPENSER
OF
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOLUME I
HENRY FROWDE, M.A.
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSlTY OF OXFORD
LOIqDOIq EDIIqBURGH IqEW YORK
TOROIqTO AIqD MELBOURNE
SPENSER'S
MINOR
POEMS
ERNEST
EDITED BY
DE SELINCOURT
AT THE
OXFORD
CLARENDON
MCMX
PRESS
vi INTRODUCTION.
also those other changes which serve to illustrate, in even more
important respects, the mutual relations of the texts. The
general character of those trivial orthographical changes
which I have omitted may be inferred from those that are
duly recorded ; and their tendency, as would be expected, is
towards modernization.
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
It seems likely that Spenser wrote The Shepheardes Calender
shortly before its publication. But when E. K. speaks of it
in his letter to Harvey as « the maydenhead of this our
commen frends Poetrie' he does hOt intend to imply that it
was his first composition, for a few lines earlier he has referred
to ' divers other excellent works of his, which slepe in silence,
as his Dreames, his Legendes, his Court of Cupide and
sondry others'; rather is he viewing it as the poet's first
serious appeal to the general public.
Of The Shepheardes Calender rive editions, in quarto,
appeared in the poet's lifetime, in 579 (Q ), in 58 (Q ),
in I589 (Q3),in 591 (Q4),in I597 (Q5)- They were
all published anonymously, the authorship being first publicly
acknowledged in the 6 Folio of Spenser's collected poems.
An exhaustive collation of these editions proves conclusively,
that though some of the corrections may have been ruade at
Spenser's instigation, he cannot be regarded as in any way
responsible for the general form of the text after Q .
Each Quarto was printed from its predecessor, and F
from Q 5- Each edition corrects a few errors, reproduces
many, and initiates others ; and these in their turn were
either incorporated in the later editions, or wrongly emended
by conjecture when the correct reading might have been
restored by a reference to Q . That there was no thorough-
going and systematic revision of the text in these editions
can be proved by their sins both of omission and of coin-
INTRODUCTION. vii
mission. Thus the beautiful stanza omitted from June by
Q 5 is hOt found in F ; 11. 316- 7 of p. ",8, dropped in Q 4,
are absent from Q 5 and F ; and on p. 59 the words 'in
Fraunce ', dropped in Q3, do not appear in subsequent
editions. The gradual deterioration of the text through
the blind reliance of each edition upon its immediate pre-
decessor is proved by the textual variants tobe found at the
foot of almost every page of this edition. The point may
here be illustrated by the recurrence from Q to Q 5 of the
absurd form 'kithousiasmos' for vOovrtarlO, only corrected
in F, and by the failure of Q z to understand the Northern
form ' glitterand' for ' glittering', which, therefore, it prints
'glitter and '--a fault that persists into F through all the
intervening Quartos. An instructive example of a more
elaborate kind is to be round in Februarie zz9, where Qq i- 3
read :--
Now gan he repent his pryde to late :
For naked left and disconsolate, &c.
Q 4 misprints ' For' as ' Yor ', and Q 5, seeing that the
passage as it stands is nonsense, does hot examine an earlier
text, but is content with its own conjecture :--
Now gan he repent his pryde to late,
Yore naked left and disconsolate.
--which, indeed, makes a kind of sense, but a very different
one from that which the poet obviously intended. And F
follows Q 5.
Similarly, I think, the orthographical authenticity of
Q I may be upheld against that of later editions.
Even in the nineteenth century, when a somewhat rigid
orthodoxy has prevailed in the matter of spelling, several
poets (Landor, for example, Keats, even Wordsworth,) bave
preferred at times to follow their own peculiar taste ; and
Spenser, as is shown by The Faerie Queene (particularly by
viii IN TR.OD UCTI ON.
the rime words, which are the safest test), took full advantage
of the latitude in orthography which obtained in the six-
teenth century. Now the spelling of Q is definitely
archaic, dialectical, experimental, of a piece with the general
character of the poem ; and in every succeeding edition,
especially in Qq 3, 5, and F, it tends to become more
normal. The very fact that many of these wellnigh in-
numerable changes are so trivial goes far towards proving
that Spenser had no hand in any of them. He would never
have given himself the trouble to alter 'happye' into 'happy',
' faynt' into ' faint ', and so on, ad infinitum, when once they
had been set up in type, even if he had himself a preference
for one or other of the forms. It is unreasonable to suppose
that Spenser altered some of the orthography himself, and
hOt ail; and anyhow we should hardly be justified in
selecting some alterations as genuine and rejecting others.
Changes such as 'threttie' to 'thirty', 'hem' and 'her' to
'them' and 'their', 'lepped' to 'leaped', 'solein' to 'sullen',
' whott' to ' hot', ' bloosmes' to ' blossoms', are not only unlike
Spenser prima facie, but they seem the more so when we find
that often the change comes either gradually or through
another form which shows that the earlier one was hOt
understood by the corrector. Thus 'hem' tends to become
'him' before it becomes 'them', 'solein' only becomes
'sullen' through 'soleine' and 'sullein', 'floweretts' becomes
'florets' through 'flowrets', 'bloosmes' becomes 'blossoms'
through 'blosomes', and ' Gate' becomes 'Goat', though the
Northern form is the subject of a special gloss, which is
retained after 'Gate' has been removed from the text. If ail
this is viewed in the light of the fact that in other re-
spects succeeding editions show a general deterioration in
accuracy, it is difficult to accept as genuine any orthographical
emendations of QqoE-5 or F. To what extent the spelling
of Q , in ail its details, is Spenser's it is impossible to
INTRODUCTION. ix
determine without an autograph MS. of the poem. I feel
myself, that were such a MS. extant, it would contain rather
more than less orthographical peculiarities than are preserved
in Q I ; for, misprints apart, the tendency of a compositor is
always towards normalization rather than idiosyncrasy. But
we may, I think, be certain that if we have not Spenser's own
spelling in Q we have it nowhere, and there is strong
evidence in favour of the view that in ail important respects
the spelling of Q , the only edition printed from MS., is
really authentic.
Our view of the part played by Spenser in overseeing
the production of Q is in some measure affected by
our opinion as to the identity of E.K. For if we
suppose E. K. to be a pleasant creation of Spenser's by
whose mouth he could blow his own trumpet, his own share
in the publication is necessarily greater than if we take the
more natural view that Edward Kirke, or some other friend
of the poet's, wrote the Epistle, Argument and Gloss, and,
as would be natural to assume in that case, was generally
responsible for seeing the poem through the press. But
after making ail allowance for the fact that the poem was
anonymous and that the literary etiquette of the Elizabethan
age was in many ways different from our own, I shall need far
better evidence than has as yet been put forward to convince
me that Spenser wrote the Epistle and Gloss, or indeed that
he saw certain portions of it before it had been printed. 1 Yet
even on the assumption that E. K. is not Spenser, and that
Spenser never saw the proofs of Uhe Shepheardes Calender, the
case still remains good for Q as against all subsequent
editions. The poems would naturally be printed from
a manuscript in Spenser's handwriting; and E. K., with his
reverence, at times exaggerated, for the work of his friend,
* The matter is to my mind conclusively dealt with by Professor Herford
in his edition of The SteiOteardes Calender, 189.
x I NIKUU UL. IUD.
would be likely to respect as far as possible every detail of
the original design.
The obvious conclusion, therefore, is that Spenser, or
E. K., or both, took some pains over the production of Q I ;
but that subsequent editions, though supplying corrections,
some of which may bave been communicated by the poet or
his friends, are too full both of grave errors and of quite
insignificant changes to be regarded as possessing as a whole
any real independent authority.
A few remarks follow, descriptive of each Q and of F,
and illustrative of the general views which I bave expressed as
to their relation to one another.
The following entry
Company of Stationers
cember (I 579) :--
Q i (i579).
is round in the Registers of the
of London I under the date 5 De-
'Hughe Singelton: Lycenced wato him the Shepperdes
Calender conteyninge xii eclogues proportionable to the xij
monethes, vj. '
The volume must have been produced, therefore, sometime
between April, the date of E. K.'s Epistle, and December.
The title-page and the woodcuts which illustrated each of
the poems, are reproduced in facsimile in this edition. The
introductory verses which follow the title-page were printed
in large italics, the Epistle, the General Argument, and the
Gloss which is appended to each poem in a small but clear
roman type, and the poems themselves in black letter.
Judged as a whole the book is a fine example of early
Elizabethan printing and it bas few serious typographical
errors. A glance at the apparatus criticus supplied in my foot-
notes will show that the text of Q I is seldom unintelligible
i Transcript of the Re£isters of the Company of 8tationers of London from
4-64o a. D., pri'ately printed by Edward Arber, 875 : vol. ii. p. 36.
INTRODUCTION. xi
and that the later Quartos mar far more passages than they
mend. I have already discussed its general characteristics.
Dr. Sommer is my authority I for the statement that only
four copies are known to be extant, those in the British
Museum, the Bodleian, at Trinity College, Cambridge, and
in the Huth Library. Of these I have examined the first
two in the preparation of this edition.
Q.o. (i58I)"
I'n the Stationers' Register, under the date Oct. OE9, 58,
we find the entry :--'John harrison : Assigned ouer from
hugh Singleton to have the sheppardes callender, which was
hugh Singleton's copy.-vjd.'
The title runs as in Q , but at the bottom of the page we
read : ' Imprinted at London for John Harison the younger,
dwelling in Pater noster Roc, at the signe of the Anker, and
are there to be solde.' The Colophon names Thomas East
as the printer.
Taken as a whole Q OE is a creditable piece of work, and
shows a more careful adherence to its predecessor than do the
later Quartos. It retains most of the archaisms and spellings
characteristic of Q , and makes some important but obvious
corrections, such as 'Forsake' for ' For sake' (p. 38),
' mourne' and ' tourne' for' morune' and' torune' (p. xc9).
For this reason I ana inclined to view its emendations, when
they are an improvement, as more likely to be authorized
than those of the later Quartos, e.g. ' delight' for ' delights'
(Arg. to Jan.),' Alas 'for ' Als' (Match 4o),' Phoebus 'for
' Phebus ' (p. 43)- But al:ter all such cases are few, and we
have much to set against them. For it leaves errors that it
might easily have detected, e. g. 'hOt hot' (p. 4 o) and three
The Shel)hearde« Calender. Original Ed. in photographie facsimile, with
an Introduction by H. Oskar Sommer. London, 189o , p. 2.
Arber, op. cit. il. 38o.
xii
others Oll p. I 13, and it initiates several which persist in later
texts. Two of these I bave already noted. Others are 'guists'
for' giusts' (p. 98), 'wethered' for 'wrethed' (p. 4z), and 'the'
for ' thou' (p. Ic)7). And its use of the Roman alphabet for
Greek words, in which it is followed by all the later Quartos,
is not only clumsy in itself but is responsible for some bad
misprints.
Q 3 (1586).
Q 3 has the same title and dedication as Q OE, but at the
bottom of the page it reads ' Imprinted at London by John
Wolfe for John Harison the yonger, dwelling in Pater
noster Roe, at the signe of the Anker. I586.' Notwith-
standing this, the colophon states Thomas East to be the
printer. The letterpress of the title.page is surrounded by
a new and elaborate woodcut design.
Perhaps the chier feature of this Quarto is its marked tend-
ency towards modernization. Two examples of this are round
on p. 7 ; others are the spelling of' scarlet' (Feb. 68),' bote'
for 'whott' (March 4), ' foolish ' for 'folish' (May 96), and
« without' for ' withouten', though the change mars the
metre (May 46). In one or two places Q3 improves
a faulty punctuation, but its chier emendation is the reading
of' overcrawed' for ' overawed' (Feb. x4oE), which should,
I think, be accepted. The proofs seem to have been read
by a classical scholar, or at least by some one interested ira
Latin; the 'ferum' and 'quoe' (p. xoEx)and 'allissimus'
(P- 77) of Qq x, OE are corrected ; the Gloss on 'reeds : auena'
(p. xox) is put into the plural; for 'Bucoliques' of Virgil,
' Georgics', which was obviously E. K.'s meaning, is substi-
tuted ; and for the first time we are given the right forms
«Castalias' and « Atropos' Even « Tityrus' is
« sarcasmus ', .
onl), once misspelt in Q 3. But it was hot so happy with
Greek, coining the strange word 'lipiphonematicos' on
INTRODUCTION. xiii
p. IO4, which Qq 4, 5 guilelessly accepted. And Q 3 is re-
sponsible for many errors which persisted in subsequent
editions. Among the worst of these are 'cost' for 'cast'
(March 63) , ' delight' for' delights ' (April 3), ' Ylke' for
' Ylike ' (May 4),' sauenance ' for' souenance (lb. 82), though
the word is printed correcfly in the Gloss, 'strickling' for
' trickling ' (July 8), which Grosart accepts, ' laurel' for 'rural'
(Dec. 18), ' and bloosmes ' for ' with bloosmes ' (ib. o 3).
On the whole Q 3 left the text a good deal worse than it
round it.
Q4 (I59I) .
Q 4 used the same woodcut as Q 3 to surround the letter-
press of the title, which runs as in Q 3, save that for entitled'
we read ' entituled' and at the foot of the page ' LONDON
Printed by John Windet, for John Harrison the yonger,
dwelling in Pater noster Roe, at the signe of the Anger.
I59I .
The misprint Anger' for ' Anker' upon the title-page is
characteristic of the volume. It is reasonable to assume that
the interest awakened by Uhe Faerie Queene, of which Books
I-III had appeared in the previous year, caused an unex-
pectedly rapid sale of the remaining copies of Q 3, so that
Q 4 was produced with undue haste ; however that may be,
it is without question the most carelessly printed of all the
Quartos. If, as some editors have held, Spenser saw to the
printing of the diffèrent editions of the poem, this is the one
which upon external evidence he would be the most likely to
have read in proof, for he was probably in England at the time
ofits preparation for press, yet it is full of errors which make
nonsense of many a passage, and some of these at least could
hOt have failed to catch the eye of the author. Where these
have been quietly corrected in Q 5 I have hot always recorded
them in my footnotes (e. g. ' nighe' and « mow' for ' night'
xiv
and 'now ', Nov. 65, x7x), but many of them corrupted
the texts of Q 5 and F. One of these I have already dis-
cussed. Other examples are 'wingdring' for 'wandring'
(P-34), 'goodly head' and 'beastly head' for 'goodlihead'
(Feb. i84) and 'beastlyhead' (May 265) , 'round delay' for
'roundelay' (Aug. 56) and 'thirling' for 'thrilling' (May
2o8), both ofwhich Grosart accepts, and' pond' for' ponder '
(Feb. x 5 I), which thus gains a place in Johnson's Dictionary
as a genuine Spenserian form.
Q 5 (I 597)-
Q 5, the last edition printed in the lifetime of the poet,
appeared in 1597, the year after the issue of the second instal-
ment of The Faerie Queene. The woodcut surrounding the
title.pages of Qq 3, 4 was not used, but its absence is com-
pensated by an elaborate emblem in the centre.
At the foot of the page we read : ' IONDON Printed
by Thomas Creede, for John Harrison the yonger, dwelling
in Pater noster Row, at the signe of the Anchor. 1597-'
The spelling of the words ' Row ' and « Anchor" suggests
the prevailing characteristic of this volume, which attempts
throughout to bring the poem into line with the latest de-
velopments of Elizabethan spelling. Thus changes like
'eche one' to 'each one', 'bene' to 'be', 'lepped' to
' leaped' are common enough. It is to be noted that many
of the modernizations, which are attributed by Todd and
others to F, are in reality found for the first time in Q 5-
Its chief corrections are 'fift' for 'first' (May: Arg.) and
'tickle' for 'trickle' (July i4). But its errors are many.
Though it corrects some of Q 4's misprints, it incorporates
a large number of them, and it adds others. It omits
a whole stanza in June ; it is peculiarly weak in the spelling
of classical names, altering ' Pandares' to ' Pindares' (p. 3)
and almost invariably stumbling over ' Tityrus '; and it per-
INTRODUCTION. xv
petrates on its own account, among other errors, ' sheepe ' for
' keepe', ' lowd' for 'lewd' (July t33, ISI), ' Entraibed ' for
' Entrailed' (Aug. 3o), ' ystablished' for ' ystabled ', and
' mournful' for ' mournfulst' (Nov. 15, 53)" On the whole
it is the most carelessly printed of ail the Quartos save Q 4,
and it presints thi least Spinserian text of them ai1.
F (i6i i).
In 1611 a Folio volume appeared with this title : ' The
Faerie Qveen : The Shepheards Calendar ; Together with
the other Works of England's Arch-Poet, Edm. Spenser.
Collected into one Volume, and carefuily corrected. Printed
by H. L. for Mathew Lownes. Anno Dom. i61 l, fol.'
The dedication which follows is copied from the 1596
edition of The Faerie Queene. The Faerie Queene and Shep-
heardes Calender are separately paged, and the woodcuts to be
round in all the Quartos are again used.
In the main F foilows Q 5" It adopts, for the most part,
the changes in the text which have gradually accumulated
through the Quartos, and it carries still further the process of
modernization. Judged as a whole it is a creditable piece of
work ; it adds few errors of its own, and hot only makes
many corrections where Q 5 is obviously at fault, but in
places improves upon Q I. Of these the chier to be noted
are 'Abib' for 'Abil' (p. i z), 'Behight' for 'Bedight'
(P-44), «shroud' for 'shouder' (June I6), 'rauenes' for
' rauene' (June z4), 'a starre' for 'the starres' (July 99), 'yead'
for 'yeeld' (Sept. I45). The last ofthese alone seems to point
to some independent source, for an archaism like 'yead'
would hardly occur to the printer ; the test might easily be
the corrections of any intelligent reader. Similarly the
majority of F's corrections of Q 5 point rather to happy
conjecture than to authority or research, though a few are
more naturally regarded as the result of collation. Thus
xvi
INTRODUCTION.
such obvious reversions to an earlier Quarto as the rejection of
'as plying' in favour of 'applying' (p. 8), of 'round delay' in
favour of 'rounddelay' (Aug. 56), or of 'sighes' in favour of
'sithes' (Jan. 49), are probably conjectures of the printers:
whilst such reversions as those from 'unright' (Qq 3-5)to
'ungyrt' (Q I) (p. 6), from 'wretched' to 'wreathed' (May
186), from 'sweeter' to 'she sweeter' (Aug. 7OE), from 'clad'
to 'yclad' (Nov. l l 8), point to the study of a text behind
Q 5; for whilst they are unquestionably right, the change is
subtler, and the fault corrected hOt serious enough to occur to
a reader on his own initiative. But any collation that there
may have been was only of a fitful and most perfunctory kind.
The emendations noted at the foot of pages 99, ooE, suggest
that F often preferred conjecture to research, and the number
of times that a bad reading of Q 5 is cheerfully accepted is
enough to prove that there was no systematic reference to the
earlier copies.
My general inference is that F was printed from Q 5 with
a real desire, as stated on its title-page, to present a copy
'carefully corrected'. In order to secure this end occasional
reference was ruade, either to a Quarto earlier than Q 5 or to
a copy of Q 5 with some few corrections noted in it. But if
F has little claim to independent authority, it is in this respect
no worse off than the later Quartos, and it offers on its own
account a few emendations of more value than any to be
found in its predecessors.
COMPLAINTS (I 5 9 I).
In 'oee Printer to the Gentle Reader (v. p. IOES) William
Ponsonbie informs us that we owe the publication of this
volume to the success attending 'his late setting foorth of
the Faerie Queene'. This induced him to procure and
publish what poems of Spenser's he could find circulating in
MS. among his friends. As in the same preface it is statcd
INTRODUCTION. xvii
that the venture has been undertaken 'since his departure
over Sea',l we may conjecture that Spenser had no opportunity
of correcting the proofs. My text of Complaints is based
upon the Quarto of i59i ; and its title-pages, both the
frontispiece to the volume and that to those poems which have
separate title-pages in the original, are reproduced in facsimile.
It will be noted that the Muiopotmos is dated 1590; and it is
possible that the poem was printed, though hot published,
separately in that year, so that Spenser had a chance of
seeing it in proof. The point is interesting, as half of the
passages, and the more important hall, in which different
copies of the Quarto have different readings (v. infra) are to
be round in this short poem of 440 lines. Muiopotmos, The
Ruines of û'ime, and The Teares of the Muses were probably of
recent composition; though it is highly probable that in the
two last was incorporated much earlier work--some of it
doubtless that which E. K. had referred to in his letter to
Harvey (p. 8, 1. zoo). The Ruines of ime is shown by its
dedication to have been given at an), rate its present form
'sithens my late coming to England' (i. e. in I589). The
Teares of the Muses, out of touch as it is with the develop-
ment of poetry which finds such generous, if somewhat
uncritical, recognition only a little later in Colin Clouts Corne
Home lgaine, was penned, I incline to believe, whilst Spenser
was still in Ireland. Firgils Gnat and Mother Hubberds Tale are
definitely spoken of, the one as 'long since dedicated', the
other as written in the 'raw conceipt of youth'; and though
it is wellnigh certain that Mother Hubberds Tale had under-
gone a recent revision and received much addition, one can
understand that Spenser would have his reasons for keeping
The view has been held that these words refer to Spenser's departure in
I$8O, and hOt in ç91, and also that the preface is by Spenser himself, and
hOt by the printer in whose name it stands. But the evidence advanced does
hOt convince me.
xviii INTRODUCTION.
back this fact. The other poems in the volume are obviously
of early date, probably before he S]ep]eardes Calender, and
the rime-structure of Whe Fisiones of the ICorlds Fanitie suggests
that it is later than the other four.
Previous editors of Spenser have hot been slow in
pointing out each other's inaccuracies in printing or quoting
from Q, but no one of them has taken into account the
fact that, as is not uncommon in Elizabethan books, different
copies of the same edition present, in a few passages, different
readings. Grosart, indeed, has referred to it in one place
(Muiopotmos 37o), but he made no collation, following the
Huth copy throughout, and expressing scepticism or wonder
at those who, unknown to him, were following other copies.
My text has been printed from the Bodleian copy (quoted
as Q), and I have compared it in all passages of difficulty
with the copies in the British Museum (B.M.), the Rylands
Library, Manchester (R.), and in the private collections of
T. J. Wise, Esq. (W.), H. T. Butler, Esq. (B.), Alfred
Huth, Esq. (Hut Q). To W. W. Greg, Esq., I am indebted
for the readings of the Capell copy in the Library of Trinity
College, Cambridge (C.). 1 B.M. and R. agree with Q,
whilst W. and C. have the same combinations of the readings
to be round in Q and Huth Q. No copy that I have seen
gives in every case the right reading, the natural inference
being that the corrected and the uncorrected sheets were
bound up indiscriminately.
There is among the Harleian MSS. at the British Museum
a transcript of Complaints in a hand dating from 596.
I have not collated it in detail, but have been content with
examining it on every passage which offers difficulty, or
where Q, Hut Q, and F off.er variants. It appears to be
And also for a report uFon the ' Wright' copy in the saine library. This
copy is identical with Q, save that in Ruine« of ïm« 3 3 3 it has a turned period
instead of a comma.
INTRODUCTION. xix
a careful copy of Huth Q, which it follows as a rule even in
its errors le.g. in 'raime' for 'crime' (Teares of Muses 435),
and in 'words' for 'worlds' (Ruines o[ Time 574), and in the
dropping of 'Dull' (Muiop. i96)]. It supplies two or three
independent corrections (Iirgils Gnat 575, 'Billows', Mother
Hubberd 648 , the dropped 'at', Teares of Muses 486, 'soven-
ance' for 'soverance'), and also some which are found in F;
but its adherence to Q where F has supplied obvious
corrections, e.g. of the mistakes of Huth Q, supra, of
'singulfs' for 'singults', and its preference for the spellings
of Q rather than of F, e.g. 'Occean' for 'Ocean', show that
its occasional agreement with F is accidental.
Of Mother Hubberds Tale Grosart possessed a MS.
(referred to by me as G. MS.), described by him as 'carefully
written and prepared . . . which reveals itself as no mere
transcript of the 159 t print'. It is dated I6O7, and of
quite unknown source. I have hot seen the MS. and have
only quoted its more important variants. Grosart was of
opinion that it was a transcript of a MS. of Spenser's, and it
is perhaps natural that he should be inclined to overrate its
value. But it will be clear, I think, to any one who
examines the poem in his edition» that he is far too ready to
admit its readings into his text, sometimes indeed when
the 159I text is obviously superior. It offers one or
two attractive variants (e.g. at 11. 418, I2o4, and I224)
which escaped the notice of F; but many of its changes,
in passages where Q's reading is unusual or difficult
either in metre or in sense, seem to me less like emenda-
tions ruade by Spenser himself than modernizations or
smoothenings of rhythm of the kind that Grosart himself so
deeply resents when they occur in F. Anyhow, considering
its late date and its unknown source, it ,an only be treated
with the greatest reserve.
F supplies us with several obvious corrections of Q, and
b2
xx INTRODUCTION.
a few of these may possibly be due to the recorded wishes
of the author; but it is principally distinguished by its
tendency to modernize, and to smooth over what appears to
its editor an undue ruggedness of metre. Its punctuation
in particular is more modern and more logical than Q's. Q
has a partiality, though by no means systematically carried
out, for ending a line with a comma and the second and
fourth lines of a stanza with a colon or semi-colon. F
rather seeks in punctuating to elucidate the sense. I have
adhered to Q except where it leaves a line in serious
danger of being misunderstood. Of F's desire to improve
or to enforce the rhythm of the line there are numerous
examples. In dealing with 'he Shepheardes Calender F made
only one emendation with this object, the editor realizing, in
all probability, that a certain ruggedness formed part of the
poet's intention; in Complaints he introduces regularity into
a line even at the expense of its meaning (cf. l/irgils Gnat
609). At times he will emphasize the necessary pronun-
ciation by phonetic spelling, e.g. 'fier' for 'tire', 'Heroës' for
Heroes'; at others he will invert the order of words to
normalize the rhythm, reading bred was' for was bred'
(Ruines of Time 647, and cf. 664), and 'The Giants old' for
'The old Giants' (Ruines of Rome 48). Occasionally he will go
still further, omitting a word or rearranging more elaborately,
e.g. in Ruines of Time 455, 'Nor alive nor dead,' &c., omitting
the first Nor', and altering I. 57 :
Was but earth, and with her owne weightinesse
to
Was but of earth, and with her weightinesse.
Opinions may differ as to how far any of these changes
had Spenser's authority behind them; it may possibly be
urged that Spenser as a whole tends rather to an unvaried,
even monotonous melodiousness than to rugged metrical
experiment, and that these lines in Q would naturally seem
INTRODUCTION.
xxi
to him in need of correction. My own view is that even
if Spenser is responsible for one or two of the emendations,
e.g. 'subtile' for 'slye' in Virgils Gnat 536, F carried
the process much too far, and often polished into the
commonplace a really effective line. Anyhow, the general
characteristics of F suggest that its editor gave himself more
liberty than a modern textual critic can allow; and all those
changes in F which are not obvious corrections must be
viewed with some scepticism.
DAPHNAIDA (I 59I).
Daphnaida commemorates the loss of Lady Douglas
Howard, who died in August, i59 % and it is natural to
suppose that it was written soon afterwards. But the dedi-
cation isgiven from London, January I, 1591 , and if we
are to regard this date as old style, by which the year began
in Match, we must put the poem a year later (i. e. I59OE ).
Now Colin Clouts Corne Home 4gaine is dated from Kilcolman,
December, 1591, and it is hardly possible that Spenser was in
Ireland on December OET, and back in London rive days
later. We have therefore to choose between three possibi-
lities : (I) That by I59I Spenser is using the modern style,
adopted by him in The Shepheardes Calender, and defended
at great length by E. K. in his general Argument. Such
a course would be unusual at the time, but it is hot without
precedent, nor would it be unlike Spenser, I think, in
a matter of the kind to follow his own bent. (-"-) That 159 i
is a mistake of the printers for 159 o. If the type were set
up a month or two after the writing of the Dedication (say
in April), there would be nothing unlikely in the printer's
thinking of the present date rather than of the date he ought
to print, and so substituting a I for a o. (3) That the date
of Daphnaida as given is right and is to be interpreted as old
style (i. e. I59OE modern style), but that Colin Clout was hOt
xxii
INTRODUCTION.
really dated from Kilcolman. I Whilst the diflîculty cannot
be set at rest, it is met, in my opinion, more satisfactorily by
one of the two first hypotheses than by the third.
Of Daphnaida there are two Quartos, those of 15 91 and 15 9 6,
to collate with F. I have printed from Q I, as there is no
Mr. Percy Long (New York Nation, Nov. I, I9O6 : 2t'odern Language«
Quarterly, July, 19o9) holds that the dating of 2Dapnaida as I591 is meant
for the old style, and that in dating Golin Glout from Kilcolman fi,re days before
Spenser is playing a ruse by which to conceal his whereabouts and to lead
people to imagine that he was in Ireland, whereas in reality he was in London
ail the rime, enjoying the triumph of his Goraplaints. To me at least, ail
probability is against this view. I. It is at least likely that 2Dapnaida should
ha'e been written and published soon afier the death of Daphne. Against this
Mr. Long argues that in that case it would bave formed a ,rery appropriate
part of the C, omplaints' (1591). But (a)if by Jan. I591 we are to understand
modern style the poem was probably published be./ore Complaints and hot af ter
it, for Coraplaints was only entered at the Stationers' Hall on Dec. 2 9, 159 ° ;
(b) the fact that Daphnaida was hot entered at the Stationers' Hall suggests,
as Grosart pointed out, that it was intended for private circulation, and anyhow
it was natural that a poem, making a special appeal to a private circle of friends,
should be published separately ; (c) Mr. Long bas already in the same article
answered himself by pointing out that the 7omplalnts were chiefly complaints
against Burghley. II. Mr. Long suggests no valid reason why Spenser should
wish to conceal his whereabouts. Nor can we believe that it would be easy
for him to do it. Raleigh and ail those who were interested in Spenser's
poetry would almost certainly bave known if the poet had been in London, and
if they hadn't, it is diflïcult to see how Spenser would bave enjoyed his
triumph' any more than he would have enjoyed it in solitude at Kilcolman.
Moreover if Spenser had really been anxious to conceal his whereabouts and
put his friends off" the scent by so elaborate a trick as the composition of
a misleading dedication to 7olin 71out on Dec. 27, he might surely be allowed
credit for intelligence enough hot to give away his whole case rive days later by
dating Daphnaida from L ondon. I I I. The whole character and tone of Colin
Cdout favours our acceptance of its dedication as bona .ride. This statement
cannot of course be regarded as more than an expression of personal opinion ;
but it is based upon some study of Spenser's life and work as a whole ; and it
will, I believe, be found to be supported by most students of the poet in the
future as ell as in the past.
INTRODUCTION. xxiii
evidence that Q z had the advantage of Spenser's revision ;
but I bave recorded ail but the most trivial divergences of
spdling and punctuation tobe round in Q z. The punctu.
ation of Q OE is rather fuller and more modern than that of
Q I, and in certain places, judged by any standard, more
correct ; but the few verbal variations between them suggest
that the readings of Q are deteriorations and hot authorized
corrections. F makes a few necessary corrections of punctu-
ation, besides a good many that are unnecessary.
COLIN CLOUTS tOME HOME AGAINE (1595).
Colin Clouts Corne Home Hgaine was written after Spenser's
return to Ireland in i59 I, and dedicated to Raleigh (v. p. 308)
in the December of that year. But it is highly probable that
it received some revision and additions before its publication
by Ponsonbie in 595- With Colin Clout was printed
Hstrophell, and certain poems in memory of Sidney which
had been written by other of his friends. There is no means
of dating the composition of Hstrophell, but it is reasonable
to regard it as belonging to the years I59i-5; for had it
been written soon after the death of Sidney it would surely
bave been less entirely conventional in its expression of grief,
and, moreover, would naturally have been published when
the interest in its subject was at its keenest.
Of the Non-Spenserian poems some (pp. 357-67) had
already appeared in a Miscellany entitled The Pheenb¢ Nest
(1593), and I bave collated their text with that of the earlier
version (referred to by me as P.N.), which is as a whole
more correct. Q has several misprints, which will be
round recorded in my footnotes. Most of them were cor-
rected in F, which also modernizes a good many forms.
F's more elaborate punctuation is well illustrated by Colin
Clout, I 8.
AMORETTI AND EPITHALAMION (I 95).
The Hmoretti are commonly supposed to have been written
in I 59 I--4, to celebrate Spenser's courtship of that lady whose
marriage with him is glorified in the Epithalamion. Modern
criticism, however, which has made so damaging an onslaught
upon the sincerity of Elizabethan sonneteers, could hardly be
expected to leave this beautiful sequence unassailed ; and the
view has lately been advanced that the Hmoretti are addressed
for the most part to Lady Carey, and hence were written
during Spenser's residence in London (I589-91). But
whilst it is possible that some few of the series were written
in the first place for Lady Carey or, indeed, for others (for
we know that Spenser often incorporated into his work
unpublished material that he had by him) there seems no
valid reason for suspecting the integrity of the series as a
whole, or the general/y accepted date of their composition.
These poems were first published in i595, in a small
volume variously described by bibliographers as x 8 °, 12 °,
or 8"°. In the dedication to Sir Robert Needham, W. P.
states definitely that he prints the volume in the absence of
the author ; and as Spenser did not reach London till the
This view has been argued with great ability by Mr. P. V. Long in the
ll[odern Language« Re't, ie,w (April I9O8), and answered, to me convincingly,
by Mr. 3. C. Smith in the saine journal (July 191o). I am hOt, indeed, inclined
to concede as much to Mr. Long. For Mr. Smith's diflculties, that too large
a proportion of the sonnets belong to the few months before the marriage, and
that they end on the melancholy note of separation, are hOt, I think, difficuh to
meet. It is hot unlikely that even after the marriage had been arranged the
poet was slandered to the lady's family, and that a temporary severance was
the resuh. Under such circumstances there would be nothing remarkable in
a poet of Spenser's fluency writing a good many sonnets upon the theme, nor in
his forgetting that by so doing he was spoiling the balance of the sonnet sequence.
And when the trouble was over and the marriage hurried on (as Mr. Smith
himself, with great plausibility, suggests), what more natural than to suppose
that Spenser was content to leave his 4moretti ending in the minor key, and
at once set about the composition of his triumphant Epitha!amlon, destined
to be Poblished with them ?
INTRODUCTION. xxv
close of the year it is unlikely that he was able in any way
to supervise it. Its punctuation presents many difficulties,
because the rhythmical punctuatiort characteristic of all the
first editiorts of Spenser's poems is here complicated by so
much carelessness of prirtting that it raises scepticism as to
the importance attaching to its reading in any doubtful pas-
sage. It is obvious that the printer of I8 ° had in his mind
a rigid conception of sonnet structure, with definite metrical
pauses at the end of each line and requiring the following
punctuation , : , . (or :) repeated three times and followed
by the couplet , . He did hot realize that a poet, ac-
cepting, perhaps, this conception as a basis, improvises upon
it, his metrical success being in a great measure due to his
variations from it, always supposing that his variations are
hOt so licentious that we lose all sense of the rigid form of
which his verse is the variation. Out printer, however,
round that the sense of the rtmoretti, even as he understood
it, would hot allow him to keep relentlessly to his rigid con-
ception of punctuation, and accordingly he relaxed it. But
even in this he is capricious. Apart from maay cases it
which he gives , for . and vice versa (as in xv. OE, xxiii. 4,
xxxiv. 2, 3), which we may suppose to be unintentional, he
will sometimes give the rigid metrical pu nctua tion where it
makes nonsense of the passage (e. g. xiii. 5, 6 ; xvii. 6) or
depart from it where the sense requires it (e. g. xiv. 6). F
was evidently in difficulties as to where it should follow 8 °
and where it should emend ; and it makes some attempt, as
with the other poems, to punctuate according to logic rather
than to mette. But the result is a hOt very successful com-
promise ; it bas sometimes altered unnecessarily, and some-
times bas retained punctuations which are impossible alike on
its own principles and on those of 8 °. My principle bas
been the same as in dealing with the other poems. I bave
retained the punctuation of the first edition except (a) where
xxvi
INTRODU(2TIOr.
it is obviously faulty from its own point of view, or (b) where
it would be likely to obscure the sense from the modern
reader. When possible I have emended from F ; but where
F emends , to : or ; I have sometimes preferred to read
a . as being the probable intention of 18 °.
FOWRI H'/MNES (1596).
ff'he Fowre Hymnes, the two first written early and the
latter two of recent composition, appeared in I596. Spenser
dates his dedication from Greenwich, and his presence in
England at the rime of publication accounts in some measure,
perhaps, for the excellent state of the text. It is noticeable
that the punctuation is on the whole freer from diflîculty
than that of the Quartos of other poems, and in particular
that the metrical use of the colon is nowhere round in it.
PROTHALAMION (I 596).
Prothalamion, written in I596 , was printed for W. P. in
the same year. F makes one or two obvious corrections,
and is unusually profuse in commas.
MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS.
The MisceIlaneous Sonnets are printed from copies of the
volumes in which they originally appeared. I. From Foure
Letters, and Certaine Sonnets : Especially touching Robert Greene,
and other parties, by him abused: &c., London. Imprinted by
John Hrolfe, 4to: 15"9 2.
II. From Nennio, Or a ff'reatise of Nobility &c. H/'ritten in
Italian by that famous Doctor and worthy Knight, Sir John
Baptista Nenna of Bari. Done into English by t¢Zilliam Jones,
Gent., Q.
III. From Historie of George Castriot, surnamed Scanderbeg,
King of .4lbanie and Conmining his famous actes, &c. Newly trans-
lated out of French into English by Z. L, Gentleman. lmprinted
for H . Ponsonby, t5.96. F.
INTRODUCTION.
xxvii
IV. From The Commonwealth and Government of Venice.
lritten by the Cardina# Gasper Contareno, and translated out of the
Italian into English by Lewis Lewkenor, Esquire. London.
Imprinted by Yohn H/'indet for Edmund Mattes, &c. tY99.
THEATRE FOR WORLDLINGS (I569).
The poems printed in Ippendix I are reprinted from the
ff'heatrefor ttorldlings, of which the title-page and illustrations
are reproduced in facsimile. The Epigrams will be round
to correspond, but with considêrable variations of text, with
the first six of" the Fisions of Petrarch, spoken of on their
publication in Complaints as 'formerly translated'. For the
seventh sonnet of" Complaints is there substituted a quatrain.
With the Sonets that follow, a blank verse rendering of the
Fisions of Bellay, these poems represent the earliest work of
Spenser's that bas corne down to us, and must belong to his
schooldays. It is truc that Van der Noodt never suggested
that Spenser was their author, and that the poet himself
never claimed them; but when he speaks of them in 59
as «formerly translated' he can hardly mean formerly trans-
lated by some one hOt himself, and the similarity of the two
versions is conclusive evidence that the one is dependent on
the other?
i Professor Koeppel, however, points out (Engli«be Studien, xv. 69) that the
first version is more faithful and scholarly, though less poetic, than that of 59,
which hot only fails to correct the errors of x 569, but in places departs from
the meaning of the original where the earlier version bas rendered it with
accuracy. He concludes, therefore, that we can only suppose that the two
versions were written by the saine man if the second was written first (whlch is
impossible). I adroit Professor Koeppel's facts but dissent from his conclusion.
Spenser's greater freedom in the later version, even where it has the appearance
of mlstranslation, is easily explained as deliberate rather than unconscious, due
partly to the exigencles of rime, but chiefly to an independence natural to mature
poetic genius, and to the formation of a highly individual rhythmic principle
and sense of style.
xxviii INTRODUCTION.
A short history of the text of Spenser since the publication
of F will be found in .4ppendix II.
The number of faults that I have detected in earlier
editions of Spenser has impressed me with the difficulty of
securing an accurate text. Like many former editors, I have
found it easier, as well as more entertaining, to correct the
errors of others than to detect my own; and if this volume
represents what Spenser wrote more faithfully than its pre-
decessors, the merit is due in part to the interest taken in my
work by the staffof the Clarendon Press and to the care and
technical skill with which they bave produced it, and in part
to the generous help which several distinguished scholars
of English have accorded me in its preparation. To Miss
Darbishire, of Somerville College, I am indebted for much
assistance in the collation of the several texts and for checking
my results, in particular the complicated textual notes to the
Shepheardes Calender. Mr. J. C. Smith has read my proofs,
and in the discussion of many difficult passages has given me
the benefit of his special knowledge of the text of Spenser.
Mr. W. W. Greg, Mr. P. Simpson, and Dr. Henry Bradley
have made valuable suggestions, and helped me to decide
upo,1 doubtful points of reading, spelling, and punctuation.
If I have hOt always been able to follow their advice it has
been because I have found that at times the views of the
best Elizabethan scholars are conflicting, and I have there-
fore been obliged in the end to rely upon my own judgemelt.
For any errors that may be found in the volume I am
alone responsible.
I desire to express my thanks to Mr. Alfred Huth,
Mr. T. H. Wise, and Mr. Herbert Butler, for their courtesy
in allowing me to examine copies of Spenser in their private
libraries.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION
LIST OF EDITIONS ETC» OF SPENSER
SHEPHEARDES CALENDER
PAGE
V
xxxii
COMPLAINTS . 12 3
TIE RVlNES OF TIME . . I26
TIE TEARES Or THE MVSES II
VIRGILS GNAT 172.
PROSOPOPOIA: OR MOTHER HVDS TE I95
Rvs or ROM: v Bv .
MVIOVOTOS: o Tu FT Or TU BVTTRVI
VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE 268
Tn Vsios or Bv . 274
THE VISIONS OF PETRCH 282
DAPHNAIDA. AN ELEOIE VPON TUE DEATH OF
THE NOBLE AND VERTVOVS DOVGLA$ HOWARD
287
xxx CONTENTS.
PAGE
COLIN CLOVTS COME HOME AGAIN 307
COLXN CLov'rs COME HOME AAXN 3O9
ASTROPHEL. A PASTORALL ELEGIE VPON TflE
DEATH OF THE MOST NOBLE AND VALOROVS
KNIGHT, SIR PHILIP SIDEY 335
THE LAY OF CLORIND 345
THE MOVRNNG MVSE OF THES'rYLS 347
A PASTORALL AEGLOGVE VPON THE DEATH OF
SIR PHILLIP SIDNEY KNIGHT, ETC. 35
AN ELEGIE» OR FRIENDS PASSION FOR HIS AS-
TROPHILL 357
AN EPlTAPH VPON THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE
SIR PHILLIP SIDNEY KNIGHT LORD GOVERNOR
OF FLVSHING 364
ANO'rHER OF "rHE SAME 366
AMORETTI AND EPITHALAMION
AMORETTI
EPITHALAMION
FOWRE HYMNES
AN HYMNE IN HONOVR OF LovE
AN HYMNE IN HONOVR or BEAVTIE
AN HYMNE OF HEAVENLY LOVE
AN HYMNE OF HEAVENL BEAVTIE .
369
37 z
435
437
446
455
464
PROTHALAMION; OR A SPOVSALL VERSE . 473
CONTENTS.
xxxi
PAGE
MISCELLANEOVS SONNETS.
To THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL MY SINGVLAR GOOD
FREND M. GABRIELL HARVEY 480
PREFIXED TO Nennio, or ,4 l-reatise of Nobility, OEc. 48o
UPON THE HISTORIE OF GEORGE CASTRIOT, ALIAS
SCANDERBEG 4 8 I
PREFIXED TO THE COMMONWEALTH AND GOVERN-
MENT OF VENICE . 482
APPEND1X.
I. EPIGRAMS AND SONNET$ 483
METRICAL EXPERIMENT$ . 5(95
II. ON Trie TEXT OF SPrNSER FROM 6 7 TO 884
NOTES
5II
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 5OE4
SIGLA.
A Li«t of edition« 'c. of $pemer comulted in the preparatlon of thi« te«t,
vith the abbreiation« by vhich they are refirred to in the Introduction and Note«.
The 8hepheardes Calender. 1579 [Bodleian copyA" 4 ° F. 2.
.. . s.I.
The 8hepheardes Calender. 158. Q .
The Shepheardes Calender. 586. Q3
The Shepheards Calender. 1591. Q 4
The Shepheards Calendar. 1597- Q 5
Complaints. 159 [Bodleian copy,'l" Malone 6 7J- Q
Huth copy ttuth Q
(Other copies consulted--those in the British Museum and the
Rylands Library, Manchester, the Capell and Wright copies,
Trinity College, Cambridge, and those in the private libraries
of T. H. Wise, Esq., and H. Butler, Esq.)
Harleian MS. 69IO (British Museum). I596. Harl. dlS.
MS. of Mother Hubberd's Talc referred to by Dr. Grosart. G. 2118.
Daphnaida. 1591 [Brit. Mus.'l" G. I1538 ], QI
Daphnaida. 1596. Q a
Colin Clouts Corne Home Again, &c. 595 [Bodleian copy,'l"
Malone 618]. Q
The Phoenix Nest. 1593. P.N.
Amoretti and Epithalamion. 1595 [Bodleian copy,'l" Malone 346]. 18o
Fowre Hymnes. 1596 [Bodleian copyA" Malone 617]" Q
Prothalamion. 1596 [Bodleian copy,'t Malone 6 7]- Q
Foure Letters, and Certaine 8onnets, &c. 1592 [Bodleian copy,'"
Tanner 744]-
Nennio, Or a Treatise of Nobility, &c. 1595 [Brit. Mus.'
84o 7. d. 13].
Historie of George Castriot, &c. 1596 [Bodleian copy,-" A.A. 37
Art. 8eld.]. U96
The Commonwealth and Government of Venice, &c. 1599
[Bodleian copy,'l" Radcl. e. 9]- U99
A Theatre of Worldlings, &c. 1569 [Bodleian copy,'l" Douce
N. 36].
The Faerie Queen: Tbe Shepheards Calendar: Together with the
other Works of England's Arch-Poët Edm. Spenser. 6 1. F
The Works of Spenser. 1617. F2
The Shepheards Calendar &c., with Latin translation. I653.
The Works of Spenser. 1679. F 3
The Works of 8penser, ed. by Hughes, 6 vols., 17 5- Hughe«
The Works of 8Ienser , ed. by H. J. Todd, 8 vols., 18o 5. 2"odd
The Works of Spenser, ed. by F. J. Child, 5 vols., 1855. Child
The Works of Spenser, ed. by J. P. Collier, 5 vols., 1862. Collier
The Works of Spenser, ed. by R. Morris, Globe ed., I vol., 1869. dlorri«
The Works of Spenser, ed. by A. B. Grosart, 8 vols., 882-4. Gro«art
The Poetical Works of 8penser, ed. by R. E. Neil Dodge, , vol. x 908. Dodge
These books are more fully described in the Introduction and Appendix IL The
sign af indicates the copies from which my text has been printed.
Shepheardes Calender
Conteyning tvvelue Aglogues proportionable
to tt)e telue monete..
l'ntitled
TO THE NOBLE AND VERTV-
ous 6"entleman mok7 voorthy of all titles
both of learning and cheualrie M.
Philip Sidney.
('.')
AT LONDON.
rinted by Hugh Sngleton, dwelling in
Creede Lane neere vnto Ludgate at the
liffn of tÇ gIn unn,an
are there to be folde.
xç79.
TO HIS BOOKE.
Goe little booke : thy selfe present,
Afs child whose parent is vnkent:
ff'o him that is the president
Of noblesse and of cheualree,
Afnd if that Enuie bar& at thee,
Afs sure it will, for su«coure flee
l/'nder the shadow of his wing,
/lnd asked, who thee forth did bring,
.4 shepheards swaine saye did thee sing,
,4ll as his straying flocke he fedde :
,4nd when his honor has thee redde,
Craue pardon for my hardyhedde.
But if that any aske thy naine,
Say thou wert base begot with blame :
For thy thereof thou takest shame.
,4nd when thou art past ieopardee,
Corne tell me, what was sayd of mee :
Afnd I will send more after thee.
[mmerit&
Io
4 Of noblesse and of cteualree, Qq I, 2 : Of noblenes« and of cteualree : Qq
3, 4 : of noblenesse and cbiualrie. Q 5, F I x bac Qq -4 : bath Q 5, F
1 2 my Qq I--: ly F I 5 For ty Qq I-4: For y Q , F
7o the most excellent and learned aoth
rto nl ottt, att @abitll fluorure,
verie special nd singular good t'rend E. K. commen-
deth the good lyking of this his lbour,
nd the patronage of the
new Poete.
NCOVTHE VNKISTE, Sayde the olde
famous Poete Chaucer: whom for his
excellencie and wonderfull skil in making,
his scholler Lidgate, a worthy scholler of m
so excellent a maister, calleth the Loade-
starre of our Language: and whom our
iColin clout in his ]Eglogue calleth Tityrus
the God of shepheards, comparing hym
to the worthines of the Roman Tityrus Virgile. Which
prouerbe, myne owne good friend Ma. Haruey, as in that
good old Poete it serued wdl Pandares purpose, for the
bolstering of his baudy brocage, so very well taketh place in
this our new Poete, who for that he is vncouthe (as said
Chaucer) is vnkist, and vnknown to most men, is regarded 2o
but of few. But I dout not, so soone as his name shall
corne into the knowledg of men, and his worthines be
sounded in the tromp of fame, but that he shall be not onely
kiste, but also beloued of ail, embraced of the most, and
wondred at of the best. No fesse I thinke, deserueth his
wittinesse in deuising, his pithinesse in vttering, his com-
plaints of loue so louely, his discourses of pleasure so
pleasantly, his pastorall rudenesse, his morall wisenesse, his
dewe obser.uing of Decorum euerye where, in personages,
in seasons, n matter, in speach, and generally in al seemely 3o
simplycitie of handeling his matter, and framing his words:
4 labour Qq ,, 2: good labour Qq 3-5, F 3, 5 Tityrus Qq *-4:
Tyfirus, ïïtiru, Q )" : Tytirus, Tytiru, F 17 Pandare, Qq I- 4 : Pindare,
Q 5: Pindaru« F 2, of few Qq I-4 : of a few Q ', F 3o matter
Q9 I-4: matters Q )', F
B_o.
4
EPISTLE.
the which of many thinges which in him be straunge, I know
will seeme the straungest, the words them selues being so
auncient, the knitting of them so short and intricate, and
the whole Periode and compasse of speache so delightsome
for the roundnesse, and so graue for the straungenesse.
And firste of the wordes to speake, I graunt they be some-
thing hard, and of most men vnused, yet both English, and
also vsed of most excellent Authors and most famous
4o Poetes. In whom whenas this out Poet hath bene much
traueiled and throughly redd, how could it be, (as that
worthy Oratour sayde) but that walking in the sonne
although for other cause he walked, yet needes he mought
be sunburnt; and hauing the sound of those auncient Poetes
still ringing in his eares, he mought needes in singing hit
out some of theyr tunes. But whether he vseth them by
such casualtye and custome, or of set purpose and choyse, as
thinking them fittest for such rusticall rudenesse of" shep-
heards, eyther for that theyr rough sounde would make his
5o rymes more ragged and rustical, or els because such olde
and obso|ete wordes are most vsed of country folke, sure
I think, and think I think hot amisse, that they bring great
grace and, as one would say, auctoritie to the verse. For
a|be amongst many other faultes it specially be obiected
of Valla against Liuie, and of other against Saluste, that
with ouer much studie they aff'ect antiquitie, as coueting
thereby credence and honor of elder yeeres, yet I ara of
opinion, and eke the best learned are of the lyke, that those
auncient solemne wordes are a great ornament both in the one
6o and in the other ; the one labouring to set forth in hys worke
an eternall image of antiquitie, and the other carefully dis-
coursing matters of grauitie and importaunce. For if my
memory fayle not, Tullie in that booke, wherein he en-
deuoureth to set forth the paterne of a perfect Oratour,
sayth that ofttimes an auncient worde maketh the style
seeme graue, and as it were reuerend: no otherwise then
we honour and reuerence gray heares for a certein religious
regard, which we haue of old age. Yet nether euery where
43 mought Qq 1-)-: must F 56 coueting Qq 1- 4 : couering Q)', F
63 memory Q z-5: opinion F
EPISTLE.
must old words be stuffed in, nor the commen Dialecte and
maner of speaking so corrupted therby, that as in old buildings 7o
it seme disorderly and ruinous. But all as in most exquisite
pictures they vse to blaze and portraict not onely the daintie
lineaments of beautye, but also rounde about it to shadow
the rude thickets and craggy clifts, that by the basenesse of
such parts, more excellency may accrew to the principall;
for oftimes we fynde ourselues, I knowe hOt how, singularly
delighted with the shewe of such naturall rudenesse, and take
great pleasure in that disorderly order. Euen so doe those
rough and harsh termes enlumine and make more clearly to
appeare the brightnesse of braue and glorious words. So o
oftentimes a dischorde ira Musick maketh a comely concord-
aunce: so great delight tooke the worthy Poete Alceus
to behold a blemish in the ioynt of a wel shaped body. But
if any will rashly blame such his purpose in choyse of old
and vnwonted words, him may I more iustly blame and
condemne, or of witlesse headinesse in iudging, or of heede-
lesse hardinesse in condemning for hOt marking the compasse
of hys bent, he wil iudge of the length of his cast. For ira
my opinion it is one special prayse, of many whych are dew
to this Poete, that he hath laboured to restore, as to theyr 90
rightfull heritage such good and naturall English words, as
haue ben long rime out of vse and almost deane disherited.
Which is the onely cause, that our Mother tonge, which
truely of it self is both fui enough for prose and stately
enough for verse, hath long time ben counted most bare and
barrein of both. Which default when as some endeuoured
to salue and recure, they patched vp the holes with peces
and rags of other languages, borrowing here of the french,
there of the Italian, euery where of the Latine, not
weighing how il, those tongues accorde with themselues, but xoo
much worse with ours: So now they haue made our English
tongue, a gallimaufray or hodgepodge of al other speches.
Other some not so wel seene in the English tonge as perhaps
73 of Qq 1- 3 : or Qq 4, .f, F 76 oftimes OE : oftentimes Qq -.f, F
8x oftentimes fq -5", F: ofentimes OE 86 or Qq I-5": either F 9
cleane Qq i-.f, F: cleare Q I: clean Q I O0 il, Qq -4: iii Q 5", #"
IO 3 hOt . . . seene q3-5, F: no . . . seine OEq I, 2
6 EPISTLE.
in other languages, if they happen to here an olde word
albeit very naturall and significant, crye out streight way»
that we speak no English, but gibbrish, or rather such,
as in old time Euanders mother spake. Whose first shame
is» that they are hOt ashamed, in their own mother tonge
straungers to be counted and alienes. The second shame
o no lesse then the first, that what so they vnderstand hOt,
they streight way deeme to be sencelesse» and not at al to be
vnderstode. Much like to the Mole in ]Esopes fable, that
being blynd ber selle, would in no wise be perswaded, that
any beast could see. The last more shameful then both, that
of their owne country and natural speach, which together
with their Nources milk they sucked, they haue so base
regard and bastard iudgement, that they will hot onely
themselues hot labor to garnish and beautifie it, but also
repine, that of other it shold be embellished. Like to the
120 dogge in the maunger, that him selfe can eate no hay, and
yet barketh at the hungry bullock, that so faine would
feede : whose currish kind though it cannot be kept from
barking, yet I conne them thanke that they refrain from
byting.
Now for the knitting of sentences, whych they call the
ioynts and members therof, and for al the compasse of the
speach, itis round without roughnesse, and learned wyth-
out hardnes, such indeede as may be perceiued of the leaste,
vnderstoode of the moste, but iudged onely of the learned.
3o For what in most English wryters vseth tobe loose, and as
it were vngyrt, in this Authour is well grounded, finely
framed, and strongly trussed vp together. In regard wherof,
I scorne and spue out the rakehellye route of our ragged
rymers (for so themselues vse to hunt the letter) which
without learning boste, without iudgement iangle, without
reason rage and fome, as if some instinct of Poeticall spirite
had newly rauished them aboue the meanenesse of commen
capacitie. And being in the middest of all theyr brauery,
sodenly eyther for want of marrer, or of ryme, or hauing for-
o 9 straungers to be counted Qq z-4: to bee counted strangers Q j-, F
7 F orait« regard 2 2 though it cannot (.Qq 3-.J'. F: though cannot
(,dq I, 2 13' ,'ng),rt Q I : vnright (dq 2-J', F
EPISTLE. 7
gotten theyr former conceipt, they seeme tobe so pained 4o
and traueiled in theyr remembrance, as it were a woman in
clfildebirth or as that same Pythia, when the traunce came
vpon ber.
Os rabidum fera corda domans &c.
Nethelesse let them a Gods name feede on theyr owne
folly, so thev seeke not to darken the beames of others
glory. As for Colin, vnder whose person the Author selfe
is shadowed, how furre he is from such vaunted titles and
glorious showes, both him selfe sheweth, where he sayth.
Of Muses Hobbin. I conne no skill. And,
Eough is me to paint out my vnrest, &c.
And also appeareth by the basenesse of the name, wherein,
it semeth, he chose rather to vnfold great marrer of argument
couertly, then professing it, not suffice thereto accordingly.
Which moued him rather in .Eglogues, then other wise
to write, doubting perhaps his habilitie, which he little
needed, or mynding to furnish our tongue with this kinde,
wherein it faulteth, or following the example of the best and
most auncient Poetes, which deuised this kind of wryting,
being both so base for the marrer, and homely for the manner, 6o
at the first to trye theyr habilities: and as young birdes,
that be newly crept out of the nest, by little first to proue
theyr tender wyngs, before they make a greater flyght. So
flew Theocritus, as you may perceiue he was all ready full
fledged. So flew Virgile, as hOt yet well feeling his winges.
So flew Mantuane, as being not full somd. So Petrarque.
So Boccace; So Marot, Sanazarus, and also diuers other
excellent both Italian and French Poetes, whose foting this
Author euery where followeth, yet so as few, but they be
wel sented can trace him out. So finally flyeth this our new
Poete, as a bird, whose principals be scarce growen out,
but yet as that in time shall be hable to keepe wing with
the best.
44 corda Q9 I, 2, F: cordd Q3: cordam Qq 4, 5. x47 Authour
Qq ,', 2 : Authors Qq 3-5", F I 5o Hobbin. Qq I, 2 : Hobbin, Qq 3-5",
6 habilifies: Qq3-5", F: habilities ? Qq I, 2 and as Qq I-5": like
as /' 162 little first to proue Qq 1- 4 : little first proue Q 5": little and
little first prooue F 72 yet as that Q9 1, 2 : yet as one that Q9 1-5", F
8 EPISTLE.
Now as touching the generall dryft and purpose of his
ASglogues, I mind hOt to say much, him selle labouring to
conceale it. Onely this appeareth, that his vnstayed yougth
had long wandred in the common Labyrinth of Loue,
in which time to mitigate and allay the heate of his passion,
or els to warne (as he sayth) the young shepheards .s. his
equalls and companions of his vnfortunate folly, he compiled
18o these xii. ASglogues, which for that they be proportioned
to the state of the xii. monethes, he termeth the SHEP-
HEARDS CALENDAR, applying an olde name to a new
worke. Hereunto haue I added a certain Glosse or scholion
for thexposition ofold wordes and harder phrases: which
maner of glosing and commenting, well I wote, wil seeme
straunge and rare in our tongue: yet for somuch as I knew
many excellent and proper deuises both in wordes and matter
would passe in the speedy course of reading, either as vn-
knowen, or as hOt marked, and that in this kind, as in other
,9o we might be equal to the learned of other nations, I thought
good to take the paines vpon me, the rather for that by
meanes of some familiar acquaintaunce I was made priuie to
his counsell and secret meaning in them, as also in sundry
other works of his. Which albeit I know he nothing so much
hateth, as to promulgate, yet thus much haue I aduentured
vpon his frendship, him selle being for long rime furre
estraunged, hoping that this will the rather occasion him, to
put forth diuers other excellent works of his, which slepe in
silence, as his Dreames, his Legendes, his Court of Cupide,
200 and sondry others; whose commendations to set out, were
verye vayne; the thinges though worthy of many, yet being
knowen to few. These my present paynes if to any they
be pleasurable or profitable, be you iudge, mine own good
Maister Haruey, to whom I haue both in respect of your
worthinesse generally, and otherwyse vpon some particular
and special considerations voued this my labour, and the
maydenhead of this our commen frends Poetrie, himselfe
hauing already in the beginning dedicated it to the Noble
I 82 termeth Qq I, 2 : termeth it Qq 3-5, F 183 applying Qq i-4, F:
as plying Q 5 204 good Maister Haruey Q : good M. Haruey Qç 2- 4 :
maister Haruey Q 5, F
EPISTLE. 9
and worthy Gentleman, the right worshipfull Ma. Phi. 21o
Sidney, a special fauourer and maintainer of ail kind of
learning. Whose cause I .pray you Sir, yf Enuie shall stur
vp any wrongful accusaslon, defend with your mighty
Rhetorick and other your rare gifts of learning, as you can,
and shield with your good wil» as you ought, against the
malice and outrage of so many enemies, as I know wilbe set
on tire with the sparks of his kindled glory. And thus
recommending the Author vnto you, as vnto his most special
goodfrend, and my selle vnto you both, as one makingsinguler
account of two so very good and so choise frends, I bid you 220
both most hartely farwel, and commit you and your most
commendable studies to the tuicion of the greatest.
Uour owne assuredly to
be commaunded E. K.
PoM $cr
'Ow I trust M. Haruey, that vpon sight of" your speciall
l'rends and fellow Poets doings, or els for enuie of" so
man)r vnworthy Q.qidams, which catch at the garlond, which
to ),ou alone is dewe, ),ou will be perswaded to pluck out ofthe
hateful darknesse, those so man), excellent English poemes of 230
),ours, which lye hid, and bring them forth to eternall light.
Trust me ),ou doe both them great wrong, in depriuing
them of the desired sonne, and also your selfe, in smoothering
your deserued prayses, and all men generally, in withhold-
ing from them so diuine pleasures, which the)r might conceiue
of your gallant English verses, as they haue already doen of"
your Latine Poemes, which in my opinion both for inuen-
tion and Elocution are very delicate, and superexcellent.
And thus againe, I take my leaue of my good NIayster
Haruey. From my lodging at London thys IO. of Aprill. 24o
I579.
2I 4 rare Qq 1- 4 : rath Q)', F 232 F omltt both 240 thys IO
Qq 1- 4 : the tenth Q)-, F
Tte general! argument of
lttle 1 hope, needeth me at large to discourse
the first Originall of ]Eglogues, hauing alreadie
touched the same. But for the word ./Eglogues
I know is waknowen to most, and also mistaken
of some the best learned (as they think) I wyll
say somewhat thereof, being not at ail im-
pertinent to my present purpose.
