Diana of George of Montemayor Translated out of Spanish into English by Bartholomew Yong |
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| 6. | The sixth Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor. |
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 | Diana of George of Montemayor |  |
The sixth Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor.
303
[Louers, record my memorie, and name]
Louers, record my memorie, and name,
For one that is more happie then the rest:
And solemnize my conquest and my fame,
Which I haue got in being onely blest:
Extoll my glorie to the loftie sunne,
Which with this famous triumph I haue wonne,
To be the happiest man, that hath beene borne,
Of all, that haue to loue allegeance sworne.
For one that is more happie then the rest:
And solemnize my conquest and my fame,
Which I haue got in being onely blest:
Extoll my glorie to the loftie sunne,
Which with this famous triumph I haue wonne,
To be the happiest man, that hath beene borne,
Of all, that haue to loue allegeance sworne.
What louer yet was found vnto this howre
(Though in his loue most fauour'd he had beene)
Of greefe that had not tasted yet some sowre,
And had not felt some paine, and sorrowes seene?
Or who hath with such sweete his loue endured,
(Though of his Mistresse he were most assured,
And though she loued him with truest hart)
That felt not yet a little iealous smart?
(Though in his loue most fauour'd he had beene)
Of greefe that had not tasted yet some sowre,
And had not felt some paine, and sorrowes seene?
Or who hath with such sweete his loue endured,
(Though of his Mistresse he were most assured,
And though she loued him with truest hart)
That felt not yet a little iealous smart?
Amongst all these, I onely am exempted
From sorrowes, troubles, from mishaps and paines:
With both handes full I liue in ioies contented:
And more if I did tell, yet more remaines:
Secure I am, that in my happy brest
Vile iealousie shall neuer build her nest:
And that I may with greefe be neuer paid,
A strong and firme foundation I haue laid.
From sorrowes, troubles, from mishaps and paines:
With both handes full I liue in ioies contented:
And more if I did tell, yet more remaines:
Secure I am, that in my happy brest
Vile iealousie shall neuer build her nest:
And that I may with greefe be neuer paid,
A strong and firme foundation I haue laid.
Nothing in all the world shall breake this chaine
(If cruell death doth spare me with her dart)
And yet if loue in sepulcher remaine,
Death shall not there dissolue it in my hart:
See then how that most strong it needes must be,
Since to my will I wrought the same in me.
And for you may not say that I doe mooue it
With blazons, barke with reasons I will prooue it.
(If cruell death doth spare me with her dart)
And yet if loue in sepulcher remaine,
Death shall not there dissolue it in my hart:
See then how that most strong it needes must be,
304
And for you may not say that I doe mooue it
With blazons, barke with reasons I will prooue it.
Who to himselfe could be so inhumane
(Vnlesse he were depriued of his wit)
That swimming in a pleasant Ocean
Of ioies, would wish for greefe, not finding it.
Such ioies I taste, as neuer more I could,
My loue admits no sadnes, though I would:
For (yet admit) that I would now procure it,
My loue is such, that it will not endure it.
(Vnlesse he were depriued of his wit)
That swimming in a pleasant Ocean
Of ioies, would wish for greefe, not finding it.
Such ioies I taste, as neuer more I could,
My loue admits no sadnes, though I would:
For (yet admit) that I would now procure it,
My loue is such, that it will not endure it.
I haue good fortune at mine owne commaund,
Since I haue fauours at mine owne free will:
My loue to her, her loue to me is pawn'd,
Which fortunes spite and time shall neuer spill.
But now if ought with greefe my minde may mooue,
It is, to haue Corriuals in my loue:
But they my ioy, and glorie doe augment,
For more they are, the more is my content.
Since I haue fauours at mine owne free will:
My loue to her, her loue to me is pawn'd,
Which fortunes spite and time shall neuer spill.
But now if ought with greefe my minde may mooue,
It is, to haue Corriuals in my loue:
But they my ioy, and glorie doe augment,
For more they are, the more is my content.
If any care for these Corriuals dooe
(These faithfull louers) in my brest remaine,
Then see, how that with earnest suites I wooe,
And seeke them for my Shepherdesse againe:
And (truly) if it lay within my power,
A thousand I would send her euery hower:
But since I am so rude, and but a clowne,
I cannot set her golden praises downe.
(These faithfull louers) in my brest remaine,
Then see, how that with earnest suites I wooe,
And seeke them for my Shepherdesse againe:
And (truly) if it lay within my power,
A thousand I would send her euery hower:
But since I am so rude, and but a clowne,
I cannot set her golden praises downe.
If that with all the faire one should resort,
Shewing her vertues, and each goodly grace:
Little should then my homely praise import,
Hauing the world at her commaund and trace:
For (saying naught) her praise she better would
Her selfe disclose, though I said all I could:
And how much more, since I want skill, and art,
Of her to blazon foorth the meanest part.
