The Shorter Poems
Wil. hey ho pinching payne,
Per. Or thriue in welth, she shalbe mine.
Wil.ut if thou can her obteine.
Per. And if for gracelesse greefe I dye,
Wil. hey ho gracelesse griefe,
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Per. Witnesse, shee slewe me with her eye:
Wil.t thy follye be the priefe.
Per. And you, that sawe it, simple shepe,
Wil. hey ho the fayre flocke,
Per. For priefe thereof, my death shall weepe,
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Wil.nd mone with many a mocke.
Per. So learnd I loue on a hollye eue,
Wil. hey ho holidaye,
Per. That euer since my hart did greue.
Wil. now endeth our roundelay.
CUDDYE.
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Sicker sike a roundle neuer heard I none.
Little lacketh Perigot of the best.
And Willye is not greatly ouergone,
So weren his vndersongs well addrest.
WILLYE.
Herdgrome, I feare me, thou haue a squint eye:
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Areede vprightly, who has the victorye?
CUDDIE.
Fayth of my soule, I deeme ech haue gayned.
For thy let the Lambe be Willye his owne:
And for Perigot so well hath hym payned,
To him be the wroughten mazer alone.
PERIGOT.
135
Perigot is well pleased with the doome:
Ne can Willye wite the witelesse herdgroome.
WILLYE.
Neuer dempt more right of beautye I weene,
The shepheard of Ida, that iudged beauties Queene.
CUDDIE.
But tell me shepherds, should it not yshend
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Your roundels fresh, to heare a doolefull verse
Of Rosalend (who knowes not 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.
WILLY.
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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.
CUDDIE.
Then listneth ech vnto my heauy laye,
150
And tune your pypes as ruthful, as ye may.
Ye wastefull woodes beare witnesse of my woe,
Wherein my plaints did oftentimes resound:
Ye carelesse byrds are priuie to my cryes,
Which in your songs were wont to make a part:
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Thou pleasaunt spring hast luld me oft a sleepe,
Whose streames my tricklinge 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
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The hollow Echo of my carefull cryes,
I hate the house, since thence my loue did part,
Whose waylefull want 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
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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 fynd no part
Of pleasure past. Here will I dwell apart
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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 dreery death, my deadly cryes
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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
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I vowed haue to wayst, till safe and sound
She home returne, whose voyces siluer sound
To cheerefull songs can chaunge my cherelesse cryes.
Hence with the Nightingale will I take part,
That blessed byrd, that spends her time of sleepe
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In songs and plaintiue pleas, the more taugment
The memory of hys misdeede, that bred her woe:
And you that feele no woe, | when as the sound
Of these my nightly cryes | ye heare apart,
Let breake your sounder sleepe | and pitie augment.
PERIGOT.
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O 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, til you be at home:
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The night nigheth fast, yts time to be gone.
Perigot his Embleme.
Vincenti gloria victi.
Willyes Embleme.
Vinto non vitto.
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Cuddies Embleme.
Felice chi puo.
GLOSSE.
[7] Bestadde) disposed, ordered. [8] Peregall) equall. [8] Whilome) once.
[14] Rafte) bereft, depriued. [16] Miswent) gon a straye. [19] Ill may) according to Virgile.
Infelix o semper ouis pecus.
[26] A mazer) So also do Theocritus and Virgile feigne pledges of their strife.
[27] 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 Æglogues: for Idyllion in Greke signifieth the shape or picture of any thyng, wherof his booke is ful. And not, as I haue heard some fondly guesse, that they be called not Idyllia, but Hædilia, of the Goteheards in them.
[30] Entrailed) wrought betwene.
[36] Haruest Queene) The manner of country folke in haruest tyme. [46] Pousse.) Pease.
[53] It fell vpon) Perigot maketh hys song in prayse of his loue, to whom Willy answereth euery vnder verse. By Perigot who is meant, I can not vprightly say: but if it be, who is supposed, his love deserueth no lesse prayse, then he giueth her.
[66] Greete) weeping and complaint. [69] Chaplet) a kind of Garlond lyke a crowne.
[87] Leuen) Lightning. [89] Cynthia) was sayd to be the Moone. [95] Gryde) perced.
[112] But if) not vnlesse. [129] Squint eye) partiall iudgement. [131] Ech haue) so saith Virgile.
Et vitula tu dignus, et hic &c.
So by enterchaunge of gyfts Cuddie pleaseth both partes.
[135] Doome) iudgement. [137] Dempt) for deemed, iudged.