,o They were first of the Greekes the inuentours of them
called Eglogaj as it were a,ov or aiTov@ov. .67o'. that is
Goteheards tales. For although in Virgile and others the
speakers be more shepheards, then Goteheards, yet Theo-
critus in whom is more ground of authoritie, then in Virgile,
this specially from that deriuing, as from the first head and
welspring the whole Inuention ofhis ./Eglogues, maketh Gote-
heards the persons and authors of his tales. This being,
who seeth not the grossenesse ofsuch as by colour oflearning
would make vs beleeue that they are more rightly termed
ao Eclogai, as they would say, extraordinary discourses of vn-
necessarie matter, which difinition albe in substaunce and
meaning it agree with the nature of the thing, yet no whit
answereth with the dvdXv«, and interpretation of the word.
For they be hot termed Eclogues, but ./Eglogues. Which
sentence this authour very well obseruing, vpon good
iudgement, though indeede few Goteheards haue to doe
herein, nethelesse doubteth hot to cal them by the vsed and
best knowen name. Other curious discourses hereof I re-
serue to greater occasion. These xii. ]Eclogues euery where
3o answering to the seasons of the twelue monthes may be well
,, JEglogaj Qq ,,, a : JEglogas ¢.Qq .t-5, F «'g-lov, c. Q. ,, atone g;«,
Grec1 ctSaracters for Grec1 vords tbrougbout tbe "oolume. ai7ovdpwr Q I:
Aeginomon Qq a-.f, F 13 more 8hepherds, then Goatheards Q .f, F:
most shepheards, and Goteheards Qq z- 4 16 inuention Q9 a-.f, F: in-
uericion (.Q i his Qq*-4: these Q.f, F 24 Eclogues, but ASglogues
Q9 z-3 : Eclogoe, Aeglogues Q9 4, 5, F a 7 nethelesse Qq z, a : neuer-
thelesse Q.q j-.f, F
ARGVMENT.
deuided into three formes or ranckes. For eyther they be
Plaintiue, as the first, the sixt, the eleuenth, and the twelfth,
or recreatiue, such as al those be, which conceiue matter of
loue, or commendation of special personages, or Moral:
which for the most part be mixed with some Satyrical bitter-
nesse, namely the second of reuerence dewe to old age, the
fift of coloured deceipt, the seuenth and ninth of dissolute
shepheards and pastours, the tenth of contempt of Poetrie
and pleasaunt wits. And to this diuision may euery thing
herein be reasonably applyed.- A few onely except, whose 4o
speciall purpose and meaning I am not priuie to. And thus
much generally of these xij./Eclogues. Now will we speake
particularly of all, and first of the first. Which he calleth by
the first monethes name lanuarie: wherein to some he may
seeme fowly to haue faulted, in that he erroniously be-
ginneth with that moneth, which beginneth not the yeare.
For it .is wel known, and stoutely mainteyned with stronge
reasons ofthe learned, that the yeare beginneth in March. For
then the sonne reneweth his finished course, and the season-
able spring refresheth the earth, and the plesaunce thereofo
being buried in the sadnesse of the dead winter now worne
away, reliueth. This opinion maynteine the olde Astrologers
and Philosophers, namely the reuerend Andalo, and
Macrobius in his holydayes of Saturne, which accoumpt also
was generally obserued both of Grecians and Romans. But
sauing the leaue of such learned heads, we mayntaine a
custome of coumpting the seasons from the moneth
Ianuary, vpon a more speciall cause, then the heathen
Philosophers euer coulde conceiue, that is, for the incarnation
of our mighty Sauiour and eternall redeemer the L. Christ, 6o
who as then renewing the state of the decayed world, and re-
turning the compasse of expired yeres to theyr former date
and first commencement, left to vs his heires a memoriall
of his birth in the ende of the last yeere and beginning of
the next. Which reckoning, beside that eternall monument
of our saluation, leaneth also vppon good proofe of special
33 conceiue Q¢ , . : conteine Q¢ 3, 4 : containe Q f, F 54 accoumpt
Q : account Q¢ z-f, F 57 coumpting Q : counting Q¢ z-f, F
6o L. Christ Q : Lorde Christe Q¢ a-y, F
ARGVMENT.
iudgement. For albeit that in elder rimes, when as yet the
coumpt of the yere was hot perfected, as afterwarde it was by
lulius Cesar, they began to tel the monethes from Marches
70 beginning, and according to the same God (as is sayd in
Scripture) comaunded the people of the Iewes to count the
moneth Abib, that which we call March, for the first moneth,
in remembraunce that in that moneth he brought them out
of the land of/Egipt : yet according to tradition of latter
times it hath bene otherwise obserued, both in gouernment
of the church, and rule of Mightiest Realmes. For from
Iulius Cesar who first obserued the leape yeere which he
called Bissextilem Annum, and brought in to a more certain
course the odde wandring dayes which of the Greekes were
8o called brpfla[vovr«. Of the Romanes intercalares (for in such
marrer of learning 1 am forced to vse the termes of the
learned) the monethes haue bene nombred xij. which in the
first ordinaunce of Romulus were but tenne, counting but
CCCiiij. dayes in euery yeare, and beginning with March.
But Numa Pompilius, who was the father of al the Romain
ceremonies and religion, seeing that reckoning to agree
neither with the course of the sonne, nor of the Moone, there-
vnto added two monethes, Ianuary and February : wherin it
seemeth, that wise king minded vpon good reason to begin
90 the yeare at Ianuarie, of him therefore so called tanquam
Ianua anni the gate and entraunce of the yere, or of the
naine of the god Ianus, to which god for that the old
Paynims attributed the byrth and beginning of ail creatures
new comming into the worlde, it seemeth that he therfore
to him assigned the beginning and first entraunce of the
yeare. Which account for the most part hath hetherto con-
tinued. Notwithstanding that the .,Egiptians beginne theyr
yeare at September, for that according to the opinion of the
best Rabbins, and very purpose of the scripture selfe, God
oo made the worlde in that Moneth, that is called of them Tisri.
And therefore he commaunded them, to keepe the feast of
Pauilions in the end of the yeare, in the xv. day of the
seuenth moneth, which before that time was the first.
68 coumpt Qq 1- 4 : count Q y, F
selle Qq i, 2: it selle Qq 3-f, F
72 Abib F: Abil Qq z-¢ 99
ARGVMENT. 3
But out Authour respecting nether the subti]te of" thone
parte, nor the antiquitie of thother, thinketh it fittest
according to the simplicitie of commen vnderstanding, to
begin with Ianuarie, wening it perhaps no decorum, that
Shepheard should be seene in marrer of so deepe insight, or
canuase a case of so doubtful iudgment. So therefore be-
ginneth he, and so continueth he throughout.
Io4- 5 thone . . . thother Q i: the one.., the other Qq 2,-5, F Io8
8hepheard Q z : 8epheard Q I: shepheards Qq 3-.,¢, F
IIO
14 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Aïgloga prima.
ARGVMENT.
N ttis rst Eglogue Colin cloute
fy a
Iof his ortunate loue, eing ut nely
t omla ntt
latte calltd Rosalinde:
comartt carull «att to
to tt froten trett, and to
m«e roUed all #rmtr
eecet, and caaet m te to te ground.
COLIN CLOVTE.
Shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
when XÇinters wasfful spight was almost spent,
1
Led forth his flock, that had bene long ypent.
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the roide,
That now vnnethes their feete could them
[vphold.
as the Sheepe, such was the shepeheards looke,
For pe and wanne he was, (as the while,)
$eemet Q ff, F 6 lighu Q I : delht Qq 2--, F
IANVARYE.
I5
Ma), seeme he lord, or els some care he tooke :
Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his stile, lO
Tho to a bill his faynting flocke he ledde,
And thus him playnd, the while his shepe there fedde.
Ye Gods of loue, that pitie louers payne,
(If an), gods the pairie of louers pitie':)
Looke from aboue, where you in ioyes remaine,
And bowe your eares vnto my dolefull dittie.
And Pan thou shepheards God, that once didst loue,
Pitie the paines, that thou thy selfe didst proue.
Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,
Art ruade a myrrhour, to behold my plight: 2o
Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted
Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.
And now is corne thy wynters stormy state,
Thy mantle mard, wherein thou maskedst late.
Such rage as winters, reigneth in my heart,
My life bloud friesing with vnkindly cold:
Such stormy stoures do breede my balefull smart,
As if my yeare were wast, and woxen old.
And yet alas, but now my spring begonne,
And yet alas, yt is already donne. 3o
You naked trees, whose shady leaues are lost,
Wherein the byrds were wont to build their bowre :
And now are clothd with mosse and hoaiT frost,
Instede of bloosmes, wherwith your buds did flowre:
I see your teares, that from your boughes doe raine,
Whose drops in dreiT ysicles remaine.
Ail so my lustfull leafe is dite and sere,
My timely buds with wayling ail are wasted :
The blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,
With breathed sighes is blowne away, and blasted 40
And from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,
As on your boughes the ysicles depend.
17 didst Qq 1-4 : did Q)-, F 27 stoures Qq l- 3, F: stourdes Qq ¢, f
28 yeare QqI-¢: yeares Q 2", F 29, 3o yet alas, QI-4: yet, alas, Qf,F
34 bloosmes I: blosomes 2: blossomes Q3-Y, F 37 &Il so
Qq z- 3 : Also Qq 4, 5, F
6 THE SHEPHEARDE5
Thou feeble flocke, whose fleece is rough and rent,
Whose knees are weake through fast and euill rare:
Mayst witnesse well by thy ill gouernement,
Thy maysters mind is ouercome with care.
Thou weake, I wanne : thou leane, I quite forlorne :
With mourning pyne I, you with pyning mourne.
A thousand sithes I curse that carefull hower,
Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see : 50
And eke tenne thousand sithes I blesse the stoure,
Wherein I sawe so fayre a sight, as shee.
Yet all for naught : such sight hath bred my bane.
Ah God, that loue should breede both ioy and payne.
It is hOt Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine,
Albee my loue he seeke with dayly suit :
His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,
His kiddes, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.
Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne :
Colin them giues to Rosalind againe. 60
I loue thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue ?)
And ara forlorne, (alas why ara I lorne ?)
Shee deignes not my good will, but doth reproue,
And of my ruraII musick holdeth scorne.
Shepheards deuise she hateth as the shake,
And laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.
Wherefore my pype, albee rude Pan thou please,
Yet for thou pleasest hOt, where most I would:
And thou vnlucky Muse, that wontst to ease
My musing mynd, yet canst hOt, when thou should: 7o
Both pype and Muse, shall sore the while abye.
So broke his oaten pype, and downe dyd lye.
By that, the welked Pheebus gan availe,
His weary waine, and nowe the frosty Night
Her mantle black through heauen gan ouerhaile.
Which seene, the pensife boy halfe in despight
49, 5 sithes Qç ,r- 3, F: ighes Qç 4,)"
hower. Q i
49 hower, Qq -j', F:
IANVARIE. i 7
Arose, and homeward droue his sonned sheepe,
Whose hanging heads did seeme his carefull case to weepe.
Colins Embleme.
lnchdra speme.
8o
GLOSSE.
COLIN CLOVTE) is a naine not greatl), vsed, and yet haue I sene a Poesie
of IV[. Skeltons vnder that title. But indeede the word Colin is Frenche,
and vsed of the French Poete Marot (if he be worthy of the naine of
a Poete)in a certein Eglogue. Vnder which naine this Poete secretly
shadoweth himself, as sometime did Virgil vnder the naine of Tityrus,
thinking it much fitter, then such Latine names, for the great vnlikelyhoode
of the language.
vnnethes) scarcel)'.
couthe) commeth of the verbe Conne, that is, to know or to haue ski/l. As 90
well interpreteth the saine the worthy Sir Tho. Smitth in his booke of
gouerment: wherof I haue a perfect copie in wryting, lent me by his
kinseman, and my verye singular good freend, M. Gabriel Haruey : as also
of some other his most graue and excellent wrytings.
Sythe) time. Neighbour towne)e next towne: expressing the Latine
Vicina.
8toute) a fitt. Sere) withered.
His clownish gyfts) imitateth Virgils verse,
Rusticus es Corydon, nec munera curat Alexi$.
Hobbinol) is a fained countr), naine, whereby, it being so commune and vsuall, IOO
seemeth to be hidden the person of some his very speciall and most fami/iar
freend, whom he entirely and extraordinarily beloued, as peraduemure shall
be more largely declared hereafter. In thys place seemeth to be some
sauour of disorderly loue, which the learned call poederastice: but it is
gathered beside his meaning. For who that hath red Plato his dialogue
called Alcybiades, Xenophon and Maximus Tyrius of Socrates opinions,
may easil), perceiue, that such loue is touche to be alowed and liked of,
specially so meant, as Socrates vsed it : who sayth, that in deede he loued
Alcybiades extremely, yet hot Alcybiades person, but hys soule, which is
Alcybiades owne selle. And so is poederastice much to be poeferred before i *o
gynerastice, that is the loue whiche enflameth men with lust toward woman
kind. But ),et let no man thinke, that herein I stand with Lucian or hys
deuelish disciple Vnico Axetino, in defence of execrable and horrible sinnes
of forbidden and vnlawful fleshlinesse. Whose abominable errour is fully
confuted of Perionius, and others.
I loue) a prety Epanorthosis in these two verses, and withall a Paronomasia or
playing with the word, where he sayth (I loue thilke lasse (alas &c.
77 sonned Q i: sunned Qq 2-[, F 84 of the name Qq 1-4: the
naine Q 5", F io 7 Q .f, F omit muche i I6 Epanorthosis QE
-3, F: Eponorihosis Q¢ 4, 5
I8 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Rosalinde) is also a feigned name, which being wel ordered, wil bewray the
very naine of hys loue and mistresse, whom by that naine he coloureth.
So as Ouide shadoweth hys loue vnder the naine of Corynna, which of
some is supposed to be Iulia, themperor Augustus his daughter, and wyfe
to Agryppa. So doth Aruntlus Stella euery where call his Lady Asteris
and Ianthis, aibe it is wel knowen that her right name was Violantilla: as
witnesseth Statius in his Epithalamium. And so the famous Paragone of
ltaly, Madonna Coelia in ber letters enuelopeth ber selle vnder the naine
of Zima: and Petrona vnder the naine of ]3ellochia. And this generally
hath bene a common custome of counterfeicting the names of secret
Personages.
Auail) bring downe.
Embleme. 3o
Oterhaile) drawe ouer.
His Embleme or Poesye is here vnder added in Italian, Anch&a speme : the
meaning wherof is, that notwithstande his extreme passion and hcklesse
loue, yet leaning on hope, he is some what recomforted.
Feruarie.
ARGVMENT.
ttis Eglogue is rater moral/ and genernll, then ent to any secrete or
articular puose. It pecially conteyneti a discourse of old age, in the
persone of Thenot an olde Stoepieard, ,wlm for iis crooednesse and nlustlnes«e.
is scorned of Cuddie an ,.nhaikpy tteardmans oye. Tie matter er. vell
x3z Poesye Q z : Poesie Qq 2- 4 : Posie Q', F 133 notwitbstande
Qq z, 2 : notwithstanding Qq 3-', F
FEBRVARIE. 9
accordetb itb the aeaon of the monetb, the yeare no,w dronping, and aa it ere,
dra¢ving to his lait age. For as in this lime of yeare, so tben in our bodies there
dry and ¢vithering coM, ohich congealeth the crudled blood, and frie«eth t&
¢vetherbeaten jqesh, zvith stormes of Fortune, and hoare frosts of Care. To
hich pttrpose the ol«le man telleth a tak the Oate and the Br)'tr, sO liuel and
«o feellngly, as if the thlng aere set forth in some Pkture belote out eyes, mort
plalnly couM hot apiOeare.
CVDDIE. THENOT.
H for pittie, wll rancke Winters rage,
These bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage ?
The kene cold blowes through my beaten hyde,
Ail as I were through the body gryde.
My ragged rontes all shiver and shake,
As doen high Towers in an earthquake :
They wont in the wind wagge their wrigle tailes,
Perke as Peacock: but nowe it auales.
THENOT.
Lewdly complainest thou laesie ladde,
Of Winters wracke, for making thee sadde, io
Must not the world wend in his commun course
From good to badd, and from badde to worse,
From worse vnto that is worst of ail,
And then returne to his former fall ?
Who will hot surfer the stormy time,
Where will he liue tyll the lusty prime ?
Selle haue I worne out thrise threttie yeares,
Some in much ioy, many in many teares:
Yet neuer complained of cold nor heate,
Of Sommers flame, nor of Winters threat : 2o
Ne euer was to Fortune foeman,
But genfly tooke, that vngently came.
And euer my flocke was my chiefe care,
Winter or Sommer they mought well rare.
CVDDIE.
No marueile ff'henot, if thou can beare
Cherefully the Winters wrathfull cheare:
doen Qq I-4 : done Q .f, F 8 Perke as Peacock Q : Perke a
»eacocke Q g : Pearke as a Peacocke Qq ]-j', F 7 threttie Q : thirtie
e--", ,/ 21 Ne euer Qç 1- 4 : Ne neuer Q 3", F
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
For Age and Winter accord full nie,
This chill, that cold, this crooked, that wrye.
And as the lowring Wether lookes downe,
So semest thou like good fryday to frowne. 30
But my flowring youth is foe to frost,
My shippe vnwont in stormes to be tost.
THENOT.
The soueraigne of seas he blames in vaine,
That once seabeate, will to sea againe.
So loytring liue you little heardgroomes,
Keeping your beastes in the budded broomes :
And when the shining sunne laugheth once,
You deemen, the Spring is corne attonce.
Tho gynne you, fond flyes, the cold to scorne,
And crowing in pypes made of greene corne, 40
You thinken to be Lords of the yeare.
But eft, when ye count you freed from feare,
Cornes the breme winter with chamfred browes,
Full of wrinckles and frostie furrowes:
Drerily shooting his stormy darte,
Which cruddles the blood, and pricks the harte.
Then is your carelesse corage accoied,
Your carefull heards with cold bene annoied.
Then paye you the price of your surquedrie,
With weeping, and wayling, and misery. o
CVDD1E.
Ah foolish old man, I scorne thy skill,
That wouldest me, my springing youngth to spil.
I deeme, thy braine emperished bee
Through rusty elde, that bath rotted thee:
Or sicker thy head veray tottie is,
So on thy corbe shoulder it leanes amisse.
Now thy selfe hast lost both lopp and topp,
Als my budding braunch thou wouldest cropp :
38 attonceQql-4: at once Q)-, F 40 corne, Q,r, F: corne:
corne. Qç 3-" 4 feare, Q9 ,r, 4, F: feare. Q9 2, 3, .f 48 bene
annoiedQ9,r, 2: beannoyedQq]-.f,F 5z youngth Qar: youth
FEBRVARIE. OE
But were thy yeares greene, as now bene myne,
To other delights they would encline. 60
Tho wouldest thou learne to caroll of Loue,
And hery with hymnes thy lasses gloue.
Tho wouldest thou pype of Phyllis prayse:
But Phyllis is myne for many dayes:
I wonne ber with a gyrdle of gelt,
Embost with buegle about the belt.
Such an one shepeheards woulde make full faine:
Such an one would make thee younge againe.
THENOT.
Thou art a fon, of thy loue to boste,
All that is lent to loue, wyll be lost. 70
CVDDIE.
Seest, howe brag yond Bullocke beares,
So smirke, so smoothe, his pricked eares?
His bornes bene as broade, as Rainebowe bent,
His dewelap as lythe, as lasse of Kent.
See howe he venteth into the wynd.
Weenest of loue is hot his mynd ?
Seemeth thy flocke thy counsell can,
So lustlesse bene they, so weake so wan,
Clothed with cold, and hoary wyth frost.
Thy flocks father his corage hath lost: 80
Thy Ewes, that wont to haue blowen bags,
Like wailefull widdowes hangen their crags:
The rather Lambes bene starued with cold,
Ail for their Maister is lustlesse and old.
THENOT.
Cuddie, I wote thou kenst little good,
So vainely taduaunce thy headlesse hood.
For Youngth is a bubble blown vp with breath,
Whose witt is weakenesse, whose wage is death,
Whose way is wildernesse, whose ynne Penaunce,
And stoopegallaunt Age the hoste of Greeuaunce. 9o
8 blowen Qq l, 2: blowne Qq 3-5, F 86 taduaunce Qq l, 2: to
aduance Qq3-5, F 87 Youngth Qq 1, 2 : ynough Qq3-5: youth F
OE2EE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
But shaJl I tel thee a tale of truth,
Which I cond of tyrus in my youth,
Keeping his sheepe on the hils of Kent ?
CVDDIE.
To nought more henot, my mind is bent,
Then to heare nouells of his deuise:
They bene so well thewed, and so wise,
What euer that good old man bespake.
THENOT.
Many meete tales of youth did he make,
And some of loue, and some of cheualrie:
But none fitter then this to applie.
Now listen a while, and hearken the end.
lOO
T Here grewe an aged Tree on the greene,
A goodly Oake sometime had it bene,
With armes full strong and largely displayd,
But of their leaues they were disarayde :
The bodie bigge, and mightely pight,
Throughly rooted, and of wonderous hight:
Whilome had bene the King of the field,
And mochell toast to the husband did yielde,
And with his nuts larded many swine.
But now the gray mosse marred his rine,
His bared boughes were beaten with stormes,
His toppe was bald, and wasted with wormes,
His honor decayed, his braunches sere.
Hard by his side grewe a bragging brere,
Which proudly thrust into Thelement,
And seemed to threat the Firmament.
Yt was embellisht with blossomes fayre,
And thereto aye wonned to repayre
The shepheards daughters, to gather flowres,
To peinct their girlonds with his colowres.
And in his small bushes vsed to shrowde
The sweete Nightingale singing so lowde:
9 2 Tityru« Qq 1-4: Tytirus Q5, F
wondrous Q 3", F
I10
120
o7 wonderous Qq -4 :
FEBRVARIE.
23
Which made this foolish Brere wexe so bold,
That on a time he cast him to scold,
And snebbe the good Oake, for he was old.
Wh)- standst there (quoth he) thou brutish blocke ?
Nor for fruict, nor for shadowe serues th)- stocke:
Seest, how fresh m)- flowers bene spredde,
Dyed in Lilly white, and Cremsin redde, i3o
With Leaues engrained in lusty greene,
Colours meete to clothe a mayden Qeene.
Thy wast bignes but combers the grownd,
And dirks the beauty of my blossomes rownd.
The mouldie mosse, which thee accloieth,
My Sinamon smell too much annoieth.
Wherefore soone I rede thee, hence remoue,
Least thou the price of my displeasure proue.
So spake this bold brere with great disdaine :
Little him answered the Oake againe, i4o
But yielded, with shame and greefe adawed,
That of a weede he was ouercrawed.
Yt chaunced after vpon a day,
The Hus-bandman selfe to corne that way,
Of custome for to seruewe his grownd,
And his trees of state in compasse rownd.
Him when the spitefull brere had espyed,
Causlesse complained, and lowdly cryed
Vnto his Lord, stirring vp sterne strife:
O my liege Lord, the God of my life, I5o
Pleaseth you ponder your Suppliants plaint,
Caused of wrong, and cruell constraint,
Which I your poore Vassall dayly endure:
And but your goodnes the same recure,
Am like for desperate doole to dye,
Through felonous force of mine enemie.
Greafly aghast with this piteous plea,
Him rested the goodman on the lea,
I27 quoth he I, F: quoth Qq2-f I3o CremsinQql-4: Crimsin
Q.j', F I37 Wherefore I rede thee hence to remoue F I42 ouer-
crawed Qq 3-)', F: ouerawed Qq t, 2 144 Hus-bandman Qq I-4:
husbandmans Q.f, F 145 for to Qq 1- 4 : to Q)', F I5I ponder Qq
1-3: pond Qq 4, 5", F 152 constraint Qq 1-5": complaint F
:4 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDP_.R.
And badde the Brere in his plaint proceede.
With painted words tho gan this proude weede,
(As most vsen Ambitious folke :)
His colowred crime with craft to cloke.
Ah my soueraigne, Lord of creatures all,
Thou placer of plants both humble and tall,
Was not I planted of thine owne hand,
To be the primrose of ail thy land,
With flowring blossomes, to furnish the prime,
And scarlot berries in Sommer rime ?
How falls it then, that this faded Oake,
Whose bodie is sere, whose braunches broke, 7o
Wbose naked Armes stretch vnto the lyre,
Vnto such tyrannie doth aspire:
Hindering with his shade my louely light,
And robbing me of the swete sonnes sight ?
So beate his old boughes my tender side,
That oft the bloud springeth from woundes wyde:
Vntimely my flowres forced to fall,
That bene the honor of your Coronall.
And oft he lets his cancker wormes light
Vpon my braunches, to worke me more spigbt: 8o
And oft his hoarie locks downe doth cast»
Where with my fresh flowretts bene defast.
For tbis, and many more such outrage,
Crauing your goodlihead to aswage
The ranckorous rigour of his might,
Nought aske I, but onely to hold my right:
Submitting me to your good sufferance,
And praying to be garded from greeuance.
To this the Oake cast him to replie
\Vell as he couth: but his enemie 9o
Had kindled such coles of displeasure,
x 66 land, Q 1 : land. Q 2- 5. F 68 scarlot Q i, 2 : scarlet Qq
t- 4 : skarlet 5, F 73 Hindering Qz- 4 : Hindring QS, F 176
woundes Q 2- 4 : wounds Q l. 5, F 8 oft Q , F: of Qq
x82 flowretts I= flowrets Oq 2-4: F|orets 5, F x84 goodlihead
Q : goodlyhead Q¢ 2.3, F: goodly head Q¢ 4, ,¢ ,89 this the Q I:
this this 2, t : this, this Qq 4, , F
FEBRVARIE.
That the good man noulde stay his leasure,
But home him hasted with furious heate,
Encreasing his wrath with many a threate.
His harmefull Hatchet he hent in hand,
(Alas, that it so ready should stand)
And to the field alone he speedeth.
(Ay little helpe to harme there needeth)
Anger nould let him speake to the tree,
Enaunter his rage mought cooled bee: 200
But to the roote bent his sturdy stroke,
And made many wounds in the wast Oake.
The Axes edge did oft turne againe,
As halfe vnwilling to cutte the graine:
Semed, the sencelesse yron dyd feare,
Or to wrong holy eld did forbeare.
For it had bene an auncient tree,
Sacred with many a mysteree,
And often crost with the priestes crewe,
And often halowed with holy water dewe. 2o
But sike fancies weren foolerie,
And broughten this Oake to this miserye.
For nought mought they quitten him from decay :
For fiercely the good man at him did laye.
The blocke oft groned vnder the blow,
And sighed to see his neare ouerthrow.
In fine the steele had pierced his pitth,
Tho downe to the earth he fell forthwith :
His wonderous weight made the grounde to quake,
Thearth shronke vnder him, and seemed to shake. 22o
There lyeth the Oake, pitied of none.
Now stands the Brere like a Lord alone,
Puffed vp with pryde and vaine pleasaunce:
But all this glee had no continuaunce.
For eftsones Winter gan to approche,
The blustring Boreas did encroche,
193- 4 heate, threate. Qç I-3: heate, threate, Qç 4,5, F 209
pfiestes Qq -3 : pfiests Qq 4, 5, F 218 earth Qq 2- 2" : ground F
226 blustfing Qq 1-4: blustefing Q 2", F
OE6 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
And beate vpon the solitarie Brere:
For nowe no succoure was seene him nere.
Now gan he repent his pryde to late:
For naked left and disconsolate,
The byting frost nipt his stalke dead,
The watrie wette weighed downe his head,
And heaped snowe burdned him so sore,
That nowe vpright he can stand no more:
And being downe, is trodde in the durt
Of cattell, and brouzed, and sorely hurt.
Such was thend of this Ambitious brere,
ior scorning Eld
CVDDIE.
No I pray thee shepheard, tel it hOt forth'.
Here is a long tale, and little worth.
So longe haue I listened to thy speche,
That graffed to the ground is my breche:
My hartblood is welnigh frorne 1 feele,
And my galage growne fast to my heele:
But little ease of thy lewd tale I tasted.
Hye thee home shepheard, the day is nigh wasted.
Thenots Embleme.
Iddio perche è vecchio,
Fa suoi al suo essempio.
Cuddies Embleme.
Niuno vecchio,
Spaventa Iddio.
5o
GLOSSE.
Kene) sharpe.
Gride) perced: an olde word much vsed of Lidgate, but not round (that I
know of) in Chaucer. Ronts) young bullockes.
Wracke) ruine or Violence, whence commeth shipwracke: and hOt wreake,
that is vengeaunce or wrath.
Foeman) a foe.
Thenot) the naine of a shepheard in Marot his/Eglogues.
28 was seene Qql-4: was QS, F 9-3o late: For . . . dis-
consolate, Qq -3: late: Yor . . . disconso]ate, Q 4: late, Yore . . .
disconsolate. Q s, F
260
FEBRVARIE. 2 7
The soueraigne of Seas} is Neptune the God of the seas. The saying is
borowed of Mimus Publlanus, which vsed this prouerb in a verse.
Improbè Neptunum accusat, qui iterum naufragium facit.
Heardgromes) Chaucers verse almost whole.
Fond Flyes) He compareth carelesse shggardes or iii husbandmen to flyes,
that so soone as the sunne shineth, or yt wexeth any thing warme, begin to
flye abroade, when sodeinly they be ouertaken with col&
But eft when) A verye excellent and liuely description of Winter, so as may
bec indifferently taken, eyther for old Age, or for Winter season.
Breme) chill, bitter. Chamfred) chapt, or wrirtckled, z ïo
Accoied) plucked downe and daunted. Surquedrie) pryde.
Elde) olde age. Sicker) sure. Tottie) wauering.
Corbe) crooked. Herie) worshippe.
Phyllis) the naine of some mayde vnknowen, whom Cuddie, whose person is
secrete, loue& The naine is vsuall in Theocritus, Virgile, and Mantuane.
Belte) a girdle or wast ban& A fon) a foole, lythe) sort and gentile.
Venteth) snuffeth in the wind. Thy flocks Father) the Ramme. Crags)
necke$.
Rather Lambes) that be ewed early in the beginning of the yeare.
Youth is) A verye moral and pitthy Allegorie of youth, and the lustes thereof,
compared to a wearie wayfaring man.
Tityrus) I suppose he meane Chaucer, whose prayse for pleasaunt tales cannot
dye, so long as the memorie of hys naine shal liue, and the naine of Poetrie
shal endure.
Well thewed) that is, Bene moratoe, full of morall wisenesse.
There grew) This raie of the Oake and the Brere, he tel|eth as |earned of
Chaucer, but it is cleane in another kind, and rather like to JEsopes fanes.
It is very excellente for pleasaunt descriptions, being altogether a certaine
Icon or Hypotyposis of disdainfull younkers.
Embellisht) beautified and adorned. To wonne) to haunt or frequent. Sneb) zgo
checke.
Why standst) The speach is scorneful and very presumptuous. Engrained)
dyed in grain.
Accloieth) encombreth. Adawed) daunted and confounded.
Trees of state) taller trees fitte for tituber wood. Sterne strife) said Chaucer
.s. fell and sturdy. O my liege) A maner of supplication, wherein is
kindly coloured the affection and speache of Ambitious men.
Coronall) Garlande. Flourets) young blossomes.
The Primrose) The chiefe and worthiest.
Naked armes) metaphorically ment of the bare boughes, spoyled of leaues. 300
This colourably he speaketh, as adiudging hym to the fyre.
The blood) spoken of a blocke, as it were of a liuing creature, figuratiuely,
and (as they saye) ar'
Hoarie lockes) metaphorically for withered leaues.
Hent) caught. Nould) for would hot. Ay) euermore. Vounds) gashes.
Ènaunter) least that.
z8z meane q I-.f : meanes F z85 moratoe Qq I- 3 : morata Qq 4,
5, F z94 encombreth Q I : accombreth Qq2-5, F 303 car'
I : kat' eikasmort Q 2 : kat' etkasmon Qq 3-5 : kat' exochen F
28 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDR.
The priestes crewe) holy water pott, wherewith the popishe priest vsed to
sprinckle and hallowe the trees from mischaunce. Such blindnesse was in
those times, which the Poete supposeth, to haue bene the finall decay of
this auncient Oake. 3fo
The blocke oft groned) A liuelye figure, whiche geueth sence and feeling to
vnsensible creatures, as Virgile also sayeth : Saxa gemunt grauido &c.
Boreas) The Northerne wynd, that bringeth the moste stormie weather.
Glee) chere and iollitie.
For scorning EId) And minding (as shoulde seme) to haue made ryme to the
former verse, he is conningly cutte of by Cuddye, as disdayning to here
any more.
Galage) a startuppe or clownish shoe.
Embleme.
This embleme is spoken of Thenot, as a moral of his former tale : namelye, 320
that God, which is himselfe most aged, being before al ages, and without
beginninge, maketh those, whom he loueth like to himselfe, in heaping yeares
vnto.theyre d.ayes, and blessing them wyth longe lyfe. For the blessing of
age s not guen to ail, but vnto those, whome God will so blesse: and
albeit that many euil men reache vnto such fulnesse of yeares, and some
also wexe olde in myserie and thraldome, yet therefore is not age euer the
lesse blessing. For euen to such euill men such number of yeares is added,
that they may in their last dayes repent, and come to their first home. So
the old man checketh the rashheaded boy, for despysing his gray and
frostye heares. 33o
Vhom Cuddye doth counterbuff with a byting and bitter prouerbe, spoken
indeede at the first in contempt of old age generally. For it was an Çld
opinion, and yet is continued in some mens conceipt, that men of yeares
haue no feare of god at al, or hot so much as younger folke. For that being
rypened with long experience, and hauing passed many bitter brunts and
blastes of vengeaunce, they dread no stormes of Fortune, nor wrathe of
Gods, nor daunger of menne, as being eyther by longe and ripe wisedome
armed against ail mischaunces and aduersitie, or with much trouble hardened
against ail troublesome tydes : lyke vnto the Ape, of which is sayd in JEsops
fables, that oftcntimes meeting the Lyon, he was at first sore aghast and 34o
dismayed at the grimnes and austeritie of hys countenance, but at last being
acquainted with his lookes, he was so furre from fearing him, that he would
familiarly gybe and lest with him : Suche longe experience breedeth in some
men securitie. Although it please Erasimus a great clerke and good old
father, more fatherly and fauourablye to construe it in his Adages for his
own behoofe, That by the prouerbe Nemo Senex metuit Iouem, is hOt
meant, that old men haue no feare of God at al, but that they be furre from
superstition and Idolatrous regard of false Gods, as is Iupiter. But his
greate leaming notwithstanding, it is to plaine, to be gainsayd, that olde
men are muche more enclined to such fond fooleries, then younger heades. 35o
3 6- 7 he is... more Qq 1-3: orn. Qq 4, 5, F 329 rashheaded
. 1, : raw-headed Qq3-.f, F 337 Gods Qq 1- 4 : God O.Q.f, F
338 aduersitie Qq 1- 4 : aduersities .f 343 lest with him f 1- 4 : ieast
at him )', F
TCOe.
.)Egloga 'ertia.
ARGVMENT.
IIN t»;, glogue to s»»eard, »oye, taling occasion of te season, eginne
o mate purpose of loue and other plesaunce, bib :o springtime L most
agreeabk. The speciall meaning hereof is, to giue certaine martes and Cotent, to
1nota Cupide che Poetc God of Loue. But more particularlye I thinte, in the
percon of Thomalin ic meant corne cecrete freend, oho ccorned Loue and hic
tnightc co long, till at length him celle ,wac entangled, and noarec ounded oith
the dart of corne beautifull regard, hich ic Cupidec arrooe.
WILLYE THOMALIN.
T Homalin, why sytten we soe,
As weren ouerwent with woe,
Vpon so fayre a morow ?
The ioyous rime now nigheth fast,
That shall alegge this bitter blast,
And slake che winters sorowe.
THOMALIN.
Sicker Willye, thou warnest well:
For Winters wrath beginnes to quell,
A. 3 /eof ic, t2ç ,', a: &eof ;c t2ç 3, 4:
z weren Qq I-3, F: were Qq 4, 5
winters Q I: winter Qq z-)', F
4 nigheth F: nighest Qq x- 3 6
3o
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
And pleasant spring appeareth.
The grasse nowe ginnes to be refresht,
The Swallow peepes out of her nest,
And clowdie Welkin cleareth.
IO
WILLYE.
Seest hOt thilke same Hawthorne studde,
How bragly it beginnes to budde,
And vtter his tender head?
Fra now calleth forth eche flower»
And bids make ready Maias bowre,
That newe is vpryst from bedde.
Tho shall we sporten in delight,
And learne with Lettiie to wexe light,
That scornefully lookes askaunce,
Tho will we little Loue awake,
That nowe sleepeth in Lahe lake»
And pray him leaden our daunce.
2O
THOMALIN.
Willye, I wene thou bee assott:
For lustie Loue still sleepeth not,
But is abroad at his game.
WILLYE.
How kenst thou» that he is awoke ?
Or hast thy selle his slomber broke ?
Or made preuie to the same ?
3 °
THOMALIN.
No, but happely I hym spyde,
Where in a bush he did him hide,
With winges of purple and blewe.
And were not, that my sheepe would stray,
The preuie marks I would bewray,
Whereby by chaunce I him knewe.
2I askaunce, Qq I, 2: askaunce: Q93-., F 3 o, 35 preuie Q I:
pfiuie Q9 2-)', F 3 t happely Q9 I, 2 : happily Q9 3, )', F
MARCH.
3 1
WILLYE.
Thomalin, haue no care for thy,
My selfe will haue a double eye,
Ylike to my flocke and thine:
For als at home 1 haue a syre, 4o
A stepdame eke as whott as f-yre,
That dewly adayes counts mine.
THOMALIN.
Nay, but thy seeing will hOt serue,
My sheepe for that may chaunce to swerue,
And fall into some mischiefe.
For sithens is but the third morowe,
That I chaunst to fall a sleepe with sorowe,
And waked againe with griefe:
The while thilke saine vnhappye Ee,
Whose clouted legge her hurt doth shewe, o
Fell headlong into a dell.
And there vnioynted both her bones:
Mought her necke bene ioynted attones,
She shoulde haue neede no more spell.
Thelf was so wanton and so wood,
(But now I trowe can better good)
She mought ne gang on the greene.
WlLLYE.
Let be, as may be, that is past :
That is to corne, let be forecast.
Now tell vs, what thou hast seene. 6o
THOMALIN.
It was vpon a holiday,
When shepheardes groomes han leaue to playe,
I cast to goe a shooting.
Long wandring vp and downe the land,
With bowe and bolts in either hand,
For birds in bushes tooting:
40 als Qq r, 5, k": alasQ.q2- 4 41 whott q r, 2: hoteQ.q3-y,F
4 z dewly Qq r- 4 : duly Q 5, F 55 Thelf Q : Thelfe Q9 2-4 : Th'elfe
QS, z' 57 greene. Qq3-5, z': greene, Qq I, 2 60 vs, Qq I- 4 :
vs Q)-, F seene. Qq 1-3, F: seene, Qç 4, 5" 6 3 cast Qç I, 2, F:
cost Qq ]-5
3 . THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
At length within an Yuie todde
(There shrouded was the little God)
1 heard a busie bustling.
I bent my bolt against the bush, 7o
Listening if an), thing did rushe,
But then heard no more rusding.
Tho peeping close into the thiçke,
Might see the mouing of some quicke,
Whose shape appeared not:
But were it faerie, feend, or snake,
My courage earnd it to awake,
And manfully thereat shotte.
With that sprong forth a naked swa),ne,
With spotted winges like Peacocks trayne, 8o
And laughing lope to a tree.
His gylden quiuer at his backe,
And siluer bowe, which was but slacke,
Whiçh lightly he bent at me.
That seeing, I leuelde againe,
And shott at him with might and maine,
As thicke, as it had hayled.
So long I shott, that al was spent:
Tho pumie stones I hastly hent,
And threwe : but nought availed : 90
He was so wimble, and so wight,
From bough to bough he lepped light,
And oft the pumies latched.
Therewith affrayd I ranne away:
But he, that earst seemd but to playe,
A shaft in earnest snatched,
And hit me running in the heele:
For then I little smart did feele:
But soone it sore encreased.
And now it rancldeth more and more, oo
And iriwardly it festreth sore,
Ne wote I, how to cease it.
an Qq I, z : the Qq3-5, F 8 5 seeing, I Qy, F: seeing I, Qq
8 9 hastly Qql-4: hastely Q.f,F hent, Qql-3, F: hent: Qq4,5
l¢pped Qq i- 4 : leaped Q -, F
MARCH.
33
WlLLYE.
Thomalin, I pittie thy plight.
Perdie with loue thou diddest fight:
I know him by a token.
For once I heard my father say,
How he him caught vpon a day,
(Whereof he wilbe wroken)
Entangled in a fowling net,
Which he for carrion Crowes had set,
That in our Peeretree haunted.
Tho sayd, he was a winged lad,
But bowe and shafts as then none had."
Els had he sore be daunted.
But see the Welkin thicks apace,
And stouping Poe«bus steepes his face:
Yts rime to hast vs homeward.
II0
Willyes Embleme.
ço be wise and eke to loue,
[s graunted scarce to God aboue.
Thomalins Embleme.
Of Hony and of Gaule in loue toeere is store :
he Honye is much, but the Gaule is more.
GLO$$.
THIS _.glogue seemeth somewhat to resemble that saine of Theocritus,
wherein the boy likewise telling the old man, that he had shot at a winged
boy in a tree, was by hym warned, to beware of mischiefe to corne.
Ouer went) ouergone. Alegge) to lessen or aswage.
To quell) to abate. Welkin) the skie.
The swallow) which bird vseth to be counted the messenger, and as it were, :3o
the fore runner of springe.
Flora) the Goddesse of flowres, but indede (as saith Tacitus) a famous
harlot, which with the abuse of ber body hauing gotten great riches, ruade
the people of Rome ber heyre : who in remembraunce of so great bene-
ficence, appointed a yearely leste for the memoriall of ber, calling her, hOt
as she was, nor as some doe think, Andronica, but Flora: making her the
Goddesse of all floures, and doing yerely to her solemne sacrifice.
Maias bowre) that is the pleasaunt fielde, or rather the Maye bushes. Maia
is a Goddes and the mother of Mercurie, in honour of whome the moneth
of Maye is of ber naine so called, as sayth Macrobius. 4o
: :6 P,Seut Q : P,SOeu« Qq z-y, F
34 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDK.
Lettice) the name of some country lasse.
Ascaunce) askewe or asquint. For thy) therefore.
Lethe) is a l:,ke in hell, which the Poetes call the lake of forgetfulnes. For
Lethe signifieth forgetfulnes. Wherein the soules being dipped, did forger
the cares of their former lyre. So that by loue sleeping in Lethe lake, he
meaneth he was almost forgotten and out of knowledge, by reason of
vinters hardnesse, vhen al pleasures, as it were, sleepe and weare oute of
mynde.
Assotte) to dote.
His slomber) To breake Loues slomber, is to exercise the delightes of Loue xSo
and wanton pleasures.
Winges of purple) so is he feyned of the Poetes.
For als) he imitateth Virgils verse.
Est mihi namque dorni pater, est iniusta nouerca &c.
A delJ) a hole in the ground.
8pell) is a kinde of verse or charme, that in elder tymes they vsed often to
say ouer euery thing, that they would haue preserued, as the Nightspel for
theeues, and the woodspell. And herehence I thinke is named the gospell,
as it were Gods spell or worde. And so sayth Chaucer, Listenth
Lordings to my spell, x6o
Gange) goe. An Yuie todde) a thicke bushe.
8waine) a boye : For so is he described of the Poetes, to be a boye .s. alwayes
freshe and lustie : blindfolded, because he maketh no difference of Person-
ages: wyth diuers coloured winges, .s. fui of flying fancies: with bowe
and arrow, that is with glannce of beautye, which prycketh as a forked
arrowe. He is sayd also to hane shafts, some leaden, some golden : that
is, both pleasure for the gracious and loued, and sorow for the louer that is
disdayned or forsaken. But who liste more at large to behold Cupids
colours and furniture, let him reade ether Propertius, or Moschus his
Idyllion of wandring loue, being now most excellently translated into
Latine by the singuler learned man Angelus Politianus: whych worke
I haue seene amongst other of thys Poets doings, very wel translated also
into Englishe Rymes.
Wimble and wighte) Quicke and deliuer.
In the heele) is very Poetically spoken, and hot without speciall iudgement.
For I remember, that in Homer it is sayd of Thetis, that shee tooke her
young babe Achilles being newely borne, and holding him by the hede,
dipped him in the Riuer of Styx. The verrue whereof is, to defend and
keepe the bodyes washed therein from any mortall wound. So Achilles
being washed al ouer, saue onely his hele, by which his mother held, was in ,8o
the test invulnerable: therfore by Paris was feyned to bec shotte with
a poysoned arrowe in the heele, whiles he was busie about the marying of
45 by loue sleeping Qç r, » : by out sleeping Q¢ 3, 4 : by sleeping Q .f, F
47 pleasures, Q.,c, F: pleasures Q¢ r- 4 5 o s to exercise Q¢i, »:
to exercise Q¢ 3-.f, F x 58-9 gospell, as it vere Q¢ i, 2 : Q¢ 3-.f, F omit
17o wandring Qq r- 3 : wingdring Q 4 : winged Q.f, F
MARCH. 35
Polyxena in the temple of Apolio. Which mysticall fable Eustathius
vnfolding, sayth : that by wounding in the hele, is meant lustfull loue. For
from the heele (as say the best Phisitions) to the preuie pattes there passe
certaine reines and slender synnewes, as also the like corne from the head,
and are carryed lyke llttle pyFes behynd the eares: so that (as sayth
Hipocrates) yf those veynes there be cut a sonder, the partie straighte
becommeh coid and vnfruiteful. Whlch reason out Poete wel weighing,
maketh this shepheards boye of purpose to be wounded by Loue in the 9o
heele.
Latched) caught. Wroken) reuenged.
For once)In this raie is serte out the simplicitye of shepheards opinion of
Loue.
Stouping Phoebus) Is a Periphrasis of the sunne setting.
Embleme.
Hereby is meant, that ail the delights of Loue, wherein wanton youth
walloweth, be but follye mixt with bitternesse, and sorow sawced with
repentaunce. For besides that the very affection of Loue it sdfe tormenteth
the mynde, and vexeth the body many wayes, with vnrestfulnesse ail night, zoo
and wearines ail day, seeking for that we can hot haue, and fynding that we
would hot haue : euen the selle things which best before vs lyked, in course
of rime and chaung of ryper yeares, whiche also therewithall chaungeth out
wonted lyking and former fantasies, will then seeme lothsome and breede vs
annoyaunce, when yougthes flowre is withered, and we fynde out bodyes
and wits aunswere hot to suche vayne iollitie and lustfull pleasaunce.
9o F omit« by Loue uo 5 yougthes Q : youthes Qq .o- 4 : youths
!)2
Aprill.
Egloga Quarta.
ARGVMENT.
tIis ïglogue is iOurlOosely intended to the onor and prayse of our mo«t
racious souereigne, Queene ligabet. Te sIeaert tSerein be l]oiaoll
and Thenott, tvo sepheardes : te vhic Hobbinoll being belote mentioned,
gready to lmue loued Coli, i« here «et fort, more largdy, complay.ing him of that
boye« great misaduenture in Loue, vhereby hic mynd va« alienate and
drave, hot onely from him, vho motte loued him, but al«o from ail former deli«a
a.d «tudie«, asvell !n lolea«aunt pyping, as conning ryming and «inging, a.d otber
hic laudable exerae«. Whereby he taeth occa«ion, for proofe of his more
excellencie and «ill in looetrie , fo recorde a «onge, vhich the «ayd Colin «ometlme
ruade in bonor of ber 2Vlaiestie, vhom abruptely he termet
THENOT. HOBBINOLL.
T EII me good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greete ?
What ? hath some Wolfe thy tender Lambes ytorne ?
Or is thy Bagpype broke, that soundes so sweete ?
Or art thou ofthy loued lasse forlorne ?
Or bene thine eyes attempred to the yeare,
Quenching the gasping furrowes thirst with rayne ?
Like April shoure, so stremes the trickling teares
Adowne thy cheeke, to quenche thy thriftye payne.
AR;. herein Qq 1- 4 : hereof Q f, F 5 alienate Qq l- 4 : alienated
APRILL.
37
HOBBINOLL.
Nor th)s, nor that, so muche doeth make me mourne,
But for the ladde, whome long I lovd so deare, io
Nowe loues a lasse, that all his loue doth scorne:
He plongd in payne, his tressed locks dooth teare.
Shepheards delights he dooth them all forsweare,
Hys pleasaunt Pipe, whych made vs meriment,
He wylfully hath broke, and doth forbeare
His wonted songs, wherein he all outwent.
THENOT.
What is he for a Ladde, you so lainent ?
Ys loue such pinching payne to them, that proue ?
And hath he skill to make so excellent,
Yet hath so little skill to brydle loue ?
o
HOBBINOLL.
Colin thou kenst, the Southerne shepheardes boye:
Him Loue hath wounded with a deadly darte.
Whilome on him was all my care and ioye,
Forcing with gyfts to winne his wanton heart.
But now from me hys madding mynd is starte,
And woes the Widdowes daughter of the glenne :
So nowe fa)re Rosalind hath bredde hys smart,
So now his frend is chaunged for a frenne.
THENOT.
But if hys ditties bene so trimly dight,
I pray thee Hollinoll, recorde some one:
The whiles our flockes doe graze about in sight,
And we close shrowded in thys shade alone.
3 °
HOBBINOL.
Contented I : then will I singe his laye
Of fayre Eliza, Qeene of shepheardes all:
Which once he made, as by a spring he laye,
And tuned it vnto the Waters fall.
x 3 delights Qq I, 2, 2w: delight Qq3-" 3 6 tuned Qq I, 2, 2w:
turned Qtt 3-2"
3 8
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
E dayntye Nymphs, that in this blessed Brooke
doe bathe your brest,
Forsake your watry bowres, and hether looke,
at my request :
And eke you Virgins, that on Parnasse dwell,
Whence floweth Helicon the learned well,
Helpe me to blaze
Her worthy praise,
Which in her sexe doth all excell.
4 °
Of fayre Elisa be your siluer song,
that blessed wight:
The flowre of Virgins, may shee florish long,
In princely plight.
For shee is Syrinx daughter without spotte,
Which Pan the shepheards God of her begot:
So sprong ber grace
Of heauenly race,
No mortall blemishe may her blotte.
See, where she sits vpon the grassie greene,
(O seemely sight)
Yclad in Scarlot like a mayden Qeene,
And Ermines white.
Vpon her head a Cremosin coronet,
With Damaske roses and Daffadillies set:
Bayleaues betweene,
And Primroses greene
Embellish the sweete Violet.
50
60
Tell me, haue ye seene her angelick face,
Like Pha'be fayre ?
Her heauenly haueour, her princely grace
can you well compare ?
38 bathe Qq -4, F: bath Q 5" 39 Forsake Qq ,-)-, F: For sake
Q hether Qq 1-4 : hither Q)-, F 57 Scarlot Qq 1-4 : scarlet
QS, F 58 Ermines Qq , 2 : Eremines Qq3, 4 : Erimines Q)-, F
$9 Cremosin Qq 1-4: Crimosin QS, F 64 angelick Q : angelike
Q a : ange]like Qq t-)": angel-like F 66 haueour Qq t-4: hauiour
Q)", F
APRILL.
39
The Redde rose medled with the White yfere,
In either cheeke depeincten liuely chere.
Her modest eye, o
Her Maiestie,
Where haue you seene the like, but there ?
I sawe Ptteebus thrust out his golden hedde,
vpon her to gaze:
But when he sawe, how broade her beames did spredde,
it did him amaze.
He blusht to see another Sunne belowe,
Ne durst againe his fyrye face out showe:
Let him, if he date,
His brightnesse compare io
With hers, to haue the ouerthrowe.
Shewe thy selfe Cynthia with thy siluer rayes,
and be not abasht :
When shee the beames of her beauty displayes,
O how art thou dasht ?
But I will not match her with LÆtonÆes seede,
Such follie great sorow to Niobe did breede.
Now she is a stone,
And makes dayly mone,
Warning all other to take heede. 9o
Pan may be proud, that euer he begot
such a Bellibone,
And Syrinx reioyse, that euer was her lot
to beare such an one.
Soone as my younglings cryen for the dam,
To her will I offer a milkwhite Lamb."
Shee is my goddesse plaine,
And I her shepherds swayne,
Albee forswonck and forswatt I am.
I see Calliope speede her to the place, oo
where my Goddesse shines:
And after her the other Muses trace,
with their Violines.
7z like, but Qq ,r- 4 : like but Q.f, F
4 °
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Bene they not Bay braunches, which they doe beare,
Ail for Elisa in her hand to weare ?
So sweetely they play,
And sing ail the way,
That it a heauen is to heare.
Lo how finely the graces can it foote
to the Instrument: o
They dauncen def[ty, and singen soote,
in their meriment.
Wants not a fourth grace, to make the daunce euen ?
Let that rowme to my Lady be yeuen:
She shalbe a grace,
To fyll the fourth place,
And teigne with the test in heauen.
And whither rennes this beuie of Ladies bright,
raunged in a rowe ?
They bene all Ladyes of the lake behight,
that vnto ber goe.
Chloris, that is the chiefest Nymph of al,
Of Oliue braunches beares a Coronall :
Oliues bene for peace,
Vhen wars doe surcease:
Such for a Princesse bene principall.
120
Ye shepheards daughters, that dwell on the greene,
hye you there apace:
Let none corne there, but that Virgins bene,
to adorne ber grace.
And when you corne, whereas shee is in place,
See, that your rudenesse doe hot you disgrace:
Binde your fillets faste,
And gird in your waste,
For more finesse, with a tawdrie lace.
t3o
x 06 play, Qq i, 2: play : Qç t-f, F x 3 not hOt Qq I-2 x x 5
shalbe Qq i-4 : shall be Q j- 134 in your waste, Qq I-], F: on your
wast Qq 4, f x35 finesse, Qq 1- 4 : finenesse, Q.f, F
APRILL.
Bring hether the Pincke and purple Cullambine,
With Gelliflowres :
Bring Coronations, and Sops in wine,
worne of Paramoures.
Strowe me the ground with Daffadowndillies,
And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and loued Lillies:
The pretie Pawnce,
And the Cheuisaunce,
Shall match with the fayre flowre Delice.
Now ryse vp Elisa, decked as thou art,
in royall aray:
And now ye daintie Damsells may depart
echeone her way,
I feare, I haue troubled your troupes to longe:
Let dame Eliza thanke you for her song.
And if you come hether,
When Damsines I gerber,
I will part them all you among.
THENOT.
And was thilk same song of Colins owne making ?
Ah foolish boy, that is with loue yblent:
Great pittie is, he be in such taking,
For naught caren, that bene so lewdly bent.
HOBBINOL.
Sicker I hold him, for a greater fort,
That loues the thing, he cannot purchase.
But let vs homeward: for night draweth on,
And twincling starres the daylight hence chase.
Thenots Embleme.
0 quam te memorem virgo ?
Hobbinols Embleme.
0 dea certe.
x37 Gelliflowres Qq t- 4 : Gillifloures QS, F
Delice, Qq t- 4 i46 aray Qq t-4 : ray QS, F
eche one Qq 2-4: each one Q 2-, F
ail among Qq
41
x4 o
x5o
I60
I44 Delice. QS, F:
148 echeone Q ,r:
x53 ail you among Qq t, 2, F:
4 THE SHEPHEARDES
GLO$$E.
Gars thee greete) causeth thee weepe and complain.
Forlorne) left and forsaken.
Attempred to the yeare) agreeable to the season of the yeare, that is April],
which moneth is most bent to shoures and seasonable rayne : to quench,
tbat is, to delaye the drought, caused through drynesse of Match wyndes.
The Ladde) Colin Clout. The Lasse) Rosalinda.
Tressed locks) wrethed and ¢urled.
Is he for a ]adde) A straunge manner of speaking .s. what maner of Ladde
is he ?
To make) to rime and ersifye. For in this word making, out olde Fnglishe
Poetes were wont to comprehend all the skil of Poetrye, a¢cording to the
Greeke woorde -o,i, to make, whence commeth the naine of Poetes.
Colin thou kenst)knowest. Seemeth hereby that Colin lerteyneth to some
Southern noble man, and perhaps in Surrye or Kent, the rather bicause he 8o
so often nameth the Kentish downes, and belote, As lythe as lasse of Kent.
The Widowes) He calleth Rosalind the Widowes daughter of the glenne,
that is, of a country Hamlet or borough, which I thinke is rather sayde to
coloure and concele the person, then simp]y spoken. For it is well knowen,
euen in spighte of Colin and Hobbinoll, that shee is a Gentle woman of no
meane bouse, nor endewed with anye vulgare and common gifts both of
nature and manners : but suche indeede, as neede nether Colin be ashamed
to haue ber ruade knowne by his verses, nor Hobbinol be greued, that so
she should be commended to imrnorta]itie for her rare and singular Vertues:
Specially deseruing it no lesse, then eyther Myrto the most excellent Poete
Theocritus his dearling, or Lauretta the diuine Petrarches Goddesse, or
Himera the worthye Poete Stesichorus hys Idole: Vlon whom he is sayd
so much to haue doted, that in regard of her excellencie, he scorned and
wrote against the beauty of Helena. For which his proesumptuous and
vnheedie hardinesse, he is sayde by vengeaunce of the Gods, thereat being
oflCded, to haue lost both his eyes.
Frenne) a stmunger. The word I thinke was first poetically put, and after-
warde vsed in commen custome of speach for forenne.
Dight) adorned. Laye) a songe. As Roundelayes and Virelayes. In ail
this songe is hot to be respected, what the worthinesse of her Maiestie 2oo
deserueth, nor what to the highnes of a Prince is agreeable, but what is
moste comely for the meanes of a shepheards witte, or to conceiue, or to
vtter. And therefore he calleth ber Elysa, as through rudenesse tripping
in her naine: and a shepheards daughter, it being very vnfit, that a shep-
heards boy brought vp in the shepefold, should know, or euer seine to haue
heard of a Queenes roialty.
Ye daintie) is, as it were an Exordium ad preparandos animos.
Virgins) the nine Muses, daughters of Apollo and Memorie, whose abode the
I3 wrethed Q t: wethered Qq2-4: witheredQy, F 8x Asl)¢he
as Q¢-3, F: A slithe, as Q4: AslitheaQ$ o meanesse
meannes Q 3" : meannesse F
APRILL. 43
Poets faine to be on Parnassus, a hill in Grece, for chat in chat countrye
specially florished the honor of ail excellent studies.
Helicon) is both the name of a fountaine at the foote of Parnassus, and also
of a mounteine in Boeotia, out of which floweth the famous Spring Castalius,
dedicate also to the Muses : of which spring it is sayd, chat when Pegasus
che winged horse of Perseus (whereby is meant lame and flying renowme)
strooke che grownde with his hoofe, sodenly thereout sprange a wel of
moste cleare and pleasaunte water, which fro thence forth was consecrate
to the Muses and l.adies of learning.
Your siluer song) seemeth to imitate the lyke in Hesiodus
8yrinx) is the name of a Nymphe of Arcadie, whom when Pan being in loue
pursued, she flying from him, of the Gods was turned into a reede. So 22o
that Pan catching at the Reedes in stede of the Damosell, and puffing hard
(for he was almost out of wind) with hys breath made the Reedes to pype :
which he seeing, tooke of them, and in remembraunce of his lost loue,
made him a pype thereof. But here by Pan and Syrinx is hOt to bee
thoughte, that the shephearde simplye meante those Poetical Gods: but
rather supposing (as seemeth) her graces progenie to be diuine and immortall
(so as che Paynims were wont to iudge of ail Kinges and Princes, accord-
ing to Homeres saying.
could deuise no parents in his iudgement so worthy for her, as Pan the
shepeheards God, and his best beloued 8yfinx. 8o chat by Pau is here
meant the most famous and victorious King, her highnesse Father, lace of
worthy memorye K. Henry the eyght. And by that name, oftymes (as
hereafter appeareth)be noted kings and mighty Potentates: And in some
place Christ himselfe, who is the verye Pan and god of 8hepheardes.
Cremosin coronet) he deuiseth her crowne to be of che finest and most delicate
flowers, instede of perles and precious stones, wherewith Princes Diademes
vse to bee adorned and embost.
Embellish) beautifye and set out. a4o
Phebe) the Moone, whom the Poets faine to be sister vnto Phoebus, that is the
8unne.
Medled) mingled.
Yfere) together. By the mingling of the Redde rose and the White, is meant
the vniting of the two principall houses of Lancaster and of Yorke: by
whose longe discord and deadly debate, this realm many yeares was sore
traueiled, and almost cleane decayed. Til the famous Henry the seuenth,
of the line of Lancaster, taking to wife che most vertuous Princesse
Elisabeth, daughter to the fourth Edward of che house of Yorke, begat the
a x 2 Beotia Q I: Boetia Q¢ 2C)" , F 2 2 5 simplye Q7 I-4 : plainly
Q.f, F a34 oftymes Q I: oftimes Q 2: oftentimes
Embellish) beautifye (¢ I, 2: Emblemish) beautifie (3 : Emblemish) beau-
tified Q 4 : Emblemisht) beautified Q.f : Embellisht, beautified F
Phoebus Q I: Phoebus Q9 a-.f, F
44 THE SI-] IIaH IARD P-,8
most royal Henry the eyght aforesayde, in whom was the firste vnion of the
Vhyte Rose and the Redde.
Cal[iope) one of the nine Muses : fo whome they assigne the honor of
Poetical Inuention, and the firste g[orye of the Heroicall verse. Other say,
that shee is the Goddesse of Rhetorick : but by Virgile it is manifeste, that
they mystake the thyng. For there in hys Epigrams, that arte semeth to
be attributed to Polymnia, saying :
Signat cuncta manu, loquiturque Polymnia gestu.
which seemeth specially to be meant of Action and elocution, both special
panes of Rhetorick : besyde that her naine, which (as some construe it)
importeth great remembraunce, conteineth another part. But I holde rather 26o
with them, which cll her Polymnia or Polyhymnia of her good singing.
Bay branches) be the signe of honor and victory, and therfore of myghty
Conquerors worn in theyr triumphes, and eke of famous Poets, as saith
Petrarch in hys Sonets.
Arbor vittoriosa triomphale,
Honor d' Imperadori & di Poëti, &c.