Shewing her vertues, and each goodly grace:
Little should then my homely praise import,
Hauing the world at her commaund and trace:
For (saying naught) her praise she better would
Her selfe disclose, though I said all I could:
And how much more, since I want skill, and art,
Of her to blazon foorth the meanest part.
But now behold how far from that aboue
I haue estraied (my promise and intent)
My promise was, with reasons now to prooue,
That crosse, nor care my ioies could not preuent.
I know not, if by rashnes, or aduice,
It was my thought, that did my toong entice?
For when I thinke to praise my Shepherdesse,
Then straight my toong doth in her fauour presse.
I haue estraied (my promise and intent)
My promise was, with reasons now to prooue,
That crosse, nor care my ioies could not preuent.
I know not, if by rashnes, or aduice,
It was my thought, that did my toong entice?
For when I thinke to praise my Shepherdesse,
Then straight my toong doth in her fauour presse.
305
It takes no heede, and hath but small remorce,
To whom, what, where, how oft, why, how and when
Her praises be, nor of her little force,
Nor vertues of this fairest one: But then,
All in a heate, her praise begins to babble,
And I to stay such furie far vnable:
For thousand times I sharply chide the same,
But more I chide, the more it is to blame.
To whom, what, where, how oft, why, how and when
Her praises be, nor of her little force,
Nor vertues of this fairest one: But then,
All in a heate, her praise begins to babble,
And I to stay such furie far vnable:
For thousand times I sharply chide the same,
But more I chide, the more it is to blame.
Counsell I giue it, and with counsell threate,
That neuer it presume to meddle heere,
By telling it, it is too base a seate
For her high praise, that neuer had her peere:
But shamelesse it replies: let this not greeue thee,
And boldly saies: T'is true I doe beleeue thee.
For I confesse I neuer did suffice,
But such a want I hope my will supplies.
That neuer it presume to meddle heere,
By telling it, it is too base a seate
For her high praise, that neuer had her peere:
But shamelesse it replies: let this not greeue thee,
And boldly saies: T'is true I doe beleeue thee.
For I confesse I neuer did suffice,
But such a want I hope my will supplies.
As to a foole, seeing her follies such,
Sometimes I yeeld at length, to leaue the raine:
If then my Nymph so basely it doth touch,
It doth deserue no punishment, nor paine:
For howsoere she praise her: In the end
I feare not, that my loue it will offend:
But to returne fro whence my toong did run,
Breefly I will conclude what I begun.
Sometimes I yeeld at length, to leaue the raine:
If then my Nymph so basely it doth touch,
It doth deserue no punishment, nor paine:
For howsoere she praise her: In the end
I feare not, that my loue it will offend:
But to returne fro whence my toong did run,
Breefly I will conclude what I begun.
Another Cupid raignes within my brest,
Then Venus sonne that blinde, and franticke boy:
Diuers his works, intent and interest,
His fashions, sportes, his pleasure and his ioy
No slightes, deceites, nor woes he doth inspire,
He burnes not like to that vnseemely fire:
From reason, will my loue cannot entice,
Since that it is not placed in this vice.
Then Venus sonne that blinde, and franticke boy:
Diuers his works, intent and interest,
His fashions, sportes, his pleasure and his ioy
No slightes, deceites, nor woes he doth inspire,
He burnes not like to that vnseemely fire:
From reason, will my loue cannot entice,
Since that it is not placed in this vice.
For beautie I loue not my Shepherdesse
(Although she may be lou'd for passing faire)
Beautie in her the lest part doth possesse,
(Though hers doth make all others to despaire)
For mildnes, wisedome, and for vertues sake,
This zealous loue I first did vndertake:
And so my loue is honest, chaste, and sure,
Not wanton, fleshly, filthie, nor vnpure.
(Although she may be lou'd for passing faire)
Beautie in her the lest part doth possesse,
(Though hers doth make all others to despaire)
For mildnes, wisedome, and for vertues sake,
This zealous loue I first did vndertake:
And so my loue is honest, chaste, and sure,
Not wanton, fleshly, filthie, nor vnpure.
I wish my flockes greene grasse may neuer finde,
Nor cleerest springs, their burning thirst to slake,
Nor shades enioy in heate, nor coolest winde,
And that they may no profit to me make,
That March may come with rigour, to their harme,
And sheds and sheltor want to keepe them warme,
If euer any wicked thought had past
My loue, but what was honest, cleene, and chaste.
Nor cleerest springs, their burning thirst to slake,
Nor shades enioy in heate, nor coolest winde,
306
That March may come with rigour, to their harme,
And sheds and sheltor want to keepe them warme,
If euer any wicked thought had past
My loue, but what was honest, cleene, and chaste.
The Iuniper oile may neuer helpe my flockes,
With lothsome mangie being ouerrun,
Milke faile my sheepe, decay my countrie stockes
And little kid by hunger be vndone:
And let my masty lay him downe to sleepe,
So that the woolfe doth kill him, and my sheepe,
If in my loue I euer had inuention
Of wickednes, bad thought, or bad intention.