[136] Wite the witelesse) blame the blamelesse. [138] The shepherd of Ida) was sayd to be Paris.
[138] Beauties Queene) Venus, to whome Paris adiudged the golden Apple, as the pryce of her beautie.
Embleme.
The meaning hereof is very ambiguous: for Perigot by his poesie claming the conquest, and Willye not 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 win the beste, or moderate him selfe being best, and leaue of with the best.
September.
Ægloga Nona.
ARGVMENT.
Herein Diggon Dauie is deuised to be a shepheard, that in hope of more gayne, droue his sheepe into a farre countrye. The abuses whereof, and loose liuing of Popish prelates, by occasion of Hobbinols demaund, he discourseth at large.
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HOBBINOL. DIGGON DAUIE.
Diggon Dauie, I bidde her god day:
Or Diggon her is, or I missaye.
DIGGON.
Her was her, while it was daye light,
But now her is a most wretched wight.
5
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?
10
Or bene they chaffred? or at mischiefe dead?
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.
15
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 fain, the cloudes wexen cleare.
And nowe sithence I sawe thy head last,
20
Thrise three Moones bene fully spent and past:
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.
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My sheepe bene wasted, (wae is me therefore)
The iolly shepheard that was of yore,
Is nowe nor iollye, nor shepehearde more.
In forrein costes, men sayd, was plentye:
And so there is, but all of miserye.
30
I dempt there much to haue eeked my store,
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,
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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.
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Or they will buy his sheepe out of the cote,
Or they will caruen the shepheards throte.
The shepheards swayne you cannot wel ken,
But it be by his pryde, from other men:
They looken bigge as Bulls, that bene bate,
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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,
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That nowe is in his chiefe souereigntee,
Beating the withered leafe from the tree.
Sitte we downe here vnder the hill:
Tho may we talke, and tellen our fill,
And make a mocke at the blustring blast.
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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 hande,
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In hope of better, that was vncouth:
So lost the Dogge the flesh in his mouth.
My seely sheepe (ah seely sheepe)
That here by there I whilome vsd to keepe,
All were they lustye, as thou didst see,
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Bene all sterued with pyne and penuree.
Hardly my selfe escaped thilke payne,
Driuen for neede to come home agayne.
HOBBINOLL.
Ah fon, now by thy losse art taught,
That seeldome chaunge the better brought.
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Content who liues with tryed state,
Neede feare no chaunge of frowning fate:
But who will seeke for vnknowne gayne,
Oft liues by losse, and leaues with payne.
DIGGON.
I wote ne Hobbin how I was bewitcht
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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.
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For eyther the shepeheards bene ydle and still,
And ledde of theyr sheepe, what way they wyll:
Or they bene false, and full of couetise,
And casten to compasse many wrong emprise.
But the more bene fraight with fraud and spight,
85
Ne in good nor goodnes taken delight:
But kindle coales of conteck and yre,
Wherewith they sette all the world on fire:
Which when they thinken agayne to quench
With holy water, they doen hem all drench.
90
They saye they con to heauen the high way,
But by my soule I dare vndersaye,
They neuer sette foote in that same troade,
But balk the right way, and strayen abroad.
They boast they han the deuill at commaund:
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But aske hem therefore, what they han paund.
Marrie that great Pan bought with deare borrow,
To quite it from the blacke bowre of sorrowe.
But they han sold thilk same long agoe:
For thy woulden drawe with hem many moe.
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But let hem gange alone a Gods name:
As they han brewed, so let hem beare blame.
HOBBINOLL.
Diggon, I praye thee speake not so dirke.
Such myster saying me seemeth to mirke.
DIGGON.
Then playnely to speake of shepheards most what,
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Badde is the best (this english is flatt.)
Their ill hauiour garres men missay,
Both of their doctrine, and of their faye.
They sayne the world is much war then it wont,
All for her shepheards bene beastly and blont.
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Other sayne, but how truely I note,
All for they holden shame of theyr cote.
Some sticke not to say, (whote cole on her tongue)
That sike mischiefe graseth hem emong,
All for they casten too much of worlds care,
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To deck her Dame, and enrich her heyre:
For such encheason, If you goe nye,
Fewe chymneis reeking you shall espye:
The fatte Oxe, that wont ligge in the stal,
Is nowe fast stalled in her crumenall.
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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 of Basan brace hem about,
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That with theyr homes butten the more stoute:
But the leane soules treaden vnder foote.