The Graces) be three sisters, the daughters of Iupiter, (whose names are
Aglaia, Thalia, Euphrosyne, and Homer onely addeth a fourth .s. Pasithea)
otherwise called Charites, that is thanks. Whom the Poetes feyned to be the
Goddesses of al bountie and comelines, which therefore (as sayth Theo-
dontius) they make three, to wete, that men first ought to be gracious and
bountiful to other freely, then to receiue benefits at other mens hands
curteously, and thirdly to requite them thankfully : which are three sundry
Actions in liberlitye. And Boccace saith, that they be painted naked, (as
they were indeede on the tombe of C. Iulius Coesar) the one hauing her
backe toward vs, and her face fromwarde, as proceeding from vs: the
other two toward vs, noting double thanke to be due to vs for the benefit,
we haue done.
Deaffly) Finelye and nimbly. Soote) Sweete. Meriment) Mirth.
Beuie) A beauie of Ladyes, is sFoken figuratiuely for a company or troupe. 8o
The terme is taken of Larkes. For they say a Beuie of Larkes, euen as a
Couey of Partridge, or an eye of Pheasaunts.
Ladyes of the lake) be Nymphes. For it was an olde opinion amongste the
Auncient Heathen, that of euery spring and fountaine was a goddesse the
Soueraigne. Whiche opinion stucke in the myndes of men not manye
yeares sithence, by meanes of certain fine fablers and lowd lyers, such as
were the Authors of King Arthure the great and such like, who tell many
an vnlawfull leasing of the Ladyes of the Lake, that is, the Nymphes.
For the word Nymphe in Greeke signifieth Well water, or otherwise
a Spouse or Bryde. 9 o
Behight) called or named.
Clor/s) the name of a Nymph, and signifieth greenesse, of whome is sayd,
255 thyng Qç r-3, F: king Qq 4, .f there in Qq r- 4 : there is in
2", F 270 bountie Qq r-3: beautie Qq 4, .f, F 27 x F oralts first
a77 due to vs Qq r- 4 : due Q )', F 29x Behight F: Bedight Qç r-.f
APRILL. 45
that Zephyrus the Westene wind being in loue with ber, and coueting her
to wyfe, gaue ber for a dowrie, the chiefedome and soueraigntye of al
flowres and greene herbes, growing on earth.
Oliues bene) The Oliue was wont to be the ensigne of Peace and quietnesse,
eyther for that it cannot be planted and pruned, and so carefully looked to,
as it ought, but in rime of peace : or els for that the Oliue tree, they say,
will hot growe neare the Firre tree, which is dedicate to Mars the God of
battaile, and vsed most for speares and other instruments of warre. Where- 3oo
upon is finely feigned, that when Neptune and Minerua stroue for the
naming of the citie of Athens, Neptune striking the ground with his mace,
caused a horse to corne forth, that importeth warre, but at Mineruaes stroke
sprong out an Oliue, to note that it should be a nurse of learning, and
such peaceable studies.
Binde your) Spoken rudely, and according to shepheardes simplicitye.
Bring) ail these be names of flowers. Sops in wine a flowre in colour much
like to a Coronation, but differing in smel and quantitye. Flowre delice,
that which they vse to misterme, Flowre de luce, being in Latine called
Flos delitiarum. 3Io
A Bellibone) or a BonibelL Homely spoken for a fayre mayde or Bonilasse.
Forswonck and forswatt) ouerlaboured and sunneburnt.
I saw Phoebus) the sunne. A sensible Narration, and present view of the
thing mentioned, which they call a-«p-i«.
Cynthia) the Moone so called of Cynthus a hyll, where she was honoured.
Latonaes seede) Was Apollo and Diana. Whom when as Niobe the wife of
Amphion scorned, in respect of the noble fruict of ber wombe, namely ber
seuen sonnes, and so many daughters, Latona being therewith displeased,
commaunded her sonne Phoebus to slea al the sonnes, and Diana ail the
daughters: whereat the vnfortunate Niobe being sore dismayed, and 32o
lamenting out of measure, was feigned of the Poetes, to be turned into
a stone vpon the sepulchre of her children. For which cause the shepheard
sayth, he will hot compare her to them, for feare of like mysfortune.
Now fise) is the conclusion. For hauing so decked her with prayses and
comparisons, he returneth ail the thanck of hys laboure to the excellencie of
ber Maiestie.
When Damsins) A base reward of a clownish gluer.
Yblent) Y, is a poeticall addition. Blent blinded.
Embleme.
This Poesye is taken out of Virgile, and there of him vsed in the person of 33 °
./Eneas to his mother Venus, appearing to him in likenesse of one of
Dianaes damosells: being there most diuinely set forth. To which
similitude of diuinitie Hobbinoll comparing the excelency of Elisa, and
being through the worthynes of Colins song, as it were, ouercome with the
hugenesse of his imagination, brusteth out in great admiration, (O quam te
3o8 Coronation Q I-4: Carnation Q.f, F 32I of the Qq ,r-4: by
the OE 5, F 323 of like mysfortune OEq I, a : of misfortune OEq 3-5, F
328 blinded OEç 1- 5 : blended F 33 ° of him OEç I- 3 : of himselfe OEç
4,5, F
46
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
memorem virgo ?) being otherwise vnhable, then by soddein silence, to
expresse the worthinesse of his conceipt. Whom Thenot answereth wkh
another part of the like verse, as confirming by his graunt and approuaunce,
that Elisa is no whit inferiour to the Maiestie of her, of whome that Poete
so boldly pronounced, O dea cette.
ARGVMENT.
Iet$i, fift F.glogue, vnater the /2er«on« of two «heheartl« Pitre and Palînoch'e,
reaOretented two forme« of pa«toure« or lklînLrter«, or the aOrote«tant and the
Catholique : who«e chiefe talke «tandeth in rea«oning, whether the lift of tbe one
rnu«t e lîke the other. IVith whom hauing hewed, that it if daungerou« to
rnainteine any felow«hlp, or giue too rnuch credit fo thelr colourale and feyned good-
will, he tdlêth him a talc of the foxe, that hy «uch a counter/2oynt-f craftinet
deceiued and deuoured the credulou« kidde.
PALINODE. PIERS.
S hOt thi]ke the mery moneth of May,
-When loue lads masken in fresh aray?
ARc. fift Q.f, F: firste Q 1- 4 persons Q 1- 4 : person Q.f, F
thilke.., moneth Q¢ 1-4: this.., month Qj', F
MAYE.
47
How falles it then, we no merrier bene,
Ylike as others, girt in gawdy greene ?
Our bloncket liueryes bene ail to sadde,
For thilke same season, when ail is ycladd
With pleasaunce: the grownd with grasse, the Woods
With greene leaues, the bushes with bloosming Buds.
Yougthes folke now flocken in euery where,
To gather ma), buskets and smelling brere : xo
And home they hasten the postes to dight»
And all the Kirke pillours eare day light,
With Hawthorne buds, and swete Eglantine»
And girlonds of roses and Sopps in wine.
Such merimake holy Saints doth queme,
But we here sytten as drownd in a dreme.
PIERS.
For Younkers Palinode such follies fitte,
But we tway bene men of elder witt.
PALINODE.
Sicker this morrowe» ne lenger agoe»
I sawe a shole of shepeheardes outgoe, 2o
With singing, and shouting, and iolly chere:
Before them ),ode a lusty Tabrere,
That to the many a Home pype playd,
Whereto they dauncen eche one with his mayd.
To see those folkes make such iouysaunce,
Made my heart after the pype to daunce.
Tho to the greene Wood they speeden hem all,
To fetchen home Ma), with their musicall :
And home they bringen in a royall throne»
Crowned as king: and his Qeene attone 3o
Was Lady Flora, on whom did attend
A fayre flocke of Faeries» and a fresh bend
4 Ylike Q¢ z, a, F: Ylke Q¢3-5 5 to sadde Q¢ z-4: too sad
Q.f, F 7, 8 woods ... buds Q.f, F: Wods... Buds ç z- 3 : Woods
.. Boods Q 4 8 bloosming Q¢ z-3 : blossoming Q¢ 4, .f, F 9
Yougthes Q : Youghthes Q¢ a- 4 : Youthes Q.f, F 19 ne lenger
Q , a: no lenger Q¢ 3, 4 : no longer Q .f, F 23 many Q¢ -1:
manie Q 4 : meynie Q $, F 25 those Qq -4 : these Q .f, F
48
THE SHEPHEAKDt5 t&LtXtr.
Oflouely Nymphs. (0 that I were there,
To helpen the Ladyes their Maybush beare)
Ah Piers, bene not thy teeth on edge, to thinke,
How great sport they gaynen with little swinck ?
PIERS.
Perdie so farre ara I from enuie,
That their fondnesse inly I pitie.
Those faytours little regarden their charge,
While they letting their sheepe runne at large, 40
Passen their time, that should be sparely spent,
In lustihede and wanton meryment.
Thilke saine bene shepeheards for the Deuils stedde,
That playen, while their flockes be vnfedde.
Well is it seene, theyr sheepe bene hot their owne,
That letten them runne at randon alone.
But they bene hyred for litde pay
Of other, that caren as little as they,
What fallen the flocke, so they ban the fleece,
And get all the gayne, paying but a peece. 5o
I muse, what accourir both these will make,
The one for the hire, which he doth take,
And thother for leauing his Lords taske,
When great Pari account of shepeherdes shall aske.
PALINODE.
Sicker now I see thou speakest of spight,
AI/for thou lackest somedele their delight.
I (as I ara) had rather be enuied,
Ail were it of my foe, then fonly pitied :
And yet if neede were, pitied would be,
Rather, then other should scorne at me: 60
For pittied is mishappe, that nas remedie,
But scorned bene dedes of fond foolerie.
35 bene hot Qç 1- 4 : beene Q 2-, F 3 6 swinke ? Q 2", F: swinck.
Qq 1-4 42 lustihede Qq 1-4: lustinesse Q j', F 45 is it Qq I, 2:
it is Qq.t-f, F bene Qq I, a : be Qq 1, 4 -" is Q)-, F 5, account
Qq I, a, $, F: accompt Qq 3, 4 54 great Q$, F: gread Qq t- 4 shall
Qq I, a, F: should Qq 3-.f
MAYE.
49
What shoulden shepheards other things tend,
Then sith their God his good does them send,
Reapen the fruite thereof, that is pleasure,
The while they here liuen, at ease and leasure ?
For when they bene dead, their good is ygoe,
They sleepen in rest, well as other moe.
Tho with them wends, what they spent in cost,
But what they left behind them, is lost. o
Good is no good, but if it be spend:
God giueth good for none other end.
PIERS.
Ah Palinodie, thou art a worldes childe:
Who touches Pitch mought needes be defilde.
But shepheards (as Algrind vsed to say,)
Mought hOt liue ylike, as men of the laye:
With them it sits to care for their heire,
Enaunter their heritage doe impaire:
They must prouide for meanes of maintenaunce,
And to continue their wont countenaunce. 8o
But shepheard must walke another way,
Sike worldly souenance he must foresay.
The sonne of his loines why should he regard
To leaue enriched with that he hath spard ?
Should hot thilke God, that gaue him that good,
Eke cherish his child, if in his wayes he stood?
For if he misliue in leudnes and lust,
Little bootes all the wehh and the trust,
That his father left by inheritaunce :
AIl will be soone wasted with misgouernaunce. 9o
But through this, and other their miscreaunce,
They maken many a wrong cheuisaunce,
Heaping vp waues of welth and woe,
The floddes whereof shall them ouerflowe.
Sike mens follie I cannot compare
Better, then to the Apes folish care,
That is so enamoured of ber young one,
(And yet God wote, such cause hath she none)
67 bene Qq i-4: be Q., F 82 worldly Qq 2-2-, F: wordly Q
souenance Q , 2, F: sauenance Qq3-g 83 should he Qq , g, F:
he should Q9 2-4 96 folish Qq , 2 : foolish Qq 3-5, F
50 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
That with her hard hold, and straight embracing,
She stoppeth the breath of ber youngling, roo
So often times, when as good is meant,
Euil ensueth of wrong entent.
The time was once, and may againe retorne,
(For ought may happen, that hath bene beforne)
When shepeheards had none inheritaunce,
Ne of land, nor fee in sufferaunce :
But what might arise of the bare sheepe,
(Were it more or lesse) which they did keepe.
Well ywis was it with shepheards thoe:
Nought hauing, nought feared they to forgoe.
For Pan himselfe was their inheritaunce,
_And little them serued for their mayntenaunce.
The shepheards God so wel them guided,
That of nought they were vnprouided,
Butter enough, honye, milke, and whay,
_And their flockes fleeces, them to araye.
But tract of time, and long prosperitie :
That nource of vice, this of insolencie,
Lulled the shepheards in such securitie,
That hOt content with loyall obeysaunce, x2o
Some gan to gape for greedie gouernaunce,
And match them selle with mighty potentates,
Louers of Lordship and troublers of states :
Tho gan shepheards swaines to looke a loft,
And leaue to liue hard, and learne to ligge soft:
Tho wader colour of shepeheards, somewhile
There crept in Wolues, ful of fraude and guile,
That often deuoured their owne sheepe,
And often the shepheards, that did hem keepe.
This was the first sourse of shepheards sorowe, 3o
That now nill be quitt with balle, nor borrowe.
PALINODE.
Three thinges to beare, bene very" burdenous,
But the fourth to forbeare, is outragious.
04 ought (.Qq z-j- : oft F 09 with Qq z- 4 : with the Q )', F I 3
shepheards Qq a-.,r, F: shephears Q z i i6 flockes Qq 1-4 : flocke Q)-,
F x z 3 Lordship Qq 1-4: Lordships Q j-, F z 9 hem Qç r, a:
him Qq3, 4: them Q ', F
MAYE.
5 1
Wemen that of Loues longing once lust,
Hardly forbearen, but haue it they must:
So when choler is inflamed with rage,
Wanting reuenge, is hard to asswage:
And who can counsell a thristie soule,
With patience to forbeare the offred bowle ?
But of all burdens, that a man can beare,
Moste is, a fooles talke to beare and to heare.
I wene the Geaunt has hOt such a weight,
That beares on his shoulders the heauens height.
Thou findest faulte, where nys to be round,
And buildest strong warke vpon a weake ground:
Thou raylest on right withouten reason,
And blamest hem much, for small encheason.
How shoulden shepheardes liue, if" hot so ?
What? should they pynen in payne and woe ?
Nay sayd I thereto, by my deare borrowe,
If I may rest, I nill liue in sorrowe.
Sorrowe ne neede be hastened on:
For he will corne without calling anone.
While rimes enduren of tranquillitie,
Usen we freely our felicitie.
For when approchen the stormie stowres,
We mought with our shoulders beare of the sharpe showres.
And sooth to sayne, nought seemeth sike strife,
That shepheardes so witen ech others lire,
And layen her faults the world beforne, I6O
The while their foes done eache of hem scorne.
Let none mislike of that may not be mended:
So conteck soone by concord mought be ended.
PIERS.
Shepheard, I list none accordaunce make
With shepheard, that does the right way forsake.
34 Wemen Q I- 4 : Women Q 5, F 138 thristie Q 1 : thirstie Qq
z-)', F 46 withouten Qq I, 2: without Qq3-.¢, F 48 shoulden
Q..q l-j: woulden Qq 4, 5, F 5o sayd Qq i-4: saie Q S: say F
159 witen
hem Qq 1- 4 : them QS, F 6z mended Qq I, : amended Qq3-5, F
64 none Qq I, g: no Qq3-5, F
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
And of the twaine, if choice were to me,
Had leuer my foe, then my freend he be.
For what concord han light and darke sam ?
Or what peace has the Lion with the Lambe ?
Such faitors, when their false harts bene hidde.
Will doe, as did the Foxe by the Kidde.
PALINODE.
Now Piers, of felowship, tell vs that saying:
For the Ladde can keepe both our flocks from straying.
PIERS.
Hilke same Kidde (as I can well deuise)
Was too very foolish and vnwise.
For on a tyme in Sommer season,
The Gare her dame, that had good reason,
Yode forth abroade vnto the greene wood,
To brouze, or play, or what shee thought good.
But for she had a motherly care
Of her young sonne, and wit to beware,
Shee set her youngling before her knee,
That was both fresh and louely to see,
And full of fauour, as kidde mought be:
His Vellet head began to shoote out,
And his wrethed hornes gan newly sprout:
The blossomes of lust to bud did beginne,
And spring forth ranckly vnder his chinne.
My sonne (quoth she) (and with that gan weepe:
For carefull thoughts in her heart did creepe)
God blesse thee poore Orphane, as he mought me,
And send thee ioy of thy iollitee.
Thy father (that word she spake with payne:
For a sigh had nigh rent her heart in twaine)
Thy father, had he liued this day,
To see the braunche of his body displaie,
'7 7 Gate Qq r- 4 : Goat QS, F reason, Q -, F: reason. Qq -4, F
18 5 Vellet Qq r-3: .eluet Qq 4, 5, F 86 wrethed Qq i, 2, 5:
wretched Qq3, 4: wreathed F 88 spring Qq i-4: sprung Q 5, F
192 iollitee. Qq i-5, F oraitfull stop 96 braunche Qq i- 3 : branches
ç4,5, F
MAYE.
53
How would he haue ioyed at this sweete sight ?
But ah false Fortune such ioy did him spight,
And cutte of hys dayes with vntimely woe,
Betraying him into the traines of hys foe. zoo
Now I a waylfull widdowe behight,
Of my old age haue this one delight,
To see thee succeede in thy fathers steade,
And florish in flowres of lusty head.
For euen so thy father his head vpheld,
And so his hauty hornes did he weld.
Tho marking him with melting eyes,
A thrilling throbbe from her hart did aryse,
And interrupted all her other speache,
With some old sorowe, that made a newe breache: 2to
Seemed shee sawe in the younglings face
The old lineaments of his fathers grace.
At last her solein silence she broke,
And gan his newe budded beard to stroke.
Kiddie (quoth shee) thou kenst the great care,
I haue of thy health and thy welfare,
Which many wyld beastes liggen in waite,
For to entrap in thy tender state:
But most the Foxe, maister of collusion:
For he has voued thy last confusion. 220
For thy my Kiddie be ruld by mee,
And neuer giue trust to his trecheree.
And if he chaunce corne, when I am abroade,
Sperre the yate fast for feare of fraude:
Ne for all his worst, aor for his best,
Open the dore at his request.
So schooled the Gate her wanton sonne,
That answerd his mother, all should be done,
Tho went the pensife Damme out of dore,
And chaunst to stomble at the threshold flore: 230
Her stombling steppe some what her amazed,
(For such, as signes of ill luck bene dispraised)
208 thrilling Qq ,r-3, F: thirling Qq 4, 5 21 t in the younglings face
{q t, 2 : in (the younglings face Qq 3, 4 : (in the yonglings face) Q 5: F
ai QS» but hera/br the 2 3 solein Q9 I, 2: soleine Q93, 4: sullein
Q$: sul|en F 214 stroke. Q 1- 5, Fomitfullaot 227 Gare Qq
1- 4 : goate QS, F 229 Damme Qq t-j : ])ame Qq 4, 5, F 232
bene Qq t-4 : hath beene Q 5, F
54 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Yet forth shee yode thereat halle aghast:
And Kiddie the dore sperred after her fast.
It was hOt long, after shee was gone,
But the false Foxe came to the dore anone:
Not as a Foxe, for then he had be kend,
But all as a poore pedler he did wend,
Bearing a trusse of tryfles at hys backe,
As bells, and babes, and glasses in hys packe. 240
A Biggen he had got about his braine,
For in his headpeace he felt a sore payne.
His hinder heele was wrapt in a clout,
For with great cold he had gotte the gout.
There at the dore he cast me downe hys pack,
And layd him downe, and groned, Alack, Alack.
Ah deare Lord, and sweete Saint Charitee,
That some good body woulde once pitie mee.
Well heard Kiddie al this sore constraint,
And lengd to know the cause of his complaint: 250
Tho creeping close behind the Wickets clinck,
Preuilie he peeped out through a chinck:
Yet hOt so preuilie, but the Foxe him spyed:
For deceifull meaning is double eyed.
Ah good young maister (then gan he crye)
Iesus blesse that sweete face, I espye,
And keepe your corpse from the carefull stounds,
That in my carrion carcas abounds.
The Kidd pittying hys heauinesse,
Asked the cause of his great distresse, a6o
And also who, and whence that he were.
Tho he, that had well ycond his lere,
Thus medled his talke with many a teare,
Sicke, sicke, alas, and litde lack of dead,
But I be relieued by your beastlyhead.
I am a poore Sheepe, albe my coloure donne:
For with long traueile I ara brent in the sonne.
238 wend, Qq_r-4: wend. Q)-: wend: F z4o babes Qql-4:
babies Q)-, F 25z Preuilie Qq af-4: Priuily Q)-, F 26x were.
Q.f, F: were, Qq-4 264 and litde Qq ,r_j: a litle Qq 4,)', F
65 beastlyhead Qq _r-./: beastly head Qq 4, y : beastlie-head F
MAYE.
And if that my Grandsire me sayd, be true,
Sicker I am very sybbe to you:
So be your goodlihead doe hOt disdayne 270
The base kinred of so simple swaine.
Of mercye and fauour then I you pray,
With your ayd to forstall my neere decay.
Tho out of his packe a glasse he tooke:
Whereirl while kiddie vnwares did looke,
He was so enamored with the newell,
That nought he deemed deare for the iewell.
Tho opened he the dore, and in came
The false Foxe, as he were starke lame.
His tayle he clapt betwixt his legs twayne, 280
Lest he should be descried by his trayne.
Being within, the Kidde made him good glee,
All for the loue of the glasse he did see.
After his chere the Pedler can chat,
And tell many lesings of this, and that:
And how he could shewe many a fine knack.
Tho shewed his ware, and opened his packe,
AI1 saue a bell, which he left behind
In the bas-ket for the Kidde to fynd.
Which when the Kidde stooped downe to catch, 290
He popt him in, and his basket did latch,
Ne stayed he once, the dore to make fast,
But ranne awaye with him in ail hast.
Home when the doubtfull Damme had her hyde,
She mought see the dore stand open wyde.
Ail agtst, lowdly she gan to call
Her Kidde." but he nould answere at ai1.
Tho on the flore she sawe the merchandise,
Of which her sonne had sette to dere a prise.
What helpe? her Kidde shee knewe well was gone:
Shee weeped, and wayled, and made great mone. 3oi
Such end had the Kidde, for he nould warned be
Of craft, coloured with simplicitie:
288 left Q , F: had left Qq -5 300 was Qq z, : is O.q3-5, F
56
THE SHEPHEARDES ÇALEINDN..
And such end perdie does a_ll hem remayne,
That of such falsers freendship bene fayne.
PALINODI E.
Truly Piers, thou art beside thy wit,
Furthest fro the marke, weening it to hit,
Now I pray thee, lette me thy tale borrowe
For our sir Iohn, to say to morrowe
At the Kerke, when it is holliday:
For well he meanes, but litde can say.
But and if Foxes bene so crafty, as so,
Much needeth all shepheards hem to knowe.
PIERS.
Of their falshode more could 1 recourir.
But now the bright Sunne gynneth to dismount:
And for the deawie night now doth nye,
I hold it best for vs, home to hye.
Palinodes Embleme.
Piers his Embleme.
GLOSSE.
Thilke) this same moneth. Itis applyed to the season of the moneth, when
ail menne delight them selues with pleasaunce of fieldes, and gardens, and
garments.
131oncket liueries) gray coates. Yclad) arrayed, Y, redoundeth, as before.
In euery where) a straunge, yet proper kind of speaking.
Buskets) a I)irninutiue .s. little bushes of hauthorne.
Kirke) church. Queme) please.
A shole) a multitude ; taken of fishe, whereof some going in great companies, 330
are sayde to swimme in a shole.
Yode) went. louyssance) ioye. Swinck) labour.
Inly) emirely. Faytours) vagabonds.
Great pan) is Christ, the very God of ail shepheards, which calleth himselfe
the greate and good shepherd. The name is most rightly {me thinkes)
applyed to him, for Pan signifieth ail or omnipotent, which is onely the Lord
Iesus. And by that naine {as I remernber} he is called of Eusebius in his
33 hem Q I, F: him Qq 2-)" 36 doth Qq -4: draw'th Q)', F
MAYE. 57
fifre booke de Preparat. Euang ; who tlaereof telletla a proper storye fo that
purpose. Which story is first recorded of Plutarch, in his booke of the
ceasing of oracles, and of Lauetere translated, in his booke of walking 34o
sprightes. Wlao sayth, that about the saine rime, that out Lord suffered lais
most bitter passion for the redemtion of man, certein passengers sayling from
Italy to Cyprus and passing by certain lies called Paxe, laeard a voyce
calling alowde Thamus, Tlaamus, (now Thamus was the naine of an
2Egyptian, which ",vas Pilote of tlae ship,) who giuing eare to tlae cry, was
bidden, when he came to Palodes, to tel, that the great Pan was dead : which
he doubting to doe, yet for tlaat when lae came to Palodes, tlaere sodeinly was
such a calme of winde, that the shippe stoode still in the sea vnmoued, lae was
forced to cry alowd, that Pari was dead : wherewithall there was laeard suclae
piteous outcryes and dreadfull slariking, as hath hot bene the like. By wlaycla 35o
Pari, tlaough of some be vnderstoode the great Satanas, wlaose kingdome at tlaat
time was by Clarist conquered, tlae gates of hell broken vp, and death by death
deliuered to eternall death, (for at that time, as lae saytla, all Oracles surceased,
and enchaunted spirits, tlaat were wont to delude the people, thencefortla held
theyr Peace) and also at the demaund of the Emperoure Tiberius, who that
Pan should be, answere was made him by the wisest and best learned, that it
was the sonne of Mercurie and Penelope, yet I think it more properly meant
of the death of Christ, the onely and very Pan, then suffering for his flock.
I as I am) seemetla to imitate tlae commen prouerb, Malim Inuidere mihi
otaries quam miserescere. 36o
Nas) is a syncope, for ne has, or laas hot : as nould, for would hot.
Tho with them) dotla imitate the Epitaphe of the ryotous king Sardanapalus,
whycla caused to be written on his tombe in Greeke : whicla verses be thus
translated by Tullie.
,, HOec habui quoe edi, quoeque exaturata libido
,, Hausit, at illa manent rouira ac proeclara relicta.
wlaich may thus be turned into English.
,, AI! tlaat I eate did I ioye, and ail that I greedily gorged :
,, As for tlaose many goodly matters left I for others.
Much like the Epitaph of a good olde Erle of Deuonshire, wlaicla though 37o
much more wisedome bewraieth, then Sardanapalus, yet laath a smacke of
lais sensuall delights and beastlinesse. Tlae rymes be these.
,, Ho, Ho, who lies here ?
,, I the good Erle of Deuonshere,
,, And Maulde my wife, that was fui deare,
,, We liued together Iv. yeare.
,, That we spent, we laad:
,, That we gaue, we laaue :
,, That we lefte, we lost.
Algrind) tlae naine of a slaeplaeard. Men of the Lay) Lay men. 38o
Enaunter) least that.
34o oracles, QçI, 3: Itacles, Qç2, 4: miracles: Q.f, F 34 z pas-
sengers Qq I-4 : Persons Q.f, F 38o 41grind Q.f, F: 41grim Qç I-4
5 8 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Souenaunce} remembraunce. Miscreaunce} despeire or misbeliefe.
Cheuisaunce) sometime of Chaucer vsed for gaine: sometime of other for
spoyle, or bootie, or enterprise, and sometime for chiefdome.
Pan himselfe} God. According as is sayd in Deuteronomie, That in diuision
of the lande of Canaan, to the tribe of Leuie no portion of heritage should
bee allotted, for GOD himselfe was their inheritaunce.
Some gan} meant of the Pope, and his Antichristian prelates, which vsurpe
a tyrannical dominion in the Churche, and with Peters counterfet keyes,
open a wide gate to al wickednesse and insolent gouernment. Nought here 39'
spoken, as of purpose to deny fatherly fuie and godly gouernaunce (as some
malitiously of late haue done to the great vnreste and hinderaunce of the
Churche} but to displaye the pride and disorder of such, as in steede of
feeding their sheepe, indeede feede of theyr sheepe.
Sourse} welspring and originall. 13orrowe pledge or suertie.
The Geaunte) is the greate Atlas, whom the poetes feign to be a huge geaunt,
that beareth Heauen on his shoulders : being in deede a merueilous highe
mountaine in Mauritanla, that now is Barbarie, which to mans seeming
perceth the cloudes, and seemeth to touch the heauens. Other thinke, and
they not amisse, that this fable was meant of one Atlas king of the saine 4oc
countrye, (of whome may bee, that that hil had his denomination) brother to
Prometheus who (as the Grekes say) did first fynd out the hidden courses
of the starres, by an excellent imagination. Wherefore the poetes feigned,
that he susteyned the firmament on hys shoulders. Many other conjectures
needelesse be told hereof.
Warke) worke. Encheason) cause, occasion.
Deare borow)that is our sauiour, the commen pledge of ail mens debts to
death.
Wyten) blame. Nought seemeth) is vnseemely. Conteck) stfife contention.
Her) theyr, as vseth Chaucer. Han) for haue. Sam) together.
This tale is much like to that in _/Esops fables, but the Catastrophe and end is
farre different. 13y the Kidde may be vnderstoode the simple sorte of the
faythfull and true Christians. 13y hys dame Christe, that hath alreadie
with carefull watchewords (as heere doth the gote) wamed his little ones,
to beware of such doubling deceit. By the Foxe, the false and faithlesse
Papistes, to whom is no credit to be giuen, nor felowshippe to be vsed.
The gare) the Gote: Northernely spoken to turne O into A.
Yode) went. Afforesayd.
She set) A figure called Fictio. Which vseth to attribute reasonable actions
and speaches to vnreasonable creatures. 42¢
The bloosmes of lust) be the young and mossie heares, which then beginne to
sproute and shoote foorth, when lustfull heate beginneth to kindle.
And with) A very Poeticall
382 despeire Q I: dispaire Qq 2- 4 : dispraise Q-f, F 391 Qq
F ornit godly 4oi countrye . . . courses Qq I, 2 : countrey, (who as the
Greekes say) did first finde out the hidden courses Qq 3, 4. So Q-f, F, but
vitb who (asJr (who as 4o9 ,Vyten Qq I-.f: Twiten F 413 dame
Qq l, 2 : damme Qq 3--f, F 4I 4 hys Q I: her Qq a--f, F 423
'trd0of] n'a$tf Q I : Pathos Qq 2, 3, -f, F: Patdos Q 4
MAYE. 59
Orphane) A youngling or pupill, that needeth a Tutour and gouernour.
That word) A patheticall parenthesis, to encrease a carefull Hyperbaton.
The braunchJ of the fathers body, is the child.
For euen so) Alluded to the saying of Andromache to Ascanius in Virgile.
Sic oculos, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat.
A thrilling throb) a percing slghe. Liggen) lye.
Maister of collusion) .s. coloured guile, because the Foxe of al beasts is most 43o
wily and crafty.
Sperre the yate) shut the dore.
For such) The gotes stombling is here noted as an euill signe. The like to
be marked in ail histories: and that not the leaste of the Lorde Hastingues
in king Rycharde the third his dayes. For beside his daungerous dreame
(whiche was a shrewde prophecie of his mishap, that folowed) it is sayd
that in the morning ryding toward the tower of London, there to sitte Vplmn
matters of counsell, his horse stombled tvise or thrise by the way : v¢hich
of some, that ryding with hym in his company, were priuie to his neere
destenie, was secretly marked, and afterward noted for memorie of his 44o
great mishap, that ensewed. For being then as merye, as man might be,
and least doubting any mortall daunger, he was within two howres after,
of the Tyranne put to a shamefull deathe.
As belles) by such trifles are noted, the reliques and ragges of popish super-
stition, which put no smal religion in Belles: and Babies .s. Idoles: and
glasses .s. Paxes, and such lyke trumperies.
Great cold.) For they boast much of their outward patience, and vohntarye
sufferaunce as a worke of merite and holy humblenesse.
Sweete S. Charitie. The Catholiques comen othe, and onely speache, to
haue charitye alwayes in their mouth, and sometime in their outward Actions, 45o
bat neuer inwardly in fayth and godly zeale.
Clincke.) a key hole. Whose diminutiue is clicket, vsed of Chaucer for a Key.
Stoundes) titres: aforesayde. His lere) his lesson. Medled) mingled.
Bestlihead.) agreeing to the person of a beast. Sibbe.) of kynne.
Newell) a newe thing. To forestall} to proeuent. Glee) chere, afforesayde.
Deare a price.) his lyfe, which he lost for those toyes.
Such ende) is an Epiphonema, or rather the morall of the whole tale, whose
purpose s to warne the protestaunt beware, howe he geueth credit to the
vnfaythfull Catholique: whereof we haue dayly proofes sufficient, but one
moste famous of ail, practised of Late yeares in Fraunce by Charles the nynth. 46o
Fayne) gladde or desyrous.
Out sir lohn) a Popishe priest. A saying fit for the grosenesse of a shepheard,
but spoken to taunte vnlearned Priestes.
Dismount) descende or set. Nye) draweth nere.
Embleme.
Both these Emblemes make one whole Hexametre. The first spoken of
Palinodie, as in reproche of them, that be distrustfull, is a pe, ce of
443 Tyranne Q : tyraunt Qq 2-4. : tyrant Q 5, F 454 of kynne Qq
I-4 : a kinne Q 5, F 460 in Fraunce Qq I, 2 : oto. Qq 3-5, F
60 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Theognis verse, intending, that who doth most mistrust is most false. For
such experience in falsehod breedeth mistrust in the mynd, thinking no lesse
guile to lurke in others, then in hymsdfe. But Piers thereto strongly 4î
replyeth with another peece of the saine verse, saying as in his former
fable, what fayth then is there in the faythlesse. For if fayth be the
ground of religion, which fayth they dayly false, what hold then is there of
theyr religion. And thys is ail that they saye.
lune.
/Egloga sexta.
ARGVMENT.
Tïi« xEg/ogue is wo/ly vo¢ued to te complayning of Co/;ns iii succe«se in
ig loue. For bting (ai is ortIaid) tnamourtd ( a Country large
Rosalind and auing (a seet) un& ple in er eart, e mentet to is
deare frend Hob»inoll, tat e is nowe formken vaitful, and in is steede
3[enalcas, anoter teard receluM Ssloyal. nd ti i te wole rgument
tis glogue.
HOBBINOL. COLIN CLOVTE.
O Colin, here the place, whose pleasaunt syte
From other shades bath weand my wandring mynde.
Tell me, what wants me here, to worke delyte ?
The simple ayre, the genfle warbling nde,
, syte Qq 1, u : sight Qq 3-Y, F z hath Qq 1-4, F: hase Q y 3
delyte Qq , u : delight Qq 3-, F
IVNE. 6I
So calme, so coole, as no where dse I fynde:
The grassye ground with daintye Daysies dight,
The Bramble bush, where Byrds of euery kynde
To the waters fall their tunes attemper right.
COLLIN.
O happy Hobbinoll, I blesse thy state,
That Paradise hast found, whych z¢dam lost. o
Here wander may thy flock early or late,
Withouten dreade of Wolues to bene ytost:
Thy louely layes here mayst thou freely boste.
But I vnhappy man, whom cruell fate,
And angry Gods pursue from coste to coste,
Can nowhere fynd, to shroude my lucklesse pare.
HOBBINOLL.
Then if by me thou list aduised be,
Forsake the soyle, that so doth the bewitch :
Leaue me those hilles, where harbrough nis to see,
Nor holybush, nor brere, nor winding witche: 2o
And to the dales resort, where shepheards ritch,
And fruictfull flocks bene euery where to see.
Here no night Rauens lodge more black then pitche,
Nor eluish ghosts, nor gastJy owles doe flee.
But frendly Faeries, met with many Graces,
And lightfote Nymphes can chace the lingring night,
With Heydeguyes, and trimly trodden traces,
Whilst systers nyne, which dwell on Parnasse hight,
Doe make them musick, for their more delight:
And Pan himselfe to kisse their christall faces, 30
Will pype and daunce, when Phoebe shi,eth bright:
Such pierlesse pleasures haue we in these places.
COLLIN.
And I, whylst youth, a,d course of carelesse yeeres
Did let me walke withouten lincks of loue,
I I early Qq z-4, F: or early Q)- I 3 boste. Qq t-4 : boste, Q)-:
boste : F x 6 shroud F: shouder Qq I-)- 18 the soyle Qq z-4 : thy
soyle Qf, F ux shipheardes Q I z3 Rauens F: Rauene Qq I, 2 :
Rauen Qq 3-)" z 7 Heydeguyes Qq z- 4 : Heydeguyues Q )" : heydegiues F
6oE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
In such ddights did ioy amongst my peeres:
But ryper age such pleasures doth reproue,
My fancye eke from former follies moue
To stayed steps: for time in passing weares
(As garments doen, which wexen old aboue)
And draweth newe delightes with hoary heares. 4o
Tho couth I sing of loue, and tune my pype
Vnto my plaintiue pleas in verses made:
Tho would I seeke for Qeene apples vnrype,
To giue my Rosalind, and in Sommer shade
Dight gaudy Girlonds, was my comen trade,
To crowne her golden locks, but yeeres more rype,
And losse of her, whose loue as lyfe I wayd,
Those weary wanton toyes away dyd wype.
HOBBINOLL.
Colin, to heare thy rymes and roundelayes,
Which thou were wont on wastfull hylls to singe,
I more delight, then larke in Sommer dayes:
Whose Echo made the neyghbour groues to ring,
And taught the byrds, which in the lower spring
Did shroude in shady leaues from sonny rayes,
Frame to thy songe their chereful cheriping,
Or hold theyr peace, for shame of thy swete layes.
I sawe Calliope wyth Muses moe,
Soone as thy oaten pype began to sound,
Theyr yuory Luyts and Tamburins forgoe :
And from the fountaine, where they sat around, 60
Renne after hastely thy siluer sound.
But when they came, where thou thy skill didst showe,
They drewe abacke, as halfe with shame confound,
Shepheard to see, them in theyr art outgoe.
COLLIN.
Of Muses Hobbinol, I conne no skill :
For they bene daughters of the hyghest Ioue,
38 steps : F: steps Qq i- 5 45 comen Qq I, 2 : common Qq ]-5, F
58 thy Q i, F: the Qq 2- 59 Tamburins Qq -3: Timburins
5, F 63 drewe Qq -3, F: drawe Qq.4, 66 daughters Qq , .-,
F: daughter Q 2
IVNE. 63
And holden scorne of homely shepheards quill.
For sith I heard, that Pan with Phcbus stroue,
Which him to much rebuke and Daunger droue:
I neuer lyst presume to Parnasse hyll, 70
But pyping lowe in shade of lowly groue,
I play to please my selle, all be it ill.
Nought weigh I, who my song doth prayse or blame,
Ne striue to winne renowne, or passe the rest:
With shepheard sittes not, followe flying lame:
But feede his flocke in fidds, where falls hem best.
I wote my rymes bene rough, and rudely drest:
The fytter they, my carefull case to frame:
Enough is me to paint out my vnrest,
And poore my piteous plaints out in the same. 8o
The God of shepheards -ïtyrus is dead,
Who taught me homely, as I can, to make.
He, whilst he liued, was the soueraigne head
Of shepheards ail, that bene with loue ytake:
Well couth he wayle hys Woes, and lightly slake
The flames, which loue within his heart had bredd,
And tell vs mery tales, to keepe vs wake,
The while our sheepe about vs safely fedde.
Nowe dead he is, and lyeth wrapt in lead,
(O why should death on hym such outrage showe ?) 9o
And all hys passing skil with him is fledde,
The faine whereof doth dayly greater growe.
But if on me some litde drops would flowe,
Of that the spring was in his learned hedde,
I soone would learne these woods, to wayle my woe,
And teache the trees, their trickling teares to shedde.
Then should my plaints, causd of discurtesee,
As ,nessengers of all my painfull plight,
Flye to my loue, where euer that she bee,
And pierce her heart with poynt of worthy wight: oo
74 winne Qq 1-3, F: winnes, Q 4 : winne, Qy 75 followe Qq 1-4,
F: flowing (Q)" 89 Now dead he is, &c. Tbis «tanza i« omittedfrom Q5
and F. 95 woods Qq 1, 3-g, F: words Q 2 98 of ail my painfull
Q z: of my plainful Q 2 : of my plaineful Qq 3, 4: of my painful Q )-, F
64
THE SHEPHEARDES CALEND..
As shee deserues, that wrought so deadly spight.
And thou Malcas, that by trecheree
Didst vnderfong my lasse, to wexe so light,
Shouldest well be knowne for such thy villanee.
But since I am not, as I wish I were,
Ye gentle shepheards, which your flocks do feede,
Whether on hylls, or dales, or other where,
Beare witnesse all of thys so wicked deede :
And tell the lasse, whose flowre is woxe a weede,
And faultlesse fayth, is turned to faithlesse fere,
That she the truest shepheards hart made bleede,
That lyues on earth, and loued ber most dere.
HOBBINOL.
O carefull Colin, I lament thy case,
Thy teares would make the hardest flint to flowe.
Ah faithlesse Rosalind, and voide of grace,
That art the roote of all this ruthfull woe.
But now is rime, I gesse, homeward to goe :
Then ryse ye blessed flocks, and home apace,
Least night with stealing steppes doe you forsloe,
And wett your tender Lambes, that by you trace.
Colins Embleme.
Gia speme spenta.
GLOSSE.
Syte) situation and place.
Paradise) A Paradise in Greeke signifleth a Garden of pleasure, or place of
delights. So he compareth the soile, wherin Hobbinoll ruade hls abode,
to that earthly Paradise, in scripture called Eden ; wherein Adam in his first
creation was placed. Which of the most learned is thought to Ix in Meso-
potamia, the most fertile and pleasaunte country in the world (as may apFeare
by Diodorus Syculus description of it, in the hystorie of Alexanders conquest
thereof) lying betweene the two famous Ryuers (which are sayd in
scripture to flowe out of Paradise) Tygris and Euphrates, whereof it is so
denominate.
Forsake the soyle) This is no poetical fiction, but vnfeynedly spoken of the
x 26 compareth Q : compared
4, .f, F: thereof.) Lying Q : thereof.) Lieng Q 2: thereof) lieng Q3
1VNE. d 5
loete selle, whÇ for speciall occasion of priuate affayres (as I hane bene
partly of himselfe informed) and for his more preferment remouing out ofthe
Northparts came into the South, as Hobbinoll indeede aduised him priuately.
Those hylles} that is the North countrye, where he dwelt. N'is) is hot.
The Dales} The Southpartes, where he nowe abydeth, which thoughe they
be full of hylles and woodes (for Kent is very hyllye and woodye; and
therefore so called : for Kantsh in the Saxons tongue signifieth woodie yeî
in respecte of the Northpartes they be called dales. For indede the
North is counted the higher countrye.
Night Rauens &c.} by such hatfull byrdes, hee meaneth ail misfortunes
{Whereof they be tokens) flying euery where.
Frendly faeries) the opinion of Faeries and elles is very old, and yet sticketh
very religiously in the myndes of some. But to roote that rancke opinion
of Elles oute of mens hearts, the truth is, that there be no such thinges,
nor yet the shadowes of the things, but onely by a sort of bald Friers and
knanish shauelings so feigned ; which as in ail other things, so in that, soughte
to nousell the comen people in ignorounce, least being once acquainted
with the truth of things, they woulde in tyme smell out the 'ntruth of
theyr packed pelle and Massepenie religion. But the sooth is, that when
ail Italy was distraicte into the Factions of the Guelfes and the Gibelins,
being two famous bouses in Florence, the name began through their great
mischiefes and many outrages, to be so odious or rather dreadfull in the
peoples eares, that if theyr children at any rime were frowarde and wanton,
they would sa), to them that the Guelfe or the Gibeline came. Which
words nowe from them (as many thinge els) be corne into our vsage, and
for Guelfes and Gibelines, we say Elfes and Goblins. No otherwise then
the Frenchmen vsed to say of that valiaunt captain, the ver), scourge of
Fraunce, the Lord Thalbot, afterward Erle of Shrewsbury; whose
noblesse bred such a terrour in the hearts of the French, that oft times
euen great armies were defaicted and put to flyght at the onely hearing of
hys naine. In somuch that the French wemen, to afray theyr chyldren,
would tell them that the Talbot commeth.
Many Graces) though there be indeede but three Graces or Charites {as afore
is sayd} or at the vtmost but foure, yet in respect of many gyftes of bounty,
there may be sayde more. And so Musoeus sayth, that in Heroes eyther
eye there satte a hundred graces. And by that authoritye, thys same Poete iTo
in his Pageaunts sayth.
An hundred Graces on ber eyeledde satte. &c.
Haydeguies) A country daunce or rownd. The conceipt is, that the Graces
and Nymphes doe daunce vnto the Muses, and Pan his musicke ail night
by Moonelight. To signifie the pleasauntnesse of the soyle.
Peeres) Equalles and felow shepheards.
Queneapples vnripe) imitating Virgils verse.
Ipse ego cana legam tenera lanugine mala.
i 36 remouing Q : remooued Q9 -.: remoued F i 38 that is Q9
I, : that is in Q93-., F 5o in ail other Q9 -4 : in other Q.f, F
i 61 Lord Thalbot Q9 ', u, F: Lorde of Thalbot Q9 3- ¢ 63 noblesse
Q¢ 1- 3 : noblenesse Q9 4, ¢, F 17o hundred Q¢ 1-4 : hundreth Qj', F
Il liliil !
66 THE SHEPHEARDEb .LW..
Neighbour grouesJ a straunge phrase in Engllsh, but word for word expressing
the Latine vicina nemora.
Spfing) hot of water, but of young trees spfinging. Calliope) afforesayde.
Thys staffe is full of verie poetical inuention. Tamburines) an olde kind
of instrument, which of some is supposed tobe the Clarion.
Pan with Phoebus) the raie is well knowne, howe that Pari and Apollo striuing
for excellencye in musicke, chose Midas for their iudge. Who being
corrupted wyth partiall affection, gaue the victorye to Pari vndeserued: for
which Phoebus serte a payre of Asses eares vpon hys head &c.
Tityrus) That by Tityrus is meant Chaucer, hath bene already sufficiently
sayde, and by thys more playne appeareth, that he sayth, he roide merye
raies. 8uch as be hys Canterburie tales. Whom he calleth the God of x9o
Poetes for hys excellencie, so as Tullie calleth Lentulus, Deum vitoe sue
.s. the God of hys lyfe.
To make) to versifie. O why) A pretye Epanorthosis or correction.
Discurtesie) he meaneth the falsenesse of his louer Rosalinde, who forsaking
hym, hadde chosen another.
Poynte of worthy wite) the pricke of deserued blame.
MenalcasJ the naine of a shephearde in Virgile; but here is meant a person
vnknowne and secrete, agaynst whome he often bitterly inuayeth.
vnderfonge) vndermine and deceiue by false suggestion.
Embleme.
You remember, that in the fyrst 2Eglogue, Colins Poesie was Anchora
speme: for that as then there was hope of fauour to be found in tyme. But
nowe being cleane forlorne and reiected of her, as whose hope, that was, is
cleane extinguished and turned into despeyre, he renounceth ail comfort and
hope of goodnesse to corne. Which is ail the meaning of thys Embleme.
8a is is Q ,9 o God of Q I: God of the Q¢ 2-f, F x99
vndermine Q 5", F: *'ndermynde Qq I, 2: vnderminde Qq3, 4 a o* in
the Q I, .F: the Qq 2-)" oz for that as Qf I- 4 : for as Q.f, F
Iulye.
ARGVMENT.
TaHit Eglogue if ruade in te onour and commendation of good tepeeardet,
nd to te tbame and disaoray«e of In'ou& and ambitiout Pattourt. Suc
a 1F[orrell i, ere imagined to bec.
THOMALIN. MORRELI,.
S hOt thilke saine a goteheard prowde,
that sittes on yonder bancke,
Whose straying heard them selle doth shrowde
emong the bushes rancke ?
MORRELL.
What ho, thou iollye shepheards swayne,
corne vp the hyll to me :
Better is, then the lowly playne,
als for thy flocke, and thee.
THOMALIN.
Ah God shield, man, that I should clime,
and learne to looke alofte,
This reede is ryfe, that oftentime
great clymbers fall vnsoft.
IO
68 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
hast couerture ; OE )', a w
In humble dales is footing fast,
the trode is hOt so tickle:
And though one fall through heedlesse hast,
yet is his misse hOt mickle.
And now the Sonne hath reared vp
his fyriefooted terne,
Making his way betweene the Cuppe,
and golden Diademe:
The rampant Lyon hunts he fast,
with Dogge of noysome breath,
Whose balefuLl barking bringes in hast
pyne, plagues, and dreery death.
Agaynst his cruell scortching heate
where hast thou couerture?
The wastefull hylls vnto his threate
is a playne ouerture.
But if thee lust, to holden chat
with seely shepherds swayne, 30
Come downe, and learne the litde what,
that Thomalin can sayne.
MORRELL.
Syker, thous but a Iaesie loord,
and rekes much of thy swinck,
That with fond termes, and weetlesse words
to blere myne eyes doest thinke.
In euill houre thou hentest in hond
thus holy hylles to blame,
For sacred vnto saints they stond,
and of them han theyr naine. 40
S. Michels mount who does not know,
that wardes the Westerne coste ?
And of S. Brigets bowre I trow,
all Kent can rightly boaste:
And they that con of Muses skill,
sayne most what, that they dwell
t4 ficide f, F: tricide 7 if- 4 2 Dogge ,r: Dogges ç a-f,
z6 hast thou couerture . ç I, a : thou hast couerture ? OEç3, 4 : thou
z 9 chat
1VLYE. 69
(As goteheards wont) vpon a hill,
beside a learned well.
And wonned not the great God Pari,
vpon mount Oliuet: 50
Feeding the blessed flocke of Dan,
which dyd himselfe beget ?
THOMALIN.
O blessed sheepe, O shepheard great,
that bought his flocke so deare,
And them did saue with bloudy sweat
from Wolues, that would them teare.
MORREL.
Besyde, as holy fathers sayne,
there is a hyllye place,
Where Titan ryseth from the mayne,
to renne hys dayly race. 60
Vpon whose toppe the starres bene stayed,
and all the skie doth leane,
There is the caue, where Phebe layed,
the shepheard long to dreame.
Whilome there vsed shepheards ail
to feede theyr flocks at will,
Till by his foly one did fall,
that all the rest did spill.
And sithens shepheardes bene foresayd
from places of delight : 7o
For thy I weene thou be affrayd,
to clime this hilles height.
Of Synah can I tell thee more,
and of out Ladyes bowre:
But little needes to strow my store,
suffice this hill of out.
Here han the holy Faunes resourse,
and Syluanes haunten rathe.
Here has the salt Medway his sourse)
wherein the Nymphes doe bathe. 80
5 ° mount Qq I- 3 : the mount Qq 4, Y, F 58 hyllye Qq i, 2 : holy
Qç3-5", F 59 the Qç z-], F: this Q 4 : his QS" 77 recourse Qq
', a : recourse Q¢ 3-5, F
70 THE SHEPHEARDE
The salt Medway, that trickling stremis
adowne the dales of Kent :
Till with his elder brother Themis
his brackish waues be meynt.
Here growes Melampode euery where,
and Tevibinth good for Gotes:
The one, my madding kiddes to smere,
the next, to heale theyr throtes.
Hereto, the hills bene nigher heuen,
and thence the passage ethe.
As well can proue the piercing leuin,
that seeldome falls bynethe.
9 °
THOMALIN.
Syker thou speakes lyke a lewde lorrell,
of Heauen to demen so:
How be I ara but rude and borrell,
yet nearer wayes I knowe.
To Kerke the narre, from God more farre,
has bene an old sayd sawe.
And he that striues to to.uch the starres,
oft stombles at a strawe,
Alsoone may shepheard clymbe to skye,
that leades in lowly dales,
As Goteherd prowd that sitting hye,
vpon the Mountaine sayles.
My seely sheepe like well belowe,
they neede hOt Melampode:
For they bene hale enough, I trowe,
and liken theyr abode.
But if they with thy Gotes should yede,
they soone myght be corrupted: o
Or like hot of the frowie fede,
or with the weedes be glutted.
The hylls, where dwelled holy saints,
I reuerence and adore:
Not for themselfe, but for the sayncts,
Which han be dead of yore.
8I tfickling Qq t, 2, F: stfickling Qq 3-5 83 his Qq i- 4 : the
F 97 from Qq i-4 : to Q 5, F 99 the starres Qq i- 5 : a starre F
6 be Qq t, a : bene Qq 3-5: been F
IVLYE. 7
And nowe they bene to heauen forewent,
theyr good is with them goe:
Theyr sample onely to vs lent,
that als we mought doe soe.
Shepheards they weren of the best,
and liued in lowlye leas:
And sith theyr soules bene now at rest,
why done we them disease ?
Such one he was, (as I haue heard
old Algrind often sayne)
That whilome was the first shepheard,
and liued with litfle gayne:
As meeke he was, as meeke mought be,
simple, as simple sheepe,
Humble, and like in eche degree
the flocke, which he did keepe.
Often he vsed of hys keepe
a sacrifice to bring,
Nowe with a Kidde, now with a sheepe
the Altars hallowing.
So lowted he vnto hys Lord,
such fauour couth he fynd,
That sithens neuer was abhord,
the simple shepheards kynd. 4o
And such I weene the brethren were,
that came from Canaan:
The brethren twelue, that kept yfere
the flockes of mighty Pan.
But nothing such thilk shephearde was,
whom Ida hyll dyd beare,
That left hys flocke, to fetch a lasse,
whose loue he bought to deare:
For he was proude, that ill was payd,
(no such mought shepheards bee)
And with lewde lust was ouerlayd:
tway things doen ill agree:
x6 Algrlnd Qq -4, F: Algrin 0.5 x27 the Qq r-4, F: the the
Q)" fa 9 As Qq I, 2 : And Qq3-f, F t33 keepe Qq i- 4 : sheepe,
Q.f, F 137 hys Qq i-.f: the F 39 sithens neuer Qq I,
neuer sithens Qq3-5, F tSt lewde Qq ,r, a : lewd Qq3, 4: lowd
Qs, F
7oE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
But shepheard mought be meeke and mylde,
well eyed, as Argus was,
With fleshly foIIyes vndefyled,
and stoute as steede of brasse.
Sike one (sayd Algrin) Moses was,
that sawe hys makers face,
His face more cleare, then Christall glasse,
and spake to him in place.
This had a brother, (his naine I knewe)
the first of all his cote,
A shepheard trewe, yet not so true,
as he that earst I hote.
Whilome all these were lowe, and lief,
and loued their flocks to feede,
They neuer strouen to be chiefe,
and simple was theyr weede.
But now (thanked be God therefore)
the world is well amend,
Their weedes bene not so nighly wore,
such sîmplesse mought them shend:
They bene yclad in purple and pall,
so bath theyr god them blist,
They reigne and rulen ouer ail,
and lord it, as they list:
Ygyrt with belts of glitterand gold,
(mought they good sheepeheards bene)
Theyr Pari theyr sheepe to them has sold,
I saye as some haue seene. 8o
For Palinode (if thou him ken)
yode late on Pilgrimage
To Rome, (if such be Rome) and then
he sawe thilke misusage.
For shepeheards (sayd he) there doen leade,
as Lordes done other where,
Theyr sheepe han crustes, and they the bread:
the chippes, and they the chere:
16o place. Qq i-4, F: place, Qj- t6t knewe Qq z-4: know Q)-, F
t67 chiefe, Qql-4: chiefe: Q.f. F 77 glitterand QI: glitter and
Qq a-.f, F gold. Qq 4.5, F : gold. Qq i- 3
IVLYE. 73
They han the fleece, and eke the flesh,
(O seely sheepe the while) i9o
The corne is theyrs, let other thresh,
their hands they may not file.
They han great stores, and thriftye stockes,
great freendes and feeble foes:
What neede hem caren for their flocks ?
theyr boyes can looke to those.
These wisards weltre in welths waues,
pampred in pleasures deepe,
They han latte kernes, and leany knaues,
their fasting flockes to keepe. oo
Sike mister men bene ail misgone,
they heapen hylles of wrath:
Sike syrlye shepheards han we none,
they keepen ail the path.
lXlORRELL.
Here is a great deale of good matter,
lost for lacke of telling,
Now sicker I see, thou doest but clatter:
harme may corne of melling.
Thou medlest more, then shail haue thanke,
to wyten shepheards welth: 2xo
When folke bene fat, and riches rancke,
it is a signe of helth.
But say me, what is .,,tlgrin he,
that is so oft bynempt.
THOMALIN.
He is a shepheard great in gree,
but bath bene long ypent.
One daye he sat vpon a hfll,
(as now thou wouldest me:
But I am taught by Arlgrins ill,
to loue the lowe degree.) 220
For sitting so with bared scalpe,
and Eagle sored hye,
91 other {2f/'-4: others {2 S, F I93 stores {2/': store {2q 2-5, F
I95 flocks ? {2q r- 3 : flocks, {2q 4, 5, F 203 syrlye {2,/t, : syrlie Qq
3-J': silie F o8 melling. {2q 2-5, F: mdling, {2/" 2i 5 gree,
Q.q3-.$, F: gree. {2q r, 2 2i 9 iii, {2q -j', F: iii. {2 r
74 THE SHEPHEARDES LALENDER.
That weening hys whyte head was chalke,
a shell fish downe let flye."
She weend the shell fishe to haue broake,
but therewith bruzd his brayne,
So now astonied with the stroke,
he lyes in lingring payne.
MORRELL.
Ah good .41grin, his hap was iii,
but shall be better in time.
Now farwell shepheard, sith thys hyll
thou hast such doubt to climbe.
Thomalins Embleme.
In medio virtus.
21Iorrells Embleme.
In summo fwlicitas.
GLOSSE.
A Goteheard) By Gotes in scrypture be represented the wicked and reprobate,
whose pastour also must needes be such.
Banck) is the seate of honor. Straying heard) which wander out of the a40
waye of truth.
Als) for also. Clymbe) spoken of Ambition. Great clymbers) aceording
to Seneca his verse, Decidunt celsa grauiore lapsu. Mickle) much.
The sonne) A reason, why he refuseth to dwell on Mountaines, because there
is no shelter against the scortching sunne. According to the time of the
yeare, whiche is the whotest moneth of ail.
The Cupp and Diademe) Be two signes in the Firmament, through which the
sonne maketh his course in the moneth of Iuly.
Lion) Thys is Poetically spoken, as if the Sunne did hunt a Lion with one
Dogge. The meaning whereof is, that in Iuly the sonne is in Leo. At aSo
which tyme the Dogge starre, which is called Syrius or Canicula reigneth,
with immoderate heate eausing Pestilence, drougth, and many diseases.
Ouerture) an open place. The word is borrowed of the French, and vsed in
good writers. To holden chatt) to talke and prate.
A loorde) was wont among the old Britons to signifie a Lorde. And there-
fore the Danes, that long time vsurped theyr Tyrannie here in Brytanie,
were ealled for more dread then dignitie, Lurdanes .s. Lord Danes. At
which time it is sayd, that the insolencie and pryde of that nation was so
outragious in thys Realme, that if it fortuned a Briton to be going ouer
a bridge, and sawe the Dane set foote vpon the saine, he muste retorne a60
aa8a Morrell. Qq 1- 4 a33 Thomah'nt (coni., v. 340): Pallnode.r Qq
t-j', F 243 Seneneca Q lapsu Qq3-5, F: lapsus Qq 1, z 257
then Qq 3-.f, F: and Qq I, z
IVLYE. 75
back, till the Dane were cleane ouer, or els abyde the pryce of his
displeasure, which was no lesse, then present death. But being afterwarde
expelled that naine o Lurdane became so odious vnto the people, whom
they had long oppressed, that euen at this daye they vse for more reproche,
to call the Quartane ague the Feuer Lurdane.
Recks much of thy swinck) counts much o thy laynes. Weetelesse) hot
vnderstoode.
S. bIichds mount) is a promontorie in the West part of England.
A hill) Parnassus afforesayd. Pan Christ. Dan) One trybe is put for the
whole nation per Synecdochen. 270
Where Titan) the Sonne. Which story is to be redde in Diodorus Syc.
of the hyl Ida; from whence he sayth, all night time is to bee seene
a mightye tire, as if the skye burned, which toward morning beginneth
to gather into a rownd forme, and thereof ryseth the sonne, whome the
Poetes call Titan :
The Shepheard) is Endymion, whom the Poets fayne, to haue bene so
beloued of Phoeb« .s. the Moone, that he was by her kept a sleepe in a caue
by the space of xxx. yeares, for to enioye his companye.
There) that is in Paradise, where through errour of shepheards vnderstanding,
he sayth, that ail shepheards did vse to feede theyr flocks, till one, (that is 28o
Adam) by hys follye and disobedience, ruade ail the rest of hys ofspring be
debarred and shutte out from thence.
Synah) a bill in Arabia, where God appeared.
Out Ladyes bowre) a place of pleasure so called.
Faunes or Syluanes) be of Poetes feigned to be Gods of the Woode.
Medway) the naine of a Ryuer in Kent, which running by Rochester, meeteth
with Thames; whom he calleth his elder brother, both because he is
greater, and also falleth sooner into the Sea.
Meynt) mingled. Mdampode and Terebinth) be hearbes good to cure
diseased Gotes. Of thone speaketh Mantuane, and of thother Theocritus. 29o
Nigher heauen) Note the shepheards simplenesse, which supFoseth that from
the hylls is nearer waye to heauen.
Leuin) Lighming ; which he taketh for an argument, to proue the nighnes to
heauen, because the lightning doth comenly ]ight on hygh mountaynes,
according to the saying of the Poete. Feriuntque summos fu]mina montes.
Lorrell) A lose]]. A bord].) a p]ayne fellowe. Narre) nearer.
Hale) for hole. Yede) goe. Frowye) mustye or mossie.
Of yore) long agoe. Forewente) gone afore.
The firste shepheard) was Abell the righteous, who (as scripture sayth)3co
bent hys mind to keeping of sheepe, as did hys brother Cain to tilling
the grownde.
His keepe) hys charge s. his flocke. Lowted) did honour and reuerence.
The brethren) the twelue sonnes of Iacob, whych vere shepemaisters, and
lyued onelye thereupon.
279 errour of Qq I- 4 : errour of the Q .f, F 28o (that is Adam) :
(that is Adam Qq 1, a : (that is) Adam Qq3-Y, F 29 x acremona Qq
-4 : acremonia Qy, F z93 nearer Qq 1- 5 : nigher F
7 6 THE SI-I ILPH ILA Fd9 v.b
Whora Ida) Paris, which being the sonne of Priamus king of Troy, for
his mother Hecubas dreame, which being with child of hym, dreamed shee
broughte forth a firebrand, that set ail the towre of Ilium on tire, was cast
forth on the hyll Ida ; where being fostered of shepheards, he eke in rime
became a shepheard, and lastly came to knowledge of his parentage. 3 o
A lasse) Helena the wyfe of Menelaus king of Lacedemonia, was by Venus
for the golden Aple to her geuen, then promised to Paris, who thereupon
with a sorte of lustye Troyanes, stole her out of Lacedemonia, and kept
her in Troye. Which was the cause of the terme yeares warre in Troye, and
the moste famous citye of ail Asia most lamentably sacked and defaced.