With lothsome mangie being ouerrun,
Milke faile my sheepe, decay my countrie stockes
And little kid by hunger be vndone:
And let my masty lay him downe to sleepe,
So that the woolfe doth kill him, and my sheepe,
If in my loue I euer had inuention
Of wickednes, bad thought, or bad intention.
But thinke not that my loue so chaste and pure,
Without the slaine of vaine and wanton thought,
And louing so sincerely, and so sure,
From vertue of mine owne proceedeth not:
Onely from her alone it is proceeding,
That no foule thought doth suffer to be breeding:
Dishonest motions in a fleshly soule
Her modest sight most brauely doth controule.
Without the slaine of vaine and wanton thought,
And louing so sincerely, and so sure,
From vertue of mine owne proceedeth not:
Onely from her alone it is proceeding,
That no foule thought doth suffer to be breeding:
Dishonest motions in a fleshly soule
Her modest sight most brauely doth controule.
For plainly, and not vainly, I suspect,
That if some boldface yonker did bewray
His wanton loue, or did to her detect
His thoughts, that did from honestie estray,
In looking on her onely, I durst sweare,
His wordes would freeze within his mouth for feare,
And that he could not onely speake for shame,
But neuer durst againe presume the same.
That if some boldface yonker did bewray
His wanton loue, or did to her detect
His thoughts, that did from honestie estray,
In looking on her onely, I durst sweare,
His wordes would freeze within his mouth for feare,
And that he could not onely speake for shame,
But neuer durst againe presume the same.
If in this song I purposed to touch
Her honestie, and vertues to explaine,
I knowe I am not worthy for so much,
When thousand bookes cannot the same containe:
And more, that once I somewhat sung, and saide
Before, and that my voice was then afraide,
For being so base: Now must it erre, as lately,
Since that her praise is growne more high and stately.
Her honestie, and vertues to explaine,
I knowe I am not worthy for so much,
When thousand bookes cannot the same containe:
And more, that once I somewhat sung, and saide
Before, and that my voice was then afraide,
For being so base: Now must it erre, as lately,
Since that her praise is growne more high and stately.
Then louing, as you see, with such successe,
I doe not feare disfauours any whit,
Musing alone on my faire Shepherdesse,
Fauours doe come by heapes, my minde to fit,
And so of her I neuer beg, nor craue them,
But in this sort continually I haue them:
As many as my handes can hold and borrow,
Wherefore I liue in ioy deuoid of sorrow.
I doe not feare disfauours any whit,
Musing alone on my faire Shepherdesse,
Fauours doe come by heapes, my minde to fit,
And so of her I neuer beg, nor craue them,
But in this sort continually I haue them:
307
Wherefore I liue in ioy deuoid of sorrow.
Louing in this same sort, there is no feare
Of iealousie, that's either true or fained:
A riuall heere sweete companie doth beare,
And all that in chaste loue in one are chained:
Yet name of Riuall fits not well this place,
Since chastitie together all imbrace:
Nor different mindes we can be said to carie,
Since our intents in no one point doe varie.
Of iealousie, that's either true or fained:
A riuall heere sweete companie doth beare,
And all that in chaste loue in one are chained:
Yet name of Riuall fits not well this place,
Since chastitie together all imbrace:
Nor different mindes we can be said to carie,
Since our intents in no one point doe varie.
Come then all you that loue, come by and by,
Leaue euery one his Shepherdesse, and loue,
Come loue my Shepherdesse, and for her die
In that that's pure, and commeth from aboue:
And you shall see how that your fortunes far
It dignifies, to loue this radiant star
Of vertue, and the time you shall auerre
Ill spent, that is not spent in louing her.
Leaue euery one his Shepherdesse, and loue,
Come loue my Shepherdesse, and for her die
In that that's pure, and commeth from aboue:
And you shall see how that your fortunes far
It dignifies, to loue this radiant star
Of vertue, and the time you shall auerre
Ill spent, that is not spent in louing her.
311
[To Luztea faire I do belong, this collar can auouch it]
To Luztea faire I do belong, this collar can auouch it,Let no man therefore be so bold, without her leaue to touch it.
314
[If that a small occasion had the power]
If
that a small occasion had the power,
To make thee leese thy rosie hew and colour,
Diana, say, how fals it out this hower,
That all my woes to pitie make thee duller?
To make thee leese thy rosie hew and colour,
Diana, say, how fals it out this hower,
That all my woes to pitie make thee duller?
Hath now a little peece of paper made thee
So milde, and gentle in so short a morrow,
And cannot yet my greatest loue perswade thee,
To make thee take compassion of my sorrow?
So milde, and gentle in so short a morrow,
And cannot yet my greatest loue perswade thee,
To make thee take compassion of my sorrow?
How of my selfe am I my selfe ashamed,
That thou shouldst reckon of so short a writing,
Which cannot iudge, nor vnderstand thy graces?
