haue I added a certain Glosse or scholion for thexposition of
170
old 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 vnknowen, or as not marked, and
175
that in this kind, as in other 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
180
nothing so much hateth, as to promulgate, yet thus much
haue I aduentured vpon his frendship, him selfe being for
long time 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
185
Court of Cupide, 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
190
of your worthinesse generally, and otherwyse vpon some par-
ticular 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 and
worthy Gentleman, the right worshipfull Ma. Phi. Sidney, a
195
special fauourer and maintainer of all kind of learning. Whose
cause I pray you Sir, yf Enuie shall stur vp any wrongful
accusasion, 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
200
many enemies, as I know wilbe set on fire with the sparks of
his kindled glory. And thus recommending the Author vnto
you, as vnto his most special good frend, and my selfe vnto
you both, as one making singuler account of two so very good
and so choise frends, I bid you both most hartely farwel, and
205
commit you and your most commendable studies to the tuicion
of the greatest.
Your owne assuredly to
be commaunded E. K.
Post scr
210
Now I trust M. Haruey, that vpon sight of your speciall frends
and fellow Poets doings, or els for enuie of so many vnworthy
Quidams, which catch at the garlond, which to you alone is
dewe, you will be perswaded to pluck out of the hateful
darknesse, those so many excellent English poemes of yours,
215
which lye hid, and bring them forth to eternall light. Trust
me you 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 withholding from
them so diuine pleasures, which they might conceiue of your
220
gallant English verses, as they haue already doen of your
Latine Poemes, which in my opinion both for inuention and
Elocution are very delicate, and superexcellent. And thus
againe, I take my leaue of my good Mayster Haruey. from
my lodging at London thys 10. of Aprill. 1579.
The generall argument of the whole booke.
Little I hope, needeth me at large to discourse the first Originall
of Æglogues, hauing alreadie touched the same. But for the
word Æglogues I know is vnknowen to most, and also mistaken
of some the best learned (as they think) I wyll say somewhat
5
thereof, being not at all impertinent to my present purpose.
They were first of the Greekes the inuentours of them
called Æglogaj as it were αγον or αγονóμων. λóγο. that is
Goteheards tales. For although in Virgile and others thespeak
ers be more shepheards, then Goteheards, yet Theocritus
10
in whom is more ground of authoritie, then in Virgile, this
specially from that deriuing, as from the first head and wel
spring the whole Inuencion of his Æglogues, maketh Gote
heards the persons and authors of his tales. This being, who
seeth not the grossenesse of such as by colour of learning would
15
make vs beleeue that they are more rightly termed Eclogai,
as they would say, extraordinary discourses of vnnecessarie
matter, which difinition albe in substaunce and meaning it
agree with the nature of the thing, yet nowhit answereth with
the áνáλνσς and interpretation of the word. For they be not
20
termed Eclogues, but Æglogues. which sentence this authour
very well obseruing, vpon good iudgement, though indeede
few Goteheards haue to doe herein, nethelesse doubteth not
to cal them by the vsed and best knowen name. Other curious
discourses hereof I reserue to greater occasion. These xij.
25
Æclogues euery where answering to the seasons of the
twelue monthes may be well 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
30
personages, or Moral: which for the most part be mixed with
some Satyrical bitternesse, 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
35
may euery thing herein be reasonably applyed: A few onely
except, whose speciall purpose and meaning I am not priuie
to. And thus much generally of these xij. Æclogues. Now will
we speake particularly of all, and first of the first. which he
calleth by the first monethes name Ianuarie: wherein to some
40
he may seeme fowly to haue faulted, in that he erroniously
beginneth with that moneth, which beginneth not the yeare.
For it is wel known, and stoutely mainteyned with stronge
reasons of the learned, that the yeare beginneth in March. for
then the sonne reneweth his finished course, and the seasonable
45
spring refresheth the earth, and the plesaunce thereof 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
50
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 t
he incarnation of our mighty Sauiour and eternall
55
redeemer the L. Christ, who as then renewing the state of the
decayed world, and returning 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
60
monument of our saluation, leaneth also vppon good proofe
of special iudgement. For albeit that in elder times, when as
yet the coumpt of the yere was not perfected, as afterwarde
it was by Iulius Cæsar, they began to tel the monethes from
Marches beginning, and according to the same God (as is
65
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 Ægipt: yet according to tradition of
latter times it hath bene otherwise obserued, both in gouern
70
ment of the church, and rule of Mightiest Realmes. For from
Iulius Cæsar 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
called πεβανοντες. of the Romanes intercalares (for in
75
such matter of learning I 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
80
ceremonies and religion, seeing that reckoning to agree neither
with the course of the sonne, nor of the Moone, therevnto
added two monethes, Ianuary and February: wherin it seem-
eth, that wise king minded vpon good reason to begin the
yeare at Ianuarie, of him therefore so called tanquam Ianua
85
anni the gate and entraunce of the yere, or of the name of the
god Ianus, to which god for that the old Paynims attributed
the byrth and beginning of all 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
90
the most part hath hetherto continued. Notwithstanding that
the Ægiptians beginne theyr yeare at September, for that
according to the opinion of the best Rabbins, and very purpose
of the scripture selfe, God made the worlde in that Moneth,
that is called of them Tisri. And therefore he commaunded
95
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.
But our Authour respecting nether the subtiltie of thone
parte, nor the antiquitie of thother, thinketh it fittest according
100
to the simplicitie of commen vnderstanding, to begin with
Ianuarie, wening it perhaps no decorum, that Shepheard
should be seene in matter of so deepe insight, or canuase a
case of so doubtful iudgment. So therefore beginneth he, and
so continueth he throughout.
Januarye.
Ægloga prima.
ARGVMENT.
In this fyrst Æglogue Colin cloute a shepheardes boy complaineth him of his vnfortunate loue, being but newly (as semeth) enamoured of a countrie lasse called Rosalinde: with which strong affection being very sore traueled, he compareth his carefull case to the sadde season of the yeare, to the frostie ground, to the frosen trees, and to his owne winterbeaten flocke. And lastlye, fynding himselfe robbed of all former pleasaunce and delights, hee breaketh his Pipe in peeces, and casteth him selfe to the ground.
COLIN Clovte.
A shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
when Winters wastful spight was almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,
Led forth his flock, that had bene long ypent.
5
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the folde,
That now vnnethes their feete could them vphold.
All as the Sheepe, such was the shepeheards looke,
For pale and wanne he was, (alas the while,)
May seeme he lovd, or els some care he tooke:
10
Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his stile.
Tho to a hill his faynting flocke he ledde,
And thus him playnd, the while his shepe there fedde.
Ye Gods of loue, that pitie louers payne,
(If any gods the paine of louers pitie:)
15
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,
20
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:
Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted
Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.
And now is come thy wynters stormy state,
Thy mantle mard, wherein thou maskedst late.
25
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,
30
And yet alas, yt is already donne.
You naked trees, whose shady leaues are lost,
Wherein the byrds were wont to build their bowre:
And now are clothd with mosse and hoary frost,
Instede of bloosmes, wherwith your buds did flowre:
35
I see your teares, that from your boughes doe raine,
Whose drops in drery ysicles remaine.
All so my lustfull leafe is drye and sere,
My timely buds with wayling all are wasted:
The blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,
40
With breathed sighes is blowne away, and blasted,
And from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,
As on your boughes the ysicles depend.
Thou feeble flocke, whose fleece is rough and rent,
Whose knees are weake through fast and euill fare:
45
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,
50
Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see:
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.