Argus) was of the Poets deuised to be full of eyes, and therefore to hym was
committed the keeping of the transformed Cow Io: So cailed because that
in the print of a Cowes foote, there is figured an I in the middest of an O.
His name) he meaneth Aaron : whose name for more Decorum, the shep-
hearde sayth he hath forgot, lest his remembraunce and skill in antiquities 32o
of holy writ should seeme to exceede the meanenesse of the Person.
Not so true) for Aaron in the absence of Moses started aside, and committed
Idolatry.
In purple)Spoken of the Popes and Cardinalles, which vse such tyrannical
colours and pompous paynting. Belts) Girdles.
Glitterand) Glittering. A Participle vsed sometime in Chaucer, but altogether
in I. Goore.
Theyr Pan) that is the Pope, whom thev count theyr God and greatest
shepheard.
Palinode) A shephearde, of whose report he seemeth to speake ail thys. 330
Wisards) greate learned heads. Welter) waiIowe. Kerne) a Churle or
F armer.
Sike mister men) such kinde of men. Surly) stately and prowde, Mdling)
medling.
Bett) better. Bynempte) named. Gree) for degree.
Algrin the name of a shepheard afforesayde, whose myshap he alludeth to the
chaunce, that happened to the Poet 2Eschylus, that was brayned with
a shdlfishe.
Embleme.
By thys poesye Thomalin confirmeth that, which in hys former speach 34o
by sondrye reasons he had proued. For being both hymselfe sequestred from
ail ambition and also abhorring it in others of hys cote, he taketh occasion
to prayse the meane and lowly state, as that wherein is safetie without
feare, and quiet without danger, according to the saying of olde Philosophers,
that ¢ertue dwelleth in the middest, being enuironed with two contrary
vices : whereto Morrell replieth with continuaunce of the same Philosophers
opinion, that albeit ail bountye dwelleth in mediocritie, yet perfect felicitye
dwdleth in supremacie. For they say, and most true it is, that happinesse is
placed in the highest degree, so as if any thing be higher or better, tben
that streight way ceaseth to be perfect happines. Much like to that, which 35o
3 o knowledge Q I, z : the knowledge Qf 3-5,
IVLYE.
77
once I heard alleaged in defence of humilitye out of a great doctour»
Suorum Christus humillimus : which saying a gentle man in the company
taking at the rebownd, beate backe again with lyke saying of another
Doctoure, as he sayde. Suorum deus altissimus.
August.
ARGVMENT.
Iïn ttis dEglogue is set fortt a delectable controuer«ie, ruade in imitation of ttmt
Theocritus : vtereto also Iirgile fastioned tis ttird and seuentt dEglogue.
Ttey ctmose for mpere of their strife, Cuddie a neatteards boye, vtm tmuing
ended their cause, reclteth also himselfe a troter song, vtereof Colin e saytt vas
lluthour.
WlLLYE. PERIGOT. CVDDIE.
ELI me Perigot, what shalbe the gaine,
Wherefore with myrte thou dare thy musick matche ?
Or bene thy Bagpypes renne farre out of frame?
Or hath the Crampe thy ioynts benomd with ache ?
354 altissimus Qq3-.f, F: allissimus Qq I, 2
I, : chou e¢ 3-5, F
As6. 3 coose Q2
7 8 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
PERIGOT.
Ah Willye, wher the hart is ill assayde,
How can Bagpipe, or ioynts be well apayd ?
WILLYE.
What the foule euill hath thee so bestadde ?
Whilom thou was peregall to the best,
And wont to make the iolly shepeheards gladde
With pyping and dauncing, didst passe the rest. o
PERIGOT.
Ah H/ïllye now I haue learnd a newe daunce:
My old musick mard by a newe mischaunce.
WILLYE.
Mischiefe mought to that newe mischaunce befall,
That so hath raft vs of our meriment.
But reede me, what payne doth thee so appall ?
Or louest thou, or bene thy younglings miswent ?
PERIGOT.
Loue hath misled both my younglings, and mee:
I pyne for payne, and they my payne to see.
WILLYE.
Perdie and wellawaye: ill may they thriue:
Neuer knewe I louers sheepe in good plight, ao
But and if in rymes with me thou dare striue,
Such fond fantsies shall soone be put to flight.
PERIGOT.
That shall I doe, though mochell worse I fared:
Neuer shall be sayde that Perigot was dared.
WILLYE.
Then loe Perigot the Pledge, which I plight:
A mazer ywrought of the Maple warre:
Wherein is enchased many a fayre sight
Of Beres and Tygres, that maken fiers warre:
t o didst Qq 2-3 : did Qq 4, ', F x 3 newe Qq I, 2 : oto. Qq 3-5,
F x6a PERIGOR Q " x8 mypayteQqI, 2: may paiae Q3:
may plaine Qq 4, 5: my plaint F 2I if in rymes Qq I-.: if rymes
Qq 4, 3, F fantsies Qq I, 2 : fantasies Qq 3-5, F
AVGVST.
And ouer them spred a goodly wild vine,
Entrailed with a wanton Yuie twine.
79
Thereby is a Lambe in the Wolues iawes:
But see, how fast renneth the shepheard swayne,
To saue the innocent from the beastes pawes :
And here with his shepehooke hath him slayne.
Tell me, such a cup hast thou euer sene?
Well mought it beseme any haruest Qeene.
PERIGOT.
Thereto will I pawne yonder spotted Lambe,
Of all my flocke there nis sike another:
For I brought him vp without the Dambe.
But Colin Clout rafte me of his brother, 4o
That he purchast of me in the playne field:
Sore against my will was I forst to yield.
WILLYE.
Sicker make like account of his brother.
But who sha11 iudge the wager wonne or lost ?
PERIGOT.
That shall yonder heardgrome, and none other,
Which ouer the pousse hetherward doth post.
WILLYE.
But for the Sunnebeame so sore doth vs beate,
Were hot better, to shunne the scortching heate ?
PERIGOT.
Wdl agreed I¢/'illy: then sitte thee downe swayne:
Sike a song neuer heardest thou, but Colin sing. 5o
CVDDIE.
Gynne, when ye lyst, ye iolly shepheards twayne:
Sike a iudge, as Cuddie, were for a king.
Perigot. ]T fell vpon a holly eue,
I¢/'illye. !. hey ho hollidaye,
30 Entrailed Qç 1-4, F: Entraibed Q. 53 holly Qç l, u : holy
Q.q 3-5, F 53, 54 Per. Will. Qç «-4, F: Will. Per. Q.f atdsotol. 78
80 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Per.
14il.
Per.
ltril.
Per°
Per.
ICil.
Per.
14il.
Pe-.
ICil.
Per.
il.
Per.
Per.
il.
Per.
il.
P.
il.
Per.
il.
Per.
lil.
Per.
IKil.
Per.
Wil.
Wil.
Wil.
Pg.
Wil.
Wil.
When holly fathers wont to shrieue:
now gynneth this roundelay.
Sitting vpon a bill so hye
hey ho the high hyll,
The while my flocke did feede thereby,
the while the shepheard selfe did spill: 6o
I saw the bouncing Bellibone,
hey ho Bonibell,
Tripping ouer the dale alone,
she can trippe it very well:
Well decked in a frocke of gray,
hey ho gray is greete,
And in a Kirtle of greene saye,
the greene is for maydens meete:
A chapelet on her head she wore,
hey ho chapelet, o
Of sweete Violets therein was store,
she sweeter then the Violet.
My sheepe did leaue theyr wonted foode,
hey ho seely sheepe,
And gazd on her, as they were wood,
woode as he, that did them keepe.
As the bonilasse passed bye,
hey ho bonilasse,
She roude at me with glauncing eye,
as cleare as the christall glasse: 8o
Ail as the Sunnye beame so bright,
hey ho the Sunne beame,
Glaunceth from Phcbus face forthright,
so loue into thy hart did streame:
Or as the thonder cleaues the cloudes,
hey ho the Thonder,
Wherein the lightsome leuin shroudes,
so cleaues thy soule a sonder:
Or as Dame Cynthias siluer raye
hey ho the Moonelight, 9o
Vpon the glyttering waue doth playe:
such play is a pitteous plight.
5 6 roundelay Qç I- 3, F: round delay Qç 4, 5 îo chapelet Qç I-3,
F: chaplet Qq 4, 5 7 z she sweeter Qq I, a, F: the sweeter Q 3 : sweeter
Q9 4, 5 79 roude Qq I, , 4, " : rou'de Q 3 : rovde F 84 thy F :
my Qq I- 5
AVGVST. 8 1
Pr.
Hil.
Per.
H/il.
Per.
H/il.
Per.
H/il.
Per.
H/iL
Per.
H/iL
Per.
H/il.
Per.
H/iL
Per.
H/il.
Per.
lil.
Per.
H/iL
Per.
H/iL
Per.
il.
Per.
il.
Per.
il.
Per.
The glaunce into my heart did glide,
hey ho the glyder,
Therewith my soule was sharply gryde,
such woundes soone wexen wider.
Hasting to raunch the arrow out,
hey ho Perigot.
I left the head in my hart roote:
it was a desperate shot. zoo
There it ranckleth ay more and more,
hey ho the arrowe,
Ne can I find salue for my sore:
loue is a curelesse sorrowe.
And though my bale with death I bought,
hey ho heauie cheere,
Yet should thilk lasse hot from my thought:
so you may buye gold to deare.
But whether in paynefull loue I pyne,
hey ho pinching payne, to
Or thriue in welth, she shalbe mine.
but if thou can ber obteine.
And if for gracelesse greefe I dye,
hey ho gracelesse griefe,
Witnesse, shee slewe me with her eye:
let thy follye be the priefe.
And you, that sawe it, simple shepe,
hey ho the fayre flocke,
For priefe thereof, my death shall weepe,
and mone with many a mocke. 2o
So learnd I loue on a hollye eue,
hey ho holidaye,
That euer since my hart did greue.
now endeth out roundelay.
CVDDYE.
Sicker sike a roundle neuer heard I none.
Little lacketh Perigot of the best.
And H/illye is hot greatly ouergone,
So weren his vndersongs well addrest.
82 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER."
WILLYE.
Herdgrome, I feare me, thou haue a squint eye:
Areede vprightly, who has the victorye? 3o
CVDDIE.
Fayth of my soule, I deeme ech haue gayned.
For thy let the Lambe be ICillye his owne:
And for Perigot so well bath hym payned,
To him be the wroughten mazer alone.
PERIGOT.
Perigot is well pleased with the doome:
Ne can lIqllye_wite the witelesse herdgroome.
WILLYE.
Neuer dempt more right of beautye I weene,
The shepheard of Ida, that iudged beauties Qeene.
CVDDIE.
But tell me shepherds, should it hot yshend
Your roundels fresh, to heare a doolefull verse
Of Rosalend (who knowes hOt Rosalend ?)
That Colin made, ylke can I you rehearse.
PERIGOT.
Now say it Cuddie, as thou art a ladde:
With mery thing its good to medle sadde.
WlLLY.
Fayth of my soule, thou shalt ycrouned be
In Colins stede, if thou this song areede:
For neuer thing on earth so pleaseth me,
As him to heare, or matter of his deede.
CVDDIE.
Then listneth ech vnto my heauy laye,
And tune your pypes as ruthful, as ye may. I5o
E wastefull woodes beare witnesse of my woe,
Wherein my plaints did oftentimes resound:
Ye carelesse byrds are priuie to my cryes,
x34 hm Q 38 iudged Qq I-./: iudge Qq 4, ..f: iudg'd F
i48 deede. Qq 3-.f, F: deede, Qq , a
AVGVST. 83
Which in your songs were wont to make a part:
Thou pleasaunt spring hast luld me oft a sleepe,
Whose streames my tricldinge teares did ofte augment.
Resort of people doth my greefs augment,
The walled townes do worke my greater woe:
The forest wide is fitter to resound
The hollow Echo of my carefull cryes, 6o
I hate the bouse, since thence my loue did part,
Whose waylefull wart debarres myne eyes from sleepe.
Let stremes of teares supply the place of sleepe:
Let all that sweete is, voyd: and all that may augment
My doole, drawe neare. More meete to wayle my woe,
Bene the wild woddes my sorrowes to resound,
Then bedde, or bowre, both which I fill with cryes,
When I them see so waist, and f-ynd no part
Of pleasure past. Here will I dwell apart
In gastfull groue therefore, till my last sleepe
Doe close mine eyes: so shall I not augment
With sight of such a chaunge my restlesse woe:
Helpe me, ye banefull byrds, whose shrieking sound
Ys signe of dreeur death, my deadly cures
Most ruthfully to tune. And as my cryes
(Which of my woe cannot bewray least part)
You heare all night, when nature craueth sleepe,
Increase, so let your yrksome yells augment.
Thus all the night in plaints, the daye in woe
I vowed haue to wayst, till safe and sound 8o
She home returne, whose voyces siluer sound
To cheerefull songs can chaunge my cherelesse cures.
Hence with the Nightingale will I take part,
That blessed byrd, that spends her time of sleepe
In songs and plaintiue pleas, the more taugment
The memour of hys misdeede, that bred her woe:
And you that feele no woe, I when as the sound
Of these my nightly cryes I ye heare apart,
Let breake your sounder sleepe I and pitie augment.
154 a part Q3-5: apart Qq z, a, F 162 from Q z-5: of F
64 sweete is, Q.z-3, F: sweete, is Q4: s-eete is Q5 z66 woddes
,r : woodes Q a : woods Q¢ 3-Y, F 167 or Q ,r : nor Qt a-J, F
7 aQ: asQz-.r,F 79 night QqI, 2: nightes Qq3-5: nights F
G2
84
THE SHEPHEARDES ÇALI2,IDI2,K.
PERIGOT.
0 Colin, Colin, the shepheards ioye,
How I admire ech turning of thy verse:
And Cuddie, fresh Cuddie the liefest boye,
How dolefully his doole thou didst rehearse.
CUDDIE.
Then blowe your pypes shepheards, fil you be at home :
The night nigheth fast, yts rime to be gone.
Perigot his Embleme.
Vincenti gloria victi.
Willyes Embleme.
Vinto non vitto.
Cuddies Embleme.
Felice chi
GLOSSE.
Bestadde) disposed, ordered. Peregall) equall. Whilome) once.
Rafte) bereft, depriued. Miswent) gon a straye. III may) according
to Virgile. Infelix o semper ouis pecus.
A mazer) So also do Theocritus and Virgile feigne pledges of their strife.
Enchased) engrauen. Such pretie descriptions euery where vseth Theocritus,
to bring in his Idyllia. For which speciall cause indede he by that name
termeth his ./Eglogues: for Idyllion in Greke signifieth the shape
or picture of any thyng, wherof his booke is fui. And hot, as I haue axo
heard some fondly guesse, that they be called not Idyllia, but Hoedilia,
of the Goteheards in them.
Entrailed) wrought betwene.
Haruest Queene) The manner of country folke in haruest tyme.
Pousse.) Pease.
h fell vFon ) Perigot maketh hys song in prayse of his loue, to whom Willy
answereth euery vnder verse. By Perigot who is meant, I can hot vprightly
say : but if it be, who is supposed, his love deserueth no lesse prayse, then
he giueth her.
Greete) weeping and complaint. Chaplet) a kind of Garlond lyke a crowne, aao
Leuen) Lightning. Cynthia) was sayd to be the Moone. Gryde) perced.
But if) not vnlesse. Squint eye) partial1 iudgement.
Ech haue) so saith Virgile.
Èt vitula tu dignus, et hic &c.
x 9 5 nigheth Q : higheth Qq -)', F 2 x 8 supposed, his love Qq
-3: supposed his loue Q 4 : supposed his Loue, shee Q)', F
AVGVST. 8.ç
So by enterchaunge of gyfts Cuddie pleaseth both pattes.
Doome) iudgement. Dempt) for deemed, iudged. Wite the witdesse)
blame the blamelesse. The shepherd of Ida) was sayd to be Paris.
Beauties Queene) Venus» to whome Paris adiudged the golden Apple, as the
pryce of her beautie.
Embleme.
The meaning hereof is very ambiguous : for Perlgot by his loesie claming the
conquest, and Willye hot yeelding, Cuddie the arbiter of theyr cause,
and Patron of his own, semeth to chalenge it, as his dew, saying, that he,
is happy which can, so abruptly ending but hee meaneth eyther him, that
can in the beste, or moderate him selfe being best, and leaue of with the
best.
z3o
September.
./rEgloga Noria.
ARGVMENT.
Erein Diggon JDauie i« deui«ed to e a «tStSeard, ttSat in tSope of more
ayne, droue hic «heepe into a farre countrye. The au«e« whereof, and loo«e
h'uing of Popbh prelate,, y occa,ion of Hoinols demaund, he discourseth at
large.
2z 5 8o by enterchaunge &c. Qq i-4: Q.f, Forait
235 of Qq z- 4 : off Q j-, F
2-8 goldden Q
86 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
HOBBINOL. DIGGON DAUIE.
-Iggon Dauie, I bidde her god day:
-LOr
Diggon her is, or I missaye.
DIGGON.
Her was her, while it was daye light,
But now her is a most wretched wight.
For day, that was, is wightly past,
And now at earst the dirke night doth hast.
HOBBINOLL.
Diggon areede, who has thee so dight?
Neuer I wist thee in so poore a plight.
Where is the fayre flocke, thou was wont to leade ?
Or bene they chaffred ? or at mischiefe dead ? io
DIGGON.
Ah for loue of that, is to thee moste leefe,
Hobbinol, I pray thee gall not my old griefe :
Sike question ripeth vp cause of newe woe,
For one opened mote vnfolde many moe.
HOBBINOLL.
Nay, but sorrow close shrouded in hart
I know, to kepe, is a burdenous smart.
Eche thing imparted is more eath to beare:
When the rayne is faln, the cloudes wexen cleare.
And nowe sithence I sawe thy head last,
Thrise three Moones bene fully spent and past: 2o
Since when thou hast measured much grownd,
And wandred I wene about the world rounde,
So as thou can many thinges relate:
But tell me first of thy flocks astate.
DIGGON.
My sheepe bene wasted, (wae is me therefore)
The iolly shepheard that was of yore,
Is nowe nor iollye, nor shepehearde more.
6 dirke Q91-4 : darke Q )-, F 9 was wont Qq i, : was woont Qq
3, 4: wast woon Q.f: wast gont F I 3 ripeth Qq r, 2; rippeth Qq
3--' F 18 wexen Qq r, : waxen Qq , 4 : waxe Q .f : wex F u z
I wene Qq r, : weele Qq t-.f, F 24 astate Qq r, : estate Qq3-$, F
a 5 wae Q9 I-4: woe Q)', F
SEPTEMBER.
87
In forrein costes, men sayd, was plentye:
And so there is, but all of miserye.
I dempt there much to haue eeked my store, 3o
But such eeking hath made my hart sore.
In tho countryes, whereas I haue bene,
No being for those, that truely mene,
But for such, as of guile maken gayne,
No such countrye, as there to remaine.
They setten to sale their shops of shame,
And maken a Mart of theyr good name.
The shepheards there robben one another,
And layen baytes to beguile her brother.
Or they will buy his sheepe out of the cote,
Or they will caruen the shepheards throte.
The shepheards swaynevou cannot wel ken,
But it be by his pryde, from other men:
They looken bigge as Bulls, that bene bate,
And bearen the cragge so stiffe and so state,
As cocke on his dunghill, crowing cranck.
HOBBINOLL.
Diggon, I am so stiffe, and so stanck,
That vneth may I stand any more:
And nowe the Westerne wind bloweth sore,
That nowe is in his chiefe souereigntee, 5o
Beating the withered leafe from the tree.
Sitte we dow«e here vnder the hill:
Tho may we talke, and tellen our ri[l,
And make a mocke at the blustring blast.
Now say on Diggon, what euer thou hast.
DIGGON.
Hobbin, ah hobbin, I curse the stounde,
That euer I cast to haue lorne this grounde.
Wel-away the while I was so fonde,
To leaue the good, that I had in honde,
3z whereas Q9 1-4 : where Q.f, F 37 Mart Qq 1- 4 : market
40 out Qç I-4: forth Q.f, F: cote, Q9 I-4, F: cote. Q.f 5 ° nowe
Q.f, Forait 54 blast. Q9 *-4 : blast, Q.f, F 59 hond Qg]-.f,
hande Q9 I, u
88 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
In hope of better, that was vncouth: 60
So lost the Dogge the flesh in his mouth.
My seely sheepe (ah seely sheepe)
That here by there I whilome vsd to keepe,
Ail were they lustye, as thou didst see,
Bene al/sterued with pyne and penuree.
Hardly my selfe escaped thilke payne,
Driuen for neede to corne home agayne.
HOBBINOLL.
Ah fon, now by thy losse art taught,
That seeldome chaunge the better brought.
Content who liues with tryed state, 7o
Neede feare no chaunge of frowning fate:
But who wil/seeke for vnknowne gayne,
Oft liues by losse, and leaues with payne.
DIGGON.
I wote ne Hobbin how I was bewitcht
With vayne desyre, and hope to be enricht.
But sicker so it is, as the bright starre
Seemeth ay greater, when it is farre:
I thought the soyle would haue made me rich:
But nowe I wote, it is nothing sich.
For eyther the shepeheards bene ydle and still, 8o
And ledde of theyr sheepe, what way they wyl/:
Or they bene false, and full of couetise,
And casten to compasse many wrong emprise.
But the more bene fraight with fraud and spight,
Ne in good nor gooclnes taken delight:
But kindle coales of conteck and yre,
Wherewith they sette all the world on tire:
Which when they thinken agayne to quench
With holy water, they doen hem ail drench.
They saye they con to heauen the high way, 90
But by my soule I dare vndersaye,
They neuer serte foote in that saine troade,
But balk the right way, and strayen abroad.
ay Qq l, a : aye Qq 3, 4 : a Q 5., F 8 4 the more bene fraight Qq
more beene fraught Q 5", av 8 9 drench. Qq I- 4 : drench, Q 5., a v
SEPTEMBER.
89
They boast they han the deuill at commaund:
But aske hem therefore, what they han paund.
Marrie that great Pan bought with deare borrow,
To quite it fi'om the blacke bowre of sorrowe.
But they han sold thilk same long agoe:
For thy woulden drawe with hem many moe.
But let hem gange alone a Gods name:
As they ban brewed, so let hem beare blame.
HOBBINOLL.
Diggon, I praye thee speake hOt so dirke.
Such myster saying me seemeth to mirke.
DIGGON.
Then playnely to speake of shepheards most what,
Badde is the best (this english is flatt.)
Their iii hauiour garres men missay,
Both of their doctrine, and of their raye.
They sayne the world is much war then it wont,
Ail for her shepheards bene beastly and blont.
Other sayne, but how truely I note,
Ail for they holden shame of theyr cote.
Some sticke hot to say, (whote cole on her tongue)
That sike mischiefe graseth hem emong,
All for they casten too much of worlds care,
To deck her Dame, and enrich ber heyre:
For such encheason, If you goe nye,
Fewe chymneis reeking you shall espye:
The latte Oxe, that wont ligge in the stal,
Is nowe fast stalled in her crumenall.
Thus chatten the people in theyr steads,
Ylike as a Monster of many heads.
But they that shooten neerest the pricke,
Sayne, other the fat from their beards doen lick.
For bigge Bulles ofBasan brace hem about,
That with theyr bornes butten the more stoute:
95 han Qq 1- 4 : haue QS, F 96 deare Qq 1- 4 : great Q.f, F 99
For thy woulden Qq I, a : For they woulden Qq 3-5 : For they would F
Io2 dirke. Qqi,.f, F: dirke, Qqa- 4 Io7 and oftheir QI: and their
Qç a-.f, F 1o 9 bene
hote Qç3-.f, F 117 reeking Qq 1-4: reeken Q.f, F i23 doen Qq
1- 4: do Q.f: doeF
9o
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
But the leane soules treaden vnder foote.
And to seeke redresse mought little boote:
For liker bene theï to pluck awaï more,
Then ought of the gotten good to restore.
For theï bene like foule wagmoires ouergrast,
That if thï galage once sticketh fast,
The more to wind it out thou doest swinck,
Thou mought aï deeper and deeper sinck.
Yet better leaue of with a little losse,
Then bï much wrestling to leese the grosse.
HOBBINOLL.
Nowe Diggon, I see thou speakest to plaine:
Better it were, a little to feïne,
And cleanlï couer, that cannot be cured.
Such il, as is forced, mought nedes be endured.
But of sike pastoures howe done the flocks creepe
DIGGON.
Sike as the shepheards, sike bene her sheepe,
For theï nill listen to the shepheards voïce,
But if he call hem at theyr good choïce,
Theï wander at wil, and stray at pleasure,
And to theïr foldes yead at their owne leasure.
But theï had be better corne at their cal:
For manï han into mischiefe fall,
And bene of rauenous Wolues ïrent,
Ail for theï nould be buxome and bent.
HOBBINOLL.
Fye on thee Diggon, and all thy foule leasing,
Well is knowne that sith the Saxon king,
Neuer was Woolfe seene many nor some,
Nor in all Kent, nor in Christendome:
But the fewer Woolues (the soth to sayne,)
The more bene the Foxes that here remaine.
DIGGON.
Yes, but they gang in more secrete wise,
And with sheepes clothing doen hem disguise,
134 of Qq i-4: off Qs, F 39 endured. Qq 3-5, F: endured
Qq I, a 144 stray Q
47 into Qql-4: vnto QS, F 5 sith Qql-4: since Q.f, F 153
Chfisiendome Q i
SEPTEMBER.
91
They walke not widely as they were wont
For feare of mungers, and the great hunt:
But priuely prolling two and froe, 6o
Enaunter they mought be inly knowe.
HOBBINOL.
Or priuie or pert yf any bene,
We han great Bandogs will teare their sklnne.
DIGGON.
Indeede thy ball is a bold bigge curre,
And could make a iolly hole in theyr furre.
But hOt good Dogges hem needeth to chace,
But heedy shepheards to discerne their face.
For all their craft is in their countenaunce,
They bene so graue and full of mayntenaunce.
But shall I tell thee what my selfe knowe, 7o
Chaunced to Roffynn hot long ygoe ?
HOBBINOL.
Say it out Diggon, what euer it hight,
For hot but well mought him betight,
He is so meeke, wise, and merciable,
And with his word his worke is conuenable.
Colin clout I wene be his selfe boye,
(Ah for Colin he whilome my ioye)
Shepheards sich, God mought vs many send,
That doen so carefully theyr flocks tend.
DIGGON.
Thilk same shepheard mought I well marke: 8o
He has a Dogge to byte or to barke,
Neuer had shepheard so kene a kurre,
That waketh, and if but a leafe sturre.
Whilome there wonned a wicked Wolfe,
That with many a Lambe had glutted his gulfe.
And euer at night wont to repayre
Vnto the flocke, when the Welkin shone faire,
Ycladde in clothing of seely sheepe,
When the good old man vsed to sleepe.
58 walke Qq i- 4 : talk Q 5, F x 6 a priuie Qq 4, 5, F: pfiue Qq
I- 3 x6 5 theyr Qq2,3: thoyr QI: their Qq 4,5, F x6 9 They
9
THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Tho at midnight he would barke and ball, xgo
(For he had eft learned a curres call.)
As if a Woolfe were emong the sheepe.
With that the shepheard would breake his sleepe,
And send out Lowder (for so his dog hote)
To raunge the fields with wide open throte.
Tho when as Lowder was farre awaye,
This Woluish sheepe would catchen his pray,
A Lambe, or a Kidde, or a weanell wast."
With that to the wood would he speede him fast.
Long time he vsed this slippery pranck, 2oo
Ere Roffy could for his laboure him thanck.
At end the shepheard his practise spyed,
(For Roff-y is wise, and as Argus eyed)
And when at euen he came to the flocke,
Fast in theyr folds he did them locke,
And tooke out the Woolfe in his counterfect cote,
And let out the sheepes bloud at his throte.
HOBBINOLL.
Marry Diggon, what should him affraye,
To take his owne where euer it laye ?
For had his wesand bene a little widder, 2o
He would haue deuoured both hidder and shidder.
I)IGGON.
Mischief'e light on him, and Gods great curse,
Too good for him had bene a great deale worse:
For it was a perilous beast aboue all,
And eke had he cond the shepherds call.
And of't in the night came to the shepecote,
And called Lowder, with a hollow throte,
As if" it the old man self"e had bene.
The dog his maisters voice did it weene,
Yet halfe in doubt, he opened the dore, 22o
And ranne out, as he was wont of yore.
No sooner was out, but swifter then thought,
Fast by the hyde the Wolfe lowder caught:
I96 away, Qç 3-S, F: awaye. Qql, 2OI thanck. Q S, F: thanck
Qq 1- 4 207 a Hobbinoll Qq -S : Diggon Q
SEPTEMBER.
93
And had not Roffy renne to the steuen,
Lowder had be slaine thilke same euen.
HOBBINOLL.
God shield man, he should so ill haue thriue,
Ail for he did his deuoyr beliue.
If sike bene Wolues, as thou hast told,
How mought we Diggon, hem be-hold.
DIGGON.
How, but with heede and watchfulnesse,
Forstallen hem of their wilinesse?
For thy with shepheard sittes not playe,
Or sleepe, as some doen, all the long day:
But euer liggen in watch and ward,
From soddein force theyr flocks for to gard.
23 o
HOBBINOLL.
Ah Diggon, thilke same rule were too straight,
AI1 the cold season to wach and waite.
We bene of fleshe, men as other bee.
Why should we be bound to such miseree ?
What euer thing lacketh chaungeable rest,
Mought needes decay, when it is at best.
DIGGON.
Ah but Hobbinol, all this long tale,
Nought easeth the care, that doth me forhaile.
What shall I doe ? what way shall I wend,
My piteous plight and fosse to amend ?
Ah good Hobbinol, mought I thee praye,
Of ayde or counsell in my decaye.
240
HOBBINOLL.
Now by my soule Diggon, I lainent
The haplesse mischief, that has thee hent,
Nethelesse thou seest my lowly salle,
That froward fortune doth euer auaile.
237 wach : watch q z-y, F
Q.f, F
250
243 forhaile. Qç 1-4 : forhaile,
94
But were Hobbinoll, as God mought please,
Diggon should soone find fauour and case.
But if to my cotage thou wilt resort,
So as I can, I wil thee comfort:
There mayst thou ligge in a vetchy bed,
Till fayrer Fortune shewe forth her head.
DIGGON.
Ah Hobbinol, God mought it thee requite.
Diggon on fewe such freends did euer lite.
Diggons Embleme.
Inopem me copia fecit.
GLO88E.
The Dialecte and phrase of speache in this Dialogue, seemeth somewhat to
differ from the comen. The cause whereof is supposed to be, by occasion
of the party herein meant, who being very freend to the Author hereof, had
bene long in lorraine countryes, and there seene many disorders, which he
here recounteth to Hobbinoll.
Bidde ber) Bidde good morrow. For to bidde, is to praye, whereof commeth
beades for prayers, and so they say, To bidde his beades, s. to saye his
prayers.
Wightly) quicklye, or sdenlye. Chaffred) solde.
Dead at mischiefe) an vnusuall speache, but much vsurped of Lidgate, and
sometime of Chaucer.
Leefe) deare. Ethe) easie. Thrice thre moones) nine monethes.
Measured) for traueled.
Wae) woe Northernly. Eeked) encreased.
Caruen) cutte. Kenne) know.
Cragge) neck. State) stoutely. Stanck) wearie or fainte.
And nowe) He applieth it to the tyme of the yeare, which is in thend of
haruest, which they call the rail of the leafe : at which tyme the Westerne 28c
wynde beareth most swaye.
A mocke) Imitating Horace, Debes ludibrium ventis.
Lorne) lefte. Soote) swete.
Vncouthe) vnknowen. Hereby there) here and there. As the brighte)
Translated out of Mantuane. Emprise) for enterprise. Per Syncopen.
Contek) strife.
Trode) path. Marrie that) that is, their soules, which by popish Exorcismes
and practises they damme to hell.
Blacke) h«ll. Gange) goe. Mister) man«r.
Mirke) obscure. Varre) worse. 9 °
255 c.an, Q¢3-)', F: can : Qç I, 2 257 ber Q I : his Qç z-.f, F
274 Thrice F: These Qç l-.f 288 practtises Q
SEPTEMBER.
95
Crumertall) purse. Brace) compasse. Encheson) occasion. Ouergrast)
ouergrowen with grasse. Galage) shoe. The grosse) the whole.
Buxome and bent) meeke and obedient.
Saxon king) K. Edgare, that reigned here in Brytanye in the yeare of our
Lorde. Which king caused ail the Wolues, xhereofthen was store in
thys countrye, by a proper Folicie to be destroyed. So as neuer since that
time, tlaere haue ben Wolues laere founde, vtlesse they uere brought from
other countryes. And therefore Hobbinoll rebuketh him of vntruth, for
saying there be Wolues in Enghnd.
Nor in Christendome) This saying seemeth to be strange and vnreasonable: 3o0
but indede it ,,vas ",vont to be an olde prouerbe and comen phrase. The
original whereof was, for that most part of England in the reigne of king
Ethelbert svas christened, Kent onely except, which remayned long after in
mysbeliefe and vnchristened, So that Kent was counted no part of
Christendome.
Great hunt) Executing of lawes and iustice. Enaunter) least that.
Inly) inwardly. Afforesayde. Privie or pert) openly sayth Chaucer.
Roffy) The naine of a shepehearde in Marot his JEglogue of Robin and
the Kinge. Whome he here commendeth for greate care and wise gouernance
of his flock. 3o
Colin doute) Nowe I thinke no man doubteth but by Colin is euer meante the
Authour selfe. Whose especiall good freend Hobbinoll sayth he is, or
more fighdy Mayster Gabfiel Haruey: of whose speciall commendation,
aswell in Poetrye as Rhetorike and other choyce learning, we haue lately
had a sufficient tryall in diuerse his workes, but specially in his Musarum
Lachrymoe, and his late Gratulationum Valdinensium which boke in
the progresse at Audley in Essex, he dedicated in writing to her Maiestie.
Afterward presenting the saine in print vnto her Highnesse at the worship-
full Maister Capdls in Hertfordshire. Beside otlaer his sundrye most rare
and very notable writings, partely vnder vnknown Tytles, and partly vnder 32o
counterfayt names, as hys Tyrannomastix, his Ode Natalitia, his Rameidos,
and esspecially that parte of Philomusus, his diuine Anticosmopolita, and
diuers other of lyke imFortance. As also by the names of other
shepheardes, he couereth the persons of diuers other his familiar freendes
and best acquayntaunce.
This raie of Roffy seemeth to coloure some particular Action of his. But
what, I certeinlye know hot.
Wonned) haunted. Welkin) skie. AtToresaid.
A Weanell waste) a weaned youngling. Hidder and shidder) He and she.
Maie and Female. Steuen) Noyse. Beliue) quickly. What 33 °
euer) Ouids verse translated. Quod caret alterna requie, durabih non est.
Forehaile) drawe or distresse. Vetchie) of Pease strawe.
This is the saying of Narcissus in Ouid. For when the foolishe boye
by beholding hys face in the brooke, fell in loue with his owne likenesse : and
295 l)ateomittedin Qq, F 307 Priuy F: Preuely Qq 39 Weanell
Q¢ I-4 : weaned Q $, F
9 6
THE SHI.VHEARDI5 L;ALLNDLK.
hot hable to content him selle with much looking thereon, he cryed out, tht
plentye made him poore, meaning that much gazing had bereft him of sente.
But our Diggon vseth it to other purpose, as who that by tryall of many
wayes had founde the worst, and through greate plentye was fallen into
great penurie. This poesie I knowe, to haue bene much vsed of the author, 34o
and to suche like effecte, as fyrste Narcissus spake it.
October.
Egloga decima.
ARGVMENT.
l Cuaaie i« tet out tte aOerfecte paterne of a Poete, .whiche jqnding no main-
naunce of hit ttate and ttudiet, complayneth of the contemple of Poetrie, and
the cau«e« thereof : Speciaily hauing bene in ai1 age«, and euen amongtt the mort
barbarout alayet of tingular accounaOt and honor, and being indede to worthy
and eommendable an arte : or rather no arte, but a diuine gift and heauenly inttinct
hot to ber gotten by laboure and learning, but adornecl -whh both : and poured into
tte witte by a certaine b0v,o-/;, and celettlaii intpiration, at tte a4uttmr
hereof eit tere at large ditcourteth, in tit booke called tte Englitt Poete, hict
book« b«ing lat«iy corne to my tmnd«, I mynde alto by Godt gra«« "opon furtt«r
adui«ement to publish.
336 lookng Q t 337 poore, Qq -5, F: poore. Q t 338
out Diggon Qq I, a : Diggon Qq 3-5, F 340 Q 5, F omit great
ARO x .whithe Q i 7 Enthoutia«mot F: Kithoutiatmot Qq 2-f
OCTOBER. 97
PIERCE. CVDDIE.
Vddie, for shame hold vp thy heauye head,
And let vs cast with what delight to chace,
And weary thys long lingring Phwbus race.
Whilome thou wont the shepheards laddes to leade,
In rymes, in ridles, and in bydding base:
Now they in thee, and thou in sleepe art dead.
CVDDYE.
Piers, I haue pyped erst so long with payne,
That ail mine Oten reedes bene rent and wore :
And my poore Muse hath spent her spared store,
Yet little good hath got, and much lesse gayne.
Such pleasaunce makes the Grashopper so poore,
And ligge so layd, when Winter doth her straine :
IO
The dapper ditties, that I wont deuise,
To feede youthes rancie, and the flocking ri'y,
Delighten much: what I the bett for thy ?
They han the pleasure, I a sclender prise.
I beate the bush, the byrds to them doe flye:
What good thereof to Cuddie can arise ?
PIRES.
Cuddie, the prayse is better, then the price,
The glory eke much greater then the gayne:
0 what an honor is it, to restraine
The lust of lawlesse youth with good aduice:
Or pricke them forth with pleasaunce of thy vaine,
Whereto thou list their trayned willes entice.
20
Soone as thou gynst to sette thy notes in frame,
O how the rurall routes to thee doe cleaue:
Seemeth thou dost their soule of sence bereaue,
Ail as the shepheard, that did fetch his dame
From Plutoes balefull bowre withouten leaue:
His musicks might the hellish hound did rame.
chace, Q5", F: chace: Qq 1-4.
the bett Qq I-4, F; bett Q)"
30
6 dead. Q5", F: dead ? Qq 1- 4
7 thou Qq 1, o: tho Qq3-Y' F
SENSER I H
9 8 THE SHEr'l-i.e, AKlg t/iLILINI31LK.
CVDDIE.
So praysen babes the Peacoks spotted traine,
And wondren at bright lrgus blazing eye:
But who rewards him ere the more for thy ?
Or feedes him once the fuller by a graine ?
Sike prayse is smoke, that sheddeth in the skye,
Sike words bene wynd, and wasten soone in vayne.
PIERS.
Abandon then the base and viler clowne,
Lyft vp thy selfe out of the lowly dust:
And sing of bloody Mars, of wars, of giusts,
Turne thee to those, that weld the awful crowne. 40
To doubted Knights, whose woundlesse armour rusts,
And helmes vnbruzed wexen dayly browne.
There may thy Muse display her fluttryng wing,
And «tretch her selfe at large from East to West:
Whither thou list in fayre Elisa rest,
Or if thee please in bigger notes to sing,
Aduaunce the worthy whome shee loueth best,
That first the white beare to the stake did bring.
And when the stubborne stroke of stronger stounds,
Has somewhat slackt the tenor of thy string : 5o
Of loue and lustihead tho mayst thou sing,
And carrol lowde, and leade the Myllers rownde,
Ail were Elisa one of thilke same ring.
So mought our Cuddies name to Heauen sownde.
CVDDYE.
Indeede the Romish gîtyrus, I heare,
Through his Meceenas left his Oaten reede,
Whereon he earst had taught his flocks to feede,
And laboured lands to yield the timely eare,
And eft d id sing of warres and deadly drede,
So as the Heauens did quake his verse to here. 6o
39 giusts Q z : guists Qq a- 4 : gusts Q.f, F
F: strong Qq 4, .f
49 stronger Qq 1-3,
OCTOBER.
99
But ah Mecwnas is yclad in claye,
And great Augustus long ygoe is dead:
And ail the worthies liggen wrapt in leade,
That matter made for Poets on to play:
For euer, who in derring doe were dreade,
The loftie verse of hem was loued aye.
But after vertue gan for age to stoupe,
And mighty manhode brought a bedde of ease:
The vaunting Poets round nought worth a pease,
To put in preace emong the learned troupe. 7o
Tho gan the streames of flowing wittes to cease,
And sonnebright honour pend in shamefuil coupe.
And if that any buddes of Poesie,
Yet of the old stocke gan to shoote agayne:
Or it mens follies more be forst to fayne,
And folle with test in v/mes of rybaudrye :
Or as it sprong, it wither must agayne:
Tom Piper makes vs better melodie.
PIERS.
O pierlesse Poesye, where is then thy place ?
If nor in Princes pallace thou doe sitt: 8o
(And yet is Princes pallace the most fitt)
Ne brest of baser birth doth thee embrace.
Then make thee winges of thine aspyring wit,
And, whence thou camst, flye backe to heauen apace.
CVDDIE.
Ah Percy it is all to weake and wanne,
So high to sore, and make so large a flight:
Her peeced pyneons bene hot so in plight,
For Colin fittes such famous flight to scanne:
He, were he hot with loue so ill bedight,
Would mount as high, and sing as soote as Swanne. 9o
65 dreade Q I: deade Q¢ , 3: dead Q¢ 4, f, F 66 ay¢. / I-- 4,
F: aye, Q5 75 be forst Q: to forst Q-f: to force F 76
rvbaudrye : Qq 4.5", F: rybaudrye. Qq r- 3 "/8 Piper Q ,r. F: piper
Q¢ a-5" 79 thy Q¢3-f, F: the Qq 1, a 8o nor Q7 1- 4 : hot Qf
doe Qq I, 2: doest Q¢3-S: doost F
H2
xoo THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
PIRES.
Ah fon, for loue does teach him climbe so hie,
And lyftes him vp out of the loathsome myre:
Such immortall mirrhor, as he doth admire,
Would rayse ones mynd aboue the starry skie.
And cause a caytiue corage to aspire,
For lofty loue doth loath a lowly eye.
CVDDIE.
All otherwise the state of Poet stands,
For lordly loue is such a Tyranne fell:
That where he rules, all power he doth expell.
The vaunted verse a vacant head demaundes, xoo
Ne wont with crabbed care the Muses dwell.
Vnwisely weaues, that takes two webbes in hand.
Who euer casts to compasse weightye prise,
And thinks to throwe out thondring words of threate :
Let powre in lauish cups and thriftie bitts of meate,
For Bacchus fruite is frend to Pha'bus wise.
And when with Wine the braine begins to sweate,
The nombers flowe as fast as spring doth ryse.
Thou kenst not Perciæ howe the ryme should rage.
0 if my temples were distaind with wine, to
And girt in girlonds of wild Yuie twine,
How I could reare the Muse on stately stage,
And teache her tread aloft in bus-kin fine,
V'ith queint Bellona in her equipage.
But ah my corage cooles ere it be warme,
For thy, content vs in thys humble shade:
Where no such troublous tydes han vs assayde,
Here we our slender pipes may safely charme.
PIRES.
And when my Gates shall han their bellies layd:
Cuddie shall haue a Kidde to store his farme.
Cuddies Embleme.
,/lgitante calescimus illo &c.
96 a CVDDIE. Qq 3-5, F: ora. Qq i, 2 99 expell. Qq I, 2:
expell, Qq 3-)', F I OO--I demaundes .... dwell, Qq i-)-: demaundes,
.... dwell : F x 6 For thy, Qq r, 2: F or thy Q 3-5, F
OCTOBER. IOI
GLOSSE.
This Eglogue is ruade in imitation of Theocritus his xvi. Idilion, wherein
hee reproued the Tyranne Hiero of 8yracuse for his nigardise towarde
Poetes, in whome is the power to make men immortal for theyr good dedes,
or shameful for their naughty lyre. 2_nd the lyke also is in Mantuane,
The style hereof as also that in Theocritus, is more loftye then the test,
and applyed to the heighte of Poeticall witte.
Cuddie) I doubte whether by Cuddie be specified the authour selle, or some 13o
other. For in the eyght Eglogue the saine person was brought in, singing
a Camion of Colins making, as he sayth. ;o that some doubt, that the
persons be different.
Whilome) sometime. Oaten reedes)/kuena.
Ligge so layde) lye so faynt and vnlustye. Dapper) pretye.
Frye) is a bold Metaphore, forced from the spawning fishes. For the multitude
of young fish be called the frye.
To restraine.) This place seemeth to conspyre with Plato, who in his first
booke de Legibus sayth, that the first inuention of Poetry was of 'ery
vertuous intent. For at what rime an infinite number of youth vsually t4o
came to theyr great solemne feastes called Panegyrica, which they vsed
euery fiue yeere to hold, some learned man being more hable then the test,
for speciall gyftes of wytte and Musicke, would take vpon him to sing fine
verses to the people, in prayse eyther of verrue or of victory or of immor-
tality or such like. A.t whose uonderful gyft al men being astonied and as
it were rauished, with delight, thinking (as it was indeed) that he was
inspired from aboue, called him ratera: which kinde of men afterwarde
framing their verses to lighter musick (as of musick be many kinds, some
sadder, some lighter, some martiall, some heroical : and so diuersely eke
affect the mynds of men)round out lighter marrer of Poesie also, some
playing wyth loue, some scorning at mens fashions some powred out in
pleasures, and so were called Poetes or makers.
Sence bereaue) what the secrete working of Musick is in the myndes of men,
aswell appeareth, hereby, that some of the auncient Philosophers, and those
the moste wise, as Plato and Pythagoras held for opinion, that the mynd
was ruade of a certaine harmonie and musicall nombers, for the great
compassion and likenes of affection in thone and in the other as also by that
memorable history of aeklexander: to whom uhen as Timotheus the great
Musitian playd the Phrygian melodie, it is said, that he was distraught
with such vnwonted fury, that streight way rysing from the table in great I6o
rage, he caused himselfe to be armed, as ready to goe to warre (for that
musick is *ery war like :) And immediatly uhenas the Musitian chaunged
his stroke into the Lydian and Ionique harmony, he was so furr from
warring, that he sat as styl, as if he had bene in matters of counsell. Such
might is in musick. Wherefore Plato and Aristotle forbid the Arabian
t34 Auena Qq I, 2 : Avenae Qq 3-5, F i48 be Qq I-4 : there be
Q 5, F 151 playing Qq l- 3, F: plying Qq 4, )" 163 furr Q :
furre {q 2, J: farre Q 4: far Q 5, F I64 marres O 165
2_rabian Qq 3-ç, F: Aradian Qq i, 2
o2 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Melodie from children and youth. For that being altogither on the fyft and
vii, tone, itis of great force to molifie and quench the kindly courage,
which vseth to burne in yong brests. So that itis not incredible which
the Poete here sayth, that Musick can bereaue the soule of senee.
The shepheard that) Orpheus : of whom is sayd, that by his excellent skil in 170
Musick and Poetry, he recouered his wife Eurydice from hell.
Argus eyes) of Argus is before said, that Iuno to him committed hir husband
Iupiter his Paragon Iô, bicause he had an hundred eyes: but afterwarde
Mercury wyth hys Musick lulling Argus aslepe, slew him and brought lô
away, whose eyes it is sayd that luno for his eternall memory placed in her
byrd the Peacocks tayle. For those coloured spots indeede resemble eyes.
Woundlesse armour) vnwounded in warre, doe rust through long peace.
Display) A poeticall metaphore : whereof the meaning is, that if the Poet list
showe his skill in marrer of more dignitie, then is the homely ASglogue,
good occasion is him offered of higher veyne and more Heroicall argument, 18o
in the person of out most gratious soueraign, whom (as before) he calleth
Elisa. Or if mater of knighthoode and cheualrie please him better,
that there be many Noble and valiaunt men, that are both worthy of
his payne in theyr deserued prayses, and also fauourers of hys skil and
faculty.
The worthy) he meaneth (as I guesse) the most honorable and renowmed the
Erle of Leycester, whom by his cognisance (although the saine be also
proper to other) rather then by his naine he bewrayeth, being hot likely,
that the mmes of noble princes be known to country clowne.
Slack) that is when thou chaungest thy verse from stately discourse, to marrer I9O
of more pleasaunce and delight.
The Millers) a kind of daunce. Ring) company of dauncers.
The Romish Tityrus) wel knowen to be Virgile, who by Mecoenas means was
brought into the thuour of the Emperor Augustus, and by him moued
to write in Ioftier kinde, then he erst had doen.
Whereon) in these three verses are the three seuerall workes of Virgile
intended. For in teaching his flocks to feede, is meant his ASglogues.
In labouring of lands, is hys Bucoliques. In singing of wars and deadly
dreade, is his diuine ASneis figured.
In derring doe) In manhoode and cheualrie. 2oo
For euer) He sheweth the cause, why Poetes were wont be had in such honor
of noble men ; that is, that by them their worthines and valor shold through
theyr famous Posies be commended to al posteritles. rherfore it is sayd,
that Achilles had neuer bene so famous, as he is, but for Homeres
immortal verses. Which is the only aduantage, which he had of Hector.
And also that Alexander the great comming to his tombe in Sigeus, with
18 9 noble Qq I- 4 : worldly Q 5, F clowne Qq I, 2 : clownes
Qq ,{--5 19 ° from stately discourse Qq 1, 2: from stately course Qq 3,
4: tostately course, QS, F I93 Tityrus Qq I-3, F: T;ryrus 4:
Tytlrus Q5 knowêtobe QI: knowentobee Q2: knowno e Q3:
know noble Q 4 : knew noble Q5, F 198 Bucoliques Qq I, 2 :
Georgiques Qq 3-.f, F
OCTOBER. io 3
naturall teares blessed him, that euer was his hap tobe honoured with so
excellent a Poets work : as so renowmed and ennobled onely by hys meanes.
Which being declared in a most eloquent Oration of Tullies, is of Petrarch
no lesse worthely sette forth in a sonet
Giunto Alexandro a la famosa tomba
Del fero Achille sosplrando disse
O fortunato che si chiara tromba. Trouasti &c.
And that such account hath bene alwayes made of Poetes, aswell sheweth
this that the worthy Scipio in ail his warres against Carthage and Numantia
had euermore in his company, and that in a most familiar sort the good
olde Poet Ennius : as also that Alexander destroying Thebes, when he was
enformed that the famous Lyrick Poet Pindarus was borne in that citie, hot
onely commaunded streightly, that no man should vpon payne of death
do any violence to that house by tire or otherwise : but also specially spared
most, and some highly rewarded, that were of hys kinne. So fauoured he
the only naine of a Poete. Whych prayse otherwise was in the same man
no lesse famous, that when he came to ransacking of king Dafius coffers,
whom he lately had ouerthrowen, he founde in a little coffer of siluer the
two bookes of Homers works, as layd vp there for speciall iewells and
richesse, which he taking thence, put one of them dayly in his bosome, and
thother euery night layde vnder his pillowe. Such honor haue Poetes
alwayes found in the sight of princes and noble men. Which this author here
very well sheweth, as els where more notably.
But after) he sheweth the cause of contempt of Poetry to be idlenesse 530
and basenesse of mynd. Pent) shut vp in slouth, as in a coope or cage.
Tom piper) An Ironicall Sarcasmus, spoken in derision of these rude wits,
whych make more account of a ryming rybaud, then of skill grounded vpon
learning and iudgment.
Ne brest) the meaner sort of men. Her peeced pineons) vnperfect skil.
Spoken wyth humble modestie.
As soote as Swanne) The comparison seemeth to be strange : for the swannc
bath euer vonne small commendation for ber swete singing : but it is sayd
of the learned that the swan a little before hir death, singeth most pleasantly,
as prophecying by a secrete instinct her neere destinie As wel sayth z4o
the Poete elswhere in one of his sonetts.
The siluer swanne doth sing before ber dying day
As shee that feeles the deepe delight that is in death &c.
Immortall myrrhour) Beauty, which is an excellent obiect of Poeticall spirites,
as appeareth by the worthy Petrachs saying.
Fiorir faceua il mio debile ingegno
A la sua ombra, et crescer ne gli affanni.
A caytiue corage) a base and abiect minde.
For lofty loue) I think this playing with the letter to be rather a fault
208 meates Qq t- 3 : meane Qq 4,5, F 2o by tire Qq t, 2 : oto.
Qq3-Y, F ,-,-6 taking Qq I-4, F: taketh Q)- 232 Sarcasmus
Qq 3-Y, F: Sacrasmus Qq l, 2
o4 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
then a figure, aswd in our English tongue, as it hath bene alwayes in 250
the Latine, called Cacozelon.
A ,acant) imitateth Mantuanes saying, vacuum curis dluina cerebrum Poscit.
Lauish cups) Reserableth that comen verse Foecundi calices quem non fecere
disertum.
O if my) He seemeth here to be rauished with a Poetical furie. For (if one
rightly mark) the numbers fise so fui, and the verse groweth so big, that it
seemeth he hath forgot the meanenesse of shepheards state and stile.
XVild yuie) for it is dedicated to Bacchus and therefore it is sayd that
the Moenades (that is Bacchus franticke pfiestes) vsed in theyr sacrifice to
carry Thyrsos, which were pointed staues or Iaudins, wrapped about with 260
yuie.
In buskin) it was the marier of Poetes and plaiers in tragedies to were buskins,
as also in Comedies to vse stockes and light shoes. So that the buskin in
Poetry is vsed for tragical matter, as is said in Virgile. Sola sophocleo tua
carmina digna cothurno. And the like in Horace, Magnum loqui, nitique
cothurno.
Queint) strange Bel|ona ; the goddesse of battai|e, that is Pal|as, which may
therefore wel be called queint for that (as Lucian saith) when Iupiter
hir father was in traueile of her, he caused his sonne Vulcane with his axe
to hew his head. Out of which leaped forth lustely a valiant darasell 27o
armed at all poyntes, whom seeing Vulcane so faire and comely, lightly
leaping to her, proferred her some cortesie, which the Lady disdeigning,
shaked her speare at him, and threatned his saucinesse. Therefore
such straungenesse is well applyed to her.
2'Equipage.) order. Tydes) seasons.
Charme) retaper and order. For Charmes were wont to be made by verses as
Ouid sayth. Aut si carminibus.
Emblerae.
Hereby is mean h as also in the whole course of this 2'Eglogue, that Poetry is
a diuine instinct and vnnatural rage passing the reache of coraen reason. 28o
,Vhorn Piers answereth Epiphonematicos as adrairing the excellencye of the
skyll whereof in Cuddie hee hadde alreadye hadde a taste.
57 hath Qç l-4t: had Q.f, F 264 as is Qç»-', F: as it Qr
270 forth Qç l-6g : out ., F 28 Epiphoneraaticos Qç 1, 2 : lipipho-
nematicos (ç $-, F admiring Qç 1, : adraitting o.Q.f/3-, F
Nouember.
/Egloga vndecima.
ARGVMENT.
IN t»i« xi. Eglogut ]t te.wa),let]o t]oe deatt of tome raayden of grtate Moud,
Iora Ie calIeth 1)ido. Tbe lOersonagt is score/e, and fo rat aItogttJoer "vnnoevne,
albe of Iim selfe I of ton required tle sa,ne. Tbis Eglogue is raadt in iraitation of
Marot lois song, .w]oi:]o ]oe ruade «on t]oe deat]o of Loys dot frenc]ot (.Queene.
But farre aOassng lois rtacbe, and in rayne otinion ail otber tbt JEglogues of t]is
oote.
THENOT. CLIN.
Olin my deare, when shall it please thee sing,
As thou were wont songs of some iouisaunce?
Thy Muse to long slombreth in sorrowing,
Lulled a sleepe through loues misgouernaunce.
Now somewhat sing, whose endles souenaunce,
Emong the shepeheards swaines may aye remaine,
Whether thee list thy loued lasse aduaunce,
Or honor Pan with hymnes of higher vaine.
COLIN.
Thenot, now nis the rime of merimake.
Nor Pan to herye, nor with loue to playe: o
ARa. 21 altSe Qq I, 2 : albeit Qq 3-)', F 2 were Qq 1-4 : wert Q)', F
4 misgouernaunce, a': misgouernaunce, Qq 1- 5, 7 Whether Qq 1-4, ':
whither Q 5 9 merimake. Q I-5: mery-make, F
x c6 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Sike myrth in May is meetest for to make,
Or summer shade vnder the cocked haye.
But nowe sadde Winter welked hath the day,
And Ph,bus weary of his yerely taske,
Ystabled hath his steedes in lowlye laye,
And taken vp his ynne in Fishes haske.
Thilke sollein season sadder plight doth aske:
And loatheth sike delightes, as thou doest prayse:
The mornefull Muse in myrth now list ne maske,
As shee was wont in youngth and sommer dayes. 2o
But if thou algate lust light virelayes,
And looser songs of loue to vnderfong
Who but thy selle deserues sike Poetes prayse ?
Relieue thy Oaten pypes, that sleepen long.
THENOT.
The Nightingale is souereigne of song,
Before him sits the Titmose silent bee:
And I wafitte to thrust in skilfull thronge,
Should Colin make iudge of my fooleree.
Nay, better learne of hem, that learned bee,
And han be watered at the Muses well: 30
The kindlye dewe drops from the higher tree,
And wets the little plants that lowly dwell.
But if sadde winters wrathe and season chill,
Accorde not with thy Muses meriment:
To sadder times thou mayst attune thy quill,
And sing of sorrowe and deathes dreeriment.
For deade is Dido, dead alas and drent,
Dido the greate shepehearde his daughter sheene:
The fayrest May she was that euer went,
Her like shee has hOt left behinde I weene. 40
And if thou wilt bewayle my wofull tene:
I shall thee giue yond Cosset for thy payne:
And if thy rymes as rownd and rufull bene,
As those that did thy Rosalind complayne,
x4 taske, F: taske: Qq 1- 5 15 Ystabled Qq i-4: Ystablished Q f:
Ystablisht F 7 sollein Qq z-j: sollen Q4: sullen QS- F t8
loatheth Qqz- 3, F: loathed Qq4,.f zz vnderfong Qqz-.f: vnderfong:
F z 3 s ike Qq z-4: l ike Q 5, F 35 sadder Qq z-3, F: sad Qq 4, .f
NOVEMBER.
o7
Much greater gyfts for guerdon thou shalt gayne,
Then Kidde or Cosset, which I thee bynempt:
Then vp I say, thou iolly shepeheard swayne,
Let hOt my small demaund be so contempt.
COLIN.
Tkenot to that I choose, thou doest me tempt,
But ah to well I wote my humble vaine, .50
And howe my rymes bene rugged and vnkempt:
Yet as I conne, my conning I will strayne.
P then Melpomene thou mournefulst Muse of nyne,
Such cause of mourning neuer hadst afore:
Vp grieslie ghostes and vp my rufull ryme,
Matter of myrth now shalt thou haue no more.
For dead shee is, that myrth thee made of yore.
Dido my deare alas is dead,
Dead and lyeth wrapt in lead:
O heauie herse, 60
Let streaming teares be poured out in store:
O carefull verse.
Shepheards, that by your flocks on Kenfish downes abyde,
Waile ye this wofull waste of natures warke:
Waile we the wight, whose presence was our pryde:
Waile we the wight, whose absence is out carke.
The sonne of ail the world is dimme and darke:
The earth now lacks her wonted light,
And all we dwell in deadly night,
O heauie herse. 70
Breake we out pypes, that shrild as lowde as Larke,
O carefull verse.
Why doe we longer liue, (ah why liue we so long)
Whose better dayes death hath shut vp in woe?
The fayrest floure our gyrlond all emong,
Is faded quite and into dust ygoe.
Sing now ye shepheards daughters, sing no moe
53 thou mournefulst . . . nyne Q 1: the mournfulst . . . nyne Q 2: the
mournfulst . . . nine Qq 3, 4 : the mournful . . . nine Q )-: the mournfull
.. nine F
xo8 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
The songs that Colin made in her prayse,
But into weeping turne your wanton layes,
O heauie herse, 8o
Now is time to dye. Nay time was long ygoe,
O carefull verse.
Whence is it, that the flouret of the field doth fade,
And lyeth buryed long in Winters bale:
Yet soone as spring his mantle doth displaye,
It floureth fresh, as it should neuer fayle ?
But thing on earth that is of most availe,
As vertues braunch and beauties budde,
Reliuen not for any good.
O heauie herse, 90
The braunch once dead, the budde eke needes must quaile,
O carefull verse.
She while she was, (that was, a woful word to sayne)
For beauties prayse and plesaunce had no pere:
So well she couth the shepherds entertayne,
With cakes and cracknells and such country chere.
Ne would she scorne the simple shepheards swaine,
For she would cal hem often heme
And giue hem curds and clouted Creame.
0 heauie herse, xoo
Als Colin cloute she would not once disdayne.
0 carefull verse.
But nowe sike happy cheere is turnd to heauie chaunce,
Such pleasaunce now displast by dolors dint:
Ail Musick sleepes, where death doth leade the daunce,
And shepherds wonted solace is extinct.
The blew in black, the greene in gray is tinct,
The gaudie girlonds deck her graue,
The faded flowres her corse embraue.
78 made Qq af_)- : made you F 79 layes, Qq af- 4 : layes. QS. F
80 herse, Qq,r-4: herse: Qs, F 84 baie: Qq,r-4: baie? Q)', F
85 mande Qq
fayle : Q)-, F 88 budde. Qq I, , : bud, Q.q 3-5, F 98 hem often
heme .Q,r: often heme Qq2-4: him oftenheame Qs, F 99 hem Q af:
him Qq -5, F xo 7 tinct, -Q9 af-4 : tinct : Q ,f, F xo8 deck Q9 af-4 :
deckt Q )-, F
NOVEMBER.
o 9
0 heauie herse, ,o
Morne nowe my Muse, now morne with teares besprint.
0 carefull verse.
O thou greate shepheard Lobbin, how great is thy griefe,
Where bene the nosegayes that she dight for thee:
The colourd chaplets wrought with a chiefe,
The knotted rushrings, and gilte Rosemaree?
For shee deemed nothing too deere for thee.
Ah they bene ail yclad in clay,
One bitter blast blewe all away.
0 heauie herse,
Thereof nought remaynes but the memoree.
0 carefull verse.
Ay me that dreerie death should strike so mortall stroke,
That can vndoe Dame natures kindly course:
The faded lockes faLl from the loftie oke,
The flouds do gaspe, for dryed is theyr sourse,
And flouds of teares flowe in theyr stead perforse.