And yet thou wilt not bend thee to requiting
Of that, that's written in my hart inflamed,
And which hath alwaies suffred thy disgraces.
That thou shouldst reckon of so short a writing,
Which cannot iudge, nor vnderstand thy graces?
And yet thou wilt not bend thee to requiting
Of that, that's written in my hart inflamed,
And which hath alwaies suffred thy disgraces.
315
[A faire maide wed to prying iealousie]
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie,
One of the fair'st as euer I did see:
If that thou wilt a secret louer take,
(Sweete life) doe not my secret loue forsake.
One of the fair'st as euer I did see:
If that thou wilt a secret louer take,
(Sweete life) doe not my secret loue forsake.
Eclipsed was our Sunne,
And faire Aurora darkned to vs quite,
Our morning star was done,
And Shepherdes star lost cleane out of our sight,
When that thou didst thy faith in wedlocke plight:
Dame nature made thee faire,
And ill did carelesse fortune marrie thee,
And pitie, with despaire
It was, that this thy haplesse hap should be,
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie.
And faire Aurora darkned to vs quite,
316
And Shepherdes star lost cleane out of our sight,
When that thou didst thy faith in wedlocke plight:
Dame nature made thee faire,
And ill did carelesse fortune marrie thee,
And pitie, with despaire
It was, that this thy haplesse hap should be,
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie.
Our eies are not so bold
To view the sunne, that flies with radiant wing,
Vnlesse that we doe hold
A glasse before them, or some other thing:
Then wisely this to passe did Fortune bring,
To couer thee with such a vaile:
For heeretofore, when any viewed thee,
Thy sight made his to faile:
For (sooth) thou art, thy beautie telleth me,
One of the fair'st as euer I did see.
To view the sunne, that flies with radiant wing,
Vnlesse that we doe hold
A glasse before them, or some other thing:
Then wisely this to passe did Fortune bring,
To couer thee with such a vaile:
For heeretofore, when any viewed thee,
Thy sight made his to faile:
For (sooth) thou art, thy beautie telleth me,
One of the fair'st as euer I did see.
Thy graces to obscure,
With such a froward husband, and so base,
She meant thereby, most sure
That Cupids force, and loue thou shouldst imbrace:
For t'is a force to loue, no woondrous case.
Then care no more for kinne,
And doubt no more, for feare thou must forsake,
To loue thou must beginne,
And from hencefoorth this question neuer make,
If that thou should'st a secret louer take?
With such a froward husband, and so base,
She meant thereby, most sure
That Cupids force, and loue thou shouldst imbrace:
For t'is a force to loue, no woondrous case.
Then care no more for kinne,
And doubt no more, for feare thou must forsake,
To loue thou must beginne,
And from hencefoorth this question neuer make,
If that thou should'st a secret louer take?
Of force it doth behooue
That thou should'st be belou'd: and that againe
(Faire Mistresse) thou shouldst loue:
For to what end, what purpose, and what gaine,
Should such perfections serue? as now in vaine.
My loue is of such art,
That (of it selfe) it well deserues to take
In thy sweete loue a part:
Then for no Shepherd, that his loue doth make,
(Sweete Life) doe not my secret loue forsake.
That thou should'st be belou'd: and that againe
(Faire Mistresse) thou shouldst loue:
For to what end, what purpose, and what gaine,
Should such perfections serue? as now in vaine.
My loue is of such art,
That (of it selfe) it well deserues to take
In thy sweete loue a part:
Then for no Shepherd, that his loue doth make,
(Sweete Life) doe not my secret loue forsake.
[If that the gentle winde]
If
that the gentle winde
Doth mooue the leaues with pleasant sound,
If that the kid, behinde
Is left, that cannot finde
Her dam, runs bleating vp and downe:
The Baggepipe, reede, or flute,
Onely with ayre if that they touched bee,
With pitie all salute,
And full of loue doe brute
Thy name, and sound, Diana, seeing thee,
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie.
Doth mooue the leaues with pleasant sound,
If that the kid, behinde
317
Her dam, runs bleating vp and downe:
The Baggepipe, reede, or flute,
Onely with ayre if that they touched bee,
With pitie all salute,
And full of loue doe brute
Thy name, and sound, Diana, seeing thee,
A faire maide wed to prying iealousie.
The fierce and sauage beastes
(Beyond their kinde and nature yet)
With piteous voice and brest,
In mountaines without rest
The selfe same song doe not forget:
If that they staid at (Faire)
And had not passed to prying (Iealousie)
With plaintes of such despaire,
As moou'd the gentle aire
To teares: The song that they did sing, should be
One of the fair'st as euer I did see.
(Beyond their kinde and nature yet)
With piteous voice and brest,
In mountaines without rest
The selfe same song doe not forget:
If that they staid at (Faire)
And had not passed to prying (Iealousie)
With plaintes of such despaire,
As moou'd the gentle aire
To teares: The song that they did sing, should be
One of the fair'st as euer I did see.