The mantled medowes mourne,
Theyr sondry colours tourne.
O heauie herse,
The heauens doe melt in teares without remorse.
O carefull verse.
3o
The feeble flocks in field refuse their former foode,
And hang theyr heads, as they would learne to weepe:
The beastes in forest wayle as they were woode,
Except the Wolues, that chase the wandring sheepe:
Now she is gon that safely did hem keepe,
The Turtle on the bared braunch,
Laments the wound, that death did launch.
O heauie herse,
And Philomele ber song with teares doth steepe.
O carefull verse.
4o
I 14 thee : Qq z-4 : thee ? Q 5, F 5 colourd Qq z- 4, F: coloured
5 I 8 yclad Qq I-4, F : clad Q 5 28-9 mourne, ... tourne.
2-5, F: morune, . . . torune. Q z 32 carsefull Q z
Iio THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
The water Nymphs, that wont with her to sing and daunce,
And for her girlond Oliue braunches beare,
Now balefull boughes of Cypres doen aduaunce:
The Muses, that were wont greene bayes to weare,
Now bringen bitter Eldre braunches seare,
The fatall sisters eke repent,
Her vitall threde so soone was spent.
O heauie herse,
Morne now my Muse, now morne with heauie cheare.
O carefull verse.
O trustlesse state of earthly things, and slipper hope
Of mortal men, that swincke and sweate for nought,
And shooting wide, doe misse the marked scope:
Now haue I learnd (a lesson derely bought)
That nys on earth assuraunce to be sought :
For what might be in earthlie mould,
That did her buried body hould,
O heauie herse,
Yet saw I on the beare when it was brought
O carefull verse.
But maugre death, and dreaded sisters deadly spight,
And gates of hel, and fyrie furies forse:
She hath the bonds broke of eternall night,
Her soule vnbodied of the burdenous corpse.
Why then weepes Lobbin so without remorse ?
O Lobb, thy losse no longer lainent,
Dido nis dead, but into heauen hent.
O happye herse,
Cease now my Muse, now cease thy sorrowes sourse,
O ioyfull verse.
xTo
Why wayle we then ? why weary we the Gods with playnts,
As if some euill were to her betight?
She raignes a goddesse now emong the saintes,
That whilome was the saynt of shepheards light :
And is enstalled nowe in heauens hight.
x 55 doe Q I : doth Qq z-5" , F 159 hould, Qç 4, )', F: hould.
Qq l--] 171 Muse Qq l-3, F: Muses Qq 4,.f
NOVEMBER. x I
I see thee blessed soule, I see,
Walke in Elisian fieldes so free.
O happy herse, 8o
Might I once come to thee (O that I might)
O ioyfull verse.
Vnwise and wretched meta to weete whats good or iii,
We deeme of Death as doome of ill desert:
But knewe we fooles, what it vs bringes vntil,
Dye would we dayly, once it to expert.
No daunger there the shepheard can astert:
Fayre fieldes and pleasaunt layes there bette,
The fieldes ay fresh, the grasse ay greene :
O happy herse, xgo
Make hast ye shepheards, thether to reuert,
O ioyfull verse.
Dido is gone afore (whose turne shall be the next ?)
There liues shee with the blessed Gods in blisse,
There drincks she Nectar with Ambrosia mixt,
And ioyes enioyes, that mortall men doe misse.
The honor now of highest gods she is,
That whilome was poore shepheards pryde,
While here on earth she did abyde.
O happy herse, 200
Ceasse now my song, my woe now wasted is.
O ioyfull verse.
THENOT.
Ay francke shepheard, how bene thy verses meint
With doolful pleasaunce, so as I ne wotte,
Whether reioyce or weepe for great constrainte ?
Thyne be the cossette, well hast thow it gotte.
Vp Colin vp, ynough thou morned hast,
Now gynnes to mizzle, hye we homeward fast.
Colins Embleme.
La mort ny mord.
x78 theeQqz- 4 : the Q £, F
I IOE THE SI-IEPI-IEAKDEb ÇALE, rDE, K.
GLOSSE.
Iouisaunce) myrth. Souenaunce) remembraunce. Herie) honour.
Welkea) sortnea or empayrea. As the Moone being in the ,vaine is ayae
or" Liagate to welk.
In lowly lay) accoraing to te eaon of te moneth Nouember, when the
sonne araweth low in the Sout towara his Tropick or returne.
In se hake) te sonne, reigneth tat is, in te igne Pisces an Nouember.
A asUe is a wicUer va'l, wherein tey ,,e to car;, tsh.
Virelaie) a ligt kind of song.
Bee watrea) For it is a saying of Poetes, tha¢ they haue aronU or the Muses ¢20
well Castalias, whereot ,vas before suflciently saya.
Dreriment) areery ana eauy cheere.
Te great shepeara) is some man or igh aegree, ana hOt as some ,,ainely
supvose Goa Pari. The person bot of te shephearae ana of Dido
is vnnowen ana closely urea in te Authors conceipt. But out of doubt
I ara, tat it is hOt Rosalina, as some imagin : for he speaket oone after
of er alto.
Shene) fayre and shining. May) for mayde. Tene) orrow.
Guerdon) rewara. Bynempt) bequethed. Cosset) a lambe brought
vp witout te data. Vnkempt) Incompti Not comed, tat i rude ana
vnhansome.
Melpomene) The sadde and waylefull Muse vsed of Poets in honor of
Tragedies : as saith Viçgile Mdpomene Tragico proclamat moesta boatu.
Vp griesly gosts) The maner of Tragicall Poetes, to call for helpe of Furies
and damned ghostes : so is Fiecuba of Euripides, and Tantalus brought in
of Seneca. And the test of the test.
Fierse) is the solemne obsequie in funeralles.
Wast of) decay of so beautifull a peece. Carke) care.
Ah why) an elegant Epanorthosis. As also soone after. Nay tlme was long ago.
Flouret) a diminutiue for a litde floure. This is a notable and sententious z4o
comparison A minore ad maius.
Reliuen hot) liue hOt againe .s. hOt in theyr earthly bodies : for in heauen they
enioy their due reward.
The braunch) Fie meaneth Dido, who being, as it were the mayne braunch
now withered the buddes that is beautie (as he sayd afore) can no more
flourish.
With cakes) fit for shepheards bankets. Heame) for home. After the
northerne pronouncing. Tinct) deyed or stayned.
The gaudie) the meaning is, that the things, which were the ornaments of her
lyfe, are made the honor of her funerall, as is vsed in burialls, zS0
215 moneth Qç 2-4 : moneth of t 5, F 2 x î' reigneth tq z, 2 :
raygneth Q 3: raygned Qq 4, 5, F z 18 pad Qq z, 2: ped Qq 3-f, F
22 Castalias t¢3-.f , F: Castlias ¢ z, 2 230 comed q z- 4 : combed
.5, F z3z honor of Qq 1- 4 : honour and Q 5, F z33 boatu
q 1-3, f "- boatu Q 4 : batu .,¢ 240 diminutiue tç 3-5, F: dimum-
tine Qq I, z43 enioy t¢ I- 4 : receiue tf, F z48 Tinct
Qq 3-5", F: Tuict 7 I, .
NOVEMBER. x x 3
Lobbin) the name of a shepherd, which seemeth to haue bene the louer
and deere frende of Dido. Rushrings) agreeable for such base gyftes.
Faded Iockes) dryed leaues. As if Nature ber selle bewayled the death of
the Mayde.
$ourse) spring. Mamled medowes) for the sondry flowres are like a
Mantle or couerlet wrought with many colours.
Philomele) the Nightingale. Whome the Poetes faine once to haue bene a Ladye
of great beauty, till being rauished by hir sisters husbande, she desired to be
turned into a byrd of her naine. Whose complaintes be very well set forth of
Ma. George Gaskin a ,ittie gentleman, and the very chefe of out late 260
rymers, who and if some pattes of learning wanted hOt (albee it is well
knowen he altogyther wanted hot learning) no doubt would haue attayned to
the excellencye of those famous Poets. For gifts of wit and naturall
prompmesse appeare in hym aboundantly.
Cypresse) vsed of the old Paynims in the furnishing of their funerall Pompe.
And properly the signe of ail sorow and heauinesse.
The fatall sisters) Clotho Lachesis and Atropos, daughters of Herebus and
the Nighte, whom the Poetes fayne to spinne the lire of man, as it were a long
threde, which they drawe out in length, till his fatal howre and timely
death be corne ; but if by other casualtie his dayes be abridged, then one of 27o
them, that is Atropos, is sayde to haue cut the threde in twain. Hereof
commeth a common verse.
Clotho colura baiulat, lachesis trahir, Atropos occat.
O tru5tlesse) a gallant exclamation moralized with great wisedom and passion-
are wyth great affection. Beare) a frame, wheron they vse to lay the
dead corse.
Furies) of Poetes be feyned to be three, Persephone Alecto and Megera,
which are sayd to be the Authours of ail euill and mischiefe.
Eternall might) Is death or darknesse of hell. Betight) happened.
I see) A liuely Icon, or representation as if he saw her in heauen present. 280
Elysian fieldes) be deuised of Poetes to be a place of pleasure like Paradise,
where the happye soules doe rest in Peace and eternal happynesse.
Dye would) The very expresse saying of Plato in Phoedone.
Astert) befall vnwares.
Nectar and Ambrosia) be feigned to be the drink and foode of the gods :
Ambrosia they liken to Manna in scripture and Nectar to be white like
Creme, whereof is a proper raie of Hebe, that spilt a cup of it, and stayned
the heauens, as yet appeareth. But I haue already discoursed that at large
in my Commentarye vpon the dreames of the saine Authour.
Meynt) Mingled. 29o
Embleme.
Which is as much to say, as death biteth not. For although by course
of nature we be borne to dye, and being ripened with age, as with a timely
26o Ma .... Gaskin Qq 1, a: Ma. Gascoin Q3: Ma .... Gasconi
Q 4: M .... Gascoin Q.f, F z66 the signe of Qq3-.f, F: theof Qq 1,2
z67 Atropos, daughters Qq 3-5, F: Atropodas, ughters Qq I, 2 273
Atropos Qç3-5, F: Atrhpos Qq I, 2 83 express Qç3-5, F:
epresse Q9 I, 2
xI4 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
haruest, we must be gathered in time, or els of out selues we fall like
rotted ripe fruite fro the tree: yet death is hOt to be counted for euil, nor
(as the Poete sayd a litde before) as doome of iii desert. For though the
trespasse of the first man brought death into the world, as the guerdon
of sinne, yet being ouercome by the death of one, that dyed for al, it is
now made (as Chaucer sayth) the grene path way to lyfe. So that it
agreeth well with that was sayd, that Death byteth hot (,that is) hurteth 3oo
hOt at ail
December.
2Egloga Duodecima.
ARGVMENT.
od Pan. IVberein as ,weary of bis former ,wayes, be proportionetb bis lire to
tbe foure seasons of the yeare, comparing hys youthe to the spring rime, when he was
fresb and free from loues follye. His manboocle to tbe sommer, bicb be saytb, as
consumtd wit greate caSe and excessiue drout] caused tbrougbt a Cornet or blasinge
starre, by wbicb bec meanetb loue, wblcb passion is comenl æ compared to suc
dqames anti immotterate beate. Itïs rifier yeares bec resembletb to an nseasonable
barueste berein tbe fruites fall ere tbey be ry/¢. Itïs latter age to inters cbyll
and frostie season, noo draoing neare to bis last entte.
z99 to lyfe Q 1 : of life Qq a-.f, F At«. 7 beate, l'lïs fil)er Qq 1-- 4 :
heate, his ripest Q.f, F
DECEMBER.
T He gende shepheard satte beside a springe,
Ail in the shadowe of a bushye brere,
That Colin hight, which wel could pype and singe,
For he of Tityrus his songs did lere.
There as he satte in secreate shade alone,
Thus gan he make of loue his piteous morte.
O soueraigne Pan thou God of shepheards all,
Which of our tender Lambkins takest keepe:
And when our flocks into mischaunce mought fall,
Doest saue from mischiefe the vnwary sheepe :
Als of their maisters hast no lesse regarde,
Then of the flocks, which thou doest match and ward:
I thee beseche (so be thou deigne to heare,
Rude ditties tund to shepheards Oaten reede,
Or if I euer sonet song so cleare,
As it with pleasaunce mought thy fancie feede)
Hearken awhile from thy greene cabinet,
The rurall song of carefull Colinet.
Whilome in youth, when flowrd my ioyfull spring,
Like Swallow swift I wandred here and there:
For heate of heedlesse lust me so did sting,
That I of doubted daunger had no feare.
I went the wastefull woodes and forest wyde.
Withouten dreade of Wolues to bene espïed.
I wont to raunge amydde the mazie thickette,
And gather huttes to make me Christmas game:
And ioyed oft to chace the trembling Pricket,
Or hunt the hartlesse hare, til shee were rame.
What wreaked I of wintrye ages waste,
Tho deemed I, my spring would euer laste.
IO
How oftert haue I scaled the craggie Oke,
Ail to dislodge the Rauen of her neste:
I beside a Qq i- 3 : besiden Qq 4, : besides a F 5 song Qq -4 :
sung Qs, F 8 rurali Qq , : iaureli Qq3, 4: iawreli Qy, F z 9
What Qç I-4, F: That Qy Wreaked Qq i-2-: recked F 3 z neste:
Qq I-./: nest ? Qq 4, .f, F
I I6 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
Howe haue I wearied with many a stroke
The stately Walnut tree, the while the rest
Vnder the tree fell all for nuts at strife:
For ylike to me was libertee and lyre.
And for I was in thilke saine looser yeares,
(Whether the Muse so wrought me from my birth,
Or I tomuch beleeued my shepherd peres)
Somedele ybent to song and musicks mirth. 40
A good olde shephearde, H/'renock was his naine,
Made me by arte more cunning in the saine.
Fro thence I durst in derring doe compare
With shepheards swayne, what euer fedde in field:
And if that Hobbinol right iudgement bare,
To Pan his owne selle pype I neede not yield.
For if the flocking Nymphes did folow Pan,
The wiser Muses after Colin ranne.
But ah such pryde at length was ill repayde,
The shepheards God (perdic God was he none) 50
My hurtlesse pleasaunce did me ill vpbraide,
My freedome lorne, my lire he lefte fo mone.
Loue they him called, that gaue me checkmate,
But better mought they haue behote him Hate.
Tho gan my louely Spring bid me farewel,
And Sommer season sped him fo display
(For loue then in the Lyons house did dwell)
The raging lyre, that kindled ai his ray.
A comett stird vp that vnkindly heate,
That reigned (as men sayd) in I/enus seate. 6o
Forth was I ledde, not as I wont afore,
When choise I had to choose my wandring waye:
But whether luck and loues vnbridled fore
Would leade me forth on Fancies biffe fo playe,
The bush my bedde, the bramble was my bowre,
The Woodes can witnesse many a wofull stowre.
33 stroke Q 5 : stroke, Qq i-4, F 35 strife : Qq i- 4 : strife ? 5, F
38 Whether Qq I-4, F: Whither Q5 Muse F 2: Muse, Qq
43 Fro Qq ,r-5: From F derring doe (v. Gloss, p. I2O, 1. x): derring
to Qq 1- 5, F 63 whether Qq ,r- 3 : whither Qq 4, 5, F 64 playe,]
playe. Qq I, »: play. Qq.3-5, F
DECEMBER.
Where I was wont to seeke the honey Bee,
Working her formall rowmes in Wexen frame:
The grieslie Todestoole growne there mought I see
And loathed Paddocks lording on the same. 70
And where the chaunting birds luld me a sleepe,
The ghastlie Owle her grieuous ynne doth keepe.
Then as the springe giues place to elder rime,
And bringeth forth the fruite of sommers pryde:
All so my age now passed youngthly pryme,
To thinges of ryper reason selfe applyed.
And learnd of lighter timber cotes to frame,
Such as might saue my sheepe and me fro shame.
To make fine cages for the Nightingale,
And Baskets of bulrushes was my wont: 80
Who to entrappe the fish in winding sale
Was better seene, or hurtful beastes to hont ?
I learned als the signes of heauen to ken,
How Pha'be fayles, where Venus sittes and when.
And tryed rime yet taught me greater thinges,
The sodain rysing of the raging seas:
The soothe of byrds by beating of their wings,
The power of herbs, both which can hurt and ease:
And which be wont t'enrage the restlesse sheepe,
And which be wont to worke eternall sleepe. 90
But ah vnwise and witlesse Colin cloute,
That kydst the hidden kinds of many a wede:
Yet kydst not ene to cure thy sore hart roote,
Whose ranckling wound as yet does rifelye bleede.
Why liuest thou stil, and yet hast thy deathes wound ?
Why dyest thou stil, and yet aliue art founde ?
Thus is my sommer worne away and wasted,
Thus is my haruest hastened all to rathe:
6 9 see Qq 2-5, F: se Q 7 ° loathed Qq -4: loathing QS, F
75 Ail so . . . youthly Qq.]-5, F: Also . . . youngthly Qq I, 2 77
learnd Qq 1-4: learned
hunt ? F 84 Phoebe Qq -4 : Phoebus Q)', F 89 t'enrage Q)', F:
to tenrage Qq , 2 : tenrage Qq 3, 4
8 THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER.
The eare that budded faire, is burnt and blasted,
And all my hoped gaine is turnd to scathe.
Of all the seede, that in my youth was sowne,
Was nought but brakes and brambles to be mowne.
My boughes with bloosmes that crowned were at firste,
And promised of timely fruite such store,
Are left both bare and barrein now at erst:
The flattring fruite is fallen to grownd before,
And rotted, ere they were halfe mellow ripe:
My haruest wast, my hope away dyd wipe.
The fragrant flowres, that in my garden grewe,
Bene withered, as they had bene gathered long. o
Theyr rootes bene dryed vp for lacke of dewe,
Yet dewed with teares they han be euer among.
Ah who has wrought my Rosalind this spight
To spil the flowres, that should her girlond dight ?
And I, that whilome wont to frame my pype,
Vnto the shifting of the shepheards foote :
Sike follies nowe haue gathered as too ripe,
And cast hem out, as rotten and wsoote.
The loser Lasse I cast to please nomore,
One if I please, enough is me therefore.
And thus of ail my haruest hope I haue
Nought reaped but a weedye crop of care:
Which, when I thought haue thresht in swelling sheaue,
Cockel for corne, and chaffe for barley bare.
Soone as the chaffe should in the fan be fynd,
Ail was blowne away of the wauering wynd.
So now my yeare drawes to his latter terme,
My spring is spent, my sommer burnt vp quite:
My harueste hasts to stirre vp winter sterne,
And bids him clayme with rigorous rage hys right, x3o
So nowe he stormes with many a sturdy stoure,
So now his blustring blast eche coste doth scoure.
10 3 with bloosmes Qq z, : and bloosmes Qq3, 4 : and blossoms Q f, F
IO6 before, Qq4,.f, F: before. Q.qz- 3 II2 be Q.qz-4: beene
xx 3 .RolalindQzd 114 dight ? Qqt-5, F: dight, Qq z, 2 IZ 7 his
Qq 1-4 : my Q f, F
DECEMBER.
The carefull cold hath nypt my rugged rynde,
And in my face deepe furrowes eld hath pight:
My head besprent with hoary frost I fynd,
And by myne eie the Crow his clawe dooth wright.
Delight is layd abedde, and pleasure past,
No sonne now shines, cloudes han all ouercast.
Now leaue ye shepheards boyes your merry glee,
My Muse is hoarse and weary of thys stounde:
Here will I hang my pype vpon this tree,
Was neuer pype of reede did better sounde.
Winter is come, that blowes the bitter blaste,
And after Winter dreerie death does hast.
Gather ye together my little flocke,
My little flock, that was to me so liefe:
Let me, ah lette me in your folds ye lock,
Ere the breme Winter breede you greater griefe.
Winter is come, that blowes the balefull breath,
And after Winter commeth timely death.
Adieu delightes, that lulled me asleepe,
Adieu my deare, whose loue I bought so deare:
Adieu my little Lambes and loued sheepe,
Adieu ye Woodes that off my witnesse were:
Adieu good Hobbinol, that was so true,
Tdl Rosalind, her Colin bids her adieu.
Colins Embleme.
xx9
4o
GLOSSE.
Tityrus) Chaucer, as hath bene off sayd. Lambkins) young lambes.
Als of thelr) Semeth to expresse Virgils verse
Pan curat oues ouiumque magistros.
Deigne) voutchsafe. Cabinet) Colinet) dlminutlues.
Mazie) For they be like to a maze whence it is hard to get out agayne.
Peres) felowes and companions.
Musick) that is Poetry as Terence sayth Qui artem tractant musicam, speking
of Poetes.
x39 ye Qçt-4: you Q)-, F x46 so lieCe Q¢ t- 3 : so lire Q 4 :
most ]iefe Q )-, F i57 Qç and F omit Co]ins Embleme z59 Tityrus
Qç t- 3 : Tytirut Qç 4,)', F 62 Cabinet Qç 3-)', F: Eabinet Qç t, z
6o
1 20 THE SHEPHEARDES CALLINDLR.
Derring doe) aforesayd.
Lions house)He imagineth simply that Cupid, which is loue, had his abode
in the whote signe Leo, which is in middest ofsomer; a pretie allegory, where-
of the meaning is, that loue in him wrought an extraordinarie heate of lust. 70
His ray) which is Cupides beame or flames of Loue.
A Comete) a blasing starre, meant of beautie, which was the cause of his
whote loue.
Venus) the goddesse of beauty or pleasure. Also a signe in heauen, as it
is here taken. So he meaneth that beautie, which hath alwayes aspect to
Venus, was the cause of all his vnquietnes in loue.
Where I was) a fine discription of the chaunge of hys lyfe and liking ; for all
things nowe seemed to hym to haue altered their kindly course.
Lording) Spoken after the marier of Paddocks and Frogges sitting which is
indeed Lordly, hot remouing nor looking once a side, vnlesse they be sturred. I8o
Then as) The second part. That is his manhoode.
Cotes) sheepecotes. For such be the exercises of shepheards.
Sale) or Salow a kind of woodde like Wyllow, fit to wreath and bynde in
leapes to catch fish withall.
Phoebe fayles) The Eclipse of the Moone, which is alwayes in Cauda or
Capite Draconis, signes in heauen.
Venus) .s. Venus starre otherwise called Hesperus and Vesper and Lucifer,
both because he seemeth to be one of the brightest starres, and also first
ryseth and setteth last. Ail which sldll in starres being conuenient for
shepheardes to knowe as Theocritus and the rest vse. 19o
Raging seaes) The cause of the swelling and ebbing of the sea commeth of
the course of the Moone, sometime encreasing, sometime wayning and
decreasing.
Sooth of byrdes)
gathered by the
and from them
A kind of sooth saying vsed in elder tymes, which they
flying ofbyrds ; First (as is sayd) inuented by the Thuscanes,
deriued to the Romanes, who (as is sayd in Liuie) were so
supersticiously rooted in the saine, that they agreed that euery Nobleman
should put his sonne to the Thuscanes, by them to be brought vp in that
knowledge.
Of herbes) That wonderous thinges be wrought by herbes, aswell appeareth by zoo
the common working of them in out bodies, as also by the wonderful
enchauntments and sorceries that haue bene wrought by them ; insomuch
that it is sayde that Circe a famous sorceresse turned men into sondry kinds
of beastes and Monsters, and onely by herbes:as the Poete sayth
Dea soeua potentibus herbis &c.
Kidst) knewest. Eare) of corne. Scathe) losse hinderaunce.
Euer among) Euer and anone.
Thus is my) The thyrde parte wherein is set forth his ripe yeres as an
vntimely haruest, that bringeth little fruite.
The flagraunt flowres) sundry studies and laudable pattes of learning, wherein
how out Poete is seene, be they witnesse which are priuie to his study.
7 or Qq-3: °fQq4,f,F I84 leapes Qq'-J: heapes
18 9 skill Q.q3-f, F: still Qq z, i9o knowe as Qq , : know, Qq
3-.1", /' 195 niuented Q af 208 Thus Toddconj..: This Qq, F
DECEMBER. I OE l
So now tuf yeere) The last part, wherein is described his age by comparison
of wyntrye stormes.
Carefull cold) for tare is sayd to coole the blood. Glee) mirth
Hoary frost) A metaphore of hoary heares scattred lyke to a gray frost.
]3reeme) sharpe and bitter.
Adiew delights) is a conclusion of ail. Where in slxe verses he comprehendeth
briefly ail that was touched in this booke. In the first verse his delights of
youth generally. In the second, the loue of Rosalind, in the thyM, the
keeping of sheepe, which is the argument of ail Eglogues. In the fourth 22o
his complaints. And in the iast two his professed frendhip and good will
to his good friend Hobbinoll.
Embleme.
The meaning wherof is that ail thinges perish and corne to theyr last end, but
workes of learned wits and monuments of Poetry abide for euer. And
therefore Horace of his Odes a work though fui indede of great wit and
learning, yet of no so great weight and importaunce boldly sayth.
Exegi monimentum oere perennius,
Quod nec imber nec aquilo vorax &c.
Therefore let hot be enuied, that this Poete in his Epilogue sayth he hath ruade 23o
a Calendar, that shall endure as long as rime &c. folowing the ensample of
Horace and Ouid in the like.
Grande opus exegi quod nec Iouis ira nec ignis,
Nec ferrure poterit nec edax abolere vetustas &c.
Loe I haue ruade a Calender for euery yeare,
That aeele in arength, and rime in durance hall out¢,,eare :
/lnd if I mared vell the aarre reuolution,
It haR continee till the orld« dissolution.
To teh the ruder heheard ho to fiede his he,
nd from t»« falur: fraua »;, fdda fl« t
Goe lyttle Calender, tou a,t a free passerte,
Goe ut a loly gate ong, te te meaner aorte.
Dare hot to matc thy pype ith ïtyru, hy, ,tyle,
Nor it te Pilgrim tat te Plougman playde a ,yle:
But foliote tem#rre # and teir hig *tepe« adore,
Te etter [ea,e, te or,e de,i,e, I a,ke nomore.
Merce non mercede.
28 briefly Qç 1-4 : oto. Q5, F 225 Q5 om;ts of Poetry 230
Q.f omit« hath 233 quod Qq3-)', F: que Qq I, 2 234 ferrum
C2ç3-5, F: ferum Qq l, 2 239 ruder Qq 1-4, F: reader Qf 243
"lïtyru« Q 1, 2: Tytiru, Q3-, I;" 246 despise Q 1- 4 : dispiease Qf, F
24o
Imprlnted for vt]il/iam
;Ponfonbie, dwelling in Paules
Churchyardat trie figne of'
tbe t.[hop be,td.
A note of the sundrie Poemes contained
in this Volume.
I The Ruines of Time.
OE The Teares of the Muses.
3 Firgils Gnat.
4 Prosopopoia, or Mother Hubberds Tale.
5 The Ruines of Rome: by Bellay.
6 Muiopotmos, or The Tale of she I3utterflie.
7 Fisions of the IIorlds vanitie.
8 I3ellayes visions.
9 Petrarches visions.
The Printer to the
Gent& Reader.
INCE my late setting foorth of the
Faerie Queene, finding that it hath round
a fauourable passage amongst you;
I haue sithence endeuoured by all good
meanes (for the better encrease and
accomplishment of your delights,) to
get into my handes such smale Poemes
of the same Authors; as I heard were
disperst abroad in sundrie hands, and
hot easie to bee corne by, by himselfe; some of them hauing o
bene diuerslie imbeziled and purloyned from him, since his
departure ouer Sea. Of the which I haue by good meanes
gathered togeather these fewe parcels present, which I haue
caused to bee imprinted altogeather, for that they al seeme to
containe like matter of argument in them : being all complaints
and meditations of the worlds vanitie, verie graue and pro-
fitable. To which eff'ect I vnderstand that he besides wrote
sundrie others, namelie Ecdesiastes, and Canticum canticorum
translated, Ai senights slumber, 7he hell of louers, his Purgatorie,
being all dedicated to Ladies; so as it may seeme he ment o
them ail to one volume. Besides some other Pamphlets
looselie scattered abroad: as g'he dying Pellican, g'he howers of
the Lord, g'he sacrifice of a sinner, 7"he seuen Psalmes, &c.
which when I can either by himselfe, or otherwise attaine too,
I meane likewise for your fauour sake to set foorth. In the
meane time praying you gentlie to accept of these, and
graciouslie to entertaine the new Poet, I take leaue.
27 Poet. I Q: Poet; IF
Dedicated
To the right Noble and beauti-
full Ladie, the La. Marie
Countesse of Pembrooke.
OST Honourable and bountifull Ladie,
there bee long sithens deepe sowed in my
brest, the seede of most entire loue and
humble affection vnto that most braue
Knight your noble brother deceased; which
taking roote began in his lire time somewhat
to bud forth : and to shew themselues to him,
as then in the weakenes of their first spring :
....... ;.4nd would in their riper strength (had it
pleased high God till then to drawe out his daies) spired forth fru# o
of more perfection. But since God bath disdeigned the world
of that most noble Spirit, which was the hope of all learned
men, and the Patron of my young Muses; togeather with him both
their hope of anie further fru# was cut off: and also the tender
delight of those their first blossoms nipped and quite dead. l'et
sithens my late cumming into England, some frends of mine (which
might much preuaile with me, and indeede commaund me) knowing
with howe straight bandes of duetie I was tied to him : as also bound
vnto that noble bouse, (of which the chiefe hope then rested in him)
haue sought to reuiue them by vpbraiding, me: for that I haue hOt 2o
shewed anie thankefull remembrance towards him or any of them ;
but surfer their names to sleep in silence and forgeoCulnesse. IUhome
chieflie to satisfie, or els to auoide that fowle blot of vnthankefulnesse,
I haue conceiued this small Poeme, intituled by a generall naine of
the worlds Ruines: yet speciallie intended to the renowming of
that noble race, from which both you and he sprong, and to the
eternizing of some of the chiefe of them late deceased. The which
DEDICATORIE.
t27
I dedicate vnto your La. as whome it most speciallie concerneth:
and to whome [ acknowledge my selle bounden, by manie
singular fauours and great graces. Ipray for
your Honourable happinesse : and
so humblie kisse your
handes.
Your Ladiships euer
humblie at commaund.
3 3 Sandes F: Saudes Q
Ruines of 7ime.
I T chaunced me on day beside the shore
Of siluer streaming Thamesis to bee,
Nigh where the goodly Iérlame stood of yore,
Of which there now remaines no memorie,
Nor anie little moniment to see,
By which the trauailer, that fares that way,
This once was she, may warned be to say.
There on the other side, I did behold
A Woman sitting sorrowfullie wailing,
Rending her yeolow locks, like wyrie golde, o
About her shoulders careleslie downe trailing,
And streames of teares from her faire eyes forth railing.
In ber right hand a broken rod she held,
Which towards heauen shee seemd on high to weld.
Whether she were one of that Riuers Nymphes,
Which did the losse of some dere loue lament,
I doubt ; or one of those three fatall Impes,
Which draw the dayes of men forth in extent;
Or th'auncient Genius of that Citie brent:
But seeing her so piteouslie perplexed, o
I (to her calling) askt what ber so vexed.
Ah what delight (quoth she) in earthlie thing,
Or comfort can I wretched creature haue?
Whose happines the heauens enuying,
From highest staire to lowest step me draue,
And haue in mine owne bowels ruade my graue,
That of ail Nations now I am forlorne,
The worlds sad spectacle, and fortunes scorne.
x one day F siluer-streaming F x o yellowe F
THE RVINES OF TIME. I29
Much was I mooued at her piteous plaint,
And felt my heart nigh riuen in my brest 30
With tender ruth to see her sore constraint,
That shedding teares awhile I still did rest,
And after did her name of her request.
Name haue I none (quoth she) nor anie being,
Bereft of both by Fates vniust decreeing.
I was that Citie, which the garland wore
Of BHtaines pride, deliuered vnto me
B)' Romane Victors, which it wonne of)'ore;
Though nought at ail but ruines now I bee,
And lye in mine owne ashes, as ye see: 40
Ierlame I was; what bootes it that I was,
Sith now I am but weedes and wastfull gras ?
O vaine worlds glorie, and vnstedfast state
Of ail that liues, on face of sinfull earth,
Which from their first vntill their vtmost date
Tast no one hower of happines or merth,
But like as at the ingate of their berth,
They crying creep out of their mothers woomb,
So wailing backe go to their wofull toomb.
Wh), then dooth flesh, a bubble glas of breath, o
Hunt after honour and aduauncement vaine,
And reare a trophee for deuouring death,
With so great labour and long lasting paine,
As if his daies for euer should remaine ?
Sith al/that in this world is great or gaie,
Doth as a vapour vanish, and decaie.
Looke backe, who list, vnto the former ages,
And cal/to count, what is of them become:
Where be those learned wits and antique Sages,
Which of al/wisedome knew the perfect somme: 6o
Where those great warriors, which did ouercomme
The world with conquest of their might and maine,
And ruade one meare of th'earth and of their raine ?
3z teares, F 33 after, F 44 earth! F 63 raigne F
x3o
THE RVINES OF "IINIL.
What nowe is of th'lssyrian Lyonesse,
Of whome no footing now on earth appeares ?
What of the Persian Beares outragiousnesse,
Whose memorie is quite worne out with yeares ?
Who of the Grecian Libbard now ought heares,
That ouerran the East with greedie powre,
And left his whelps their kingdomes to deuoure ? 70
And where is that same great seuen headded beast,
That made ail nations vassals of her pride,
To fall before her feete at her beheast,
And in the necke of all the world did ride ?
Where doth she ail that wondrous welth nowe hide ?
With her own weight down pressed now shee lies,
And by her heaps her hugenesse testifies.
0 Rome thy ruine I lament and rue,
And in thy fall my fatall ouerthrowe,
That whilom was, whilst heauens with equall vewe 8o
I')eignd to behold me, and their gifts bestowe,
The picture of thy pride in pompous shew:
And of the whole world as thou wast the Empresse,
So I of this small Northerne world was Princesse.
To tell the beawtie of my buildings fayre,
Adornd with purest golde, and precious stone;
To tell my riches, and endowments rare
That by my foes are now all spent and gone:
To tell my forces matchable to none,
Were but lost labour, that few would beleeue,
And with rehearsing would me more agreeue.
High towers, faire temples, goodly theaters,
Strong walls, rich porches, princelie pailaces,
Large streetes, braue houses, sacred sepulchers,
Sure gares, sweete gardens, stately galleries,
Wrought with faire pillours, and fine imageries,
Al/those (O pitie) now are turnd to dust,
And ouergrowen with blacke obliuions rust.
84 Princesse. F: P, inces.*e, Q
9 °
THE RVINES OF TIME.
Theretoo for warlike power, and peoples store,
In Britannie was none to match with mee,
That manie often did abie full sore:
Ne 7"roynouant, though elder sister shee,
With my great forces might compared bee;
That stout Pendragon to his perill felt,
Who in a siege seauen yeres about me dwelt.
I3I
IO0
But long ere this Bunduca Britonnesse
Her mightie hoast against my bulwarkes brought,
Bunduca, that victorious conqueresse,
That lifting vp her braue heroick thought
Boue womens weaknes, with the Romanes fought,
Fought, and in field against them thrice preuailed:
Yet was she foyld, when as she me assailed.
IlO
And though at last by force I conquered were
Of hardie Saxons, and became their thrall;
Yet was I with much bloodshed bought full deere,
And prizde with slaughter of their Generall :
The monlment of whose sad funerall,
For wonder of the world, long in me lasted;
But now to nought through spoyle of time is wasted.
Wasted it is, as if it neuer were,
And all the rest that me so honord made,
And of the world admired eu'rie where,
Is turnd to smoake, that doth to nothing fade ;
And of that brightnes now appeares no shade,
But greislie shades, such as doo haunt in hell
With fearfull fiends, that in deep darknes dwell.
120
Where my high steeples whilom vsde to stand,
On which the lordly Faulcon wont to towre,
There now is but an heap of lyme and sand,
For the Shriche-owle to build her balefull bowre: i3o
And where the Nightingale wont forth to powre
Her restles plaints, to comfort wakefull Louers,
There now haunt yelling Mewes and whining Plouers.
THE RV1NES OF TIME.
And where the christall Thamis wont to slide
In siluer channell, downe along the Lee,
About whose flowrie bankes on either side
A thousand Nymphes, with mirthfull iollitee
Were wont to play, from all annoyance free;
There now no riuers course is to be seene,
But moorish fennes, and marshes euer greene. 14o
Seemes, that that gende Riuer for great griefe
Of my mishaps, which oft I to him plained;
Or for to shunne the horrible mischiefe,
With which he saw my cruell foes me pained,
And his pure streames with guildes blood oft stained,
From my vnhappie neighborhood farre fled,
And his sweete waters away with him led.
There also where the winged ships were seene
In liquid waues to cut their fomie wale,
And thousand Fishers numbred to haue been,
In that wide lake looking for plenteous praie
Of fish, which they with baits vsde to betraie,
Is now no lake, nor anie fishers store,
Nor euer ship shall salle there anie more.
They all are gone, and all with them is gone,
Ne ought to me remaines, but to lament
My long decay, which no man els doth morte,
And mourne my fali with dolefull dreriment.
Yet it is comfort in great languishment,
To be bemoned with compassion kinde, 16o
And mitigates the anguish of the minde.
But me no man bewaileth, but in game,
Ne sheddeth teares from lamentable eie :
Nor anie liues that mentioneth my name
To be remembred of posteritie,
Saue One that maugre fortunes injurie,
And times decay, and enuies cruell tort,
Hath writ my record in true-seeming sort.
754 more. F: more,
THE RVINES OF TIME.
133
Cambden the nourice of antiquitie,
And lanterne vnto late succeeding age,
To see the light of simple veritie,
Buried in ruines, through the great outrage
Of ber owne people, led with warlike rage.
Cambden, though time all moniments obscure,
Yet thy iust labours euer shall endure.
But whie (vnhappie wight) doo I thus crie,
And grieue that my remembrance quite is raced
Out of the knowledge of posteritie,
And ail my antique moniments defaced ?
Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed, 8o
So soone as fates their vitall thred haue shorne,
Forgotten quite as they were neuer borne.
It is not long, since these two eyes beheld
A mightie Prince, of most renowmed race,
Whom England high in count of honour held,
And greatest ones did sue to gaine his grace;
Of greatest ones he greatest in his place,
Sate in the bosome of his Soueraine,
And Right and loyall did his word maintaine.
I saw him die, I saw him die, as one 9o
Of the meane people, and brought foorth on beare.
I saw him die, and no man left to mone
His dolefull rate, that late him loued deare:
Scarce anie left to close his eylids neare;
Scarce anie left vpon his lips to laie
The sacred sod, or Refuiem to sale.
O trustlesse state of miserable men,
That builde your blis on hope of earthly thing,
And vainly thinke your selues halle happie then,
When painted faces with smooth flattering oo
Doo fawne on you, and your wide praises sing,
And when the courting masker louteth lowe,
Him true in heart and trustie to you trow.
endure. F: endure, Q
I34
THE RVINES OF TIME.
Ail is but fained, and with oaker dide,
That euerie shower will wash and wipe away,
Ail things doo change that vnder heauen abide,
And after death ail friendship doth decaie.
Therefore what euer man bearst worldlie sway,
Liuing, on God, and on thy selle relie;
For when thou diest, ail shall with thee die.
He now is dead, and ail is with him dead,
Saue what in heauens storehouse he vplaid:
His hope is faild, and come to passe his dread,
And euill men, now dead, his deeds vpbraid:
Spite bites the dead, that liuing neuer baid.
He now is gone, the whiles the Foxe is crept
Into the hole, the which the Badger swept.
He now is dead, and all his glorie gone,
And ail his greatnes vapoured to nought,
That as a glasse vpon the water shone,
Which vanisht quite, so soone as it was sought.
His name is worne alreadie out of thought,
Ne anie Poet seekes him to reuiue;
Yet manie Poets honourd him aliue.
220
Ne doth his Colin, carelesse Colin Cloute,
Care now his idle bagpipe vp to raise,
Ne tell his sorrow to the listning rout
Of shepherd groomes, which wont his songs to praise :
Praise who so list, yet I will him dispraise,
Vntill he quite him of this guiltie blame:
VCake shepheards boy, at length awake for shame.
And who so els did goodnes by him gaine,
And who so els his bounteous minde did trie,
Whether he shepheard be, or shepheards swaine,
(For manie did, which doo it now denie)
Awake, and to his Song a part applie:
And I, the whilest you mourne for his decease,
Will with my mourning plaints your plaint increase.
2 14 men now dead, Q: men (now dead) F
230
THE RVINES OF TIME. 3
He dyde, and after him his brother dyde,
His brother Prince, his brother noble Peere, 240
That whilste he liued, was of none enuyde,
And dead is now, as liuing, counted deare,
Deare vnto all that true affection beare:
But vnto thee most deare, O dearest Dame,
His noble Spouse, and Paragon of fame.
He whilest he liued, happie was through thee,
And being dead is happie now much more;
Liuing, that lincked chaunst with thee to bee,
And dead, because him dead thou dost adore
As liuing, and thy lost deare loue deplore. 250
So whilst that thou, faire flower of chastitie,
Dost liue, by thee thy Lord shall neuer die.
Thy Lord shall neuer die, the whiles this verse
Shall liue, and surely it shall liue for euer:
For ever it shall liue, and shall rehearse
His worthie praise, and vertues dying neuer,
Though death his soule doo from his bodie seuer.
And thou thy selfe herein shalt also liue;
Such grace the heauens doo to my verses giue.
Ne shall his sister, ne thy father die, 260
Thy father, that good Earle of rare renowne,
And noble Patrone of weake pouertie;
Whose great good deeds in countrey and in towne
Haue purchast him in heauen an happie crowne;
Where he now liueth in eternall blis,
And left his sonne t'ensue those steps of his.
He noble bud, his Grandsires liuelie hayre,
Vnder the shadow of thy countenaunce
Now ginnes to shoote vp fast, and flourish fayre
In learned artes and goodlie gouernaunce,
That him to highest honour shall aduaunce.
Braue Impe of Bedford, grow apace in bountie,
And count of wisedome more than of thy Countie.
u59 giue. F: giue, Q u67 l-le noble bud, OE: He, noble bud, F
I36
THE RVINES OF TIME.
Ne may I let thy husbands sister die,
That goodly Ladie, sith she eke did spring
Out of this stocke, and famous familie,
Whose praises I to future age doo sing,
And foorth out of her happie womb did bring
The sacred brood of learning and all honour;
In whom the heauens powrde all their gifts vpon her. 8o
Most gent_le spirite breathed from aboue,
Out of the bosome of the makers blis,
In whom all bountie and ail vertuous loue
Appeared in their natiue propertis,
And did enrich that noble breast of his,
With treasure passing all this worldes worth,
Worthie of heauen it selfe, which brought it forth.
His blessed spirite full of power diuine
And influence of all celestiall grace,
Loathing this sinfull earth and earthlie slime, 9o
Fled backe too soone vnto his natiue place,
Too soone for all that did his loue embrace,
Too soone for all this wretched world, whom he
Robd of ail right and true nobilitie.
Yet ere his happie soule to heauen went
Out of this fleshlie goale, he did deuise
Vnto his heauenlie maker to present
His bodie, as a spotles sacrifise;
And chose, that guiltie hands of enemies
Should powre forth th'offring of his guildes blood: 3oo
So life exchanging for his countries good.
O noble spirite, liue there euer blessed,
The worlds late wonder, and the heauens new ioy,
Liue euer there, and leaue me here distressed
With mortall cares, and cumbrous worlds anoy.
But where thou dost that happines enioy,
Bid me, O bid me quicklie corne to thee,
That happie there I maie thee alwaies see.
9 x place, Q: place; F
THE RVINES OF TIME. 37
Yet whilest the fates affoord me vitall breath,
I will it spend in speaking of thy praise, 3xo
And sing to thee, vntill that timelie death
By heauens doome doo ende my earthlie daies:
Thereto doo thou my humble spirite raise,
And into me that sacred breath inspire,
Which thou there breathest perfect and entire.
Then will I sing: but who can better sing,
Than thine owne sister, peerles Ladie bright,
Which to thee sings with deep harts sorrowing,
Sorrowing tempered with deare delight,
That her to heare I feele my feeble spright 32o
Robbed of sense, and rauished with ioy,
O sad ioy made of mourning and anoy.
Yet will I sing: but who can better sing,
Than thou thy selfe, thine owne selfes valiance,
That whilest thou liuedst, madest the forrests ring,
And fields resownd, and flockes to leap and daunce,
And shepheards leaue their lambs vnto mischaunce,
To runne thy shrill/lrcadian Pipe to heare:
O happie were those dayes, thrice happie were.
But now more happie thou, and wretched wee, 330
Which want the wonted sweetnes of thy voice,
Whiles thou now in Elisian fields so free,
With Orpheus, and with Linus, and the choice
Of all that euer did in rimes reioyce,
Conuersest, and doost heare their heauenlie layes,
And they heare thine, and thine doo better praise.
So there thou liuest, singing euermore,
And here thou liuest, being euer song
Of vs, which liuing loued thee afore,
And now thee worship, mongst that blessed throng 34o
Of heauenlie Poets and Heroes strong.
So thou both here and there immortall art,
And euerie where through excellent desart.
315 breathest, F 316, 3e3 I sing: F: I sing, Q 3 (0 sad
joy !) F 333 and with Linus, Itutb Q: and with Linus Q: with
Linu«, F 341 Heroës F
3 8 THE RVINES OF TIME.
But such as neither of themselues can sing,
Nor yet are sung of others for reward,
Die in obscure obliuion, as the thing
Which neuer was, ne euer with regard
Their names shall of the later age be heard,
But shall in rustie darknes euer lie,
Vnles they mentiond be with infamie.
What booteth it to haue been rich aliue ?
What to be great ? what to be gracious.
When after death no token doth suruiue,
Of former being in this mortall hous,
But sleepes in dust dead and inglorious,
Like beast, whose breath but in his nostrels is,
And hath no hope of happinesse or blis.
How manie great ones may remembred be,
Which in their daies most famouslie did florish ?
Of whome no word we heare, nor signe now see,
But as things wipt out with a sponge to perishe,
Because they liuing, cared not to cherishe
No gentle wits, through pride or couetize,
Which might tbeir names for euer memorize.
Prouide therefore (ye Princes) whilst ye liue,
That of the Muses ye may friended bee,
Which vnto men eternitie do giue;
For they be daughters of Dame memorie,
And loue the father of eternitie,
And do those men in golden thrones repose,
Vrhose merits they to glorifie do chose.
The seuen fold yron gates of grislie Hell,
And horrid bouse of sad Proseina,
They able are with power of mightie spell
To breake, and thence the soules to bring awaie
Out of dread darkenesse, to eternall day,
And them immortall make, which els would die
In foule forgetfulnesse, and nameles lie.
347 was; F 359 flofish ? F: florish; Q
363 couetize F; couertize Q
360
370
361 do pefishe F
THE RVINES OF TIME.
I39
So whilome raised they the puissant brood
Of golden girt ,¢lcmena, for great merite,
Out of the dust, to which the Oetean wood
Had him consum'd, and spent his vitall spirite:
To highest heauen, where now he doth inherite
Ail happinesse in Hebes siluer bowre,
Chosen to be ber dearest Paramoure.
38o
So raisde they eke faire Ledaes warlick twinnes,
And interchanged lire vnto them lent,
That when th'one dies, th'other then beginnes
To shew in Heauen his brightnes orient;
And they, for pittie of the sad wayment,
Which Orpheus for Eurydice did make,
Her back againe to lire sent for his sake.
So happie are they, and so fortunate,
Whom the Pierian sacred sisters loue,
That freed from bands of impacable rate,
And power of death, they liue for aye aboue,
Where mortall wreakes their blis may hot remoue:
But with the Gods, for former vertues meede,
On Nectar and Ambrosia do feede.
390
For deeds doe die, how euer noblie donne,
And thoughts of men do as themselues decay,
But wise wordes taught in numbers for to runne,
Recorded by the Muses, liue for ay;
Ne may with storming showers be washt away,
Ne bitter breathing windes with harmfull blast,
Nor age, nor enuie shall them euer wast.
In vaine doo earthly Princes then, in vaine
Seeke with Pyramides, to heauen aspired ;
Or huge Coloffes, built with cosdie paine;
Or brasen Pillours, neuer to be fired,
Or Shrines, made of the mettall most desired;
To make their memories for euer liue:
For how can mortall immortalitie giue ?
386 warlike F 4ol as Q: in F 413 give. Q, F
400
4IO
I4O THE RVINES OF TIME.
Such one Mausolus made, the worlds great wonder,
But now no remnant doth thereof remaine:
Such one Marcellus, but was tome with thunder :
Such one Lisippus, but is worne with raine:
Such one King Edmond, but was rent for gaine.
Ail such vaine moniments of earthlie masse,
Deuour'd of Time, in time to nought doo passe. 420
But lame with golden wings aloft doth flie,
Aboue the reach of ruinous decay,
And with braue plumes doth beate the azure skie,
Admir'd of base-borne men from farre away:
Then who so will with vertuous deeds assay
To mount to heauen, on Pegasus must ride,
And with sweete Poets verse be glorifide.
For hot to haue been dipt in Lethe lake,
Could saue the sonne of Thetis from to die;
But that blinde bard did him immortall make 430
With verses, dipt in deaw of Castalie:
Which made the Easterne Conquerour to crie,
O fortunate yong-man, whose vertue found
So braue a Trompe, thy noble acts to sound.
Therefore in this halfe happie I doo read
Good Melib¢, that hath a Poet got,
To sing his liuing praises being dead,
Deseruing neuer here to be forgot,
In spight of enuie, that his deeds would spot:
Since whose decease, learning lies vnregarded, 44o
And men of armes doo wander vnrewarded.
Those two be those two great calamities,
That long agoe did grieue the noble spright
Of Salomon with great indignities;
Who whilome was aliue the wisest wight.
But now his wisedome is disprooued quite;
For he that now welds all things at his will,
Scorns th'one and th'other in his deeper skill.
414 lllaatolut F'- lantolut Q
the world at will, Scorn . . . their F
447-8 For such as now have most
THE RVINES OF TIME.
O griefe of griefes, O gall of ail good heartes,
To see that vertue should dispised bee
Of him, that first was raisde for vertuous parts,
And now broad spreading like an aged tree,
Lets none shoot vp, that nigh him planted bee:
O let the man, of whom the Muse is scorned,
Nor aliue, nor dead be of the Muse adorned.
O vile worlds trust, that with such vaine illusion
Hath so wise men bewitcht, and ouerkest,
That they see hOt the way of their confusion,
O vainesse to be added to the rest,
That do my soule with inward griefe infest:
Let them behold the piteous fall of mee :
And in my case their owne ensample see.
And who so els that sits in highest seate
Of this worlds glorie, worshipped of all,
Ne feareth change of time, nor fortunes threate,
Let him behold the horror of my fall,
And his owne end vnto remembrance call;
That of like ruine he may warned bee,
And in himselfe be moou'd to pittie mee.
Thus hauing ended all her piteous plaint,
With dolefull shrikes shee vanished away,
That I through inward sorrowe wexen faint,
And all astonished with deepe dismay,
For her departure, had no word to say:
But sate long time in sencelesse sad affright,
Looking still, if I might of her haue sight.
Which when I missed, hauing looked long,
My thought returned greeued home againe,
Renewing her complaint with passion strong,
For ruth of that saine womans piteous paine ;
Whose wordes recording in my troubled braine,
I felt such anguish wound my feeble heart,
That frosen horror ran through euerie part.
45 such as first were F 453 him Q : them F
those, F 455 Aliue nor dead, F
450
460
470
480
454 O ! let hot
I42
THE RVINES OF TIME.
So inlie greeuing in my groning brest,
And deepelie muzing at her doubtfull speach,
Whose meaning much I labored foorth to wreste,
Being aboue my slender reasons reach;
At length by demonstration me to teach,
Before mine eies strange sights presented were,
Like tragicke Pageants seeming to appeare.
49 °
I saw an Image, all of massie gold,
Placed on high vpon an Altare faire,
That ail, which did the same from farre beholde,
Might worship it, and fall on lowest staire.
Not that great Idoll might with this compaire,
To which th'.4ssyrian tyrant would haue made
The holie brethren, falslie to haue praid.
But th'Altare, on the which this Image staid,
Was (O great pitie) built of brickle clay,
That shortly the foundation decaid,
With showers of heauen and tempests worne away:
Then downe it fell, and low in ashes lay,
Scorned ofeuerie one, which by it went;
That I it seing, dearelie did lament.
500
Next vnto this a statelie Towre appeared,
Built ail of richest stone, that might bee round,
And nigh vnto the Heauens in height vpreared»
But placed on a plot of sandie ground:
Not that great Towre, which is so much renownd
For tongues confusion in holie writ,
King 1Vinus worke, might be compar'd to it.
51o
497 praid. F: praid, Q
5 * t worke, F: worke Q
499 brittle F
5o* away: F: away, Q
THE RVINES OF TIME.
But O vaine labours of terrestriall wit,
That buildes so stronglie on so frayle a soyle,
As with each storme does rail away, and flit,
And giues the fruit of all your trauailes toyle,
To be the pray of Tyme, and Fortunes spoyle :
I saw this Towre fall sodainlie to dust,
That nigh with griefe thereof my heart was brust.
t43
Then did I see a pleasant Paradize,
Full of sweete flowres and daintiest delights, 2o
Such as on earth man could not more deuize,
With pleasures choyce to feed his cheerefull særights;
Not that, which Merlin by his Magicke flights
Made for the gentle squire, to entertaine
His fayre Belphcbe, could this gardine staine.
But O short pleasure bought with lasting paine,
Why will hereafter anie flesh delight
In earthlie blis, and ioy in pleasures vaine,
Since that I sawe this gardine wasted quite,
That where it was scarce seemed anie sight ?
That I, which once that beautie did beholde,
Could hOt from teares my melting eyes with-holde.
53 °
Soone after this a Giaunt came in place,
Of wondrous power, and of exceeding stature,
That none durst vewe the horror of his face,
Yet was he milde of speach, and meeke of nature.
Not he, which in despight of his Creatour
With railing tearmes defied the Iewish hoast,
Might with this mightie one in hugenes boast.
56 spoyle! F 519 Paradise F 521 devise F
THE RVINES OF TIME.
For from the one he could to th'other coast, 540
Stretch his strong thighes, and th'Occean ouerstride,
And reatch his hand into his enemies hoast.
But see the end of pompe and fleshlie pride ;
One of his feete vnwares from liim did slide,
That downe hee fell into the deepe Abisse,
Where drownd with him is all his earthlie blisse.
5
Then did I see a Bridge, made ail of golde,
Ouer the Sea from one to other side,
Withouten prop or pillour it t'vpholde,
But like the coulored Rainbowe arched wide:
Not that great Arche, which ff'raian edifide,
To be a wonder to all age ensuing,
Was matchable to this in equall vewing.
But (ah) what bootes it to see earthlie thing
In glorie, or in greatnes to excell,
Sith time doth greatest things to ruine bring ?
This goodlie bridge, one foote not fastened well,
Gan faile, and all the rest downe shortlie fell,
Ne of so braue a building ought remained,
That griefe thereof my spirite greatly pained.
550
56o
6
I saw two Beares, as white as anie milke,
Lying together in a mightie caue,
Of milde aspect, and haire as soft as silke,
That saluage nature seemed not to haue,
Nor after greedie spoyle of blood to craue:
Two fairer beasts might hOt elswhere be found,
Although the compast world were sought around.
54z Ocean F 55z which F: with Q
THE RVINES OF TIME.
But what can long abide aboue this ground
In state of blis, or stedfast happinesse ?
The Caue, in which these Beares lay sleeping sound, 57o
Was but earth, and with her owne weightinesse
Vpon them fell, and did vnwares oppresse,
That for great sorrow of their sudden rate,
Henceforth ail worlds felicitie I hate.
¶ Much was I troubled in my heauie spright,
At sight of these sad spectacles forepast,
That all my senses were bereaued quight,
And I in minde remained sore agast,
Distraught twixt feare and pitie ; when at last
I heard a voyce, which loudly to me called,
That with the suddein shrill I was appalled.
Behold (said it) and by ensample see,
That all is vanitie and griefe of minde,
Ne other comfort in this world can be,
But hope of heauen, and heart to God inclinde ;
For all the test must needs be left behinde:
With that it bad me, to the other side
To cast mine eye, where other sights I spide.
58o
¶ Vpon that famous Riuers further shore,
There stood a snowie Swan of heauenly hiew,
And gentle kinde, as euer Fowle afore;
A fairer one in all the goodlie criew
Of white Strimonian irood might no man view:
There he most sweetly sung the prophecie
Of his owne death in dolefull Elegie.
571 Was but of earth, and vAth her weightilxesse F
words Q 588 spied. F: spide ? Q
SItSER ! L
590
574 worlds iv:
4 6
THE RVINES OF TIME.
At last, when all his mourning melodie
He ended had, that both the shores resounded,
Fe, eling the fit that him forewarnd to die,
X ith loftie flight aboue the earth he bounded,
And out of sight to highest heauen mounted:
XVhere now he is become an heauenly signe;
There now the ioy is his, here sorrow mine.
600
Vhilest thus I looked, loe adowne the Le«,
I sawe an Harpe stroong all with siluer twyne,
And made of golde and costlie yuorie,
Swimming, that whilome seemed to haue been
The harpe, on which Dan Orpheus was seene
\Vylde beasts and forrests after him to lead,
But was th'Harpe of Philisides now dead.
At length out of the Riuer it was reard
And borne aboue the cloudes to be diuin'd,
Whilst all the way most heauenly noyse was heard
Of the strings, stirred with the warbling wind,
That wrought both ioy and sorrow in my mind:
So now in heauen a signe it doth appeare,
The Harpe well knowne beside the Northern Beare.
6io
3
Soone after this I saw on th'other side,
A curious Coffer ruade of Heben wood,
That in it did most precious treasure hide,
Exceeding all this baser worldes good:
Yet through the ouerflowing of the flood
It almost drowned was, and done to nought,
That sight thereof much grieu'd my pensiue thought.
620
603 loe, F
THE RVINES OF TIME.
At length when most in perill it was brought,
Two Angels downe descending with swift flight,
Out of the swelling streame it lightly caught,
And twixt their blessed armes it carried quight
Aboue the reach of anie liuing sight :
So now it is transform'd into that starre,
In which all heauenly treasures locked are.
x47
630
4
Looking aside I saw a stately Bed,
Adorned ail with costly cloth of gold,
That might for anie Princes couche be red,
And deckt with daintie flowres, as if it shold
Be for some bride, her ioyous night to hold:
Therein a goodly Virgine sleeping lay;
A fairer wight saw neuer summers day.
I heard a voyce that called farre away
And ber awaking bad her quicldy dight,
For 1o ber Bridegrome was in readie ray
To come to her, and seeke ber loues delight :
With that she started vp with cherefull sight,
When suddeinly both bed and ail was gone,
And I in languor left there ail alone.
640
5
Still as I gazed, I beheld where stood
A Knight ail arm'd, vpon a winged steed,
The same that was bred of Medusaes blood,
On which Dan Perseus borne of heauenly seed,
The faire Indromeda from perill freed :
Full mortally this Knight ywounded was,
That streames of blood foorth flowed on the gras.
65o
63t aside, F
639-4o awaking, . . . loe, F
1.2
647 bred was F
THE RVINES OF TIME.
Yet was he deckt (small ioy to him alas)
With manie garlands for his victories,
And with rich spoyles, which late he did purchas
Through braue atcheiuements from his enemies:
Fainting at last through long infirmities,
He smote his steed, that straight to heauen him bore»
And left me here his losse for to deplore.
6
Lastly I saw an Arke of purest golde.
Vpon a brazen pillour standing hie,
Which th'ashes seem'd ofsome great PriTce to hold,
Endosde therein for endles memorie
Of him, whom ail the world did glorifie:
Seemed the heauens with the earth did disagree,
x, Vhether should of those ashes keeper bee.
At last me seem'd wing footed Mercurie,
From heaue7 descending to appease their strife,
The Arke did beare with him aboue the skie,
And to those ashes gaue a second lire,
To liue in heauen, where happines is rire:
At which the earth did grieue exceedingly,
And I for dole was almost like to die.
660
670
L'Envoy.
Immortall spirite of l°hilisides,
\Vhich now art made the heauens ornament,
That whilome wast the worlds chiefst riches;
Giue leaue to him that lou'de thee to lament
His losse, by lacke of thee to heauen hent,
And with last duties of this broken verse,
Broken with sighes, to decke thy sable Herse.
664 th'earth F 666 -&t last, me seem'd, wing-footed F
that lou'd thee, to lainent His losse by lacke of thee, F
676-7
THE RVINES OF TIME.
I49
And ye faire Ladie th'honor of your daies, 680
And glorie of the world, your high thoughts scorne;
Vouchsafe this moniment of his last praise,
With some few siluer dropping teares t'adorne:
And as ye be of heauenlie off spring borne,
So vnto heauen let your high minde aspire,
And loath this drosse of sinfull worlds desire.
FINIS.
THE
Teares oftheMu-
]ês.
ly lî».
Lol DO .
Imprintid for v'v'iia
Po»onbié, dwelling in Paules
Chm'chyarda the fine of
Ch# tops toead.
TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE
the Ladie Strange.
M Ost braue and noble Ladie, the things that make ye so
much honored of the world as ye bee, are such, as
(without my simple lines testimonie) are throughlie
knowen to all men ; namely, your excellent beautie,
your vertuous behauior, and your noble match with that most
honourable Lord the verie Paterne of right Nobilitie : But the
causes for which ye haue thus deserued of me to be honoured (if
honour it be at all) are, both your particular bounties, and also some
priuate bands of affinitie, which # bath pleased your Ladiship to
acknowledge. Of which whenas I found my selfe in no part
worthie, I deuised this last slender meanes, both to intimate my
humble affection fo your Ladiship and also to make the saine vniuer-
sallie knowen to the world; that by honouring you they might know
me, and by knowing me they might honor you. louchsafe, noble
Lad)', to accept this simple remembrance, thogh hot worthy of your
self, yet such, as perhaps by good accepmnce therof, ye may hereafier
cull out a more meet and memorable euidence of your own excellent
deserts. So recommending the saine to your Ladiships good liking;
I humbly take leaue.
Your La: humbly euer.
Ed. Sp.
The Teares of the Muses.
Ehearse to me ye sacred Sisters nine,
The golden brood of great ,,4polloes wit,
Those piteous plaints and sorowfull sad tine,
Which late ye powred forth as ye did sit
Beside the siluer Springs of Helicone,
Making your musick of hart-breaking morte.