Mishap, and fortunes play,
Ill did they place in beauties brest:
For since so much to say
There was of beauties sway,
They had done well to leaue the rest.
They had ynough to doe,
If in her praise their wits they did awake:
But yet so must they too,
And all thy loue that woo,
Thee not too coy, nor too too proud to make,
If that thou wilt a secret louer take.
Ill did they place in beauties brest:
For since so much to say
There was of beauties sway,
They had done well to leaue the rest.
They had ynough to doe,
If in her praise their wits they did awake:
But yet so must they too,
And all thy loue that woo,
Thee not too coy, nor too too proud to make,
If that thou wilt a secret louer take.
For if thou hadst but knowne
The beautie, that they heere doe touch,
Thou wouldst then loue alone
Thy selfe, nor any one,
Onely thy selfe accounting much.
But if thou dost conceaue
This beautie, that I will not publike make,
And mean'st not to bereaue
The world of it, but leaue
The same to some (which neuer peere did take)
Sweete Life doe not my secret loue forsake.
The beautie, that they heere doe touch,
Thou wouldst then loue alone
Thy selfe, nor any one,
Onely thy selfe accounting much.
But if thou dost conceaue
This beautie, that I will not publike make,
And mean'st not to bereaue
The world of it, but leaue
The same to some (which neuer peere did take)
Sweete Life doe not my secret loue forsake.
318
[Faire Shepherdesse, what hast with greefe to fill me]
Faire Shepherdesse, what hast with greefe to fill me,And how long dost thou purpose to destroy me,
When wilt thou make an end with woundes to noy me,
Not stretching foorth thy cruell hand to kill me?
Tell me the cause, why dost thou so much will me
To visit thee, and with such words dost ioy me?
That to my death I rather would imploy me,
Then by such present pangs and greefes to spill me.
Woe to my soule, since this doth cause thy sorrow,
That such a little fauour thou hast done me,
Little it is, in sooth, if it be peased
With all my teares, that neuer yet haue ceased
To fall, that to my death haue almost woon me:
They great, this small, those giue I, this I borrow.
[Thou dost desire (My life) as thou dost say]
Thou dost desire (My life) as thou dost say,To see me in thy loues inflam'd (at lest)
And yet an vncouth meanes thou dost suggest,
Which is, to giue me care from day to day:
Dost thou not see the fier to decay,
Waxe cold, and quench't, within my louing brest
With swelling teares, which trickle without rest
Out of mine eies, to see thy hard delay?
The meade with raine her goodly greene redeemes,
The oile doth in the lampe the flame maintaine,
And loue with teares augmented is no lesse:
But loue, the lampe, and meadow (as it seemes)
If that too much of these they doe containe,
Is spent, is quench't, and drowned in excesse.
319
[Continuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth]
Continuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth,
Where feeding hope continues, not decaying:
But euermore despaire, that greefe recanteth,
From former course of minde doth cause estraying.
Where feeding hope continues, not decaying:
But euermore despaire, that greefe recanteth,
From former course of minde doth cause estraying.
The glosse.
Riuers arise and run into the seas,
And waters without number day by day,
And yet the same seeme neuer to decay,
But new doe spring, and run and doe increase.
So endlesse woes arise and multiplie,
Redoubled one vpon anothers head:
(For one in truth is with another fed)
Still doe they come and yet they neuer die.
For since their fertill rootes each moment planteth,
Continuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth.
And waters without number day by day,
And yet the same seeme neuer to decay,
But new doe spring, and run and doe increase.
So endlesse woes arise and multiplie,
Redoubled one vpon anothers head:
(For one in truth is with another fed)
Still doe they come and yet they neuer die.
For since their fertill rootes each moment planteth,
Continuall greefe and sorrow neuer wanteth.
Torments of minde and vilest miseries
Are sworne to dwell within a haplesse soule,
And there her ioies and pleasures doe controule,
As to my selfe my sweete content denies:
Then let not any Louer thinke to gaine
The meanest thing, that liues in any hope,
But liuing so, to fall into a scope,
And wander in a world of greefe and paine:
For miseries, men say, continue staying,
Where feeding hope continues not decaying.
Are sworne to dwell within a haplesse soule,
And there her ioies and pleasures doe controule,
As to my selfe my sweete content denies:
Then let not any Louer thinke to gaine
The meanest thing, that liues in any hope,
But liuing so, to fall into a scope,
And wander in a world of greefe and paine:
For miseries, men say, continue staying,
Where feeding hope continues not decaying.
Who knowes it not, Alas I knowe it well,
That if a wofull soule is hoping still,
She seldome doth enioy her mind and will,
But that her hope must euer be her hell:
So of this hope, that flatters me, I finde,
And doe confesse, that with the same I liue,
But still in feare, and therefore I would giue
It for despaire, to ease my doubtfull minde:
I wish not this false hope, my ioies that scanteth,
But euermore despaire, that greefe recanteth.
That if a wofull soule is hoping still,
She seldome doth enioy her mind and will,
But that her hope must euer be her hell:
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And doe confesse, that with the same I liue,
But still in feare, and therefore I would giue
It for despaire, to ease my doubtfull minde:
I wish not this false hope, my ioies that scanteth,
But euermore despaire, that greefe recanteth.
If any whit of goodnes euer came
By vile despaire, it comes to me in prime:
And it could neuer come in better time,
Then to be hoping still to haue the same:
The wisest and most prudent man at last,
Wanting the good, that long he doth attend,
(Which, nourished by hope, he did suspend)
Seeing the time, that fed his hope, is past,
And all his ioy, by hope that is decaying,
From former course of minde doth cause estraying.
By vile despaire, it comes to me in prime:
And it could neuer come in better time,
Then to be hoping still to haue the same:
The wisest and most prudent man at last,
Wanting the good, that long he doth attend,
(Which, nourished by hope, he did suspend)
Seeing the time, that fed his hope, is past,
And all his ioy, by hope that is decaying,
From former course of minde doth cause estraying.
[Faire Shepherdesse, I can no more]
Faire Shepherdesse, I can no more,But faine I would
Loue thee more, if that I could.
[Of mine owne selfe I doe complaine]
Firmius.Of mine owne selfe I doe complaine,
And not for louing thee so much,
But that indeede my power is such,
That my true loue it doth restraine,
And onely this doth giue me paine:
For faine I would
Loue her more, if that I could.
Faustus.
Thou dost deserue, who doth not see
To be belou'd a great deale more:
But yet thou shalt not finde such store
Of loue in others as in mee:
For all I haue I giue to thee.
Yet faine I would
Loue thee more, if that I could.
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O trie no other Shepherd swaine,
And care not other loues to prooue:
Who though they giue thee all their loue,
Thou canst not such as mine obtaine:
And would'st thou haue in loue more gaine?
O yet I would
Loue thee more, if that I could.
Faustus.
Impossible it is (my friend)
That any one should me excell
In loue, whose loue I will refell,
If that with me he will contend:
My loue no equall hath, nor end.
And yet I would
Loue her more, if that I could.
Firmius.
Behold how loue my soule hath charm'd
Since first thy beauties I did see,
(Which is but little yet to mee)
My freest senses I haue harm'd
(To loue thee) leauing them vnarm'd:
And yet I would
Loue thee more, if that I could.
Faustus.
I euer gaue and giue thee still
Such store of loue, as loue hath lent me:
And therefore well thou maist content thee,
That loue doth so enrich my fill:
But now behold my chiefest will,
That faine I would
Loue thee more, if that I could.
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[Faustus in faith thou nill deserue]
Faustus in faith thou nill deserue
A Shepherds name, or keeping sheepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
A Shepherds name, or keeping sheepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
O that in passed time of late
My selfe had past with that as fast,
Then of this time I had no tast,
Hauing enioyed so sweete a fate,
Once was I in a happie state,
Which want, mine eies in teares must steepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
My selfe had past with that as fast,
Then of this time I had no tast,
Hauing enioyed so sweete a fate,
Once was I in a happie state,
Which want, mine eies in teares must steepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Ioyfull I was, and well content,
Bicause I sawe (vnto my will)
Thy loue so well thou didst fulfill,
Which answer'd mine in sweete accent:
But now I smell thy false intent,
Which is, with suttletie becleepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Bicause I sawe (vnto my will)
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Which answer'd mine in sweete accent:
But now I smell thy false intent,
Which is, with suttletie becleepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Thy faith and more thy solemne othe
Then to me firmely didst thou giue
Not to forget me, while I liue:
But now thou hast committed both
Vnto the windes, that also loth
Their little woorth abroad to sweepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Then to me firmely didst thou giue
Not to forget me, while I liue:
But now thou hast committed both
Vnto the windes, that also loth
Their little woorth abroad to sweepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
If thou dost thinke that to beguile
Her that doth loue, it is a glorie,
Alas I cannot be but sorie:
With thousand such thou maist defile
Thy credit, and triumph each while
Of all that heere doe feede their sheepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Her that doth loue, it is a glorie,
Alas I cannot be but sorie:
With thousand such thou maist defile
Thy credit, and triumph each while
Of all that heere doe feede their sheepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Behold my matchlesse loue most deere,
And marke thy selfe, and who thou art,
For if thou wilt, with guilefull hart
Thou maist deceiue a thousand heere:
Then greater doth my loue appeere,
Then thy disloyaltie so deepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
And marke thy selfe, and who thou art,
For if thou wilt, with guilefull hart
Thou maist deceiue a thousand heere:
Then greater doth my loue appeere,
Then thy disloyaltie so deepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
Musing I am, both night and day,
And sundrie waies my fancies mooue,
How that I might forget thy loue:
And then vnto my selfe I say,
That since thou dost me so betray,
My loue shall in obliuion sleepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
And sundrie waies my fancies mooue,
How that I might forget thy loue:
And then vnto my selfe I say,
That since thou dost me so betray,
My loue shall in obliuion sleepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
But at the time when I decree
To practise it, then loue doth more
Renew his forces then before:
So that if loue aboundes in mee,
And that the same doth want in thee,
What shall I doe, shall not I weepe?
When thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
To practise it, then loue doth more
Renew his forces then before:
So that if loue aboundes in mee,
And that the same doth want in thee,
What shall I doe, shall not I weepe?
When thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
A remedie, and very short
In th' end to take I will not feare,
Which shall be lesse for me to beare,
Then thus to liue in such a sort,
And death it is, mine onely port,
To which my shiuer'd barke doth creepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
In th' end to take I will not feare,
Which shall be lesse for me to beare,
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And death it is, mine onely port,
To which my shiuer'd barke doth creepe,
Since thou so ill thy faith dost keepe.
[The rest is sweete to him that wearied is]
The rest is sweete to him that wearied is,Succour and aide poore wretches wish for fast:
The doome of death from him, that now is cast
With fauour to reuoke, is thought a blisse:
The shade in chiefest heate is not amisse,
Pleasant of sheepe and Shepherdes to be past:
The water ioies the meade, with drynesse waste:
The frozen ground with ioy the sunne doth kisse:
But yet the glorie, ioy, and sweete content,
The wish of wishes, when the Shepherdesse
Staies for her louer, these doe far exceede.
Toong hold thy peace, and thought tell my intent,
How great a lightening hope is in distresse
Vnto the brest, that louing flames doth breede.
[Now doe I knowe at last (though to my smart)]
Now doe I knowe at last (though to my smart)How far the greefe of absence doth extend,
But that this knowledge neuer any friend
Of mine may learne, and wish with all my hart:
Thus haue I liu'd deceiued with this art,
Esteeming small of presence in the end:
But woe is me that proofe doth now commend,
And tels me cleere of this erronius part:
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For staying woundes my soule and euery sense,
Longer thy absence I cannot endure:
Marke well what they were woont to say of yore,
That by and by a hope, and confidence
After an absence doth succeede most sure.
[Faustus if thou wilt reade from me]
Faustus if thou wilt reade from me
These fewe and simple lines,
By them most cleerely thou shalt see,
How little should accounted bee
Thy fained wordes and signes.
For noting well thy deedes vnkinde,
Shepherd, thou must not scan
That euer it came to my minde,
To praise thy faith like to the winde,
Or for a constant man.
These fewe and simple lines,
By them most cleerely thou shalt see,
How little should accounted bee
Thy fained wordes and signes.
For noting well thy deedes vnkinde,
Shepherd, thou must not scan
That euer it came to my minde,
To praise thy faith like to the winde,
Or for a constant man.
For this in thee shall so be found,
As smoke blowne in the aire,
Or like quick siluer turning round,
Or as a house built on the ground
Of sandes that doe impaire.
To firmenesse thou art contrarie,
More slipp'rie then the Eele,
Changing as weather-cocke on hie,
Or the Camelion on the die,
Or fortunes turning wheele.
As smoke blowne in the aire,
Or like quick siluer turning round,
Or as a house built on the ground
Of sandes that doe impaire.
To firmenesse thou art contrarie,
More slipp'rie then the Eele,
Changing as weather-cocke on hie,
Or the Camelion on the die,
Or fortunes turning wheele.
Who would beleeue thou wert so free,
To blaze me thus each howre:
My Shepherdesse, thou liu'st in mee,
My soule doth onely dwell in thee,
And euery vitall powre.
Pale Atropos my vitall string
Shall cut, and life offend,
The streames shal first turne to their spring,
The world shall end, and euery thing,
Before my loue shall end.
To blaze me thus each howre:
My Shepherdesse, thou liu'st in mee,
My soule doth onely dwell in thee,
And euery vitall powre.
Pale Atropos my vitall string
Shall cut, and life offend,
The streames shal first turne to their spring,
The world shall end, and euery thing,
Before my loue shall end.
This loue that thou didst promise me
Shepherd, where is it found?
The word and faith I had of thee,
O tell me now, where may they be,
Or where may they resound?
Too soone thou didst the title gaine
Of giuer of vaine wordes,
Too soone my loue thou didst obtaine,
Too soone thou lou'st Diana in vaine,
That naught but scornes affoordes.
Shepherd, where is it found?
The word and faith I had of thee,
O tell me now, where may they be,
Or where may they resound?
Too soone thou didst the title gaine
Of giuer of vaine wordes,
Too soone my loue thou didst obtaine,
Too soone thou lou'st Diana in vaine,
That naught but scornes affoordes.
But one thing now I will thee tell,
That much thy patience mooues:
That, though Diana doth excell
In beautie, yet she keepes not well
Her faith, nor loyall prooues.