For since the time that Phwbus foolish sonne
Ythundered through Ioues auengefull wrath,
For trauersing the charret of the Sunne
Beyond the compasse of his pointed path, o
Of you his mournfull Sisters was lamented,
Such mournfull tunes were neuer since inuented.
Nor since that faire Calliope did lose
Her loued Twinnes, the dearlings of her ioy,
Her Palici, whom her vnkindly foes
The fatall Sisters, did for spight destroy,
Whom ail the Muses did bewaile long space;
Was euer heard such wayling in this place.
For all their groues, which with the heauenly noyses
Of their sweete instruments were wont to sound, 2o
And th'hollow hills, from which their siluer voyces
Were wont redoubled Echoes to rebound,
Did now rebound with nought but rufull cries,
And yelling shrieks throwne vp into the skies.
The trembling streames which wont in chanels cleare
To romble gently downe with murmur sort,
And were by them right tunefull taught to beare
A Bases part amongst their consorts oft;
Now forst to ouerflowe with brackish teares,
With troublous noyse did dull their daintie eares. 3o
t nine» F: nine: Q
I54
THE TEARES OF' THE MVSES.
The ioyous Nymphes and lightfoote Faeries
Which thether came to heare their musick sweet,
And to the measure of their melodies
Did learne to moue their nimble shifting feete ;
Now hearing them so heauily lainent,
Like heauily lamenting from them went.
And ail that els was wont to worke delight
Through the diuine infusion of their skill,
And all that els seemd faire and fresh in sight,
So ruade by nature for to serue their will,
Was turned now to dismall heauinesse,
Was turned now to dreadfull vglinesse.
Ay me, what thing on earth that ail thing breeds,
Might be the cause of so impatient plight?
What furie, or what feend with felon deeds
Hath stirred vp so mischieuous despight ?
Can griefe then enter into heauenly harts,
And pierce immortall breasts with mortall smarts ?
Vouchsafe ye then, whom onely it concernes,
To me those secret causes to display;
For none but you, or who of you it learnes,
Can rightfully aread so dolefull lay.
Begin thou eldest Sister of the crew,
And let the test in order thee ensew.
40
50
Clio.
Heare thou great Father of the Gods on hie
That most art dreaded for thy thunder darts:
And thou out Syre that raignst in Castalie
And mount Parnasse, the God of goodly Arts:
Heare and behold the miserable state
Of vs thy daughters, dolefull desolate.
6o
5 t learnes, /7: learnes Q
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Behold the fowle reproach and open shame,
The which is day by day w, to vs wrought
By such as hate the honour of our name,
The foes of learning, and each gentle thought;
They hOt contented vs themselues to scorne,
Doo seeke to make vs of the world forlorne.
Ne onely they that dwell in lowly dust,
The sonnes of darknes and of ignoraunce;
But they, whom thou great loue by doome wfiust
Didst to the type of honour earst aduaunce; 7o
They now puft vp with sdeîgnfull insolence,
Despise the brood of blessed Sapience.
The sectaries of my celestiall skill,
That wont to be the worlds chiefe ornament,
And learned Impes that wont to shoote vp still,
And grow to hight of kingdomes gouernment
They w, derkeep, and with their spredding armes
Doo beat their buds, that perish through their harmes.
It most behoues the honorable race
Of mightie Peeres, true wisedome to sustaine, 80
And with their noble countenaunce to grace
The learned forheads, without girls or gaine:
Or rather learnd themselues behoues to bee ;
That is the girlond of Nobilitie.
But (ah) ail otherwise they doo esteeme
Of th'heauenly gift of wisdomes influence,
And to be learned it a base thing deeme;
Base minded they that want intelligence:
For Goal himselfe for wisedome most is praised,
And men to God thereby are nighest raised. 9 °
But they doo onely striue themselues to raise
Through pompous pride, and foolish vanitie;
In th'eyes of people they put ail their praise,
And onely boast of Armes and Auncestrie:
But vertuous deeds, which did those Armes first giue
To their Grandsyres, they care hOt to atchiue.
6 5 They, F
156
THE TEARES OF THE M VSES.
So I, that doo ail noble feates professe
To register, and sound in trump of gold;
Through their bad dooings, or base slothfulnesse,
Finde nothing worthie to be writ, or told:
For better farre it were to hide their names,
Than telling them to blazon out their blames.
So shall succeeding ages haue no light
Of things forepast, nor moniments of time,
And all that in this world is worthie hight
Shall die in darknesse, and lie hid in slime:
Therefore I mourne with deep harts sorrowing,
Because I nothing noble haue to sing.
V¢ith that she raynd such store of streaming teares,
That could haue made a stonie heart to weep,
And ail her Sisters rent their golden heares,
And their faire faces with salt humour steep.
So ended shee: and then the next anew,
Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.
I00
IIO
Melpomene,
O who shall powre into my swollen eyes
A sea of teares that neuer may be dryde,
A brasen voice that may with shrilling cryes
Pierce the dull heauens and fill the ayer wide,
And yron sides that sighing may endure,
To waile the wretchednes of world impure?
120
Ah wretched world the den of wickednesse,
Deformd with filth and fowle iniquitie ;
Ah wretched world the house of heauinesse,
Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie ;
Ah wretched world, and ail that is therein
The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaues of s;.n.
98 gold, F
33,
Il 3 anew Q, F: in rew conj. Collier, -o. Ii. t73,
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Most miserable creature vnder sky
Man without vnderstanding doth appeare;
For all this worlds affliction he thereby,
And Fortunes freakes is wisely taught to beare:
Of wretched life the onely ioy shee is,
And th'only comfort in calamities.
She armes the brest with constant patience,
Against the bitter throwes of dolours darts,
She solaceth with rules of Sapience
The gentle minds, in midst of worldlie smarts:
When he is sad, shee seeks to make him merie,
And doth refresh his sprights when they be werie.
But he that is of reasons skill bereft,
And wants the staff'e of wisedome him to stay,
Is like a ship in midst of tempest left
Withouten helme or Pilot her to sway,
Full sad and dreadfull is that ships euent:
Sois the man that wants intendiment.
3 o
4o
Whie then doo foolish men so much despize
The precious store of this celestiall riches ?
Why doo they banish vs, that patronize
The name of learning ? Most vnhappie wretches,
The which lie drowned in deep wretchednes,
Yet doo hOt see their owne vnhappines.
My part it is and my professed skill
The Stage with Tragick buskin to adorne,
And fill the Scene with plaint and outcries shrill
Of wretched persons, to misfortune borne:
But none more tragick marrer I can finde
Than this, of men depriu'd of sense and minde.
For all mans life me seemes a Tragedy,
Full of sad sights and sore Catastrophees ;
First comming to the world with weeping eye,
Where all his dayes like dolorous Trophees,
Are heapt with spoyles of fortune and of feare,
And he at last laid forth on balefull beare.
6o
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
So all with rufull spectacles is fild,
Fit for Megera or Persephone;
But I that in true Tragedies am skild,
The flowre of wit, finde nought to busie me:
Therefore I mourne, and pitifully mone,
Because that mourning matter I haue none.
Then gan she wofully to waile, and wring
Her wretched hands in lamentable wise;
And all her Sisters thereto answering,
Threw forth lowd shrieks and drerie dolefull cries.
So rested she: and then the next in rew,
Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.
xTo
Where be the sweete ddights of learnings treasure,
That wont with Comick sock to beautefie
The painted Theaters, and fill with pleasure
The listners eyes, and eares with melodie;
In which I late was wont to raine as Queene,
And maske in mirth with Graces wdl beseene?
x8o
O all is gone, and all that goodly glee,
Which wont to be the glorie of gay wits,
Is layd abed, and no where now to see;
And in ber roome vnseernly Sorrow sits,
With hollow browes and greisly countenaunce,
Marring my ioyous gentle dalliaunce.
And him beside sits vgly Barbarisme,
And brutish Ignorance, ycrept of late
Out of dredd darknes of the deep Abysme,
Where being bredd, he light and heauen does hate: xgo
They in the mindes of men now tyrannize,
And the faire Scene with rudenes foule disguize.
t6 3 fild, F: fild Q
answenng. Q
x6 5 IQ: I,F
7 x answering, F:
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Ail places they with follie haue possest,
And with vaine toyes the vulgare entertaine;
But me haue banished, with ail the rest
That whilome wont to wait vpon my traine,
Fine Counterfesaunce and vnhurtfull Sport,
Delight and Laughter deckt in seemly sort.
Ail these, and ail that els the Comick Stage
With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced ; aoo
By which mans life in his likest image
Was limned forth, are wholly now defaced;
And those sweete wits which wont the like to frame,
Are now despizd, and ruade a laughing game.
And he the man, whom Nature selfe had made
To mock her selfe, and Truth to imitate,
With kindly counter vnder Mimick shade,
Our pleasant [/Filly, ah is dead of late:
With whom ail ioy and iolly meriment
Is aiso deaded, and in dolour drent.
In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie,
And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept,
Rolling in rymes of shameles ribaudrie
Without regard, or due Decorum kept,
Each idle wit at will presumes to make,
And doth the Learneds taske vpon him take.
But that saine gentle Spirit, from whose pen
Large streames of honnie and sweete Nectar flowe,
Scorning the boldnes of such base-borne men,
Which dare their follies forth so rashlie throwe ;
Doth rather choose to sit in idle Cell,
Than so himselfe to mockerie to sell.
So am I made the seruant of the manie,
And laughing stocke of ai1 that list to scorne,
Not honored nor cared for of anie;
But Ioath'd of losels as a thing forlorne:
Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest,
Vntill my cause of sorrow be redrest.
I60 THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Therewith she lowdly did lainent and shrike,
Pouring forth streames of teares abundantly,
And all her Sisters with compassion like,
The breaches of her singults did supply.
So rested shee: and then the next in rew
Began her grieuous plaint, as doth ensew.
3 o
Euterpe.
Like as the dearling of the Summers pryde,
Faire Philomele, when winters stormie wrath
The goodly fields, that earst so gay were dyde
In colours diuers, quite despoyled hath,
All comfortlesse doth hide her chearlesse head
During the time of that her widowhead:
4o
So we, that earst were wont in sweet accord
All places with our pleasant notes to fill,
Whilest fauourable times did vs aff'ord
Free libertie to chaunt our charmes at will:
All comfortlesse vpon the bared bow,
Like wofull Culuers doo sit wayling now.
For far more bitter storme than winters stowre
The beautie of the world hath lately wasted,
And those fresh buds, which wont so faire to flowre,
Hath marred quite, and ail their blossoms blasted: 250
And those yong plants, which wont with fruit t'abound,
Now without fruite or leaues are to be found.
A stonie coldnesse hath benumbd the sence
And liuelie spirits of each liuing wight,
And dimd with darknesse their intelligence,
Darknesse more than Cymeriam daylie night ?
And monstrous error flying in the ayre,
Hath mard the face of ail that semed fayre.
23 singults F: singulfs Q
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES. 6
Image of hellish horrour, Ignorance,
Borne in the bosome of the black/lbysse, 260
And fed with furies milke, for sustenaunce
Of his weake infancie, begot amisse
By yawning Sloth on his owne mother Night ;
So hee his sonnes both Syre and brother hight.
He armd with blindnesse and with boldnes stout,
(For blind is bold) hath out fayre light defaced;
And gathering vnto him a ragged tout
Of Faunes and Satyres, hath out dwellings raced
And out chast bowers, in which all vertue rained,
With brutishnesse and beastlie filth hath stained. 270
The sacred springs of horsefoot Helicon,
So oft bedeawed with out learned layes,
And speaking streames of pure Castalion,
The famous witnesse of our wonted praise,
They trampled haue with their fowle footings trade,
And like to troubled puddles haue them made.
Out pleasant groues, which planted were with paines,
That with our musick wont so oft to ring,
And arbors sweet, in which the Shepheards swaines
Were wont so oft their Pastoralls to sing, 280
They haue cut downe and all their pleasaunce mard
That now no pastorall is to bee hard.
In stead of them fowle Goblins and Shriekowles,
With fearfull howling do all places fill;
And feeble EccAo now laments and howles,
The dreadfull accents of their outcries shrill.
So all is turned into wildernesse,
Whilest Ignorance the Muses doth oppresse.
A**d I whose ioy was earst with Spirit full
To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft, 290
My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull,
Doo mone my miserie in silence soft.
Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly,
Till please the heauens affoord me remedy.
259 horrour, F: horrour OE
288 Ignorance cf. L 259 : ignorance Q, F
M
162 THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe
And pitious lamentation did make,
And all ber sisters seeing her doo soe,
With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake.
So rested shee: and then the next in rew,
Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.
3oo
'erpsichore.
Who so hath in the lap of soft delight
Beene long time luld, and fed with pleasures sweet,
Feareles through his own fault or Fortunes spight,
To tumble into sorrow and regreet,
Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie,
Findes greater burthen of his miserie.
So wee that earst in ioyance did abound
And in the bosome of all blis did sit,
Like virgin Queenes with laurell garlands cround,
For vertues meed and ornament of wit,
Sith ignorance our kingdome did confound,
Bee now become most wretched wightes on ground :
And in our royall thrones which lately stood
111 th'hearts of men to rule them carefully,
He now hath placed his accursed brood,
By him begotten of fowle infamy;
Blind Error, scornefull Follie, and base Spight,
Who hold by wrong, that wee should haue by right.
They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing,
And make them merrie with their fooleries,
They cherelie chaunt and rymes at randon fling,
The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies:
They feede the eares of fooles with flattery,
And good men blame, and losels magnify:
320
3o wit. , F
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES. I63
Ail places they doo with their toyes possesse,
And raigne in liking of the multitude,
The schooles they fill with fond new fanglenesse,
And sway in Court with pride and rashnes rude;
Mongst simple shepheards they do boast their skill,
And say their musicke matcheth Phcbus quill. 33o
The noble hearts to pleasures they allure,
And tell their Prince that learning is but vaine,
Faire Ladies loues they spot with thoughts impure,
And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine:
Clerks they to loathly idlenes entice,
And fill their bookes with discipline of vice.
So euery where they rule and tyrannize,
For their vsurped kingdomes maintenaunce,
The whiles we silly Maides, whom they dispize,
And with reprochull scorne discountenaunce, 340
From our owne natiue heritage exilde,
Walk through the world of euery one reuilde.
Nor anie one doth care to ca_Il vs in,
Or once vouchsafeth vs to entertaine,
Vnlesse some one æerhaps of gentle kin,
For pitties sake compassion our paine,
And yeeld vs some reliefe in this distresse:
Yet to be so relieu'd is wretchednesse.
So wander we ail carefull comfortlesse,
Yet none doth care to comfort vs at ail ; 350
So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse,
Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call:
Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine,
Because none liuing pittieth our pairie.
With that she wept and wofullie waymented,
That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie;
And ail the rest her dolefull din augmented,
With shrikes and groanes and grieuous agonie.
So ended shee: and then the next in rew,
Began her piteous plaint as doth ensew. :360
;346-7 paine, distresse : F: paine : distresse, OE
M2
64 THE TEtK tov I t-l tvi v .
Erato
Ye gentle Spirits breathing from aboue,
Where ye in Venus siluer bowre were bred,
Thoughts halle deuine, full of the tire of loue,
With beawtie kindled and with pleasure fed,
Which ye now in securitie possesse,
Forgetfull of your former heauinesse:
Now change the tenor of your ioyous layes,
With which ye vse your loues to deifie,
And blazon foorth an earthlie beauties praise,
Aboue the compasse of the arched skie:
Now change your praises into piteous cries,
And Eulogies turne into Elegies.
Such as ye wont whenas those bitter stounds
Of raging loue first gala you to torment,
And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds
Of secret sorrow and sad languishment,
Before your Loues did take you vnto grace;
Those now renew as fitter for this place.
For I that rule in measure moderate
The tempest of that stormie passion,
And vse to paint in rimes the troublous state
Of Louers life in likest fashion,
Am put from practise of my kindlie skill,
Banisht by those that Loue with leawdnes fill.
Loue wont to be schoolmaster of my skill,
And the deuicefull matter of m i song;
Sweete Loue deuoyd of villanie or ill,
But pure and spotles, as at first he sprong
Out of th'Almighties bosome, where he nests;
From thence infused into mortall brests.
370
380
390
363 deuine, F: deuine Q
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Such high conceipt of that celestiall tire,
The base-borne brood of blindnes cannot gesse,
Ne euer date their dunghill thoughts aspire
Vnto so loftie pitch of perfectnesse,
But rime at riot, and doo rage in loue;
Yet little wote what doth thereto behoue.
I65
Faire Cytheree the Mother of delight,
And Queene of beautie, now thou maist go pack;
For lo thy Kingdome is defaced quight,
Thy scepter rent, and power put to wrack;
And thy gay Sonne, that winged God of Loue,
May now goe prune his plumes like ruffed Doue.
And ye three Twins to light by I/'enus brought,
The sweete companions of the Muses late,
From whom what euer thing is goodly thought
Doth borrow grace, the fancie to aggrate;
Go beg with vs, and be companions still
As heretofore of good, so now of ill.
400
For neither you nor we shall anie more
Finde entertainment, or in Court or Schoole:
For that which was accounted heretofore
The learneds meed, is now lent to the foole,
He sings of loue, and maketh louing layes,
And they him heare, and they him highly prayse.
With that she powred tborth a brackish flood
Of bitter teares, and made exceeding mone;
And ail her Sisters seeing ber sad mood,
With lowd laments her answered ail atone.
So ended she: and then the next in rew
Began her grieuous plaint, as doth ensew.
42O
399 defaced F: defacd Q 4or that Q: the F
I66 THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Calliope
To whom shall I my euill case complaine,
Or tell the anguish of my inward smart,
Sith none is left to remedie my paine,
Or deignes to pitie a perplexed hart;
But rather seekes my sorrow to augment
With fowle reproach, and cruell banishment.
For they to whom I vsed to applie
The faithfull seruice of my learned skill,
The goodly off-spring of Ioues progenie,
That wont the world with famous acts to fill;
Whose liuing praises in heroïck style,
It is my chiefe profession to compyle.
430
They ail corrupted through the rust of time,
That doth ail fairest things on earth deface,
Or through vnnoble sloth, or sinfull crime,
That doth degenerate the noble race ;
Haue both desire of worthie deeds forlorne,
And name of learning vtterly doo scorne.
Ne doo they care to haue the auncestrie
Of th'old Heroës memorizde anew, 44o
Ne doo they care that late posteritie
Should know their names, or speak their praises dew:
But die forgot from whence at first they sprong,
As they themselues shalbe forgot ere long.
What bootes it then to come from glorious
Forefathers, or to haue been nobly bredd ?
What oddes twixt 1rus and old Inachus,
Twixt best and worst, when both alike are dedd ;
If none of neither mention should make,
Nor out of dust their memories awake ?
45 °
435 crime Q, F: mi«pr, raime Huo5 Q
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
I6 7
Or who would euer care to doo braue deed,
Or striue in vertue others to excell ;
If none should yeeld him his deserued meed,
Due praise, that is the spur of dooing well ?
For if good were not praised more than ill,
None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill.
Therefore the nurse of vertue I am hight,
And golden Trompet of eternitie,
That lowly thoughts lift vp to heauens hight,
And mortall men haue powre to deifie:
Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heauen,
And Charlemaine, amongst the Starris seauen.
460
But now I will my golden Clarion rend,
And will henceforth immortalize no more:
Sith I no more finde worthie to commend
For prize of value, or for learned lofe:
For noble Peeres whom I was wont to raise,
Now onely seeke for pleasure, nought for praise.
Their great reuenues all in sumptuous pride
They spend, that nought to learning they may spare ; 47o
And the rich fee which Poets wont diuide,
Now Parasites and Sycophants doo share:
Therefore I mourne and endlesse sorrow make,
Both for my selle and for my Sisters sake.
With that she lowdly gan to waile and shrike,
And from her eyes a sea of teares did powre,
And all her sisters with compassion like,
Did more increase the sharpnes of her showre.
So ended she: and then the next in rew
Began her plaint, as doth herein ensew.
480
I68 THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
Irania.
What wrath of Gods, or wicked influence
Of Starres conspiring wretched men t'afflict,
Hath powrd on earth this noyous pestilence,
That mortall mindes doth inwardly infect
With loue of blindnesse and of ignorance,
To dwell in darkenesse without souenance ?
What difference twixt man and beast is left,
W'hen th'heauenlie light of knowledge is put out,
And th'ornaments of wisdome are beref ?
Then wandreth he in error and in doubt,
Vnweeting of the danger hee is in,
Through fleshes frailtie and deceipt of sin.
490
In this wide world in which they wretches stray,
It is the onelie comfort which they haue,
It is their light, their loadstarre and their day;
But hell and darkenesse and the grislie graue
Is ignorance, the enemie of grace,
That mindes of men borne heauenlie doth debace.
Through knowledge we behold the worlds creation,
How in his cradle first he fostred was;
And iudge of Natures cunning operation,
How things she formed of a formelesse mas:
By knowledge wee do learne out selues to knowe,
And what to man, and what to God wee owe.
500
From hence wee mount aloft vnto the skie,
And looke into the Christall firmament,
There we behold the heauens great Hierarchie,
The Starres pure light, the Spheres swift mouement,
The Spirites and Intelligences fayre,
And Angels waighting on th'Almighties chayre. o
486 souenaunce Ita,'l. MS.: souerance Q, F 492 frailtie, F
506 firmament: F
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
And there, with humble minde and high insight,
Th'eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe,
His loue, his truth, his glorie, and his might,
And mercie more than mortall men can vew.
O soueraigne Lord, O soueraigne happinesse
To see thee, and thy mercie measurelesse:
I69
Such happines haue they, that doo embrace
The precepts of my heauenlie discipline;
But shame and sorrow and accursed case
Haue they, that scorne the schoole of arts diuine,
And banish me, which do professe the skill
To make men heauenly wise, through humbled will.
52o
How euer yet they mee despise and spight,
I feede on sweet contentment of my thought,
And please my selle with mine owne selfe-delight,
In contemplation of things heauenlie wrought:
So, loathing earth, I looke vp to the sky,
And being driuen hence, I thether fly.
Thence I behold the miserie of men,
Which want the blis that wisedom would them breed, 3o
And like brute beasts doo fie in loathsome den,
Of ghostly darkenes, and of gastlie dreed :
For whom I mourne and for my selle complaine,
And for my Sisters eake whom they disdaine.
With that shee wept and waild so pityouslie,
As if her eyes had beene two springing wells :
And all the test her sorrow to supplie,
Did throw forth shrieks and cries and dreery yells.
So ended shee, and then the next in rew,
Began her mournfull plaint as doth ensew.
540
511 there, F: there Q
5z8 hence, F: hence Q
5 x 6 measurelesse, F
57 So, F: So Q
7o THE TEARES OF THE MVSES
Polyhymnia.
A dolefull case desires a dolefull song,
Without vaine art or curious complements,
And squallid Fortune into basenes flong,
Doth scorne the pride of wonted ornaments.
Then fittest are these ragged rimes for mee,
To tell my sorrowes that exceeding bee:
For the sweet numbers and melodious measures,
With which I wont the winged words to tie,
And make a tunefull Diapase of pleasures,
Now being let to runne at libertie
By those which haue no skill to rule them right,
Haue now quite lost their naturall delight.
Heapes of huge words vphoorded hideously,
With horrid sound though hauing little sence,
They thinke to be chiefe praise of Poëtry;
And thereby wanting due intelligence,
Haue mard the face of goodly Poësie,
And made a monster of their fantasie:
Whilom in ages past none might professe
But Princes and high Priests that secret skill,
The sacred lawes therein they wont expresse,
And with deepe Oracles their verses fill:
Then was shee held in soueraigne dignitie,
And made the noursling of Nobilitie.
But now nor Prince nor Priest doth her maintayne,
But surfer her prophaned for to bee
Of the base vulgar, that with hands vncleane
Dares to pollute her hidden mysterie.
And treadeth vnder foote hir holie things,
Which was the care of Kesars and of Kings.
550
560
570
566 be F: beee Q
THE TEARES OF THE MVSES.
One onelie liues, her ages ornament,
And myrrour of her Makers maiestie ;
That with rich bountie and deare cherishment,
Supports the praise of noble Poësie:
Ne onelie fauours them which it professe,
But is her selle a peereles Poëtresse.
Most peereles Prince, most peereles Poëtresse,
The true Pandora of all heauenly graces,
Diuine Elisa, sacred Emperesse:
Liue she for euer, and her royall P'laces
Be fild with praises of diuinest wits,
That her eternize with their heauenlie writs.
Some few beside, this sacred skill esteme,
Admirers of her glorious excellence,
Which being lightned with her beawties berne,
Are thereby fild with happie influence:
And lifted vp aboue the worldes gaze,
To sing with Angels her immortall praize.
But all the test as borne of saluage brood,
And hauing beene with Acorns alwaies fed,
Can no whit fauour this celestiall food,
But with base thoughts are into blindnesse led,
And kept from looking on the lightsome day:
For whome I waile and weepe all that I may.
Eftsoones such store of teares she forth did powre,
As if shee all to water would haue gone;
And all her sisters seeing her sad stowre,
Did weep and waile and ruade exceeding mone,
And all their learned instruments did breake.
The rest, watold, no louing tongue can speake.
FINIS.
580
590
6oo
598-600 mone,.., breake. The rest, vntold, F: mone:...breake, The
rest vntolà Q 600 liuing/7 FINIS oto. Q
lirgils Gnat.
Long since dedicated
OEo the most nohle and excellent Lord,
the Earle of Leicester, late
deceased.
Rongd, yet hot daring to expresse my paine,
To you (great Lord) the causer of my tare,
In dowdie teares my case I thus complaine
I/nto your selfe, that onely priuie are :
But if that any Oedipus vnware
Shall chaunce, through power of some diuining spright,
ffeo reade the secrete of this riddle rare,
lnd know the purporte of my euill plight,
Let him rest pleased with his owne insight,
Ne further seeke to glose vpon the text :
For griefe enough it is to grieued wight
ff'o feele his fault, and hot be further vext.
But what so by my selfe may hot be showen,
May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen.
tGrgils Gnat.
E now haue playde (Iugustus) wantonly,
Tuning our song vnto a tender Muse,
And like a cobweb weauing slenderly,
Haue onely playde: let thus much then excuse
This Gnats small Poeme, that th'whole history
Is but a lest, though enuie it abuse:
But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame,
Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name.
Hereafter, when as season more secure
Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee
In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure,
And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie,
The golden offspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great loues progenie,
Ph«bus shall be the author of my song,
P1aying on yuorie harp with siluer strong.
10
He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood
Of Poets Prince, whether he woon beside
Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimeras blood ;
Or in the woods of tstery abide;
Or whereas mount Parnasse, the Muses brood,
Doth his broad forhead like two hornes diuide,
_And the sweete waues of sounding Castaly
With liquid foote doth slide downe easily.
Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee
Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades,
Go too, and dauncing all in companie,
Adorne that God: and thou holie Paies,
To whome the honest care of husbandrie
Returneth by continuall successe,
Haue care for to pursue his footing light;
Throgh the wide woods, and groues, with green leaues dight.
I76
V ll(talLb tal/-k I.
Ne cares he if the fleece, which him arayes,
Be not twice steeped in Assyrian dye,
Ne glistering of golde, which vnderlayes
The summer beames, doe blinde his gazing eye.
Ne pictures beautie, nor the glauncing rayes
Of precious stones, whence no good commeth by;
Ne yet his cup embost with Imagery
Of Bwtus or of llcons vanity.
I00
Ne ought the whelky pearles esteemeth hee,
Which are from Indian seas brought far away:
But with pure brest from carefull sorrow free,
On the sort grasse his limbs doth oft display,
In sweete spring time, when flowres varietie
With sundrie colours paints the sprincled lay;
There lying ail at ease, from guile or spight,
With pype of fennie reedes doth him delight.
IIO
There he, Lord of himselfe, with palme bedight,
His looser locks doth wrap in wreath of vine:
There his milk dropping Goats be his delight,
And fruitefull Pales, and the forrest greene,
And darkesome caues in pleasaunt vallies pight,
Whereas continuall shade is to be seene,
And where fresh springing wells, as christall neate,
Do alwayes flow, to quench his thirstie heate.
120
O who can lead then a more happie lire,
Than he, that with cleane minde and heart sincere,
No greedy riches knowes nor bloudie strife,
No deadly fight of warlick fleete doth feare,
Ne runs in perill of foes cruell knife,
That in the sacred temples he may reare
A trophee of his glittering spoyles and treasure,
Or ma), abound in riches aboue measure.
12 2 heart] harte ttarl. MS : hear Q : hart F I 2 6 reare F: reare, Q
VIRGILS GNAT.
Of him his God is worshipt with his sythe,
And not with skill of craftsman polished:
He ioyes in groues, and makes himselfe full blythe,
With sundrie flowers in wilde fieldes gathered;
Ne frankincens he from Panehwa buyth,
Sweete quiet harbours in his harmeles head,
And perfect pleasure buildes her ioyous bowre,
Free from sad cares, that rich mens hearts deuowre.
I77
x3o
This all his care, this all his whole indeuour,
To this his minde and senses he doth bend,
How he may flow in quiets matchles treasour,
Content with any food that God doth send;
And how his limbs, resolu'd through idle leisour,
Vnto sweete sleepe he may securely lend,
In some coole shadow from the scorching heat,
The whiles his flock their chawed cuds do eate.
14o
O flocks, O Faunes, and O ye pleasaunt springs
Of empe, where the countrey Nymphs are rife,
Through whose not costly care each shepheard sings
As merrie notes vpon his rusticke Fife,
As that lscroean bard, whose fame now rings
Through the ",vide world, and leads as ioyfull life.
Free from ail troubles and from worldly toyle,
In which fond men doe all their dayes turmoyle.
In such delights whilst thus his carelesse time
This shepheard driues, vpleaning on his batt,
And on shrill reedes chaunting his rustick rime,
Hyperion throwing foorth his beames full hott,
Into the highest top of heauen gan clime,
And the world parting by an equall lott,
Did shed his whirling flames on either side,
As the great Oc«an doth himselfe diuide.
I6O
44 eate. F: eate, Q
I49 /lscreean con.). ort;n : .4streean Q, F
I78
VIRGILS GNAT.
Then gan the shepheard gather into one
His stragling Goates, and draue them to a foord,
Whose coerule streame, rombling in Pible stone,
Crept vnder mosse as greene as any goord.
Now had the Sun halfe heauen ouergone,
When he his heard back from that water foord,
Draue from the force of Pheelus boyling ray,
lnto thick shadowes, there themselues to lay.
Soone as he them plac'd in thy sacred wood
(0 Delian Goddesse) saw, to which of yore
Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood,
Cruell lgaue, flying vengeance sore
Of king Nictileus for the guiltie blood,
Which she with cursed hands had shed before ;
There she halfe frantick hauing slaine her sonne,
Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne.
zTo
Here also playing on the grassy greene,
Woodgods, and Satyres, and swift Dryades,
With many Fairies oft were dauncing seene.
Not so much did Dan Orpheus represse, So
The streames of Hebrus with his songs I weene,
As that faire troupe of woodie Goddesses
Staied thee, (O Peneus) powring foorth to thee,
From cheereful lookes, great mirth and gladsome glee.
The verie nature of the place, resounding
With gentle murmure of the breathing ayre,
A pleasant bowre with all delight abounding
In the fresh shadowe did for them prepayre,
To rest their limbs with wearines redounding.
For first the high Palme trees with braunches faire,
Out of the lowly vallies did arlse,
And high shoote vp their heads into the skyes.
84 lookes, F: lookes Q
VIRGILS GNAT.
And them amongst the wicked Lotos grew,
Wicked, for holding guilefully away
Flysses men, whom rapt with sweetenes new,
Taking to hoste, it quite from him did stay,
And eke those trees, in whose transformed hew
The Sunnes sad daughters waylde the rash decay
Of Phaeton, whose limbs with lightening rent,
They gathering vp, with sweete teares did lament.
179
200
And that same tree, in which Demophoon,
By his disloyalty lamented sore,
Eternall hurte left vnto many one:
Whom als accompanied the Oke, of yore
Through fatall charmes transformd to such an one:
The Oke, whose Acornes were out foode, before
That Ceres seede of mortall men were knowne,
Which first ff'riptoleme taught how to be sowne.
Here also grew the rougher rinded Pine,
The great/lrgoan ships braue ornament
Whom golden Fleece did make an heauenly signe:
Which coueting, with his high tops extent,
To make the mountaines touch the starres diuine,
Decks ail the forrest with embellishment,
And the blacke Holme that loues the watrie vale,
And the sweete Cypresse, signe of deadly bale.
210
Emongst the rest the clambring Yuie grew,
Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold,
Least that the Poplar happely should rew
Her brothers strokes, whose boughes she doth enfold z2o
With her lythe twigs, till they the top survew,
And paint with pallid greene ber buds of gold.
Next did the Myrtle tree to her approach,
Not yet vnmindfull of her olde reproach.
z 6 Cypresse, F: Cypresse Q
80 VIRGILS GNAT.
But the small Birds in their wide boughs embowring,
Chaunted their sundrie tunes with sweete consent,
And vnder them a siluer Spring forth powring
His trickling streames, a gentle murmure sent ;
Thereto the frogs, bred in the slimie scowring
Of the moist moores, their iarring voyces bent:
And shrill grashoppers chirped them around:
AI1 which the ayrie Echo did resound.
a3o
In this so pleasant place this Shepheards flocke
Lay euerie where, their wearie limbs to rest,
On euerie bush, and euerie hollow rocke
Where breathe on them the whistling wind mote best ;
The whiles the Shepheard self tending his stocke,
Sate by the fountaine side, in shade to rest,
Where gentle slumbring sleep oppressed him,
Displaid on ground, and seized euerie lira. ,-40
Of trecherie or traines nought tooke he keep,
But looslie on the grassie greene dispredd,
His dearest life did trust to careles sleep ;
Which weighing down his drouping drowsie hedd,
In quiet rest his molten heart did steep,
Deuoid of care, and feare of all falshedd:
Had not inconstant fortune, bent to ill,
Bid strange mischance his quietnes to spill.
For at his wonted time in that same place
An huge great Serpent ail with speckles pide,
To drench himselfe in moorish slime did trace,
There from the boyling heate himselfe to hide:
He passing by with rolling wreathed pace,
With brandisht tongue the emptie aire did gride,
And wrapt his scalie boughts with fell despight,
That ail things seem'd appalled at his sight.
z33 8hepheards F: 8peheards
VIRGILS GNAT. I8I
Now more and more hauing himselfe enrolde,
His glittering breast he lifteth vp on hie,
And with proud vaunt his head aloft doth holde;
His creste aboue spotted with purple die,
On euerie side did shine like scalie golde,
And his bright eyes glauncing full dreadfullie,
Did seeme to flame out flakes of flashing fyre,
And with sterne lookes to threaten kindled yre.
=60
Thus wise long rime he did himselfe dispace
There round about, when as at last he spide
Lying along before him in that place,
That flocks grand Captaine, and most trustie guide:
Eftsoones more tierce in visage, and in pace,
Throwing his firie eyes on euerie side,
He commeth on, and all things in his way
Full stearnly rends, that might his passage stay.
Much he disdaines, that anie one should dare
To come vnto his haunt ; for which intent
He inly burns, and gins straight to prepare
The weapons, which Nature to him hath lent;
Fellie he hisseth, and doth fiercely stare,
.And hath his iawes with angrie spirits rent,
That all his tract with bloudie drops is stained,
And all his foldes are now in length outstrained.
=80
Whom thus at point prepared, to preuent,
.A litle noursling of the humid ayre,
A Gnat vnto the sleepie Shepheard went,
And marking where his ey-lids twinckling rare,
Shewd the two pearles, which sight vnto him lent,
Through their thin couerings appearing fayre,
His little needle there infixing deep,
Warnd him awake, from death himselfe to keep.
x 8oE VIRGILS GNAT.
Wherewith enrag'd, he fiercely gan vpstart,
And with his hand him rashly bruzing, slewe
As in auengement of his heedles smart,
That streight the spirite out of his senses flew,
And life out of his members did depart :
\Vhen suddenly casting aside his vew,
He spide his foe with felonous intent,
And feruent eyes to his destruction bent.
AIl sudderdy dismaid, and hartles quight,
He fled abacke, and catching hastie holde
Of a yong alder hard beside him pight,
It rent, and streight about him gaza beholde,
What God or Fortune would assist his might.
But whether God or Fortune made him bold
Its hard to read: yet hardie will he had
To ouercome, that made him lesse adrad.
3oo
The scalie backe of that most hideous shake
Enwrapped round, oft faining to retire,
And oft him to assaile, he fiercely strake
Whereas his temples did his creast-front tyre;
And for he was but slowe, did slowth off shake,
And gazing ghastly on (for feare and yre
Had blent so much his sense, that lesse he feard ;)
Yet when he saw him slaine, himselfe he cheard.
31o
By this the night forth from the darksome bowre
Of Herebus her teemed steedes gan call,
And laesie Fesper in his timely howre
From golden Oeta gan proceede withall ;
Whenas the Shepheard after this sharpe stowre,
Seing the doubled shadowes low to rail,
Gathering his straying flocke, does homeward rare,
And vnto rest his wearie ioynts prepare.
308 creast-front tyre F: creast front-tyre Q
VIRGILS GNA'r.
Into whose sense so soone as lighter sleepe
Was entered, and now loosing euerie lim,
Sweete slumbring deaw in carelesnesse did steepe,
The Image of that Gnat appeard to him,
And in sad tearmes gan sorrowfully weepe,
With greislie countenaunce and visage grim,
N'ailing the wrong which he had done of late,
In steed of good hastning his cruell rate.
Said he, what haue I wretch deseru'd, that thus
Into this bitter bale I ara outcast,
Wh[lest that thy life more deare and precious
Was than mine owne, so long as it did last ?
I now in lieu of paines so gracious,
Ara tost in th'ayre with euerie windie blast :
Thou sale deliuered from sad decay,
Thy careles limbs in loose sleep dost display.
330
So liuest thou, but my poore wretched ghost
Is forst to ferrie ouer Lethes Riuer,
And spoyld of Chaton too and fro ara tost.
Seest thou, how all places quake and quiuer
Lightned with deadly lamps on euerie post ?
Tisiphone each where doth shake and shiuer
Her flaming tire brond, encountring me,
,Vhose lockes wacombed cruell adders be.
340
And Cerberus, whose many mouthes doo bay,
And barke out flames, as if on tire he fed;
Adowne whose necke in terrible array,
Ten thousand snakes cralling about his hed
Doo hang in heapes, that horribly affray,
And bloodie eyes doo glister firie red;
He oftentimes me dreadfullie doth threaten,
With painfull torments to be sorely beaten.
350
340 8eest thou hot, F 343 fier F
ISz
VIRGILS GNAT.
Ay me, that thankes so much should faile of meed»
For that I thee restor'd to life againe,
Euen from the doore of death and deadlie dreed.
Where then is now the guerdon of my pairie ?
Where the reward of my so piteous deed ?
The praise of pitie vanisht is in vaine,
And th'antique faith of Iustice long agone
Out of the land is fled away and gone.
360
I saw anothers fate approaching fast,
And left mine owne his safetie to tender;
Into the same mishap I now am cast,
And shun'd destruction doth destruction render:
Not vnto him that neuer hath trespast,
But punishment is due to the offender.
Yet let destruction be the punishment,
So long as thankfull will may it relent.
I carried am into waste wildernesse,
Waste wildernes, amongst Cymerian shades,
Where endles paines and hideous heauinesse
ls round about me heapt in darksome glades.
For there huge Otoeos sits in sad distresse,
Fast bound with serpents that him oft inuades:
Far of beholding Epoeialtes tide,
Which once assai'd to burne this world so wide.
370
And there is mournfull itus mindefull yet
Of thy displeasure, O Latona faire;
Displeasure too implacable was it,
That made him meat for wild foules of the ayre:
Much do I feare among such fiends to sit;
Much do I feare back to them to repayre,
To the black shadowes of the Stgian shore,
Where wretched ghosts sit wailing euermore.
380
368 relent. F: relent,
VIRGILS GNAT. 85
There next the vtmost brinck doth he abide,
That did the bankets of the Gods bewray,
Whose throat through thirst to nought nigh being dride
His sense to seeke for ease turnes euery way:
And he that in auengement of his pride,
For scorning to the sacred Gods to pray, 39o
Against a mountaine rolls a mightie stone,
Calling in vaine for rest, and can haue none.
Go ye with them, go cursed damosells,
Whose bridale torches foule Erynnis tynde,
And Hymen at your Spousalls sad, foretells
Tydings of death and massacre vnkinde:
With them that cruell Cokhid mother dwdls,
The which conceiu'd in her reuengefull minde,
With bitter woundes her owne deere babes to slay,
And murdred troupes vpon great heapes to lay.
400
There also those two Pandionian maides,
Calling on Iris, Iris euermore,
Whom wretched boy they slew with guiltie blades ;
For whome the 'hracian king lamenting sore,
Turn'd to a Lapwing, fowlie them vpbraydes,
And fluttering round about them still does sore:
There now they all eternally complaine
Of others wrong, and surfer endles paine.
But the two brethren borne of Cadmus blood,
Whilst each does for the Soueraignty contend,
Blinde through ambition, and with vengeance wood,
Each doth against the others bodie bend
His cursed steele, of neither well withstood,
And with wide wounds their carcases doth rend
That yet they both doe mortall foes remaine,
Sith each with brothers bloudie hand was slaine.
387 throat F: tbaeat Q 406 flutteritag F: flatteritag Q
4 t x wood, F: wood Q
186 V1RGILS GNAT.
Ah (waladay) there is no end of paine,
Nor chaunge of labour may intreated bee."
Yet I beyond all these am carried faine,
Where other powers farre different I see,
And must passe ouer to th'Elisian plaine:
There grim Persephone encountring mee,
Doth vrge her fellow Furies earnestlie,
With their bright firebronds me to terrifie.
420
There chast llceste liues inuiolate,
Free from ail care, for that her husbands daies
She did prolong by changing fate for fate.
Lo there liues also the immortall praise
Of womankinde, most faithfull to her mate,
Penelope: and from her farre awayes
A rulesse rout of yongmen, which her woo'd
AI1 slaine with darts, lie wallowed in their blood.
430
And sad Eurydice thence now no more
Must turne to lire, but there detained bee,
For looking back, being forbid before :
Yet was the guilt thereof, Orpheus, in thee.
Bold sure he was, and worthie spirite bore,
That durst those lowest shadowes goe to see,
And could beleeue that anie thing could please
Fell Cerberus, or Stygian powres appease.
440
Ne feard the burning waues of Phlegeton,
Nor those same mournfull kingdomes, compassed
With rustie horrour and fowle fashion,
And deep digd vawtes, and Tartar couered
With bloodie night, and darke confusion,
And iudgement seates, whose Iudge is deadlie dred.
A iudge, that after death doth punish sore
The faults, which lire hath trespassed before.
4x 7 weladay F 4z7 rate. F: rate, Q
VIRGILS GNAT.
But valiant fortune made Dan Oheus bolde:
For the swift running riuers still did stand,
And the wilde beasts their furie did withhold,
To follow Orheus musicke through the land:
And th'Okes deep grounded in the earthly molde
Did moue, as if they could him vnderstand;
And the shrill woods, which were of sense bereau'd,
Through their hard barke his siluer sound receau'd.
18 7
45o
And eke the Moone her hastie steedes did stay,
Drawing in teemes along the starrie skie,
And didst (O morthly Virgin) thou delay
Thy nightly course, to heare his melodie ?
The saine was able with like louely lay
The Qeene of hell to moue as easily,
To yeeld Eurydice vnto her fere,
Backe to be borne, though it vnlawfull were.
460
She (Ladie) hauing well before approoued,
The feends to be too cruell and seuere,
Obseru'd th'appointed way, as her behooued,
Ne euer did her ey-sight turne arere,
Ne euer spake, ne cause of speaking mooued :
But cruell Orpheus, thou much crueller,
Seeking to kisse her, brok'st the Gods decree,
And thereby mad'st her euer damn'd to be.
47 °
Ah but sweete loue of pardon worthie is,
And doth deserue to haue small faults remitted;
If Hell at least things lightly done amis
Knew how to pardon, when ought is omitted:
Yet are ye both receiued into blis,
And to the seates of happie soules admitted.
And you, beside the honourable band
Of great Heroës, doo in order stand.
48o
480 Heroës,/: Heroës Q
I88 VIRGILS GNAT.
There be the two stout sonnes of leacus,
Fierce Peleus, and the hardie Telarnon,
Both seeming now full glad and ioyeous
Through their Syres dreadfull iurisdiction,
Being the Iudge of all that horrid hous :
And both of them by strange occasion,
Renown'd in choyce of happie marriage
Through lénus grace, and vertues cariage.
For th'one was rauisht of his owne bondmaide,
The faire Ixione captiu'd from Troy:
But th'other was with Thetis loue assaid,
Great Nereus his daughter, and his ioy.
On this side them there is a yongman layd,
Their match in glorie, mightie, tierce and coy;
That from th'Argolick ships, with furious yre,
Bett back the furie of the Troian lyre.
49 °
O who would not recount the strong diuorces
Of that great warre, which Troianes oft behelde,
And oft beheld the warlike Greekish forces,
When Teucrian soyle with bloodie riuers swelde, 500
And wide Sig, ean shores were spred with corses,
And Simois and Xanthus blood outwelde,
Whilst Hector raged with outragious minde,
Flames, weapons, wounds in Greeks fleete to haue tynde.
For Ida selfe, in ayde of that tierce fight,
Out of her mountaines ministred supplies,
And like a kindly nourse, did yeeld (for spight)
Store of firebronds out of her nourseries,
Vnto her foster children, that they might
Inflame the Nauie of their enemies,
And al] the Rhet, ean shore to ashes turne,
Where lay the ships, which they did seeke to burne.
fi x x Rhetcan Q: Rhoetean F
VIRGILS GNAT.
Gainst which the noble sonne of Telamon
Opposd' himselfe, and thwarting his huge shield,
Them battell bad, gainst whom appeard anon
Hector, the glorie of the Troian field:
Both tierce and furious in contention
Encountred, that their mightie strokes so shrild,
As the great clap of thunder, which doth ryue
The ratling heauens, and cloudes asunder dryue.
18 9
So th'one with tire and wealons did contend
To cut the ships, from turning home againe
To Argos, th'other stroue for to defend
The force of lulcane with his might and maine.
Thus th'one Aeacide did his faine extend:
But th'other ioy'd, that on the Phrygian playne
Hauing the blood of vanquisht Hector shedd,
He compast Troy thrice with his bodie dedd.
Againe great dole on either partie grewe,
That him to death vnfaithfull Paris sent,
And also him that false tqysses slewe,
Drawne into danger through close ambushment:
Therefore from him Laërtes sonne his vewe
Doth turne aside, and boasts his good euent
In working of Strymonian Rtuesus fall,
And efte in Dolons subtile surprysall.
53 °
Againe the dreadfull Cycones him dismay,
And blacke Loestrigones, a people stout:
Then greedie $cilla, vnder whom there bay
Manie great bandogs, which her gird about:
Then doo the Aetnean Cyclops him affi'ay,
And deep Charybdis gulphing in and out:
Lastly the squalid lakes of Tartarie,
And griesly Feends of hell him terrifie.
5x40plm'-d F 536 subtile : slye Q
540
I90
VIRGILS GNAT.
There also goodly/Igamemnon bosts,
The glorie of the stock of g'anmlus,
And famous light of all the Greekish hosts,
Vnder whose conduct most victorious,
The Dorick flames consum'd the Iliack posts.
Ah but the Greekes themselues more dolorous,
To thee, O g'roy, paid penaunce for thy fall,
In th'Hellespont being nigh drowned all.
550
Well may appeare by proofe of their mischaunce,
The chaungfull turning of mens slipperie state,
That none, whom fortune freely doth aduaunce,
Himselfe therefore to heauen should eleuate:
For loftie type of honour through the glaunce
Of enuies dart, is downe in dust prostrate;
And all that vaunts in worldly vanitie,
Shall fall through fortunes mutabilitie.
560
Th'Irgolicke power returning home againe,
Enricht with spoyles of th'Ericthonian towre,
Did happie winde and weather entertaine,
And with good speed the fomie billowes scowre:
No signe of storme, no feare of future paine,
Which soone ensued them with heauie stowre.
Nereïs to the Seas a token gaue,
The whiles their crooked keeles the surges claue.
Suddenly, whether through the Gods decree,
Or haplesse rising of some froward starre,
The heauens on euerie side enclowded bee:
Black stormes and fogs are blowen vp from farre,
That now the Pylote can no loadstarre see,
But skies and seas doo make most dreadfull warre;
The billowes striuing to the heauens to reach,
And th'heauens striuing them for to impeach.
575 billowes IIarl. MS. : billowe Q, F
570
VIRGILS GNAT. x9x
And in auengement of their bold attempt,
Both Sun and starres and all the heauenly powres
Conspire in one to wreake their rash contempt,
And downe on them to fall from highest towres: 5So
The skie in pieces seeming to be rent,
Throwes lightning forth, and halle, and harmful showres,
That death on euerie side to them appeares
In thousand formes, to worke more ghastly feares.
Some in the greedie flouds are sunke and drent,
Some on the rocks of Caphareus are throwne ;
Some on th'Euboick Cliffs in pieces rent ;
Some scattred on the Herc,ean shores vnknowne ;
And manie lost, of whom no moniment
Remaines, nor memorie is to be showne:
Whilst all the purchase of the Phrigian pray
Tost on sait billowes, round about doth stray.
590
Here manie other like Heroës bee,
Equall in honour to the former crue,
Whom ye in goodly seates may placed see,
Descended all from Rome by linage due,
From Rome, that holds the world in souereigntie,
And doth ail Nations vnto her subdue:
Here Fabij and Decij doo dwell,
Horatij that in vertue did excell.
600
And here the antique lame of stout Camill
Doth euer liue, and constant Curtius,
Who stifly bent his vowed life to spill
For Countreyes health, a gulph most hideous
Amidst the Towne with his owne corps did fill,
T'appease the powers; and prudent Mutius,
Who in his flesh endur'd the scorching flame,
To daunt his foe by ensample of the same.
58e showres, F': showres Q 59 Pbrigian Q: Pbrygian F
x9 z
VIRGILS GNAT.
And here wise Curius, companion
Of noble vertues, liues in endles rest ;
And stout Flaminius, whose deuotion
Taught him the rires scorn'd furie to detest;
And here the praise of either Scipion
Abides in highest place aboue the best,
To whom the ruin'd walls of Carthage vow'd,
Trembling their forces, sound their praises lowd.
61o
Liue they for euer through their lasting praise:
But I poore wretch am forced to retourne
To the sad lakes, that Pha'bus sunnie rayes
Doo neuer see, where soules doo alwaies mourne,
And by the wayling shores to waste my dayes,
Where Phlegeton with quenchles flames doth burne;
By which iust Minos righteous soules doth seuer
From wicked ones, to liue in blisse for euer.
62O
Me therefore thus the cruell fiends of hell
Girt with long snakes, and thousand yron chaynes,
Through doome of that their cruell Iudge, compell
With bitter torture and impatient paines,
Cause of my death, and iust complaint to tell.
For thou art he, whom my poore ghost complaines
To be the author of her ill vnwares,
That careles hear'st my intollerable cares.
630
Them therefore as bequeathing to the winde,
I now depart, returning to thee neuer,
And leaue this lamentable plaint behinde.
But doo thou haunt the soft downe rolling riuer,
And wilde greene woods, and fruitful pastures minde,
And let the flitting aire my vaine words seuer.
Thus hauing said, he heauily departed
With piteous crie, that anie would haue smarted. 640
609 companion Q: his companion F
VIRGILS GNAT.
Now, when the sloathfull fit of lifes sweete rest
Had left the heauie Shepheard, wondrous cares
His inly grieued minde full sore opprest ;
That balefull sorrow he no longer beares,
For that Gnats death, which deeply was imprest:
But bends what euer power his aged yeares
Him lent, yet being such, as through their might
He lately slue his dreadfull foe in fight.
t93
By that same Riuer lurking vnder greene,
Eftsoones he gins to fashion forth a place,
And squaring it in compasse well beseene,
There plotteth out a tombe by measured space:
His yron headed spade tho making cleene,
To dig vp sods out of the flowrie grasse,
His worke he shortly to good purpose brought,
Like as he had conceiu'd it in his thought.
650
An heape of earth he hoorded vp on hie,
Enclosing it with banks on euerie side,
And thereupon did raise full busily
A little mount, of greene turffs edifide ;
And on the top of all, that passers by
Might it behold, the toomb he did prouide
Of smoothest marble stone in order set,
That neuer might his luckie scape forget.
66o
And
The
The
The
The
The
And
And
round about he taught sweete flowres to growe,
Rose engrained in pure scarlet die,
Lilly fresh, and Violet belowe,
Marigolde, and cherefull Rosemarie,
Spartan Mirtle, whence sweet gumb does flowe,
purple Hyacinthe, and fresh Costmarie,
Saffron sought for in Cilician soyle,
Lawrell th'ornament of Phebus toyle.
670
sFtst t O
I94
VIRGILS GNAT.
Fresh Rhododaphne, and the Sabine flowre
Matching the wealth of th'auncient Frankincence,
And pallid Yuie building his owne bowre,
And Box yet mindfull of his olde offence,
Red Imaranthus, lucklesse Paramour,
Oxeye still greene, and bitter Patience;
Ne wants there pale .Narcisse, that in a well
Seeing his beautie, in loue with it fell:
680
And whatsoeuer other flowre of worth,
And whatso other hearb of louely hew
The ioyous Spring out of the ground brings forth,
To cloath her selfe in colours fresh and new;
He planted there, and reard a mount of earth»
In whose high front was writ as doth ensue.
ff'o thee, small Gnat, in lieu of hh life saued,
ff'he 8hepheard bath thy deaths record engraued.
FINIS.
680 fell: F: fell, Q
PROSOPOPOIA.
Or
Mother Hubberd« Tale.
By E.
Dedicated to the tight
the Ladie Compton and
Imlsrinted for FviIliam
Po,tnbie, dwelling in Paules
Churchyard at thê ligne of"
che iHop hetd.
02
To the right Honourable, the
Ladie Compton and
gVIountegle.
Ost faire and vertuous Ladie ; hauing often
sought opportunitie by some good meanes to
make knowen to your Ladiship» the humble
affection and faithfull duetie, which I haue
alwaies professed, and ara bound to beare
to that House, from whence yee spring,
I haue at length found occasion to remember
the saine, by making a simple present to you
of these my idle labours ; which hauing
long sithens composed in the raw conceipt of my youth, I lately
amongst other papers lighted vpon, and was by others, which liked
the mme, mooued to set them foorth. Simple is the deuice, and the
composition meane, yet carrieth some delight, euen the rather because
of the simplicitie and meannesse thus personated. The saine 1
beseech your Ladiship take in good part, as a pledge of that pro-
fession which I haue ruade to you, and keepe with you vntiil with
some other more worthie labour, I do redeeme it out of your hands,
and discharge my vtmost dutie. Tiil then wishing your Ladiship
ai1 increase of honour and happinesse, _r humblie take leaue.
Your La : euer
humbly;
lrosopopoia : or
OEot]er Huerc[s 7ale.
'T was the month, in which the righteous Maide,
-That for disdaine of sinfull worlds vpbraide,
Fled back to heauen, whence she was first conceiued,
Into her siluer bowre the Sunne receiued;
And the hot Syrian Dog on him awayting,
After the chased Lyons cruell bayting,
Corrupted had th'ayre with his noysome breath,
And powr'd on th'earth plague, pestilence, ard death.
Emongst the rest a wicked maladie
Raign'd emongst men, that manie did to die, o
Depriu'd of sense and ordinarie reason;
That it to Leaches seemed strange and geason.
My fortune was mongst manie others moe,
To be partaker of their common woe;
And my weake bodie set on tire with griefe,
Was rob'd of test, and naturall reliefe.
In this iii plight, there came to visite mee
Some friends, who sorie my sad case to see,
Began to comfort me in chearfull wise,
And meanes of gladsome solace to deuise. 20
But seeing kindly sleep refuse to doe
His office, and my feeble eyes forgoe,
They sought my troubled sense how to deceaue
With talke, that might vnquiet fancies reaue ;
And sitting ail in seates about me round,
With pleasant tales (fit for that idle stound)
They cast in course to waste the wearie howres:
Some tolde of Ladies, and their Paramoures ;
Some of braue Knights, and their renowned Squires ;
Some of the Faeries and their strange attires; :3o
And some of Giaunts hard to be beleeued,
That the delight thereof me much releeued.
2 5 in Q: on F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Amongst the resta good old woman was,
Hight Mother Hubberd, who did farre surpas
The rest in honest mirth, that seem'd her well:
She when her turne was come her tale to tell,
Tolde of" a strange aduenture, that betided
Betwixt the Foxe and th'Ape by him misguided;
The which for that my sense it greatly pleased,
Ail were my spirite heauie and diseased, 40
lle write in termes, as she the same did say,
So well as I her words remember may.
No Muses aide me needes heretoo to call;
Base is the style, and matter meane withall.
¶ Whilome (said she) before the world was ciuill,
The Foxe and th'Ape disliking of their euill
And hard estate, determined to seeke
Their fortunes farre abroad, lyeke with his lyeke:
For both were craftie and vnhappie witted;
Two fellowes might no where be better fitted. 5o
The Foxe, that first this cause of griefe did finde,
Gan first thus plaine his case with words vnkinde.
Neighbour Ape, and my Gossip eke beside,
(Both two sure bands in friendship to be tide,)
To whom may I more trustely complaine
The euill plight, that doth me sore constraine,
And hope thereof to finde due remedie ?
Heare then my paine and inward agonie.
Thus manie yeares I now haue spent and worne,
In meane regard, and basest fortunes scorne, 60
Dooing my Countrey seruice as I might,
No lesse I date saie than the prowdest wight;
And still I hoped to be vp aduaunced,
For my good parts; but still it hath mischaunced.
Now therefore that no lenger hope I see,
But froward fortune still to follow mee,
And losels lifted high, where I did looke,
I meane to turne the next leafe of the booke.
Yet ere that anie way I doo betake,
I meane my Gossip priuie first to make. 70
53 Gossip F: Goship Q 67 high F, G. MS. : up on high Q
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. 99
Ah my deare Gossip, (answer'd then the Ape,)
Deeply doo your sad words my wits awhape,
Both for because your griefe doth great appeare,
And eke because my selle ara touched neare:
For I likewise haue wasted much good time,
Still wayting to preferment vp to clime,
¢Vhilest others alwayes haue belote me stept,
And from my beard the fat away haue swept;
That now vnto despaire I gin to growe,
And meane for better winde about to throwe. 8o
Therefore to me, my trustie friend, aread
Thy councell: two is better than one head.
Certes (said he) I meane me to disguize
In some straunge habit, after vncouth wize,
Or like a Pilgrime, or a Lymiter,
Or like a Gipsen, or a Iuggeler,
And so to wander to the worlds ende,
To seeke my fortune, where I may it mend:
For worse than that I haue, I cannot meete.
Wide is the world I wote and euerie streete 9o
Is full of fortunes, and aduentures straunge,
Continuallie subiect vnto chaunge.
Say my faire brother now, if this deuice
Doth like you, or may you to like entice.
Surely (said th'Ape) it likes me wondrous well;
And would ye hOt poore fellowship expell,
My selle would offer you t'accompanie
In this aduentures chauncefull ieopardie.
For to wexe olde at home in idlenesse,
Is disaduentrous, and quite fortunelesse : ,oo
Abroad where change is, good may gotten bee.
The Foxe was glad, and quickly did agree:
So both resolu'd, the morrow next ensuing,
So soone as day appeard to peoples vewing,
On their intended iourney to proceede ;
And ouer night, whatso theretoo did neede,
79 growe, F: growe OE 87 worldes F 94 entice. F: entice, Q
oo MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Each did prepare, in readines to bee.
The morrow next, so soone as one might see
Light out of heauens windowes forth to looke,
Both their habiliments vnto them tooke,
And put themselues (a Gods name) on their way.
Whenas the Ape beginning well to wey
This hard aduenture, thus began t'aduise ;
Now read Sir Reynold, as ye be right wise,
What course ye weene is best for vs to take,
That for our selues we may a liuing make.
Whether shall we professe some trade or skill ?
Or shall we varie our deuice at will,
Euen as new occasion appeares ?
Or shall we tie our selues for certaine yeares
To anie seruice, or to anie place ?
For it behoues ere that into the race
We enter, to resolue first herevpon.
Now surely brother (said the Foxe anon)
Ye haue this matter motioned in season:
For euerie thing that is begun with reason
Will come by readie meanes vnto his end;
But things miscounselled must needs miswend.
Thus therefore I aduize vpon the case,
That not to anie certaine trade or place,
Nor anie man we should out selues applie:
For wh)" should he that is at libertie
Make himselfe bond ? sith then we are free borne,
Let vs all seruile base subiection scorne ;
And as we bee sonnes of the world so wide,
Let vs out fathers heritage diuide,
And chalenge to out selues our portions dew
Of all the patrimonie, which a few
Now hold in hugger mugger in their hand,
And ail the rest doo rob of good and land.
For now a few haue all and all haue nought,
Yet all be brethren ylike dearly bought :
There is no right in this partition,
Ne was it so by institution
x 9 Euen as occasion best to vs appeares G./k/S.
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. ao
Ordained first, ne by the law of Nature,
But that she gaue like blessing to each creture
As well of worldly liuelode as of life,
That there might be no difference nor strife,
Nor ought cald mine or thine: thrice happie then
Was the condition of mortall men.
That was the golden age of Saturne old,
But this might better be the world of gold:
For without golde now nothing wilbe got.
Therefore (if please you) this shalbe our plot,
We will hOt be of anie occupation,
Let such vile vassalls borne to base vocation
Drudge in the world, and for their liuing droyle
Which haue no Wit to liue withouten toyle.
But we will walke about the world at pleasure
Like two free men, and make our ease a treasure.
Free men some beggers call, but they be free,
And they which call them so more beggers bee:
For they doo swinke and sweate to feed the other,
Who liue like Lords of that which they doo gather,
And yet doo neuer thanke them for the saine,
But as their due by Nature doo it clame.
Such will we fashion both our selues to bee,
Lords of the world, and so will wander free
Where so vs listeth, vncontrol'd of anie:
Hard is our hap, if we (emongst so manie)
Light hOt on some that may our state amend ;
Sildome but some good commeth ere the end.
Well seemd the Ape to like this ordinaunce:
Yet well considering of the circumstaunce,
As pausing in great doubt awhile he staid,
And afterwards with graue aduizement said;
I cannot my lier brother like but well
The purpose of the complot which ye tell:
For well I wot (compar'd to all the re.st
Of each degree) that Beggers life is best: I8o
And they that thinke themselues the best of all,
Oft-times to begging are content to fall.
x6 9 anie: Q: any. F
o MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
But this I wot withall that we shall ronne
Into great daunger like to bee vndonne,
Thus wildly to wander in the worlds eye,
Without pasport or good warrantie,
For feare least we like rogues should be reputed,
And for eare marked beasts abroad be bruted:
Therefore I read, that we our counsells call,
How to preuent this mischiefe ere it fall,
And how we may with most securitie,
Beg amongst those that beggers doo defie.
Right well deere Gossip ye aduized haue,
(Said then the Foxe) but I this doubt will saue:
For ere we farther passe, I will deuise
A pasport for vs both in fittest wize,
And by the names of Souldiers vs protect ;
That now is thought a ciuile begging sect.
Be you the Souldier, for you likest are
For manly semblance, and small skill in warre: 2oo
I will but wayte on you, and as occasion
Falls out, my selfe fit for the saine will fashion.
The Pasport ended, both they forward went,
The Ape clad Souldierlike, fit for th'intent,
In a blew iacket with a crosse of redd
And manie slits, as if that he had shedd
Much blood throgh many wounds therein receaued,
Which had the vse of his right arme bereaued;
Vpon his head an old Scotch cap he wore,
With a plume feather all to peeces tore: 2,0
His breeches were made after the new cut,
A1 Portugese, loose like an emptie gut;
And his hose broken high aboue the heeling,
And his shooes beaten out with traueling.
But neither sword nor dagger he did beare,
Seemes that no foes reuengement he did feare;
In stead of them a handsome bat he held,
On which he leaned, as one farre in elde.
84 vndonne, F: vndonne. Q 8 5 Wildly to wander thus F
Without Q, F: Withouten G. 21fS.
186
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. 203
Shame light on him, that through so false illusion,
Doth turne the name of Souldiers to abusion,
And that, whîch is the noblest mysterie,
Brings to reproach and common infamie.
Long they thus trauailed, yet neuer met
Aduenture, which might them a working set:
Yet manie waies they sought, and manie tryed :
Yet for their purposes none fit espyed.
At last they chaunst to meete vpon the way
A simple husbandmar in garments gray ;
Yet though his vesture were but meane and bace,
A good yeoman he was of honest place, 230
And more for thrift did care than for gay clothing:
Gay without good, is good hearts greatest loathing.
The Foxe him spying, bad the Ape him dight
To play his part, for loe he was in sight,
That (if he er'd hOt) should them entertaine,
And yeeld them timely profite for their paine.
Eftsoones the Ape himselfe gan vp to reare,
And on his shoulders high his bat to beare,
As if good seruice he were fit to doo;
But little thrift for him he did it too: 24o
And stoutly forward he his steps did straine,
That like a hardsome swaine it him became:
When as they nigh approached, that good man
Seeing them wander loosly, first began
T'enquire of custome, what and wherce they were ?
To whom the Ape, I am a Souldiere,
That late in warres haue spent my deerest blood,
And in long seruice lost both limbs and good,
And now constrairt'd that trade to ouergiue,
I driuen am to seeke some meanes to liue: 250
Which might it you in pitie please t'afford,
I would be readie both in deed and word,
To doo you faithfull seruice all my dayes.
This yron world (that saine he weeping sayes)
Brings downe the stowtest hearts to lowest state:
For miserie doth brauest mindes abate,
2 5 t'afford, F: t'aflrord. Q
o4
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
And make them seeke for that they wont to scorne,
Of fortune and of hope at once forlorne.
The honest man, that heard him thus complaine,
Was grieu'd, as he had felt part of his paine; 26o
And well disposd' him some reliefe to showe,
Askt if in husbandrie he ought did knowe,
To plough, to plant, to reap, to rake, to sowe,
To hedge, to ditch, to thrash, to thetch, to mowe;
Or to what labour els he was prepar'd ?
For husbands life is labourous and hard.
Whenas the Ape him hard so much to talke
Of labour, that did from his liking balke,
He would haue slipt the coller handsomly,
And to him said; good Sir, full glad am I, 2;o
To take what paines may anie liuing wight:
But my late maymed limbs lack wonted might
To doo their kindly seruices, as needeth:
Scarce this right hand the mouth with diet feedeth,
So that it may no painfull worke endure,
Ne to strong labour can it selfe enure.
But if that anie other place you haue,
Which askes small paines, but thriftines to saue,
Or care to ouerlooke, or trust to gather,
Ye may me trust as your ov¢ne ghostly father. 280
With that the husbandman gan him auize
That it for him were fittest exercise
Cattell to keep, or grounds to ouersee ;
And asked him, if he could willing bee
To keep his sheep, or to attend his swyne,
Or watch his mares, or take his charge of kyne ?
Gladly (said he) what euer such like paine
Ye put on me, I will the same sustaine:
But gladliest I of your fleecie sheepe
(Might it you please) would take on me the keep. 9o
For ere that vnto armes I me betooke,
Vnto my fathers sheepe I vsde to looke,
That yet the skill thereof I haue not loste:
Thereto right well this Curdog by my coste
6I disposd F 264 thatch, F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. o5
(Meaning the Foxe) will serue, my sheepe to gather,
And driue to follow after their Belwether.
The Husbandman was meanly wdl content,
Triall to make of his endeuourment,
And home him leading, lent to him the charge
Of ail his flocke, with libertie full large, 3oo
Giuing accompt of th'annuall increace
Both of their lambes, and of their woolley fleece.
Thus is this Ape be¢ome a shepheard swaine
And the false Foxe his dog (God giue them paine)
For ere the yeare haue halfe his course oubrun,
And doo returne from whence he first begun,
They shall him make an ill accompt of thrift.
Now whenas Time flying with winges swift,
Expired had the terme, that these two iauels
Should render vp a reckning of their trauels 3Io
Vnto their master, which it of them sought,
Exceedingly they troubled were in thought,
Ne wist what answere vnto him to frame,
Ne how to scape great punishment, or shame,
For their false treason and vile theeuerie.
For not a lambe of all their flockes supply
Had they to shew: but euer as they bred,
They slue them, and vpon their fleshes fed:
For that disguised Dog lou'd blood to spill,
And drew the wicked Shepheard to his will. 320
So twixt them both they not a lambkin left,
And when lambes fail'd, the old sheepes liues they refi ;
That how t'acquite themselues vnto their Lord,
They were in doubt, and flatly set abord.
The Foxe then counsd'd th'Ape, for to require
Respite till morrow, t'answere his desire:
For times delay new hope of helpe still breeds.
The goodman granted, doubting nought their deeds,
And bad, next day that all should readie be.
But they more subtil1 meaning had than he: 33o
For the next morrowes meed they closely ment,
For feare of afterdaps for to preuent.
And that same euening, when ail shrowded were
308 winges l'Iugbe: wings OE, Ff
o6 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
In careles sleep, they without care or feare,
Cruelly fell vpon their flock in folde,
And of them slew at pleasure what they wolde:
Of which whenas they feasted had their fill,
For a full complement of ail their ill,
They stole away, and tooke their hastie flight,
Carried in clowdes of all-concealing night. 340
So was the husbandman left to his losse,
And they vnto their fortunes change to tosse.
Afier which sort they wandered long while,
Abusing manie through their cloaked guile;
That at the last they gan tobe descryed
Of euerie one, and ail their sleights espyed.
So as their begging now them failed quyte;
For none would giue, but ail men would them wyte:
Yet would they take no paines to get their liuing,
But seeke some other way to gaine by giuing, 350
Much like to begging but much better named;
For manie beg, which are thereof ashamed.
And now the Foxe had gotten him a gowne,
And th'Ape a cassocke sidelong hanging downe;
For they their occupation meant to change,
And now in other state abroad to range:
For since their souldiers pas no better spedd,
They forg'd another, as for Clerkes booke-redd.
Who passing foorth, as their aduentures fell,
Through manie haps, which needs not here to tell; 360
At length chaunst with a formall Priest to meete,
Whom they in ciuill manner first did greete,
And after askt an almes for Gods deare loue.
The man straight way his choler vp did moue,
And with reproachfull tearmes gan them reuile,
For following that trade so base and vile;
And askt what license, or what Pas they had ?
Ah (said the Ape as sighing wondrous sad)
Its an hard case, when men of good deseruing
Must either driuen be perforce to steruing, 370
Or asked for their pas by euerie squib,
That list at will them to reuile or snib:
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. ao 7
And yet (God wote) small oddes I often see
Twixt them that aske, and them that asked bee.
Natheles because )'ou shall hOt vs misdeeme,
But that we are as honest as we seeme,
Yee shall our pasport at your pleasure see,
And then ye will (I hope) well mooued bee.
Which when the Priest beheld, he vew'd it nere,
As if therein some text he studying were, 380
But little els (God wote) could thereof skill :
For read he could hOt euidence, nor will,
Ne tell a written word, ne write a letter,
Ne make one title worse, ne make one better:
Of such deep learning little had he neede,
Ne yet of Latine, ne of Greeke, that breede
Doubts mongst Diuines, and difference of texts,
From whence arise diuersitie of sects,
And hatefull heresies, of God abhor'd."
But this good Sir did follow the plaine word, 390
Ne medled with their controuersies vaine.
Ail his care was, his seruice well to saine,
And to read Homelies vpon holidayes :
When that was done, he might attend his playes ;
An easie lire, and fit high God to please.
He hauing ouerlookt their pas at ease,
Gan at the length them to rebuke againe,
That no good trade of life did entertaine,
But lost their rime in wandring loose abroad,
Seeing the world, in which they bootles boad, 4oo
Had wayes enough for all therein to liue;
Such grace did God vnto his creatures giue.
Said then the Foxe; who hath the world hOt tride,
From the right way full eath may wander wide.
We are but Nouices, new corne abroad,
We haue hOt yet the tract of anie troad,
Nor on vs taken anie state of life,
But readie are of anie to make preife.
Therefore might please you, which the world haue proued,
Vs to aduise, which forth but lately moued,
Of some good course, that we might vndertake;
208 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Ye shall for euer vs your bondmen make.
The Prie.st gan wexe halfe proud to be so praide,
And thereby willing to affoord them aide;
It seemes (said he) right well that ye be Clerks,
Both by your wittie words, and by your werks.
Is hOt that name enough to make a liuing
To him that hath a whit of Natures giuing ?
How manie honest men see ye arize
Daylie thereby, and grow to goodly prize ? 420
To Deanes, to Archdeacons, to Commissaries,
To Lords, to Principalls, to Prebendaries;
All iolly Prelates, worthie rule to beare,
Who euer them enuie: yet spite bites neare.
Why should ye doubt then, but that ye likewise
Might vnto some of those in time arise?
In the meane rime to liue in good estate,
Louing that love, and hating those that hate;
Being some honest Curate, or some Vicker
Content with little in condition sicker. 430
Ah but (said th'Ape) the charge is wondrous great,
To feed mens soules, and hath an heauie threat.
To feede mens soules (quoth he) is hot in man:
For they must feed themselves, doo what we can.
We are but charg'd to lay the meate before :
F'.ate they that list, we need to doo no more.
But God it is that feedes them with his grace,
The bread of life powr'd downe from heauenly place.
Therefore said he, that with the budding rod
Did rule the Iewes, ,4ll shalbe taught of God. 440
That same hath Iesus Christ now to him raught,
By whom the flock is rightly fed, and taught :
He is the Shepheard, and the Priest is hee ;
We but his shepheard swaines ordain'd to bee.
Therefore herewith doo hOt your selfe dismay;
Ne is the paines so great, but beare ye may ;
For hOt so great as it was wont of yore,
It's now a dayes, ne halfe so streight and sore:
418 whit Q, F: witt G. MS.
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
209
They whilome vsed duly euerie day
Their seruice and their holie things to say, 450
At morne and euen, besides their Anthemes sweete,
Their penie Masses, and their Complynes meete,
Their Diriges, their Trentals, and their shrifts,
Their memories, their singings, and their gifts.
Now all those needlesse works are laid away:
Now once a weeke vpon the Sabbath day,
It is enough to doo our small deuotion,
And then to follow any merrie motion.
Ne are we tyde to fast, but when we list,
Ne to weare garments base of wollen twist, 46o
But with the finest silkes vs to aray,
That before God we may appeare more gay,
Resembling,4ar0ns glorie in his place: 0
For farre vnfit it is, that person bace
Should with vile cloaths approach Gods maiestie,
Whom no vncleannes may approachen nie:
Or that all men, which anie master serue,
Good garments for their seruice should deserue;
But he that serues the Lord of hoasts most high,
And that in highest place, t'approach him nigh, 470
And all the peoples prayers to present
Before his throne, as on ambassage sent
Both too and fro, should not deserue to weare
A garment better, than of wooll or heare.
Beside we may haue lying by our sides
Our louely Lasses, or bright shining Brides:
We be not tyde to wilfull chastitie,
But haue the Gospell of free libertie.
By that he ended had his ghostly sermon,
The Foxe was well induc'd to be a Parson ; 480
And of the Priest eftsoones gan to enquire,
How to a Benefice he might aspire.
Marie there (said the Priest) is arte indeed.
M uch good deep learning one thereout may reed,
For that the ground worke is, and end of all,
453 Diriges F: Dirges Q: Dirges with G. MS.
P
xo MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
How to obtaine a Beneficiall.
First therefore, when ye haue in handsome wise
Your selfe attyred, as you can deuise,
Then to some Noble man your selfe applye,
Or other great one in the worldes eye, 490
That hath a zealous disposition
To God, and so to his religion:
There must thou fashion eke a godly zeale,
Such as no carpers may contrayre reueale:
For each thing fained, ought more warie bee.
There thou must walke in sober grauitee,
And seeme as Saintlike as Saint Radeund:
Fast much, pray oft, looke lowly on the ground,
And vnto euerie one doo curtesie meeke:
These lookes (nought saying) doo a benefice seeke, 5oo
And be thou sure one hOt to lacke or long.
But if thee list vnto the Court to throng,
And there to hunt after the hoped pray,
Then must thou thee dispose another way:
For there thou needs must learne, to laugh, to lie,
To face, to forge, to scoffe, to companie,
To crouche, to please, to be a beetle stock
Of thy great Masters will, to scorne, or mock:
So maist thou chaunce mock out a Benefice,
Vnlesse thou canst one conjure by deuice, 5IO
Or cast a figure for a Bishoprick:
And if one could, it were but a schoole-trick.
These be the wayes, by which without reward
Liuings in Court be gotten, though full hard.
For nothing there is done without a fee:
The Courtier needes must recompenced bee
With a Beneuolence, or haue in gage
The Primitias of your Parsonage :
Scarse can a Bishoprick forpas them by,
But that it must be gelt in priuitie. 5o
Doo not thou therefore seeke a liuing there,
But of more priuate persons seeke elswhere,
5ox or: ereF
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Whereas thou maist compound a better penie,
Ne let thy learning question'd be of anie.
For some good Gentleman that hath the right
Vnto his Church for to present a wight,
Will cope with thee in reasonable wise;
That if the liuing yerely doo arise
To fortie pound, that then his yongest sonne
Shall twentie haue, and twentie thou hast wonne: 53o
Thou hast it wonne, for it is of franke gift,
And he will care for all the rest to shift;
Both that the Bishop ma)" admit of thee,
And that therein thou maist maintained bee.
This is the way for one that is vnlern'd
Liuing to get, and not to be discern'd.
But they that are great Clerkes, haue nearer wayes,
For learning sake to liuing them to raise:
Yet manie eke of them (God wote) are driuen,
T'accept a Benefice in peeces riuen.
How saist thou (friend) haue I hOt well discourst
Vpon this Common place (though plaine, not wourst)?
Better a short raie, than a bad long shriuing.
Needes anie more to learne to get a liuing ?
Now sure and by my hallidome (quoth he)
Ye a great master are in your degree:
Great thankes I yeeld you for ïour discipline,
And doo not doubt, but duly to encline
My wits theretoo, as ye shall shortly heare.
The Priest him wisht good speed, and well to fare. o °
So parted they, as eithers way them led.
But th'Ape and Foxe ere long so well them sped,
Through the Priests holesome counsell lately tought,
And throgh their own faire handling wisely wroght,
That they a Benefice twixt them obtained;
And craftie Reynold was a Priest ordained;
And th'Ape his Parish Clarke procur'd to bee.
Then made they reuell route and goodly glee.
But ere long time had passed, they so ill
553 wholsome F
OExoE MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Did order their affaires, that th'euill will 560
Of all their Parishners they had constraind;
Who to the Ordinarie of them complain'd,
How fowlie they their oflîces abusd',
And them of crimes and heresies accusd';
That Pursiuants he often for them sent:
But they neglected his commaundement.
So long persisted obstinate and bolde,
Till at the length he published to holde
A Visitation, and them cyted thether:
Then was high time their wits about to geather ; 570
What did they then, but made a composition
\Vith their next neighbor Priest for light condition,
To whom their liuing they resigned quight
For a few pence, and ran away by night.
So passing through the Countrey in disguize,
They fled farre off, where none might them surprize,
And after that long straied here and there,
Through euerie field and forrest farre and nere;
Yet neuer round occasion for their tourne,
But almost steru'd, did much lament and mourne. 580
At last they chaunst to meete vpon the way
The Mule, all deckt in goodly rich aray,
With bells and bosses, that full lowdly rung,
And costly trappings, that to ground downe hung.
Lowly they him saluted in meeke wise,
But he through pride and fatnes gan despise
Their meanesse ; scarce vouchsafte them to requite.
Whereat the Foxe deep groning in his sprite,
Said, Ah sir Mule, now blessed be the day,
That I see you so goodly and so gay 590
In your attyres, and eke your silken hyde
Fil'd with round flesh, that euerie bone doth hide.
Seemes that in fruitfull pastures ye doo liue,
Or fortune doth you secret fauour giue.
Foolish Foxe (said the Mule) thy wretched need
Praiseth the thing that doth thy sorrow breed.
$63- 4 abusd' . . . accusd' Q: abus'd . . . accus'd F
592 Fil'd with round Q, F: Fil'd round with G. MS.
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. OEI3
For well I weene, thou canst hot but enuie
My wealth, compar'd to thine owne miserie,
That art so leane and meagre waxen late,
That scarse thy legs vphold thy feeble gate. 6o0
Ay me (said then the Foxe) whom euill hap
Vnworthy in such wretchednes doth wrap,
And makes the scorne of other beasts to bee:
But read (faire Sir, of grace) from whence corne yee ?
Or what of tidings you abroad doo heare ?
Newes may perhaps some good vnweeting beare.
From royall Court I lately came (said he)
Where all the brauerie that eye may see,
And all the happinesse that heart desire,
Is to be found ; he nothing can admire, 6xo
That hath not seene that heauens portracture:
But tidings there is none I you assure,
Saue that which common is, and knowne to ail,
That Courtiers as the tide doo rise and fall.
But tell vs (said the Ape) we doo you pray,
Who now in Court doth beare the greatest sway.
That if such fortune doo to vs befall,
We may seeke fauour of the best of all.
Marie (said he) the highest now in grace,
Be the wilde beasts, that swiftest are in chace ; 620
For in their speedie course and nimble flight
The Lyon now doth take the most delight:
But chieflie, ioyes on foote them to beholde,
Enchaste with chalne and circulet of golde:
So wilde a beast so tame ytaught to bee,
And buxome to his bands, is ioy to see.
So well his golden Circlet him beseemeth:
But his late chayne his Liege vnmeete esteemeth;
For so braue beasts she loueth best to see,
In the wilde forrest raunging fresh and free. 63o
Therefore if fortune thee in Court to liue,
In case thou euer there wilt hope to thriue,
To some of these thou must thy selfe apply:
626 bands Q, F 629 she Q: hee F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Els as a thistle-downe in th'ayre doth flie,
So vainly shalt thou too and fro be tost,
And loose thy labour and thy fruitles cost.
And yet full few, which follow them I see,
For vertues bare regard aduaunced bee,
But either for some gainfull benefit,
Or that they may for their owne turnes be fit. 6o
Nath'les perhaps ye things may handle soe,
That ye may better thriue than thousands moe.
But (said the Ape) how shall we first come in,
That after we may fauour seeke to win ?
How els (said he) but with a good bold face,
And with big words, and with a stately pace,
That men may thinke of you in generall,
That to be in you, which is hOt at ail:
For not by that which is, the world now deemeth,
(As it was wont) but by that same that seemeth. 65o
Ne do I doubt, but that ye well can fashion
Your selues theretoo, according to occasion:
So fare ye well, good Courtiers may ye bee;
So proudlie neighing from them parted hee.
Then gan this craftie couple to deuize,
How for the Court themselues they might aguize:
For thither they themselues meant to addresse,
In hope to finde there happier successe;
So well they shifted, that the Ape anon
Himselfe had cloathed like a Gentleman, 66o
And the slie Foxe, as like to be his groome,
That to the Court in seemly sort they corne.
Where the fond Ape himselfe vprearing hy
Vpon his tiptoes, stalketh stately by,
As if he were some great Magnifico,
And boldlie doth amongst the boldest go.
And his man Reynold with fine counterfesaunce
Supports his credite and his countenaunce.
Then gan the Courtiers gaze on euerie side,
And stare on him, with big lookes basen wide,
648 at ail IIarl. MS., F, G. MS. : ail Q
658 successe; F: successe, Q
670
65o it seemeth F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. 25
Wondring what mister wight he was, and whence:
For he was clad in strange accoustrements,
Fashion'd with queint deuises neuer seene
In Court before, yet there all fashions beene:
Yet he them in newfanglenesse did pas:
But his behauiour altogether was
/llla Turchesca, much the more admyr'd,
And his lookes Ioftie, as if he aspyr'd
To dignitie, and sdeign'd the low degree;
That all which did such strangenesse in him see, 680
By secrete meanes gan of his state enquire,
And priuily his seruant thereto hire:
Who throughly arm'd against such couerture,
Reported vnto all, that he was sure
A noble Gentleman of high regard,
Which through the world had with long trauel far'd,
And seene the manners of all beasts on ground;
Now here arriu'd, to see if like he round.
Thus did the Ape at first him credit gaine,
Which afterwards he wisely did maintaine 69o
With gallant showe, and daylie more augment
Through his fine feates and Courtly complement;
For he could play, and daunce, and vaute, and spring,
And all that els pertaines to reueling,
Onely through kindly aptnes of his ioynts.
Besides he could doo manie other poynts,
The which in Court him serued to good stead :
For he mongst Ladies could their fortunes read
Out of their hands, and merie leasings tell,
And iuggle finely, that became him well: 7oo
But he so light was at legier demaine,
That what he toucht, came hOt to light againe ;
Yet would he laugh it out, and proudly looke,
And tell them, that they greatly him mistooke.
So would he scoffe them out with mockerie,
For he therein had great felicitie ;
And with sharp quips ioy'd others to deface,
Thinking that their disgracing did him grace:
So whilst that other like vaine wits he pleased,
,6 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
And made to laugh, his heart was greatly eased. 7,o
But the right gentle minde would bite his lip,
To heare the Iauell so good men to nip:
For though the vulgar yeeld an open eare,
And common Courtiers loue to gybe and fleare
At euerie thing, which they heare spoken ill,
And the best speaches with ill meaning spill;
Yet the braue Courtier, in whose beauteous thought
Regard of honour harbours more than ought,
Doth loath such base condition, to backbite
Anies good name for enuie or despite: 720
He stands on tearmes of honourable minde,
Ne will be carried with the common winde
Of Courts inconstant mutabilitie,
Ne after euerie tattling fable file;
But heares, and sees the follies of the rest,
And thereof gathers for himselfe the best:
He will hOt creepe, nor crouche with fained face,
But walkes vpright with comely stedfast pace,
And vnto all doth yeeld due curtesie ;
But hOt with kissed hand belowe the knee, 730
As that same Apish crue is wont to doo:
For he disdaines himselfe t'embase theretoo.
He hates fowle leasings, and vile flatterie,
Two filthie blots in noble Gentrie ;
And lothefull idlenes he doth detest,
The canker worme of euerie gende brest;
The which to banish with faire exercise
Of knightly feates, he daylie doth deuise:
Now menaging the mouthes of stubborne steedes,
Now practising the proofe of warlike deedes, 740
Now his bright armes assaylng, now his speare,
Now the nigh aymed ring away to beare;
At other times he casts to sew the chace
Of swift wilde beasts, or runne on foote a race,
T'enlarge his breath (large breath in armes most needfull)
Or els by wrestling to wex strong and heedfull,
Or his stiffe armes to stretch with Eughen bowe,
713 eare, /:': eare. Q
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. o_ 17
And manly legs, still passing too and fro,
Without a gowned beast him fast beside;
A vaine ensample of the Persian pride, 750
Who after he had wonne th'.dssyrian foe,
Did euer after scorne on foote to goe.
Thus when this Courtly Gentleman with toyle
Himselfe hath wearied, he doth recoyle
Vnto his rest, and there with sweete delight
Of Musicks skill reuiues his toyled spright,
Or ris with Loues, and Ladies gentle sports,
The ioy of youth, himselfe he recomforts:
Or lastly, when the bodie list to pause,
His minde vnto the Muses he withdrawes; 760
Sweete Ladie Muses, Ladies of delight,
Delights of lire, and ornaments of light :
With whom he close confers with wise discourse,
Of Natures workes, of heauens continuall course,
Of forreine lands, of people diff'erent,
Of kingdomes change, of diuers gouernment,
Of dreadfull battailes of renowmed Knights ;
With which he kindleth his ambitious sprights
To like desire and praise of noble fame,
The onely vpshot whereto he doth ayme: 770
For ail his minde on honour fixed is,
To which he leuels all his purposis,
And in his Princes seruice spends his dayes,
Not so much for to gaine, or for to raise
Himselfe to high degree, as for his grace,
And in his liking to winne worthie place;
Through due deserts and comely carriage,
In whatso please employ his personage,
That may be matter meete to gaine him praise;
For he is fit to vse in ail assayes, 780
Whether for Armes and warlike amenaunce,
Or else for wise and ciuill gouernaunce.
For he is practiz'd well in policie,
And thereto doth his Courting most applie:
To learne the enterdeale of Princes strange,
To marke th'intent of Counsells, and the chang
28 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Of states, and eke of priuate men somewhile,
Supplanted by fine falshood and faire guile;
Of ail the which he gathereth, what is fit
T'enrich the storehouse of his powerfull wit, 79»
Which through wise speaches, and graue conference
He daylie eekes, and brings to excellence.
Such is the rightfull Courtier in his kinde:
But vnto such the Ape lent hOt his minde;
Such were for him no fit companions,
Such would descrie his lewd conditions:
But the yong lustie gallants he did chose
To follow, meete to whom he might disclose
His witlesse pleasance, and iii pleasing vaine.
A thousand wayes he them could entertaine, 8oo
With ail the thriftles games, that may be found
With mumming and with masking all around,
With dice, with cards, with balliards farre vnfit,
With shuttelcocks, misseeming manlie wit,
With courtizans, and costly riotize,
Whereof still somewhat to his share did rize:
Ne, them to pleasure, would he sometimes scorne
A Pandares coate (so basely was he borne);
Thereto he could fine louing verses frame,
And play the Poet oft. But ah, for shame 8zo
Let hOt sweete Poets praise, whose onely pride
Is vertue to aduaunce, and vice deride,
Be with the worke of losels wit defamed,
Ne let such verses Poetrie be named:
Yet he the name on him would rashly take,
Maugre the sacred Muses, and it make
A seruant to the vile affection
Of such, as he depended most vpon,
And with the sugrie sweete thereof allure
Chast Ladies eares to fantasies impure. 8o
To such delights the noble wits he led
Which him relieu'd, and their vaine humours fed
With fruitles follies, and wasound delights.
But if perhaps into their noble sprights
Desire of honor» or braue thought of armes
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. OE9
Did euer creepe, then with his wicked charmes
And strong conceipts he would it driue away,
Ne surfer it to house there halfe a day.
And whenso loue of letters did inspire
Their gent_le wits, and kindly wise desire, 830
That chieflie doth each noble minde adorne,
Then he would scorfe at learning, and eke scorne
The Sectaries thereof, as people base
And simple men, which neuer came in place
Of worlds affaires, but in darke corners mewd,
Muttred of matters, as their bookes them shewd,
Ne other knowledge euer did attaine,
But with their gownes their grauitie maintaine.
From them he would his impudent lewde speach
Against Gods holie Ministers oft reach, 840
And mocke Diuines and their profession:
What else then did he by progression,
But mocke high God himselfe, whom they professe?
But what car'd he for God, or godlinesse ?
Ail his care was himselfe how to aduaunce,
And to vphold his courdy countenaunce
By ail the cunning meanes he could deuise ;
Were it by honest wayes, or otherwise,
He made small choyce: yet sure his honestie
Got him small gaines, but shameles flatterie, 850
And filthie brocage, and vnseemly shifts,
And borowe base, and some good Ladies girls:
But the best helpe, which chiefly him sustain'd,
Was his man Raynolds purchase which he gain'd.
For he was school'd by kinde in all the skill
Of close conueyance, and each practise ill
Of coosinage and cleanly knauerie,
Which oft maintain'd his masters brauerie.
Besides he vsde another slipprie slight,
In taking on himselfe in common sight, 860
False personages, fit for euerie sted,
With which he thousands cleanly coosined:
85 And borrowing baselie, and good Ladies gifts: G. MS.
86I personages F: personages Q
zoEo MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Now like a Merchant, Merchants to deceaue,
With whom his credite he did often leaue
In gage, for his gay Masters hopelesse dett:
Now like a Lawyer, when he land would lett,
Or sell fee-simples in his Masters name,
Which he had neuer, nor ought like the same:
Then would he be a Broker, and draw in
Both wares and money, by exchange to win: 870
Then would he seeme a Farmer, that would sell
Bargaines of woods, which he did latdy fell,
Or corne, or cattle, or such other ware,
Thereby to coosin men not well aware;
Of ail the which there came a secret fee
To th'Ape, that he his countenaunce might bee.
Besides ail this, he vsd' oft to beguile
Poore suters, that in Court did haunt some while:
For he would learne their busines secretly,
And then informe his Master hastdy, 880
That he by meanes might cast them to preuent,
And beg the sute, the which the other ment.
Or otherwise false Reynold would abuse
The simple Suter, and wish him to chuse
His Master, being one of great regard
In Court, to compas anie sute not hard,
In case his paines were recompenst with reason :
So would he worke the silly man by treasota
To buy his Masters friuolous good will,
That had not power to doo him good or ill. 890
So pitifull a thing is Suters state.
Most miserable man, whom wicked rate
Hath brought to Court, to sue for had ywist,
That few haue round, and manie one hath mist;
Full little knowest thou that hast not tride,
What hell it is, in suing long to bide:
To loose good dayes, that might be better spent;
To wast long nights in pensiue discontent;
To speed to day, to be put back to morrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow; 9oo
To haue thy Princes grace, yet want ber Peeres;
8 77 vs'd F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. zzt
To haue thy asking, yet waite manie yeeres;
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares;
To eate thy heart through comfordesse dispaires ;
To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to tonne,
To spend, to giue, to want, to be vndonne.
Vnhappie wight, borne to desastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend.
Who euer leaues sweete home, where meane estate
In safe assurance, without strife or hate, 9,o
Findes ail things needfull for contentment meeke;
And will to Court for shadowes vaine to seeke,
Or hope to gaine, himselfe will a daw trie:
That curse God send vnto mine enemie.
For none but such as this bold Ape vnblest,
Can euer thriue in that vnluckie quest ;
Or such as hath a Reynold to his man,
That by his shifts his Master furnish can.
But yet this Foxe could hot so closdy hide
His craftie feates, but that they were descride 9,o
At length, by such as sate in Justice seate,
Who for the same him fowlie did entreate;
And hauing worthily him punished,
Out of the Court for euer banished.
And now the Ape wanting his huckster man,
That wont prouide his necessaries, gan
To growe into great lacke, ne could vpholde
His countenaunce in those his garments olde:
Ne new ones could he easily prouide,
Though all men him vncased gan deride, 93 °
Like as a Puppit placed in a play,
Whose part once past ail men bid take away:
So that he driuen was to great distresse,
And shortly brought to hopelesse wretchednesse.
Then closely as he might, he cast to leaue
The Court, not asking any passe or leaue;
But ran away in his rent rags by night,
Ne euer stayd in place, ne spake to wight,
9 t 3 a daw will try F: one day will cry G.
935 might, F: might Q
OEoEoE MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Till that the Foxe his copesmate he had found,
To whome complayning his w,happy stound, 940
At last againe with him in trauell ioynd,
And with him far'd some better chaunce to fynde.
So in the world long rime they wandered,
And miclde want and hardnesse suff'ered ;
That them repented much so foolishly
To come so farre to seeke for misery,
And leaue the sweetnes of contented home,
Though eating hipps, and drinking watry fome.
Thus as they them complayned too and fro,
Whilst through the forest rechlesse they did goe, 9o
Lo where they spide, how in a gloomy glade,
The Lyon sleeping lay in secret shade,
His Crowne and Scepter lying him beside,
And hauing doft for heate his dreadfull bide:
Which when they sawe, the Ape was sore afrayde,
And would haue fled with terror ail dismayde.
But him the Foxe with hardy words did stay,
And bad him put ail cowardize away:
For now was rime (if euer they would hope)
To ayme their counsels to the fairest scope, 960
And them for euer highly to aduaunce,
In case the good which their owne happie chaunce
Them freely offred, they would wisely take.
Scarse could the Ape yet speake, so did he quake,
Yet as he could, he askt how good might growe,
Nhere nought but dread and death do seeme in show.
Now (sayd he) whiles the Lyon sleepeth sound,
May we his Crowne and Mace take from the ground,
And eke his skinne the terror of the wood,
Wherewith we may our selues (if we thinke good) 970
Make Kings of Beasts, and Lords of forests all,
Subiect vnto that powre imperiall.
Ah but (sayd the Ape) who is so bold a wretch,
That dare his hardy hand to those outstretch:
When as he knowes his meede, if he be spide,
To be a thousand deathes, and shame beside ?
969 skinne Q: skinne, F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Fond Ape (sayd then the Foxe) into whose brest
Neuer crept thought of honor, nor braue gest,
Who will not venture life a King to be,
And rather rule and raigne in soueraign see, 980
Than dwell in dust inglorious and bace,
Where none shall naine the number of his place?
One ioyous houre in blisfull happines,
I chose before a life of wretchednes.
Be therefore counselled herein by me,
And shake off" this vile harted cowardree.
If he awake, yet is hot death the next,
For we may coulor it with some pretext
Of this, or that, that may excuse the cryme:
Else we may flye; thou to a tree mayst clyme, 99 °
And I creepe vnder ground; both from his reach:
Therefore be rul'd to doo as I doo teach.
The Ape, that earst did nought but chill and quake,
Now gan some courage vnto him to take,
And was content to attempt that enterprise,
Tickled with glorie and rash couetise.
But first gan question, whether should assay
Those royall ornaments to steale away ?
Marie that shall your selfe (quoth he theretoo)
For ye be fine and nimble it to doo; iooo
Of all the beasts which in the forrests bee,
Is hot a titrer for this turne than yee:
Therefore, mine owne deare brother take good hart,
And euer thinke a Kingdome is your part.
Loath was the Ape, though praised, to aduertter,
Yet faintly gan into his worke to enter,
Afraid of euerie leafe, that stir'd him by,
And euerie stick, that vnderneath did ly;
Vpon his tiptoes nicely he vp went,
For making rtoyse, and still his eare he lent iOlO
To. euerie sound, that vnder heauen blew,
Now went, now stept, now crept, now backward drew,
980 soveraign see Q, F: soveraigntee G. MS.
G. MS. 997 whether F: whither Q
984 chose Q: chuse
OEoE4 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
That it good sport had been him to haue eyde:
Yet at the last (so well he him applyde,)
Through his fine handling, and deanly play,
He ail those royall signes had stolne away,
And with the Foxes helpe them borne aside,
Into a secret corner vnespide.
Whither whenas they came, they fell at words,
Whether of them should be the Lord of Lords: xozo
For th'Ape was stryfull, and ambicious;
And the Foxe guilefull, and most couetous,
That neither pleased was, to haue the rayne
Twixt them diuided into euen twaine,
But either (algates) would be Lords alone:
For Loue and Lordship bide no paragone.
I am most worthie (said the Ape) sith I
For it did put my lire in ieopardie:
Thereto I am in person, and in stature
Most like a man, the Lord of euerie creature, xo3o
So that it seemeth I was made to raigne,
And borne to be a Kingly soueraigne.
Nay (said the Foxe) Sir Ape you are astray:
For though to steale the Diademe away
Were the worke of your nimble hand, yet I
Did first deuise the plot by pollicie;
So that it wholly springeth from my wit:
For which also I claime my selle more fit
Than you, to rule: for gouernment of state
Will without wisedome soone be ruinate, xo4o
And where ye claime your selfe for outward shape
Most like a man, Man is not like an Ape
In his chiefe parts, that is, in wit and spirite:
But I therein most like to him doo merite
For my slie wyles and subtill craftinesse,
The title of the Kingdome to possesse.
Nath'les (my brother) since we passed are
Vnto this point, we will appease our iarre,
And I with reason meete will rest content,
That ye shall haue both crowne and gouernment,
o9 Whither F: ,Vhether Q
striueful G. MS.
o5o
xox stryfull Q, F: stryfful Harl. MS.:
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. oE5
Vpon condition, that ye ruled bee
In all affaires, and counselled by mee;
And that ye let none other euer drawe
Your minde from me, but keepe this as a lawe:
And herevpon an oath vnto me plight.
The Ape was glad to end the strife so light,
And thereto swore: for who would hot oft sweare,
And oft wlsweare, a Diademe to beare ?
Then freely vp those royaLl spoyles he tooke,
Yet at the Lyons skin he inly quooke; xo6o
But it dissembled, and vpon his head
The Crowne, and on his backe the skin he did,
And the false Foxe him helped to array.
Then when he was all dight he tooke his way
Into the forest, that he might be seene
Of the wilde beasts in his new glory sheene.
There the two first, whome he encountred, were
The Sheepe and th'Asse, who striken both with feare
At sight of him, gan fast away to flye,
But vnto them the Foxe alowd did cry, o7o
And in the Kings name bad them both to stay,
Vpon the payne that thereof follow may.
Hardly naythles were they restrayned so,
Till that the Foxe forth toward them did goe,
And there disswaded them from needlesse feare,
For that the King did fauour to them beare ;
And therefore dreadles bad them corne to Cotte:
For no wild beasts should do them any torte
There or abroad, ne would his maiestye
Vse them but weLl, with gracious clemencye, ,080
As whome he knew to him both fast and true;
So he perswaded them, with homage due
Themsdues to humble to the Ape prostrate,
Who gently to them bowing in his gate,
Receyued them with chearefull entertayne.
Thenceforth proceeding with his princely trayne,
He shorfly met the Tygre, and the Bore,
1o58 vnsweare, F: vnsweare Q
OEOE6 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Which with the simple Camell raged sore
In bitter words, seeking to take occasion,
Vpon his fleshly corpse to make inuasion : o9o
But soone as they this mock-King did espy,
Their troublous strife they stinted by and by,
Thinking indeed that it the Lyon was:
He then to proue, whether his powre would pas
As currant, sent the Foxe to them streight way,
Commaunding them their cause of strife bewray;
And if that wrong on eyther side there were,
That he should warne the wronger to appeare
The morrow next at Court, it to defend;
In the meane time vpon the King t'attend, ioo
The subtile Foxe so well his message sayd,
That the proud beasts him readily obayd:
Whereby the Ape in wondrous stomack woxe,
Strongly encorag'd by the crafty Foxe;
That King indeed himselfe he shortly thought,
And all the Beasts him feared as they ought:
And followed vnto his palaice hye,
Where taking Conge, each one by and by
Departed to his home in dreadfull awe,
Full of the feared sight, which late they sawe. o
The Ape thus seized of the Regall throne,
Eftsones by counsell of the Foxe alone,
Gan to prouide for ail things in assurance,
That so his rule might lenger haue endurance.
First to his Gate he pointed a strong gard,
That none might enter but with issue hard:
Then for the safegard of his personage,
He did appoint a warlike equipage
Of forreine beasts, not in the forest bred,
But part by land, and part by water fed;
For tyrannie is with strange ayde supported.
Then vnto him all monstrous beasts resorted
Bred of two kindes, as Griffons, Minotaures,
Crocodiles, I)ragons, Beauers, and Centaures:
x 08 Conge F: Couge Q
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. 2.2 7
With those himselfe he strengthned mightelie,
That feare he neede no force of enemie.
Then gan he rule and tyrannize at will,
Like as the Foxe did guide his graceles skill,
And all wylde beasts made vassals of his pleasures,
And with their spoyles enlarg'd his priuate treasures, x i3o
No care of iustice, nor no rule of reason,
No temperance, nor no regard of season
Did thenceforth euer enter in his minde,
But crueltie, the signe of currish kinde,
And sdeignfull pride, alxd wilfull arrogaunce;
Such followes those whom fortune doth aduaunce.
But the false Foxe most kindly plaid his part:
For whatsoeuer mother wit, or arte
Could worke, he put in proofe: no practise slie,
No counterpoint of cunning policie, x
No reach, no breach, that might him profit bring,
But he the same did to his purpose wring.
Nought suffered he the Ape to giue or graunt,
But through his hand must passe the Fiaunt.
Ail offices, all leases by him lept,
And of them ail whatso he likte, he kept.
Iustice he solde injustice for to buy,
And for to purchase for his progexy.
III might it prosper, that iii gotten was,
But so he got it, little did he pas. IIO
He fed his cubs with fat of all the soyle,
And with the sweete of others sweating toyle,
He crammed them with crumbs of Benefices,
And fild their mouthes with meeds of malefices,
He cloathed them with all colours saue white,
And loded them with lordships and with might,
So much as they were able well to beare,
That wlth the weight their backs nigh broken were;
He chaffred Chayres in which Churchmen were set,
And breach of lawes to priuie ferme did let; 6o
No statute so established might bee,
Nor ordinaunce so needfull, but that hee
OEoE8 MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Would violate, though not with violence,
Yet vnder colour of the confidence
The which the Ape reposd' in him aione,
And reckned him the kingdomes corner stone.
And euer when he ought would bring to pas,
His long experience the platforme was:
And when he ought hOt pleasing would put by,
The cloke was care of thrift, and husbandry,
For to encrease the common treasures store ;
But his owne treasure he encreased more
And lifted vp his loftie towres thereby,
That they began to threat the neighbour sky;
The whiles the Princes pallaces fell fast
To ruine: (for what thing can euer last ?)
And whilest the other Peeres for pouertie
Were forst their auncient houses to let lie,
And their olde Castles to the ground to fall,
Which their forefathers famous ouer ail 8o
Had founded for the Kingdomes ornament,
And for their memories long moniment.
But he no count made of Nobilitie,
Nor the wilde beasts whom armes did glorifie,
The Realmes chiefe strength and girlond of the crowne,
Ail these through fained crimes he thrust adowne,
Or made them dwell in darknes of disgrace:
For none, but whom he list might come in place.
Of men of armes he had but small regard,
But kept them lowe, and streigned verie hard.
For men of learning little he esteemed;
His wisedome he aboue their learning deemed.
As for the rascall Commons least he cared ;
For not so common was his bountie shared;
Let God (said he) if please, care for the manie,
I for my selfe must care before els anie."
So did he good to none, to manie iii,
So did he ai1 the kingdome rob and pill,
x 16 5 repos'd F
I 8o (famous ouer ail)
I 77 Peeres F: Peeres, Q
I 190 streigned Q : streighmed F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. oE9
Yet none durst speake, ne none durst of him plaine;
So great he was in grace, and rich through gaine. 2oo
Ne would he anie let to haue accesse
Vnto the Prince, but by his owne addresse :
For ail that els did come, were sure to faile,
Yet would he further none but for auaile.
For on a time the Sheepe, to whom of yore
The Foxe had promised of friendship store,
What rime the Ape the kingdome first did gaine,
Came to the Court, ber case there to complaine,
How that the Wolfe ber mortall enemie
Had sithence slaine ber Lambe most cruellie; .-o
And therefore crau'd to corne vnto the King,
To let him knowe the order of the thing.
Soft Gooddie Sheepe (then said the Foxe) not soe:
Vnto the King so rash ye may hOt goe,
He is with greater matter busied,
Than a Lambe, or the Lambes owne mothers hed.
Ne certes may I take it well in part,
That ye my cousin Wolfe so fowly thwart,
And seeke with slaunder his good name to blot:
For there was cause, els doo it he would not. ,2o
Therefore surcease good Dame, and hence depart.
So went the Sheepe away with heauie hart.
So manie moe, so euerie one was vsed,
That to giue largely to the boxe refused.
Now when high [oue, in whose almightie hand
The care of Kings, and power of Empires stand,
Sitting one day within his turret hye,
From whence he vewes with his blacklidded eye,
Whatso the heauen in his wide vawte containes,
And all that in the deepest earth remaines,
The troubled kingdome of wilde beasts behelde,
Whom hOt their kindly Souereigne did welde,
But an vsurping Ape with guile suborn'd,
Had all subuerst, he sdeignfully it scorn'd
zo4 auaile Q, F: a vaile G. MS. rz 4 boxe Q, F, Harl. MS,
foxe G. MS. zz 9 vawte Q, F: cope G. MS. z3 The conj.
,I. C. Smith : And Q, F
OE3o
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
In his great heart, and hardly did refraine,
But that with thunder bolts he had him slaine,
And driuen downe to hell, his dewest meed:
But him auizing, he that dreadfull deed
Forbore, and rather chose with scornfull shame
Him to auenge, and blot his brutish name 1240
Vnto the world, that neuer after anie
Should of his race be voyd of infamie:
And his false counsellor, the cause of ail,
To damne to death, or dole perpetuai1,
From whence he neuer should be quit, nor stal'd.
Forthwith he Mercurie vnto him cal'd,
And bad him flie with neuer resting speed
Vnto the forrest, where wilde beasts doo breed,
And there enquiring priuily, to learne,
What did of late chaunce to the Lyon stearne, ,250
That he rul'd hot the Empire, as he ought;
And whence were ail those plaints vnto him brought
Of wrongs and spoyles, by saluage beasts committed;
Which done, he bad the Lyon be remitted
Into his seate, and those same treachours vile
Be punished for their presumptuous guile.
The Sonne of Maia soone as he receiu'd
That word, streight with his azure wings he cleau'd
The liquid clowdes, and lucid firmament;
Ne staid, till that he came with steep descent 126o
Vnto the place, where his prescript did showe.
There stouping like an arrowe from a bowe,
He sort arriued on the grassie plaine,
And fairly paced forth with easie paine,
Till that wato the Pallace nigh he came.
Then gan he to himselfe new shape to frame,
-And that faire face, and that Ambrosiall hew,
Which wonts to decke the Gods immortall crew,
And beautefie the shinie firmament,
He doft, vnfit for that rude rabblement. 127o
So standing by the gates in strange disguize,
He gan enquire of some in secret wize,
,245-6 stal'd . . . cal'd Q: stall'd . . . call'd/v
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. z31
Both of the King, and of his gouernment,
And of the Foxe, and his false blandishment:
And euermore he heard each one complaine
Of foule abuses both in realme and raine.
Which yet to proue more true, he meant to see,
And an ey-witnes of each thing to bee.
Tho on his head his dreadfull hat he dight,
Which maketh him inuisible in sight, I80
And mocketh th'eyes of ail the lookers on,
Making them thinke it but a vision.
Through power ofthat, he runnes through enemies swerds ;
Through power of that, he passeth through the herds
Of rauenous wilde beasts, and doth beguile
Their greedie mouthes of the expected spoyle;
Through power of that, his cunning theeueries
He wonts to worke, that none the saine espies;
And through the power of that, he putteth on
What shape he list in apparition. 29o
That on his head he wore, and in his hand
He tooke Caduceus his snakie wand,
With which the damned ghosts he gouerneth,
And furies rules, and Tartare tempereth.
With that he causeth sleep to seize the eyes,
And feare the harts of all his enemyes;
And when him list, an wfiuersall night
Throughout the world he makes on euerie wight ;
As when his Syre with Alcumena lay.
Thus dight, into the Court he tooke his way, 3oo
Both through the gard, which neuer did descride,
And through the watchmen, who him neuer spide:
Thenceforth he past into each secrete part,
Whereas he saw, that sorely grieu'd his hart,
Each place abounding with fowle injuries,
And fild with treasure rackt with robberies:
Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts,
Which had been slaine, to serue the Apes beheasts ;
I289 on] on, Q, F x3o 3 Thenceforth Q: Thence, forth F
So4 saw,.., ha,t]saw,.., hart;Q: sawe(.., hart) F
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
Gluttonie, malice, pride, and couetize,
And lawlesnes raigning with riotize ; 3xo
Besides the infinite extortions,
Done through the Foxes great oppressions,
That the complaints thereof could hOt be tolde.
Which when he did with lothfull eyes beholde,
He would no more endure, but came his way,
And cast to seeke the Lion, where he may,
That he might worke the auengement for this shame,
On those two caytiues, which had bred him blame.
And seeking ail the forrest busily,
At last he found, where sleeping he did ly." 32o
The wicked weed, which there the Foxe did lay,
From vnderneath his head he tooke away,
And then him waking, forced vp to rize.
The Lion looking vp gan him auize,
As one late in a traunce, what had of long
Become of him: for fantasie is strong.
Arise (said Mercurie) thou sluggish beast,
That here liest senseles, like the corpse deceast,
The whilste thy kingdome from thy head is rent,
And thy throne royall with dishonour blent: x33o
Arise, and doo thy selfe redeeme from shame,
And be aueng'd on those that breed thy blame.
Thereat enraged, soone he gan vpstart,
Grinding his teeth, and grating his great hart,
And rouzing vp himselfe, for his rough bide
He gan to reach; but no where it espide.
Therewith he gan full terribly to rore,
And chafte at that indignitie rlght sore.
But when his Crowne and scepter both he wanted,
Lord how he fum'd, and sweld, and rag'd, and panted;
And threatned death, and thousand deadly dolours 34x
To them that had purloyn'd his Princely honours.
With that in hast, disroabed as he was,
He toward his owne Pallace forth did pas;
And all the way he roared as he went,
That all the forrest with astonishment
13 16 may Q, F: laie G. MS.
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE. 233
Thereof did tremble, and the beasts therein
Fled fast away from that so dreadfull din.
At last he came vnto his mansion,
Where all the gates he found fast lockt anon, 135o
And manie warders round about them stood:
With that he roar'd alowd, as he were wood,
That all the Pallace quaked at the stound,
As if it quite were riuen from the ground,
And all within were dead and hartles left;
And th'Ape himselfe, as one whose wits were reft,
Fled here and there, and euerie corner sought,
To hide himselfe from his owne feared thought.
But the false Foxe when he the Lion heard,
Fled dosely forth, streightway of death afeard, 136o
And to the Lion came, full lowly creeping,
With fained face, and watrie eyne halfe weeping,
T'excuse his former treason and abusion,
And turning all vnto the Apes confusion:
Nath'les the royall Beast forbore beleeuing,
But bad him stay at ease till further preeuing.
Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted,
Roaring yet lowder that all harts it daunted,
Vpon those gates with force he fiercely flewe,
And rending them in pieces, felly slewe I3î O
Those warders strange, and all that els he met.
But th'Ape still flying, he no where might get:
From rowme to rowme, from beame to beame he fled
All breathles, and for feare now almost ded:
Yet him at last the Lyon spide, and caught,
And forth with shame vnto his iudgement brought.
Then all the beasts he causd' assembled bee,
To heare their doome, and sad ensample see:
The Foxe, first Author of that treacherie,
He did vncase, and then away let flie. 38o
But th'Apes long talle (which then he had) he quight
Cut off, and both eares pared of their hight;
Since which, ail Apes but halle their eares haue left,
And of their tailes are vtterlie bereft.
I363 abusion, F: abusion. Q i377 causd' Q: caus'd F
OE34
MOTHER HVBBERDS TALE.
So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end:
Which pardon me, if I amisse haue pend;
For weake was my remembrance it to hold,
And bad her tongue that it so bluntly tolde.
FIN1S.
x386 pend; F: pend, Q
ines of me: .y Be//a.y.
I
y E heauenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie
Vnder deep ruines, with huge walls opprest,
But not your praise, the which shall neuer die
Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest;
If so be shrilling voyce of wight aliue
May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell,
Then let those deep Abysses open riue,
That ye may vnderstand my shreiking yell.
Thrice hauing seene vnder the heauens veale
Your toombs deuoted compasse ouer ail,
Thrice vnto you with lowd voyce I appeale,
And for your antique furie here doo call,
The whiles that I with sacred horror sing
Your glorie, fairest of ail earthly thing.
1o
Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise,
And sharped steeples high shot vp in ayre;
Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings blaze;
And Nylus nurslings their Pyramides faire;
The rame yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie
Of loues great Image in Olympus placed,
Mausolus worke will be the Carians glorie,
And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced;
The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth
The great Colosse, erect to Memorie;
And what els in the world is of like worth,
Some greater learned wit will magnifie.
But I will sing aboue ail moniments
Seuen Romane Hils, the worlds 7- wonderments.
z x Mausolus F: Mansolus Q. glorie. Q, F
2o
OE3 6 RVINES OF ROME.
3
Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome here seekest,
And nought of Rome in Rome perceiu'st at ail, 3o
These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest,
Olde Palaces, is that which Rome men call.
Behold what wreake, what ruine, and what wast,
And how that she, which with her mightie powre
Tam'd all the world, hath tam'd herselfe at last,
The pray of rime, which all things doth deuowre.
Rome now of Rome is th'onely funera11,
And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie ;
Ne ought saue Tyber hastning to his fall
Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie. 40
That which is firme doth flit and fall away,
And that is flitting, doth abide and stay.
4
She, whose high top aboue the starres did sore,
One foote on Uhetis, th'other on the Morning,
One hand on Scythia, th'other on the More,
Both heauen and earth in roundnesse compassing,
Ioue fearing, least if she should greater growe,
The old Giants should once againe vprise,
Her whelm'd with hills, these 7- hils, which be nowe
Tombes of her greatnes, which did threate the skies: 5o
Vpon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal,
Vpon her bellie th'antique Palatine,
Vpon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal,
On her left hand the noysome Esquiline,
And CMian on the right; but both her feete
Mount lqminall and Aventine doo meete.
3 a Palaces, is that] Palaces is that, Q : Palaces, is that, F
old Giants ftutt Q: Th'old Giants Q : The Giants old F
l-Iuth Q, F: Vim.al Q.
48 The
56 I rimlnall
RVINES OF ROME. OE37
Who lists to see, what euer nature, arte,
And heauen could doo, O Rome, thee let him see,
In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte,
By that which but the picture is of thee. 60
Rome is no more: but if the shade of Rome
May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight,
It's like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe
By Magicke ski11 out of eternall night:
The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed,
And her great spirite reioyned to the spirite
Of this great masse, is in the saine enwombed;
But her braue writings, which her famous merite
In spight of rime, out of the dust doth reare,
Doo make her Idole through the world appeare. o
6
Such as the Berecyntoeian Goddesse bright
In her swift charret with high turrets crownde,
Proud that so manie Gods she brought to light;
Such was this Citie in her good daies fownd:
This Citie, more than that great Poerygian mother
Renowm'd for fruite of famous progenie,
Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other,
But by ber selfe ber equall match could see:
Rome onely might to Rome compared bee,
And onely Rorae could make great Rorae to tremble: 80
So did the Gods by heauenly doome decree,
That other earthlle power should hOt resemble
Her that did match the whole earths puissaunce,
And did ber courage to the heauens aduaunce.
76 Renowm'd {: Renownd F 77 greatnes Q: greatnes, F
OE3 8 RV1NES OF ROME.
7
Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights,
Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine,
Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights
The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine:
Triumphant Arcks, spyres neighbours to the skie,
That you to see doth th'heauen it selfe appall, 90
Alas, by little ye to nothing file,
The peoples fable, and the spoyle of ail:
And though your frames do for a time make warre
Gainst time, yet time in time shall ruinate
Your workes and names, and your last reliques marre.
My sad desires, rest therefore moderate."
For if that time make ende of things so sure,
It als will end the paine, which I endure.
8
Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu'd,
That one would weene, that one sole Cities strength oo
Both land and sea in roundnes had suruew'd,
To be the measure of her bredth and length:
This peoples vertue yet so fruitfuil was
Of vertuous nephewes, that posteritie
Striuing in power their grandfathers to passe,
The lowest earth ioin'd to the heauen hie;
To th'end that hauing ail parts in their power,
Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight,
And that though time doth Commonwealths deuowre,
Yet no time should so low embase their hight, o
That her head earth'd in her foundations deep,
Should not her name and endles honour keep.
t 06 earth F: earth, Q t foundations Q : foundatio F
RVINES OF ROME. OE39
9
Ye cruell starres, and eke ye Gods vnkinde,
Heauen enuious, and bitter stepdame Nature,
Be it by fortune, or by course of kinde
That ye doo weld th'affaires of earthlie creature;
Why haue your hands long sithence traueiled
To frame this world, that doth exadure so long ?
Or why were not these Romane palaces
Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong? i2o
I say not, as the common voyce doth say,
That all things which beneath the Moone haue being
Are temporall, and subiect to decay:
But I say rather, though hOt all agreeing
With some, that weene the contrarie in thought ;
That all this whole shall one day corne to nought.
IO
As that braue sonne of/leson, which by charmes
Atcheiu'd the golden Fleece in Colchid land,
Out of the earth engendred men of armes
Of Dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand; 3o
So this braue Towne, that in her youthlie daies
An Hydra was of warriours glorious,
Did fill with her renowmed nourslings praise
The firie sunnes both one and other hous."
But they at last, there being thert hOt liuing
Axa Hercules, so ranke seed to represse;
Emongst themselues with cruell furie striuing,
Mow'd downe themselues with slaughter mercilesse ;
Renewing in themselues that rage vnkinde, I39
Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde.
OE4o RVINES OF ROME.
II
Mars shaming to haue giuen so great head
To his off-spring, that mortall puissaunce
Puft vp with pride of Romane hardie head,
Seem'd aboue heauens powre it selle to aduaunce ;
Cooling againe his former kindled heate,
With which he had those Romane spirits fild;
Did blowe new tire, and with enflamed breath,
Into the Gothicke colde hot rage instil'd:
Then gan that Nation, th'earths new Giant brood,
To dart abroad the thunder bolts of warre, 15o
And beating downe these walls with furious mood
lnto ber mothers bosome, ail did marre;
To th'end that none, ail were it loue his sire
Should boast himselfe of the Romane Epire.
I2
Like as whilome the children of the earth
Heapt hils on hils, to scale the starrie skie,
And fight against the Gods of heauenly berth,
Whiles Ioue at them his thunderbolts let file;
A_ll suddenly with lightning ouerthrowne,
The furious squadrons downe to ground did fail,
That th'earth vnder her childrens weight did grone,
And th'heauens in glorie triumpht ouer ail:
So did that haughtie front which heaped was
On these seuen Romane hils, it selle vpreare
Ouer the world, and lift her loftie face
Against the heauen, that gan her force to feare.
But now these scorned fields bemone her rail,
And Gods secure feare not ber force at all.
i45-6 heate; . . . fild, Q, F x49 Giant Q: Giants F
i6o
RVINES OF ROME. 7.41
13
Nor the swift furie of the flames aspiring,
Nor the deep wounds of victours raging blade, 7o
Nor ruthlesse spoyle of souldiers blood-desiring,
The which so oft thee (Rome) their conquest made;
Ne stroke on stroke of fortune variable,
Ne rust of age hating continuance,
Nor wrath of Gods, nor spight of men vnstable,
Nor thou opposd' against thine owne puissance;
Nor th'horrible vprore of windes high blowing,
Nor swelling streames of that God snakie-paced,
Which bath so often with his overflowing
Thee drenched, haue thy pride so much abaced; xSo
But that this nothing, which they haue thee left,
Nlakes the world wonder, what they from thee reft.
14
As men in Summer fearles passe the foord,
Which is in Winter lord of all the plaine,
And with his tumbling streames doth beare aboord
The ploughmans hope, and shepheards labour vaine:
And as the coward beasts vse to despise
The noble Lion after his liues end,
Whetting their teeth, and with vaine foolhardise
Daring the foe, that cannot him defend:
And as at Troy most dastards of the Greekes
Did braue about the corpes of Hector colde;
So those which whilome wont with pallid cheekes
The Romane triumphs glorie to behold,
Now on these ashie tombes shew boldnesse vaine,
And conquer'd date the Conquerour disdaine.
I90
176 opposd F
R
24z RVINES OF ROME.
I5
Ye pallid spirits, and ye ashie ghoasts,
Which ioying in the brightnes of your day,
Brought foorth those signes of your presumptuous boasts
Which now their dusty reliques do bewray; 200
Tell me ye spirits (sith the darksome riuer
Of Styx, not passable to soules returning,
Enclosing you in thrice three wards for euer,
Doo hot restraine your images still mourning)
Tell me then (for perhaps some one of you
Yet here aboue him secretly doth hide)
Doo ye not feele your torments to accrewe,
When ye sometimes behold the ruin'd pride
Of these old Romane works built with your hands,
Now to become nought els, but heaped sands?
16
Like as ye see the wrathfull Sea from farre,
In a great mountaine heap't with hideous noyse,
Eftsoones of thousand billowes shouldred narre,
Against a Rocke to breake with dreadfull poyse:
Like as ye see fell Boreas with sharpe blast,
Tossing huge tempests through the troubled skie,
Eftsoones hauing his wide wings spent in wast,
To stop his wearie cariere suddenly:
And as ye see huge flames spred diuerslie,
Gathered in one vp to the heauens to spyre,
Eftsoones consum'd to fall downe feebily:
So whilom did this Monarchie aspyre
As waues, as winde, as tire spred ouer ail,
Till it by fatall doome adowne did fall.
z I o Now to become F: To become Q
220
RVINES OF ROME. a43
I7
So long as loues great Bird did make his flight,
Bearing the tire with which heauen doth vs fray,
Heauen had hOt feare of that presumptuous might,
With which the Giaunts did the Gods assay.
But all so soone, as scortching Sunne had brent
His wings, which wont the earth to ouerspredd, 230
The earth out of her massie wombe forth sent
That antique horror, which marie heauen adredd.
Then was the Germane Rauen in disguise
That Romane Eagle seene to cleaue asunder,
And towards heauen freshly to arise
Out of these mountaines, now consum'd to pouder.
In which the foule that serues to beare the lightning,
Is now no more seen flying, nor alighting.
18
These heapes of stones, these old wals which ye see,
Vere first enclosures but of saluage soyle; 240
And these braue Pallaces which maystred bee
Of time, were shepheards cottages somewhile.
Then tooke the shepheards Kingly ornaments
And the stout hynde arm'd his right hand with steele:
Eftsoones their rule of yearely Presidents
Grew great, and sixe months greater a great deele;
Which made perpetuall, rose to so great might,
That thence th'lmperiall Eagle footing tooke,
Till th'heauen it selfe opposing gainst her might,
Her power to Peters successor betooke; 250
¥ho shepheardlike, (as rates the saine foreseeing)
Doth shew, that all things turne to their first being.
243 ornaments] ornament Q, F
R2
244 RVINES OF ROME.
I9
Ail that is perfect, which th'heauen beautefies;
Ail that's imperfect, borne belowe the Moone;
Ail that doth feede our spirits and our eies;
And al! that doth consume our pleasures soone;
Ail the mishap, the which our daies outweares,
All the good hap of th'oldest times afore,
Rome in the time of her great ancesters,
Like a Pandora, locked long in store.
But destinie this huge Chaos turmoyling,
In which all good and euill was enclosed,
Their heauenly vertues from these woes assoyling,
Caried to heauen, from sinfull bondage losed:
But their great sinnes, the causers of their paine,
Vnder these antique ruines yet remaine.
2O
No otherwise than raynle cloud, first fed
With earthly vapours gathered in the ayre,
Eftsoones in compas arch't, to steepe his hed,
Doth plonge himselfe in çethys bosome faire; 2;0
And mounting vp againe, from whence he came,
With his great bellie spreds the dimmed world,
Till at the last dissoluing his moist frame,
In faine, or snowe, or haile he forth is horld;
This Citie, which was first but shepheards shade,
Vprising by degrees, grewe to such height,
That Qeene of land and sea her selle she made.
At last not able to beare so great weight,
Her power disperst, through ail the world did vade;
To shew that all in th'end to nought shall fade. 280
270 Tety: Q: Tety: F
RVINES OF ROME. OE4S
2I
The same which Pyrrhus, and the puissaunce
Of Afrike could hOt tame, that same braue Citie,
Which with stout courage arm'd against mischaunce,
Sustein'd the shocke of common enmitie;
Long as her ship tost with so manie freakes,
Had ail the world in armes against her bent,
Was neuer seene, that anie fortunes wreakes
Could breake ber course begun with braue intent.
But when the obiect of her vertue failed,
Her power it selle against it selfe did arme;
As he that hauing long in tempest sailed,
Faine would ariue, but cannot for the storme,
If too great winde against the port him driue,
Doth in the port it selle his vessell riue.
290
When that braue honour of the Latine name,
Which mear'd her rule with z¢frica, and Byze,
With 'l'hames inhabitants of noble lame,
And they which see the dawning day arize;
Her nourslings did with mutinous vprore
Harten against her selfe, her conquer'd spoile,
Which she had wonne from all the world afore,
Of ail the world was spoyl'd within a while.
So when the compast course of the vniuerse
In sixe and thirtie thousand yeares is ronne,
The bands of th'elements shall backe reuerse
To their first discord, and be quite vndonne:
The seedes, of which ail things at first were bred,
Shall in great Chaos wombe againe be hid.
300
46 RVINES OF ROME.
23
0 warie wisedome of the man» that would
That Carthage towres from spoile should be forborne,
To th'end that his victorious people should 3ii
With cancring laisure not be ouerworne;
He well foresaw» how that the Romane courage»
Impatient of pleasures faint desires,
Through idlenes would turne to ciuill rage»
And be her selfe the matter of her rires.
For in a people giuen ail to ease»
Ambition is engendred easily;
As in a vicious bodie, grose disease
Soone growes through humours superfluitie, a2o
That came to passe» when swolne with plenties pride»
Nor prince, nor peere, nor kin they would abide.
24
If the blinde furie, which warres breedeth oft,
Wonts hOt t'enrage the hearts of equall beasts,
Whether they rare on foote» or flie aloft»
Or armed be with clawes, or scalie creasts ;
What fell Er),nnis with hot burning tongs»
Did grype your hearts» with noysome rage imbew'd»
That each to other working cruell wrongs,
Your blades in your owne bowels you embrew'd ?
Was this (ye Romanes) your hard destinie ?
Or some old sinne, whose vnappeased guilt
Powr'd vengeance forth on you eternallie ?
Or brothers blood, the which at rirst was spilt
Vpon your walls, that God might hOt endure»
Vpon the same to set foundation sure ?
33 °
RVINES OF ROME. z47
0. 5
O that I had the 'hracian Poets harpe,
For to awake out of th'infernall shade
Those antique Cesars, sleeping long in darke,
The which this auncient Citie whilome made: 340
Or that I had/lmphions instrument,
To quicken with his vitall notes accord,
The stonie ioynts of these old walls now rent,
By which th'/lusonian light might be restor'd:
Or that at least I could with pencill fine,
Fashion the pourtraicts of these Palacis,
By paterne of great l/'irgils spirit diuine;
I would assay with that which in me is,
To builde with leuell of my loftie style,
That which no hands can euermore compyle.
26
Who list the Romane greatnes forth to figure,
Him needeth not to seeke for vsage right
Of line, or lead, or rule, or squaire, to measure
Her length, her breadth, her deepnes, or her hight :
But him behooues to vew in compasse round
Ail that the Ocean graspes in his long armes ;
Be it where the yerely starre doth scortch the ground,
Or where colde Boreas blowes his bitter stormes.
Rome was th'whole world, and al the world was Rome,
And if things nam'd their names doo equalize, 360
When land and sea ye name, then name ye Rome;
And naming Rome ye land and sea comprize:
For th'auncient Plot of Rome displayed plaine,
The map of ail the wide world doth containe.
354 hight: F: hight, Q 36z Rome Q: Rorne, F
248 RVINEs OF ROME.
7
Thou that at Rome astonisht dost behold
The antique pride, which menaced the skie,
These haughtie heapes, these palaces of olde,
These wais, these arcks, these baths, these temples hie;
Iudge by these ample ruines vew, the rest
The which iniurious time hath quite outworne, 370
Since of ail workmen helde in reckning best,
Yet these olde fragments are for paternes borne:
Then also marke, how Rome from day to day,
Repayring her decayed fashion,
Renewes herselfe with buildings rich and gay;
That one would iudge, that the Romaine D,emon
Doth yet himselfe with fatall hand enforce,
Againe on foote to reare her pouldred corse.
8
He that hath seene a great Oke drie and dead,
Yet clad with reliques of some Trophees olde, 380
Lifting to heauen her aged hoarie head,
Whose foote in ground hath left but feeble holde; I
But halle disbowel'd lies aboue the ground,
Shewing her wreathed rootes, and naked armes,
And on her trunke ail rotten and vnsound
Onely supports herselfe for meate of wormes ;
And though she owe her fai1 to the first winde,
Yet of the deuout people is ador'd,
And manie yong plants spring out of her rinde;
Who such an Oke hath seene let him record 390
That such this Cities honour was of yore,
And mongst ail Cities florished much more.
RVINES OF ROME. z49
9
All that which Aegypt whilome did deuise,
All that which Greece their temples to embraue,
After th'Ionicke, Atticke, Doricke guise,
Or Corinth skil'd in curious workes to graue ;
All that Lysippus practike arte could forme,
Apelles wit, or Phidias his skill,
Was wont this auncient Citie to adorne,
And the heauen it selle with her wide wonders fill;
AIl that which Athens euer brought forth wise,
All that which Afrike euer brought forth strange,
All that which ,4sie euer had of prise,
Was here to see. O meruelous great change:
Rome liuing, was the worlds sole ornament,
And dead, is now the worlds sole moniment.
400
3 o
Like as the seeded field greene grasse first showes,
Then from greene grasse into a stalke doth spring,
And from a stalke into an eare forth-growes,
Which eare the frutefull graine doth shortly bring; 4o
And as in season due the husband mowes
The wauing lockes of those faire yeallow heares,
Which bound in sheaues, and layd in comely rowes,
Vpon the naked fields in stackes he reares:
So grew the Romane Empire by degree,
Till that Barbarian hands it quite did spill,
And left of it but these olde markes to see,
Of which ail passers by doo somewhat pill:
As they which gleane, the reliques vse to gather,
Which th'husbandman behind him chanst to scater. 42o
44 stackes F: stalkes OE
MVIOPOTMOS.
The fresh yong flie, in whom the kindly tire
Of lusffull youngth began to kindle fast,
Did much disdaine to subiect his desire
To loathsome sloth, or houres in ease to wast,
But ioy'd to range abroad in fresh attire;
Through the wide compas of the ayrie coast,
And with vnwearied wings each part t'inquire
Of the wide rule of his renowmed sire. 4o
For he so swift and nimble was of flight,
That from this lower tract he dar'd to stie
Vp to the clowdes, and thence with pineons light,
To mount aloft vnto the Christall skie,
To vew the workmanship of heauens hight:
Whence downe descending he along would flie
Vpon the streaming riuers, sport to finde;
And oft would dare to tempt the troublous winde.
So on a Summers day, when season m[lde
With gentle calme the world had quieted, 5o
And high in heauen Hyperions fierie childe
Ascending, did his beames abroad dispred,
Wh[les ail the heauens on lower creatures smilde;
Yong Clarion with vauntfull lustie head,
After his guize did cast abroad to rare ;
And theretoo gan his furnitures prepare.
His breastplate first, that was of substance pure,
Before his noble heart he firmely bound,
That mought his lire from yron death assure,
And ward his gentle corpes from cruell wound : 60
For it by arte was framed, to endure
The bit of balefull steele and bitter stownd,
No lesse than that, which l/'ukane made to sheild
Ichilles life from fate of Troyan fidd.
And then about his shoulders broad he threw
An hairie hide of some wilde beast, whom hee
In saluage forrest by aduenture slew,
And reft the spoyle his ornament to bee:
34 yonght Q: youth F
MVIOPOTMOS.
Which spredding ail his backe with dreadfull vew,
Made ail that him so horrible did see,
Thinke him .4lcides wlth the Lyons skin,
When the Nwmean Conquest he did win.
Vpon his head his glistering Burganet,
The which was wrought by wonderous deuice,
And curiously engrauen, he did set:
The mettall was of rare and passing price;
Not Bilbo steele, nor brasse from Corintoe fet,
Nor costly Oricalche from strange Ph«nice;
But such as could both Ph«bus arrowes ward,
And th'hayling darts of heauen beating hard. 80
Therein two deadly weapons fixt he bore,
Strongly outlaunced towards either side,
Like two sharpe speares, his enemies to gore:
Like as a warlike Brigandine, applyde
To fight, layes forth her threatfull pikes afore,
The engines which in them sad death doo hyde:
So did this file outstretch his fearefull hornes,
Yet so as him their terrour more adornes.
Lasfly his shinie wings as siluer brig.ht,
Painted with thousand colours, passmg farre 9o
Ail Painters skill, he did about him dight:
Not halfe so manie sundrie colours arre
In Iris bowe, ne heauen doth shine so bright,
Distinguished with manie a twinckling starre,
Nor Iunoes Bird in her ey-spotted traine
So manie goodly colours doth containe.
Ne (may it be withouten perill spoken)
The Archer God, the sonne of Cytteree,
That ioyes on wretched louers to be wroken,
And heaped spoyles of bleeding harts to see,
Beares in his wings so manie a changefull token.
Ah my liege Lord, forgiue it vnto mee,
If ought against thine honour I haue tolde;
Yet sure those wings were fairer manifolde.
MVIOPOTMOS.
Full manie a Ladie faire, in Court full oft
Beholding them, him secredy enuide,
And wisht that two such larmes, so silken sort,
And golden faire, her Loue would ber prouide;
Or that when them the gorgeous Flie had dort,
Some one that would with grace be gratifide, ,io
From him would steale them priuily away,
And bring to her so precious a pray.
Report is that dame Fenus on a day,
In spring when flowres doo clothe the fruitful ground,
Walking abroad with all her Nymphes to play,
Bad ber faire damzels flocking her arownd,
To gather flowres, her forhead to array:
Emongst the resta gentle Nymph was round,
Hight Hstery, excelling all the crewe
In curteous vsage, and vnstained hewe. i2o
Who being nimbler ioynted than the rest,
And more industrious, gathered more store
Of the fields honour, than the others best;
Which they in secret harts enuying sore,
Tolde I-énus, when her as the worthiest
She praisd', that Cupide (as they heard before)
Did lend her secret aide, in gathering
Into her lap the children of the spring.
Whereof the Goddesse gathering iealous feare,
Not yet wmindfull, how not long agoe i3o
Her sonne to Psyche secrete loue did beare,
And long it close conceal'd, till mickle woe
Thereof arose, and manie a rufull teare;
Reason with sudden rage did ouergoe,
And giuing hastie credit to th'accuser,
Was led away of them that did abuse her.
Eftsoones that Damzel by her heauenly might,
She turn'd into a winged Butterflie,
In the wide aire to make her wandring flight;
And ail those flowres, with which so plenteouslie ,40
I 6 praisd F
MVIOPOTMOS.
Her lap she filled had, that bred her spight,
She placed in her wings, for memorie
Of her pretended crime, though crime none were:
Since which that flie them in ber wings doth beare.
Thus the fresh Clarion being readie dight,
Vnto his iourney did himselfe addresse,
And with good speed began to take his flight :
Ouer the fidds in his franke lustinesse,
And all the champion he soared light,
And all the countrey wide he did possesse,
Feeding vpon their pIeasures bounteouslie,
That none galnsaid, nor none dld hlm enuie.
The woods, the riuers, and the medowes green,
With his are-cuttlng wings he measured wide,
Ne did he leaue the mountaines bare wlseene,
Nor the ranke grassie fermes delights vntride.
But none of these, how euer sweete they beene,
Mote please his fancie, nor him cause t'abide:
His choicefull sense with euerie change doth flit.
No common things may please a wauering wit. I6O
To the gay gardins his vnstaid desire
Him wholly caried, to refresh his sprights:
There lauish Nature in her best attire,
Powres forth sweete odors, and alluring sights ;
And Arte with her contending, doth aspire
T'excell the naturall, with made delights :
And all that faire or pleasant may be found,
In riotous excesse doth there abound.
There he arriuing, round about doth file,
From bed to bed, from one to other border, 7o
And takes suruey with curious busie eye,
Of euerie flowre and herbe there set in order ;
Now this, now that he tasteth tenderly,
Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder,
Ne with his feete their silken leaues deface;
But pastures on the pleasures of each place.
I49 champion he
s
o_6o
MVIOPOTMOS.
And euermore with most varietie,
And change of sweetnesse (for all change is sweete)
He casts his glutton sense to satisfie,
Now sucking of the sap of herbe most meete, I80
Or of the deaw, which yet on them does lie,
Now in the saine bathing his tender feete:
And then he pearcheth on some braunch thereby,
To weather him, and his moyst wings to dry.
And then againe he turneth to his play,
To spoyle the pleasures of that Paradise :
The wholsome Saulge, and Lauender still gray,
Ranke smelling Rue, and Cummin good for eyes,
The Roses raigning in the pride of May,
Sharpe Isope, good for greene wounds remedies, 9 o
Faire Marigoldes, and Bees alluring Thime,
Sweete Marioram, and Daysies decking prime.
Coole Violets, and Orpine growing still,
Embathed Balme, and chearfull Galingale,
Fresh Costmarie, and breathfull Camomill,
Dull Poppie, and drink-quickning Setuale,
Veyne-healing Veruen, and hed-purging Dill,
Sound Sauorie, and Baziil hartie-hale,
Fat Colworts, and comforting Persdine,
Colde Lettuce, and refreshing Rosmarine. 200
And whatso else of vertue good or iii
Grewe in this Gardin, fetcht from farre away,
Of euerie one he takes, and tastes at will,
And on their pleasures greedily doth pray.
Then when he bath both plaid, and fed his fill,
In the warme Sunne he doth himselfe embay,
And there him tests in riotous suffisaunce
Of ail his gladfulnes, and kingly ioyaunce.
What more felicitie can fall to creature,
Than to enioy delight with libertie, 2io
And to be Lord of all the workes of Nature,
To raine in th'aire from earth to highest skie,
x96 Huth OE omits Dull
MVIOPOTMOS.
To feed on flowres, and weeds of glorious feature,
To take what euer thing doth please the eie ?
Who rests not pleased with such happines,
Weil worthie he to taste of wretchednes.
But what on earth can long abide in state ?
Or who can him assure of happie day;
Sith morning faire may bring fowle euening late,
And least mishap the most blisse alter may ?
For thousand perills lie in close awaite
About vs daylie, to worke our decay;
That none, except a God, or God him guide,
May them auoyde, or remedie prouide.
And whatso heauens in their secret doome
Ordained haue, how can fraile fleshly wight
Forecast, but it must needs to issue come?
The sea, the aire, the tire, the day, the night,
And th'armies of their creatures all and some
Do serue to them, and with importune might
Warre against vs the vassals of their will.
Who then can saue, what they dispose to spill ?
Not thou, O ClaHon, though fairest thou
Of ail thy kinde, vnhappie happie Flie,
Whose cruell fate is wouen euen now
Of loues owne hand, to worke thy miserie:
Ne may thee helpe the manie hartie vow,
Which thy olde Sire with sacred pietie
Hath powred forth for thee, and th'altars sprent:
Nought may thee saue from heauens auengement.
It fortuned (as heauens had behight)
That in this gardin, where yong ClaHon
Was wont to solace him, a wicked wight
The foe of faire things, th'author of confusion,
The shame of Nature, the bondslaue of spight,
Had lately built his hatefull mansion,
And lurking closely, in awayte now lay,
How he might anie in his trap betray.
MVIOPOTMOS.
But when he spide the ioyous Butterflie
In this faire plot dispacing too and fro, 250
Fearles of foes and hidden ieopardie,
Lord how he gan for to bestirre him tho,
And to hîs wicked worke each part applie:
His heart did earne against his hated foe,
And bowels so with ranckling poyson swelde,
That scarce the skin the strong contagion helde.
The cause why he this File so maliced,
Was (as in stories it is written found)
For that his mother which him bore and bred,
The most fine-fingred workwoman on ground, 26o
/lrachne, by his meanes was vanquished
Of Pallas, and in her owne skill confound,
When she with her for excellence contended,
That wrought her shame, and sorrow neuer ended.
For the Tritonian Goddesse hauing hard
Her blazed fame, which ail the world had fil'd,
Came downe to proue the truth, and due reward
For her prais-worthie workmanship to yeild
But the presumptuous Damzel rashly dar'd
The Goddesse selfe to chalenge to the field, 270
And to compare with her in curious skill
Of workes with loome, with needle, and with quill.
Minerua did the chalenge not refuse,
But deign'd with her the paragon to make:
So to their worke they sit, and each doth chuse
What storie she will for her tapet take.
4rachne figur'd how loue did abuse
Europa like a Bull, and on his backe
Her through the sea did beare; so liuely seene,
That it true Sea, and true Bull ye would weene. 280
She seem'd still backe vnto the land to looke,
And her play-fellowes aide to cal/, and feare
The dashing of the waues, that vp she tooke
Her daintie feete, and garments gathered neare:
250 dispacing Q: displacing Hut$ Q, F 254 earne Q: yeme F
MVIOPOTMOS.
263
But (Lord) how she in euerie member shooke,
When as the land she saw no more appeare,
But a wilde wildernes of waters deepe:
Then gan she greatly to lament and weepe.
Before the Bull she pictur'd winged Loue,
With his yong brother Sport, light fluttering 290
Vpon the waues, as each had been a Doue;
The one his bowe and shafts, the other Spring
A burning Teade about his head did moue,
As in their Syres new loue both triumphing:
And manie Nymphes about them flocking round,
And manie Tritons, which their hornes did sound.
And round about, her worke she did empale
With a faire border wrought of sundrie flowres,
Enwouen with an Yuie winding trayle:
A goodly worke, full fit for Kingly bowres, 3oo
Such as Dame Pallas, such as Enuie pale,
That al good things with venemous tooth deuowres,
Could hOt accuse. Then gan the Goddesse bright
Her selle likewise vnto her worke to dight.
She made the storie of the olde debate,
Which she with Neptune did for Athens trie:
Twelue Gods doo sit around in royall state,
And loue in midst with awfull Maiestie,
To iudge the strife betweene them stirred late:
Each of the Gods by his like visnomie 3xo
Eathe to be knowen; but loue aboue them all,
By his great lookes and power Imperiall.
Before them stands the God of Seas in place,
Clayming that sea-coast Citie as his right,
And strikes the rockes with his three-forked mace;
Whenceforth issues a warlike steed in sight,
The signe by which he chalengeth the place,
That all the Gods, which saw his wondrous might
Did surely deeme the victorie his due:
But seldome seene, foreiudgement proueth true. 32o
335
Then to her sdfe she giues her/legide shield,
And steelhed speare, and morion on her hedd,
Such as she oft is seene in warlicke fidd:
Then sers she forth, how v¢ith her weapon dredd
She smote the ground, the which streight foorth did yidd
A fruitfull Olyue tree, with berries spredd,
That ail the Gods admir'd ; then all the storie
She compast with a wreathe of Olyues hoarie.
Emongst those leaues she made a Butterflie,
With excellent deuice and wondrous slight, 330
Fluttring among the Oliues wantonly,
That seem'd to liue, so like it was in sight:
The vduet nap which on his wings doth lie,
The silken downe v¢ith which his backe is dight,
His broad outstretched hornes, his hayrie thies,
Flis glorious colours, and his glistering eies.
Which v¢hen z¢rachne saw, as ouerlaid,
And mastered with workmanship so rare,
She stood astonied long, ne ought gainesaid,
And with fast fixed eyes on her did stare, 340
And by her silence, signe of one dismaid,
The victorie did yeeld her as her share:
Yet did she inly fret, and felly burne,
And ail her blood to poysonous rancor turne.
That shortly from the shape of womanhed
Such as she was, when Pallas she attempted,
She grew to hideous shape of dryrihed,
Pined with griefe of follie late repented:
Eftsoones her white streight legs were altered
To crooked crawling shankes, of marrowe empted» 350
And ber faire face to fowle and loathsome hewe,
And her fine corpes to a bag of venim grewe.
This cursed creature, mindfull of that olde
Enfestred grudge, the which his mother felt,
So soone as Clarion he did beholde,
His heart with vengefull malice inly swelt,
hayfie OE: ayfie F 346 attempted, OE, F: attempted t/utb Q
354 Enfestred OE : Enfested t/utb Q., F
MVIOPOTMOS.
39 * thoss (
And weauing straight a net with manie a folde
About the caue, in which he lurking dwelt,
With fine small cords about it stretched wide,
So finely sponne, that scarce they could be spide. 36o
Not anie damzell, which her vaunteth most
In skilfull knitting of sort silken twyne;
Nor anie weauer, which his worke doth boast
In dieper, in damaske, or in lyne;
Nor anie skil'd in workmanship embost;
Nor anie skil'd in loupes of fingring fine,
Might in their diuers cunning euer dare,
With this so curious networke to compare.
Ne doo I thinke, that that same subtil gin,
The which the Lemnian God framde craftilie, 370
Mars sleeping with his wife to compasse in,
That ai1 the Gods with common mockerie
Might laugh at them, and scorne their shamefull sin,
Was like to this. This saine he did applie,
For to entrap the careles Clarion,
That rang'd each where without suspition.
Suspition of friend, nor feare of foe,
That hazarded his health, had he at ail,
But walkt at will, and wandred too and fro,
In the pride of his freedome principall : 380
Litle wist he his fatall future woe,
But was secure, the liker he to lai].
He likest is to fall into mischaunce,
That is regardles of his gouernaunce.
Yet still ,'lragnoll (so his foe was hight)
Lay lurking couertly him to surprise,
And ail his gins that him entangle might,
I)rest in good order as he could deuise.
At length the foolish Flie without foresight,
As he that did ai1 daunger quite despise, 390
Toward those parts came flying careleslie,
Where hidden was his hatefull enemie.
370 framde craftilie Huth {, /': did slily frame Q.
39 z hatefull Q: fatal F
OE66
MVIOPOTMOS.
Who seeing him, with secrete ioy therefore
Did ticlde inwardly in euerie vaine,
And his false hart fraught vdth ail treasons store,
Was fil'd with hope, his purpose to obtaine:
Himselfe he close vpgathered more and more
Into his den, that his deceiptfull traine
By his there being might hot be bewraid,
Ne anie noyse, ne anie motion made. i 400
Like as a wily Foxe, that hauing spide,
Where on a sunnie banke the Lambes doo play,
Full closely creeping by the hinder side,
Lyes in ambushment of his hoped pray,
Ne stirreth limbe, till seeing readie tide,
He rusheth forth, and snatcheth quite away
One of the litle yonglings vnawares:
So to his worke lragnoll him prepares.
Who now shall giue vnto my heauie eyes
A well of teares, that ail may ouerflow?
Or where shall I finde lamentable cryes,
And mournfull runes enough my griefe to show ?
Helpe O thou Tragick Muse, me to deuise
Notes sad enough, t'expresse this bitter throw:
For loe, the drerie stownd is now arriued,
That of ail happines hath vs depriued.
The luckles Clarion, whether cruell Fate,
Or wicked Fortune faultles him misled,
Or some vngracious blast out of the gare
Of .4eoles raine perforce him droue on hed, 420
Was (O sad hap and howre vnfortunate)
With violent swift flight forth caried
Into the cursed cobweb, which his foe
Had framed for his finall ouerthroe.
There the fond Flie entangled, strugled long,
Himselfe to free thereout; but all in vaine.
For striuing more, the more in laces strong
Himselfe he ride, and wrapt his winges twaine
49 OrQ: OfF 420 Of Q: OrF
MVIOPOTMOS.
In lymie snares the subtill loupes among;
That in the etade he breathelesse did remaine,
And ail his yougthly forces idly spent,
Him to the mercie of th'auenger lent.
Which when the greisly tyrant did espie,
Like a grimme Lyon rushing with tierce might
Out of his den, he seized greedelie
On the resistles pray, and with fell spight,
Vnder the left wing stroke his weapon slie
Ilto his heart, that his deepe groning spright
In bloodie streames foorth fled into the aire,
His bodie left the spectacle of care.
OE67
43 o
440
FINIS.
Z)isions of t/)e orlcls vanitie.
Ne day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe,
My spirit, shaking off her earthly prison,
Began to enter into meditation deepe
Of things exceeding reach of common reason ;
Such as this age, in which all good is geason,
And ail that humble is and meane debaced
Hath brought forth in her last declining season,
Griefe of good mindes, to see goodnesse disgraced.
On which when as my thought was throghly placed,
Vnto my eyes strange showes presented were» o
Picturing that, which I in minde embraced,
That yet those sights empassion me full nere.
Such as they were (faire Ladie) take in worth,
That when time serues, may bring things better forth.
In Summers day, when Phoebus fairly shone,
I saw a Bull as white as driuen snowe,
With gilden hornes embowed like the Moone,
In a fresh flowring meadow lying lowe:
Vp to his eares the verdant grasse did growe,
And the gay floures did offer to be eaten;
But he with fatnes so did ouerflowe,
That he ail wallowed in the weedes downe beaten,
Ne car'd with them his daintie lips to sweeten:
Till that a Brize, a scorned little creature,
Through his faire bide his angrie sting did threaten,
And vext so sore, that ail his goodly feature,
And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased:
So by the small the great is oft diseased.
o
VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE. 269
3
Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile,
Vpon a sunnie banke outstretched lay 3o
In monstrous length, a mightie Crocodile,
That cram'd with guiltles blood, and greedie pray
Of wretched people trauailing that way,
Thought all things lesse than his disdainfull pride.
I saw a little Bird, cal'd 'l'edula,
The least of thousands which on earth abide,
That forst this hideous beast to open wide
The greisly gates of his deuouring hell,
And let him feede, as Nature doth prouide,
Vpon his iawes, that with blacke venime swell. 40
Why then should greatest things the least disdaine,
Sith that so small so mightie can constraine ?
4
The kingly Bird, that beares Ioues thunder-clap,
One day did scorne the simple Scarabee,
Proud of his highest seruice, and good hap,
That made all other Foules his thralls to bee:
The silly Flie, that no redresse did see,
Spide where the Eagle built his towring nest,
And kindling tire within the hollow tree,
Burnt vp his yong ones, and himselfe distrest;
Ne suffred him in anie place to rest,
But droue in Ioues owne lap his egs to lay;
Where gathering also filth him to infest,
Forst with the filth his egs to fling away:
For which when as the Foule was wroth, said Ioue,
Lo how the least the greatest may reproue.
OE7 o VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE.
5
Toward the sea turning my troubled eye,
I saw the fish (if fish 1 may it cleepe)
That makes the sea before his face to flye,
And with his flaggie finnes doth seeme to sweepe 6o
The fomie waues out of the dreadfull deep,
The huge Leuiathan, dame Natures wonder,
Making his sport, that manie makes to weep:
A sword-fish small him from the rest did sunder,
That in his throat him pricking softly vnder,
His wide Abysse him forced forth to spewe,
That all the sea did roare like heauens thunder,
And all the waues were stain'd with filthie hewe.
Hereby I learned haue, not to despise,
What euer thing seemes small in common eyes. 70
An hideous Dragon, dreadfull to behold,
Whose backe was arm'd against the dint of speare
With shields of brasse, that shone like burnisht golde,
And forkhed sting, that death in it did beare,
Stroue with a Spider his vnequall peare:
And bad defiance to his enemie.
The subtill vermin creeping closely neare,
Did in his drinke shed poyson priuilie;
Which through his entrailes spredding diuersly,
Made him to swell, that nigh his bowells brust,
And him enforst to yeeld the victorie,
That did so much in his owne greatnesse trust.
O how great vainnesse is it then to scorne
The weake, that hath the strong so oft forlorne.
8o
VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE. 27
7
High on a hill a goodly Cedar grewe,
Of wondrous length, and strelght proportion,
That farre abroad her daintie odours threwe;
Mongst all the daughters of proud Libanon,
Her match in beautie was not anie one.
Shortly within her inmost pith there bred
A litle wicked worme, perceiu'd of none,
That on her sap and vitall moysture fed:
Thenceforth her garland so much honoured
Began to die, (O great ruth for the same)
And ber faire lockes fell from ber loftie head,
That shortly balde, and bared she became.
I, which this sight beheld, was much dismayed,
To see so goodly thing so soone decayed.
9 o
8
Soone after this I saw an Elephant,
Adorn'd with bells and bosses gorgeouslie,
That on his backe did beare (as batteilant)
A gilden towre, which shone exceedinglie;
That he himselfe through foolish vanitie,
Both for his rich attire, and goodly forme,
Was puffed vp with passing surquedrie,
And shortly gan ail other beasts to scorne,
Till that a little Ant, a silly worme,
Into his nosthrils creeping, so him pained,
That casting downe his towres, he did deforme
Both borrowed pride, and natiue beautie stained. IIO
Let therefore nought that great is, therein glorie,
Sith so small thing his happines may varie.
x x o natiue ttuth Q, F: natures Q
7 2 VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE.
9
Looking far foorth into the Ocean wide,
A goodly ship with banners brauely dight,
And flag in her top-gallant I espide,
Through the maine sea making her merry flight :
Faire blew the winde into her bosome right;
And th'heauens looked louely ail the wh[le,
That she did seeme to daunce, as in delight,
And at her owne felicitie did stalle.
Ail sodainely there cloue vnto her keele
A little fish, that men call Remora,
Which stopt her course, and held her by the heele,
That winde nor ride could moue her thence away.
Straunge thing me seemeth, that so small a thing
Should able be so great an one to wring.
120
I0
A mighty Lyon, Lord of ail the wood,
Hauing his hunger throughly satisfide,
With pray of beasts, and spoyle of liuing blood,
Safe in his dreadles den him thought to hide:
His sternesse was his prayse, his strength his pride,
And ail his glory in his cruell clawes.
I saw a wasp, that fiercely him defide,
And bad him batta[le euen to his iawes;
Sore he him stong, that it the blood forth drawes,
And his proude heart is fild with fretting ire:
In vaine he threats his teeth, his tayle, his pawes,
And from his bloodie eyes doth sparkle tire;
That dead himselfe he wisheth for despight.
So weakest may anoy the most of might. I40
VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE. 273
II
What time the Romaine Empire bore the faine
Of all the world, and florisht most in might,
The nations gan their soueraigntie disdaine,
And cast to quitt them from their bondage quight:
So when all shrouded were in silent night,
The Galles were, by corrupting of a mayde,
Possest nigh of the Capitol through slight,
Had not a Goose the treachery bewrayde.
If then a Goose great Rome from ruine stayde,
And Ioue himselfe, the patron of the place,
Preserud from being to his foes betrayde,
Why do vaine men mean things so much deface,
And in their might repose their most assurance,
Sith nought on earth can chalenge long endurance ?
i5o
When these sad sights were ouerpast and gone,
My spright was greatly moued in her rest,
With inward ruth and deare affection,
To see so great things by so small distrest:
Thenceforth I gan in my engrieued brest
To scorne ail difference of great and small,
Sith that the greatest often are opprest,
And vnawares doe into daunger rail.
And ye, that read these ruines tragicall
Learne by their losse to loue the low degree,
And if that fortune chaunce you vp to call
To honours seat, forget not what ),ou be:
For he that of himsdfe is most secure,
Shall finde his state most fickle and vnsure.
FINIS.
6o
Tbe Z)isions of Bellay.
T was the time, when rest sort sliding downe
From heauens hight into mens heauy eyes,
In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth drowne
The carefull thoughts of mortall miseries :
Then did a Ghost before mine eyes appeare,
On that great riuers banck, that runnes by Rorae,
Which calling me by naine, bad me to reare
My lookes to heauen whence all good gifts do corne,
And crying lowd, loe now beholde (quoth hee)
What vnder this great temple placed is:
Lo all is nought but flying vanitee.
So I that know this worlds inconstancies,
Sith onely God surmounts all times decay,
In God alone my confidence do stay.
IO
On high hills top I saw a stately frame,
An hundred cubits high by iust assize,
With hundreth pillours fronting faire the same,
Ail wrought" with Diamond after Dorick wize :
Nor brick, nor marble was the wall in view,
But shining Christall, which from top to base 2o
Out of her womb a thousand rayons threw,
On hundred steps of ,¢frike golds enchase :
Golde was the parget, and the seeling bright
Did shine all scaly with great plates of golde;
The floore of Iasp and Emeraude was dight.
O worlds vainesse. Whiles thus I did behold,
An earthquake shooke the hill from lowest seat,
And ouerthrew this frame with ruine great.
For the IS6 9 version of Te I, ri«ions of Bellay and Te l'ïs;on of Petrarc,
v. Appedix. t z inconstancies, inconstancies. Q, F 2 2 On Morris
conj. : One Q, F .4frike golds Q, F: .4frike« gold Morri« conj.
THE VISIONS OF BELLAY. 0.75
3
Then did a sharped spyre of Diamond bright,
Ten feete each way in square, appeare to mee, 30
Iustl" proportion'd vp vnto his hight,
So far as Archer might his leuel see:
The top thereof a pot did seeme to beare,
Made of the mettall, which we most do honour,
And {IX this golden vessell couched weare
The ashes of a mightie Emperour:
Vpon foure corners of the base were pight,
To beare the frame, foure great Lyons of gold ;
A worthy tombe for such a worthy wight.
Alas this world doth nought but grieuance hold. 40
I saw a tempest from the heauen descend,
Which this braue monument with flash did rend.
4
I saw raysde vp on yuorie pilloures tall,
Whose bases were of richest mettalls warke,
The chapters Alablaster, the fryses christall,
The double front of a triumphall Arke:
Olx each side purtraid was a Victorie,
Clad like a Nimph, that wings of siluer weares,
And in triumphant chayre was set on hie,
The auncient glory of the Romaine Peares.
No worke it seem'd of earthly craftsmans wit,
But rather wrought by his owne industry,
That thunder-dartes for Ioue his syre doth fit.
Let me no more see faire thing vnder sky,
Sith that mine eyes haue seene so faire a sight
With sodain rail to dust consumed quight.
great Lyons Q : Lyons great F
43 piliers Lç69 : pillowes {, F
T2
OE7 6 THE VISIONS OF BELLAY.
Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene,
Vpon seauen hills to spread his gladsome gleame,
And conquerours bedecked with his greene,
Along the bancks of the Ausonian streame : 6o
There many an auncient Trophee was addrest,
And many a spoyle, and many a goodly show,
Which that braue races greatnes did attest,
That whilome from the ff'royan blood did flow.
Rauisht I was so rare a thing to vew,
When lo a barbarous troupe of clownish fone
The honour of these noble boughs down threw,
Vnder the wedge I heard the tronck to grone ;
And since I saw the roote in great disdaine
A twinne of forked trees send forth againe. 70
6
I saw a Wolfe vnder a rockie caue
Noursing two whelpes; I saw her lide ones
In wanton dalliance the teate to craue,
V¢hile she her neck wreath'd from them for the nones:
I saw her raunge abroad to seeke her food,
And roming through the field with greedie rage
T'embrew her teeth and clawes with lukewarm blood
Of the small heards, her thirst for to asswage.
I saw a thousand huntsmen» which descended
Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie» 80
That with an hundred speares her flank wide rended.
I saw her on the plaine outstretched lie,
Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle:
Soone on a tree vphang'd I saw her spoyle.
6I addrest, F: addrest. Q
THE VISIONS OF BELLAY. 77
7
I saw the Bird that can the Sun endure,
With feeble wings assay to mount on hight,
By more and more she gan her wings t'assure,
Following th'ensample of her mothers sight:
I saw her rise, and with a larger flight
To pierce the cloudes, and with wide pinneons
To measure the most haughtie mountaines hight,
Vntill she raught the Gods owne mansions:
There was she lost, when suddaine I behelde,
Where tumbling through the ayre in firie fold;
All flaming downe she on the plaine was felde,
And soone her bodie turn'd to ashes colde.
I saw the foule that doth the light dispise,
Out of her dust like to a worme arise.
9 °
I saw a riuer swift, whose fomy billowes
Did wash the ground work of an old great wall; ioo
I saw it couer'd al1 with griesly shadowes,
That with black horror did the ayre appall:
Thereout a strange beast with seuen heads arose,
That townes and castles vnder her brest did coure,
And seem'd both milder beasts and fiercer foes
Alike with equall rauine to deuoure.
Much was l mazde, to see this monsters kinde
In hundred formes to change his fearefull hew,
When as at length I saw the wrathfull winde,
Which blows cold storms, burst out of Scithian mew, o
That sperst these cloudes, and in so short as thought,
This dreadfull shape was vanished to nought.
**o mew, F: mew Q
7 8 THE VISIONS OF BELLAY.
9
Then ail astonied with this mighty ghoast,
An hideous bodie big and strong I sawe,
With side long beard, and locks down hanging loast,
Sterne face, and front full of Saturnlike awe;
Who leaning on the belly of a pot,
Pourd foorth a water, whose out gushing flood
Ran bathing all the creakie shore aflot,
Whereon the ff'royan prince spilt Turnus blood;
And at his feete a bitch wolfe suck did yeeld
To two young babes: his left the Palme tree stout,
His right hand did the peacefull Oliue wield,
And head with Lawrell garnisht was about.
Sudden both Palme and Oliue fell away,
And faire greene Lawrell branch did quite decay.
120
IO
Hard by a riuers side a virgin faire,
Folding her armes to heauen with thousand throbs,
And outraging her cheekes and golden haire,
To falling riuers sound thus tun'd her sobs.
Where is (quoth she) this whilom honoured face?
Where the great glorie and the auncient praise,
In which all worlds felicitie had place,
When Gods and men my honour vp did raise?
Suffisd' it hOt that ciuill warres me made
The whole worlds spolie, but that this Hydra new,
Of hundred Hercules to be assaide,
With seuen heads, budding monstrous crimes anew,
So many Neroes and Caligulaes
Out of these crooked shores must dayly rayse?
astonied F: astoined Q I x 7 pot, F : pot. Q
4o rayse . F : rayse. Q
I30
I40
35 sufls'd F
THE VISIONS OF BELLAY. OE79
Il
Vpon an hill a bright flame I did see,
Wauing aloft with triple point to skie,
Which like incense of precious Cedar tree,
With balmie odours fil'd th'ayre farre and nie.
A Bird all white, well feathered on each wing,
Hereout vp to the throne of Gods did file,
And all the way most pleasant notes did sing,
Whilst in the smoake she vnto heauen did stie.
Of this faire tire the scattered rayes forth threw
On euerie side a thousand shining beames:
When sudden dropping of a siluer dew
(0 grieuous chance) gan quench those precious flames;
That it which earst so pleasant sent did yeld,
Of nothing now but noyous sulphure smeld.
I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle,
As cleare as Christall gainst the Sunnie beames,
The bottome yeallow, like the golden grayle
That bright Pactolus washeth with his streames;
It seem'd that Art and Nature had assembled
All pleasure there, for which mans hart could long;
And there a noyse alluring sleepe soft trembled,
Of manie accords more sweete than Mermaids song:
The seates and benches shone as yuorie,
And hundred Nymphes sate side by side about;
When from nigh hills with hideous outcrie,
A troupe of Satyres in the place did rout,
Which with their villeine feete the streame did ray,
Threw down the seats, and droue the Nymphs away.
165 as : off
OESo THE VIxul' t)lr-15Li ". ].
I3
Much richer then that vessell seem'd to bee,
Which did to that sad Florentine appeare,
Casting mine eyes farre off, I chaunst to see,
Vpon the Latine Coast herselfe to reare:
But suddenly arose a tempe.st great,
Bearing close enuie to these riches rare,
Which gan assaile this ship with dreadfull threat,
This ship, to which none other might compare.
And finally the storme impetuous
Sunke vp these riches, second vnto none,
Within the gulfe of greedie Nereus.
I saw both ship and tnariners each one,
And ail that treasure drowned in the maine:
But I the ship saw after raisd' againe.
XTO
x8o
I4
Long hauing deeply gron'd these visions sad,
I saw a Citie like vnto that saine,
Which saw the messenger of tidings glad;
But that on sand was built the goodly frame:
It seem'd her top the firmament did rayse,
And no lesse rich than faire, right worthie sure
(If ought here worthie) of immortall dayes,
Or if ought vnder heauen might firme endure.
Much wondred I to see so faire a wall:
When from the Northerne coast a storme arose,
Which breathing furie from his inward gall
On all, which did against his course oppose,
Into a clowde of dust sperst in the aire
The weake foundations of this Citie faire.
9 o
Q head« :hic and thefollowing page l, ri«ion« of the IVorld« Vanitie
,82 raisd F
THE VISIONS OF BELLAY. OES
At length, euen at the time, when Morpheus
Most trulie doth vnto our eyes appeare,
Wearie to see the heauens still wauering thus,
I saw ff'yph,eus sister comming neare; 200
Whose head full brauely with a morion hidd,
Did seeme to match the Gods in Maiestie.
She by a riuers bancke that swift downe slidd,
Ouer all the world did raise a Trophee hie;
An hundred vanquisht Kings vnder her lay,
With armes bound at their backs in shamefull wize;
Whilst I thus mazed was with great affray,
I saw the heauens in warre against her rize:
Then downe she stricken fell with clap of thonder,
That with great noyse I wakte in sudden wonder. 2xo
FINIS.
/e l/'isions of etrarch.
formerly translated.
B Eing one day at my window all alone,
So manie strange things happened me to see,
As much it grieueth me to thinke thereon.
At my right hand a Hynde appear'd to mee,
So faire as mote the greatest God delite ;
Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace,
Of which the one was blacke, the other white :
With deadly force so in their cruell race
They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast,
That at the last, and in short time I spide,
Vnder a Rocke where she alas opprest,
Fell to the ground, and there vntimely dide.
Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie,
Oft makes me wayle so hard a destenie.
IO
After at sea a tall ship did appeare,
Made ail of Heben and white Yuorie,
The sailes of golde, of silke the taclde were,
Milde was the winde, calme seem'd the sea to bee,
The skie eachwhere did show full bright and faire;
Wïth rich treasures this gay ship fraighted was: 2o
But sudden storme did so turmoyle the aire,
And tumbled vp the sea, that she (alas)
Strake on a rock, that vnder water lay,
And perished past ail recouerie.
O how great ruth and sorrowfull assay,
Doth vex my spirite with perplexitie,
Thus in a moment to see lost and drown'd,
So great riches, as like cannot be found.
27 monent Q
THE VISIONS OF PETRARCH. OE8 3
3
Then heauenly branches did I see arise
Out of the fresh and lustie Lawrell tree, 3o
Amidst the yong greene wood : of Paradise
Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see:
Such store of birds therein yshrowded were,
Chaunting in shade their sundrie melodie,
That with their sweetnes I was rauish't nere.
While on this Lawrell fixed was naine eie,
The skie gan euerie where to ouercast,
And darkned was the welkin ail about,
When sudden flash of heauens tire out brast,
And rent this royal1 tree quite by the roote, 40
Which makes me much and euer to complaine:
For no such shadow shalbe had againe.
4
Within this wood, out of a rocke did rise
A swing of water, mildly rumbling downe,
Whereto approched hot in anie wise
The homely shepheard, nor the ruder clowne;
But manie Muses, and the Nymphes withall,
That sweetly in accord did tune their voyce
To the sort sounding of the waters fall,
That my glad hart thereat did much reioyce.
But while herein I tooke my chiefe delight,
I saw (aias) the gaping earth deuoure
The spring, the place, and ail cleane out of sight.
Which yet aggreeues my hart euen to this houre,
And wounds my soule with rufuil memorie,
To see such pleasures gon so suddenly.
9 Then f6 9 : The Q, F
5o
OE84 THE VISlONS OF PETRARCH.
5
I saw a Phoenix in the wood alone,
With purple wings, and crest of golden hewe;
Strange bird he was, whereby I thought anone,
That of some heauenly wight I had the vewe;
Vntill he came vnto the broken tree,
And to the spring, that late deuoured was.
What say I more ? each thing at last we see
Doth passe away: the Phoenix there alas
Spying the tree destroid, the water dride,
Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine,
And so foorthwith in great despight he dide:
That yet my heart burnes in exceeding paine,
For ruth and pitie of so haples plight.
0 let mine eyes no more see such a sight.
At last so faire a Ladie did I spie,
That thinking yet on her I burne and quake;
On hearbs and flowres she walked pensiuely,
Milde, but yet loue she proudly did forsake:
White seem'd her robes, yet wouen so they were,
As ShOW and golde together had been wrought.
Aboue the wast a darke clowde shrouded her,
A stinging Serpent by the heele her caught;
Vherewith she languisht as the gathered floure,
And well assur'd she mounted vp to ioy.
Alas, on earth so nothing doth endure,
But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy:
Which make this life wretched and miserable,
Tossed with stormes of fortune variable.
80
THE VISIONS OF PETRARCH. 8 5
7
When I beheld this tickle trustles state
Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro,
And mortall men tossed by troublous rate
In restles seas of wretchednes and woe,
I wish I might this wearie life forgoe,
And shortly turne vnto my happie rest,
Where my free spirite might hot anie moe
Be vext with sights, that doo her peace molest.
And ye faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest
All heauenly grace and vertue shrined is,
When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest,
Loath this base world, and thinke of heauens blis:
And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures,
Yet thinke, that death shall spoyle your goodly features.
FINIS.
Q orait« 7 abo,e tSis toner 8 5 behold Morrit : beheld Q, FJ
9fi rythmes Q: rimes F
7)aphnaïda.
An Elcg, e vpon the
death of the noble and vertuous
Douglas Howard»Daugbter and
heire of Henry Lord tioard, V if-
,ou.t jndon, and ife of Ar-
thurc Gorges Efuir.
Dedicated to the Right honorable tle £ad]
tielena,Marqu¢ff¢ of Nortbanton.
.y Ed. Sp.
TO THE RIGHT
HONORABLE AND VER-
tuous Lady Helena Marquesse of
North-hampton.
Haue the rather presumed humbly to offer
vnto your Honour the dedication of this little
Poëme, for that the noble and vertuous
Gentlewoman of whom # is written, was by
match neere alied, and in affection greatly
deuoted vnto your Ladiship. ff-he occasion
why I wrote the same, was aswell the great
goodfame which I heard of her deceassed, as
the particular goodwill which I beare vnto her husband Master
Arthur Gorges, a louer of learning and vertue, whose house, as io
your Ladiship by mariage bath honoured, so doe I flnd the naine
of them by many notable records, to be of great antiquitie in this
Realme; and such as haue euer borne themselues with honourable
reputation to the world, and vnspotted loyaltie to their Prince and
Countrey : besides so lineally are they descended from the Howards,
as that the Lady Anne Howard, eldest daughter to Iohn Duke
of Norfolke, was wife to Sir Edmund, mother to Sir Edward,
and grandmother to Sir William and Sir Thomas Gorges
Knightes. 4nd therefore I doe assure my selfe, that no due honour
done to the white Lyon but will be most gratefull to your 2o
Ladiship, whose husband and children do so neerely participate with
the bloud of that noble family. 8o in all dutie I recommende this
Pamphlet, and the good acceptance thereof, to your honourable fauour
and proteaion. London this flrst of lanuarie, i59i.
Tour Honours humbly euer.
Ed. Sp.
The dedcatory letter is missing in B.21I. coly of Q 1 3 honourable F:
honoarable Q 6 Ed. Q a : Edm. F
Daphnaïda.
Hat euer man he be, whose heauie minde
Vqith griefe of mournefull great mishap opprest,
Fit matter for his cares increase would finde :
Let reade the rufull plaint herein exprest
Of one (I weene) the wofulst man aliue;
Euen sad llcyon, whose empierced brest
Sharpe sorrowe did in thousand peeces riue.
But who so else in pleasure findeth sense,
Or in this wretched life dooth take delight,
Let him be banisht farre away from hence: xo
Ne let the sacred Sisters here be hight,
Though they of sorrowe heauilie can sing;
For euen their heauie song would breede delight:
But here no tunes, saue sobs and grones shall ring.
In stead of them, and their sweete harmonie,
Let those three fatall Sisters, whose sad hands
Doo weaue the direfull threds of destinie,
And in their wrath breake off the vitall bands,
Approach hereto: and let the dreadfull Qeene
Of darkenes deepe corne from the Stygian strands, ao
And grisly Ghosts to heare this dolefull teene.
In gloomie euening, when the wearie Sun
After his dayes long labour drew to rest,
And sweatie steeds now hauing ouer run
The compast skie, gan water in the west,
I walkt abroade to breath the freshing ayre
In open fields, whose flowring pride opprest
With early frosts, had lost their beautie faire.
3 finde: QI: fynd, Qz, F
z9o
DAPHNAIDA.
There came vnto my minde a troublous thought,
Which dayly dooth my weaker wit possesse,
Ne lets it rest, vntill it forth haue brought
Her long borne Infant, fruit of heauinesse,
Which she conceiued hath through meditation
Of this worlds vainnesse and lifes wretchednesse,
That yet my soule it deepely doth empassion.
So as I muzed on the miserie,
In which men liue, and I of many most,
Most miserable man; I did espie
Where towards me a sory wight did cost,
Clad all in black, that mourning did bewray: 4o
And laakob staffe in hand deuoutlie crost,
Like to some Pilgrim corne from farre away.
His carelesse locks, vncombed and vashorne,
Hong long adowne, and beard ail ouer growne,
That well he seemd tobe sure wight forlorne;
Downe to the earth his heauie eyes were throwne
As loathing light: and euer as he went,
He sighed soft, and inly deepe did grone,
As if his heart in peeces would haue rent.
Approaching nigh, his face I vewed nere, ;o
And by the semblant of his countenance,
Me seemd I had his person seene elsewhere,
Most like/llcyon seeming at a glaunce;
/llcyon he, the iollie Shepheard swaine,
That wont full merrilie to pipe and daunce,
And fill with pleasance euery wood and plaine.
Yet halfe in doubt because of his disguize,
I softlie sayd/llcyon ? There with ail
He lookt a side as in disdainefull wise,
Yet stayed not: till I againe did call.
Then turning back he saide with hollow sound,
Who is it, that dooth naine me, wofull thrall,
The wretchedst man that treades this day on ground ?
43 vnshorne, Q 2, F: vnshorne Q r
DAPHNAIDA. 29x
One, whome like wofulnesse impressed deepe,
Hath ruade fit mate thy wretched case to heare,
And giuen like cause with thee to waile and weepe :
Griefe findes some ease by him that like does beare.
Then stay Alcyon, gentle shepheard stay,
(Q,oth I) till thou haue to my trustie eare
Committed, what thee dooth so ill apay. 70
Cease foolish man (saide he halfe wrothfully)
To seeke to heare that which cannot be told:
For the huge anguish, which dooth multiplie
My dying paines, no tongue can well vnfold :
Ne doo I care, that an), should bemone
My hard mishap, or any weepe that would,
But seeke alone to weepe, and dye alone.
Then be it so (quoth I) that thou art bent
To die alone, wapitied, vnplained,
Yet ere thou die, it were conuenient 8o
To tell the cause, which thee theretoo constrained:
Least that the world thee dead accuse of guilt,
And say, when thou of none shalt be maintained,
That thou for secret crime thy blood hast spilt.
Who lire dooes loath, and longs to bee vnbound
From the strong shacldes of fraile flesh (quoth he)
Nought cares at all, what they that liue on ground
Deeme the occasion of his death to bee:
Rather desires to be forgotten quight,
Than question made of his calamitie, 90
For harts deep sorrow hates both life and light.
Yet since so much thou seemst to rue my griefe,
And carest for one that for himselfe cares nought,
(Signe of thy loue, though nought for my reliefe:
For my reliefe exceedeth liuing thought)
I will to thee this heauie case relate.
Then harken well till it to ende be brought,
For neuer didst thou heare more haplesse fate.
64 deepe, 2, F: deepe /" 6"/ beare. F: beare. Qç 72 told:
OE », F: roide. Q af 76 mishap, Q : mishap 1», F 96 relate. F:
relate, lq
I oo keepe, F: keepe. ç
, F : impresse. Q
hayre 2 : heire F
DAPHNA1DA.
Whilome I vsde (as thou right wdl doest know)
My little flocke on westerne downes to keepe, too
Not far from whence Sabrinaes streame doth flow,
And flowrie bancks with siluer liquor steepe:
Nought carde I then for worldly change or chaunce,
For ail my ioy was on my gentle sheepe,
And to my pype to caroll and to daunce.
It there befell, as I the fields did range
Fearelesse and free, a faire young Lionesse,
White as the natiue Rose before the chaunge,
Which Venus blood did in her leaues impresse,
I spied playing on the grassie playne i io
Her youthfull sports and kindlie wantonnesse,
That did ail other Beasts in beawtie staine.
Much was I moued at so goodly sight;
Whose like before mine eye had seldome seene,
And gan to cast, how I her compasse might,
And bring to hand, that yet had neuer beene:
So wdl I wrought with mildnes and with paine,
That I her caught disporting on the grene,
And brought away fast bound with siluer chaine.
And afterwards I handled her so fayre, o
That though by kind shee stout and saluage were,
For being borne an auncient Lions haire,
And of the race, that all wild beastes do feare;
Yet I her fram'd and wan so to my bent,
That shee became so meeke and milde of cheare,
As the least lamb in all my flock that went.
For shee in field, where euer I did wend,
Would wend with me, and waite by me all day:
And all the night that I in watch did spend,
If cause requir'd, or els in sleepe, if nay, 3o
Shee would all night by mee or watch, or sleepe ;
And euermore when 1 did sleepe or play,
She of my flock would take full warie keepe.
I06 befell, 2, F: befell I o9 impresse,
I 13 sight ; Qç : sight, F 122 haire Q :
DAPHNAIDA.
93
Safe then and safest were my sillie sheepe,
Ne fear'd the Wolfe, ne fear'd the wildest beast :
Ail were I drown'd in carelesse quiet deepe:
My louelie Lionesse without beheast
So carefull was for them and for my good,
That when I waked, neither most nor least
I found miscaried or in plaine or wood. 4o
Oft did the Shepeheards, which my hap did heare,
And oft their lasses which my luck enuide,
Daylie resort to me from farre and neare,
To see my Lyonesse, whose praises wide
Were spred abroad; and when her worthinesse
Much greater than the rude report they tri'de,
They her did praise, and my good fortune blesse.
Long thus I ioyed in my happinesse,
And well did hope my ioy would haue no end:
But oh fond man, that in worlds ficklenesse o
Reposedst hope, or weenedst her thy frend,
That glories most in mortall miseries,
And daylie doth ber changefull counsels bend
To make new marrer fit for Tragedies.
For whilest I was thus without dread or dout,
A cruell Satyre with his murdrous dart,
Greedie of mischiefe ranging all about,
Gaue her the fatall wound of deadlie smart:
And reft fro me my sweete companion,
And reft fro me my loue, my life, my hart: 6o
My Lyonesse (ah woe is mee) is gon.
Out of the world thus v¢as she reft awaie,
Out of the world, vnworthie such a spoyle ;
And borne to heauen, for heauen a fitter pray:
Much titrer than the Lyon, which with toyle
/llcides slew, and fixt in firmament;
Her now I seek throughout this earthlie soyle,
And seeking misse, and missing doe lainent.
4a lasses Qç: lasses, F I53 bend Q a: bend: Q I,F
chiefeoEt: mischiefe, Q2, F 59 froQt: from Q2, F
F: hart, Q l
157 mis-
i6o hart :
DAPHNAIDA.
Therewith he gan afresh to waile and weepe,
That I for pittie of his heauie plight, i7o
Could not abstaine mine eyes with teares to steepe :
But when I saw the anguish of his spright
Some deale alaid, I him bespake againe.
Certes Alcyon, painfull is thy plight,
That it in me breeds almost equall paine.
Yet doth not my dull wit well vnderstand
The riddle of thy loued Lionesse ;
For rare it seemes in reason to be skand
That man, who doth the whole worlds rule possesse,
Should to a beast his noble hart embase, 18o
And be the vassall of his vassalesse :
Therefore more plaine aread this doubtfull case.
Then sighing sore, Daphne thou knewest (quoth he)
She now is dead; ne more endured to say:
But fell to ground for great extreamitie,
That I beholding it, with deepe dismay
Was much appald, and lightlie him vprearing,
Reuoked lire that would haue fled away,
All were my self through griefe in deadly drearing.
Then gan I him to comfort all my best, I90
And with milde counsaile stroue to mitigate
The stormie passion of his troubled brest;
But he thereby was more empassionate:
As stubborne steed, that is with curb restrained,
Becomes more tierce and feruent in his gare;
And breaking foorth at last, thus dearnelie plained.
What man henceforth, that breatheth vitall ayre,
Will honour heauen, or heauenlie powers adore ?
Which so vniustlie doe their iudgments share;
Mongst earthlie wightes, as to afftict so sore 200
The innocent, as those which do transgresse,
And do not spare the best or fayrest, more
Than worst or fowlest, but doe both oppresse.
179 possesse, F: possesse Qtt 192 brest ; F': brest, Qtt
2oa fairest, more Q 2, F: fayrest more, Q
DAPHNAIDA.
If this be right, why did they then create
The world so fayre, sith fairenesse is neglected ?
Or whie be they themselues immaculate,
If purest things be hOt by them respected ?
She faire, shee pure, most faire most pure shee was,
Yet was by them as thing impure reiected :
Yet shee in purenesse, heauen it selle did pas.
In purenesse and in ail celestiall grace,
That men admire in goodlie womankinde,
Shee did excdl, and seem'd of Angels race,
Liuing on earth like Angell new diuinde,
Adorn'd with wisedome and with chastitie :
And ail the dowries of a noble mind,
Which did her beautie much more beautifie.
No age hath bred (since fayre .4strea left
The sinfull world) more verrue in a wight,
And when she parted hence, with her she reft 220
Great hope; and robd ber race of bountie quight :
Well may the shepheard lasses now lament,
For dubble losse by her bath on them light;
To loose both her and bounties ornament.
Ne let Elisa royall Shepheardesse
The praises of my parted loue enuy,
For she hath praises in ail plenteousnesse
Powr'd vpon her like showers of Castaly
By her own Shepheard, Colin her owne Shepherd,
That her with heauenly hymnes doth deifie, 230
Of rustick muse full hardly to be betterd.
She is the Rose, the glorie of the day,
And mine the Primrose in the lowly shade,
Mine, ah hOt mine; amisse I naine did say:
Not mine but his, which mine awhile her made:
Mine to be his, with him to liue for ay:
O that so faire a flower so soone should fade,
And through vntimely tempest fall away.
2 2 womankinde, F: womankinde ; Qq
2 I excell, F: excell Qq race, Q 2, F: race Q i
96 DAPHNAIDA.
54 discontent, Q , F: discoment Q
She fell away in her first ages spring,
V¢hil'st yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde, 240
And whil'st her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring,
She fell away against all course of kinde."
For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong ;
She fel away like fruit blowne downe with winde :
Weepe Shepheard weepe to make my vndersong.
What hart so stony hard, but that would weepe,
And poure foorth fountaines of incessant teares ?
What Timon, but would let compassion creepe
Into his brest, and pierce his frosen eares?
In stead of teares, whose brackish bitter well 250
I wasted haue, my heart blood dropping weares,
To thinke to ground how that faire blossome fell.
Yet fell she not, as one enforst to dye,
Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent,
But as one toyld with trauaile downe doth lye,
So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went,
And closde her eyes with carelesse quietnesse ;
The whiles soft death away her spirit hent,
And soule assoyld from sinfull fleshlinesse.
Yet ere that life her lodging did forsake, 260
She all resolu'd and ready to remoue,
Calling to me (ay me) this wise bespake;
.,4lcyon, ah my first and latest loue,
Ah why does my .,4lcyon weepe and mourne,
And grieue my ghost, that ill more him behoue,
As if to me had chanst some euill tourne ?
I, since the messenger is come for mee,
That summons soules vnto the bridale feast
Of his great Lord, must needes depart from thee,
And straight obay his soueraine beheast : 270
Why should .,41c.yon then so sore lament,
That I from miserie shall be releast,
And freed from wretched long imprisonment ?
55 trauaile Q : trauell Q 2, F
DAPHNAIDA.
Our daies are full of dolor and disease,
Our life afflicted with incessant paine,
That nought on earth may lessen or appease.
Why then should 1 desire here to remaine?
Or why should he that loues me, sorie bee
For my deliuerance, or
My good to heare, and
I goe, and long desired
I goe with gladnesse to
Whereas no worlds sad
at all complaine
toward ioyes to see ?
haue to goe,
my wished test,
care, nor wasting woe
May come their happie quiet to molest,
But Saints and Angels in celestiall thrones
Eternally him praise, that hath them blest;
There shall I be amongst those blessed ones.
Yet ere I goe, a pledge I leaue with thee
Of the late loue, the which betwixt vs past,
My yong .4mbrosia, in lieu of mee
Loue her : so shall our loue for euer last.
Thus deare adieu, whom I expect ere long:
So hauing said, away she softly past:
Weep Shepheard weep, to make mine vndersong.
So off as I record those piercing words,
Which yet are deepe engrauen in my brest,
And those last deadly accents, which 