Thou then hast chosen, each one saith,
Thine equall and a shrowe,
For if thou hast vndone thy faith,
Her loue and louer she betraieth,
So like to like will goe.
That much thy patience mooues:
That, though Diana doth excell
In beautie, yet she keepes not well
Her faith, nor loyall prooues.
Thou then hast chosen, each one saith,
Thine equall and a shrowe,
For if thou hast vndone thy faith,
Her loue and louer she betraieth,
So like to like will goe.
If now this letter, which I send
Will anger thee: Before
Remember (Faustus yet my friend,)
That if these speeches doe offend,
Thy deedes doe hurt me more.
Then let each one of vs amend,
Thou deedes, I wordes so spent,
For I confesse I blame my pen,
Doe thou as much, so in the end
Thy deedes thou doe repent.
Will anger thee: Before
Remember (Faustus yet my friend,)
That if these speeches doe offend,
Thy deedes doe hurt me more.
Then let each one of vs amend,
Thou deedes, I wordes so spent,
For I confesse I blame my pen,
Doe thou as much, so in the end
Thy deedes thou doe repent.
Faustus, it needes must be a woondrous case,
And such a deede as one would not conceaue,
A simple soule so slily to deceaue,
Who quickly did thy faith and loue imbrace:
Thy firmnesse she had tride a little space,
And so she thought the same thou wouldst not leaue,
Which made her still vnto thy liking cleaue,
Bicause she thought it free from double face:
If of this conquest (Shepherd) thou dost boast,
With thousand such in time thou maist be crowned,
If thousand times thou mean'st to vndermine,
If high renowne is got for credit lost,
Onely of me a subiect thou shalt finde
With guiles to be a thousand times propouned.
And such a deede as one would not conceaue,
A simple soule so slily to deceaue,
Who quickly did thy faith and loue imbrace:
Thy firmnesse she had tride a little space,
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Which made her still vnto thy liking cleaue,
Bicause she thought it free from double face:
If of this conquest (Shepherd) thou dost boast,
With thousand such in time thou maist be crowned,
If thousand times thou mean'st to vndermine,
If high renowne is got for credit lost,
Onely of me a subiect thou shalt finde
With guiles to be a thousand times propouned.
[I pray thee keepe my kine for mee]
I pray thee keepe my kine for mee
Carillio, wilt thou? Tell.
First let me haue a kisse of thee,
And I will keepe them well.
Carillio, wilt thou? Tell.
First let me haue a kisse of thee,
And I will keepe them well.
327
If to my charge or them to keepe
Thou dost commend thy kine, or sheepe,
For this I doe suffice:
Bicause in this I haue beene bred:
But for so much as I haue fed,
By viewing thee, mine eies,
Command not me to keepe thy beast,
Bicause my selfe I can keepe lest.
Thou dost commend thy kine, or sheepe,
For this I doe suffice:
Bicause in this I haue beene bred:
But for so much as I haue fed,
By viewing thee, mine eies,
Command not me to keepe thy beast,
Bicause my selfe I can keepe lest.
How can I keepe, I pray thee tell,
Thy kye, my selfe that cannot well
Defend, nor please thy kinde,
As long as I haue serued thee?
But if thou wilt giue vnto mee
A kisse to please my minde,
I aske no more for all my paine,
And I will keepe them very faine.
Thy kye, my selfe that cannot well
Defend, nor please thy kinde,
As long as I haue serued thee?
But if thou wilt giue vnto mee
A kisse to please my minde,
I aske no more for all my paine,
And I will keepe them very faine.
For thee, the gift is not so great
That I doe aske, to keepe thy neate,
But vnto me it is
A guerdon, that shall make me liue:
Disdaine not then to lend, or giue
So small a gift as this.
But if to it thou canst not frame,
Then giue me leaue to take the same.
That I doe aske, to keepe thy neate,
But vnto me it is
A guerdon, that shall make me liue:
Disdaine not then to lend, or giue
So small a gift as this.
But if to it thou canst not frame,
Then giue me leaue to take the same.
But if thou dost (my sweete) denie
To recompence me by and by,
Thy promise shall relent me,
Heereafter some rewarde to finde:
Behold how I doe please my minde,
And fauours doe content me,
That though thou speak'st it but in iest,
I meane to take it at the best.
To recompence me by and by,
Thy promise shall relent me,
Heereafter some rewarde to finde:
Behold how I doe please my minde,
And fauours doe content me,
That though thou speak'st it but in iest,
I meane to take it at the best.
Behold how much loue workes in mee,
And how ill recompenc't of thee,
That with the shadow of
Thy happy fauours (though delaide)
I thinke my selfe right well appaide,
Although they prooue a scoffe.
Then pitie me, that haue forgot
My selfe for thee, that carest not.
And how ill recompenc't of thee,
That with the shadow of
Thy happy fauours (though delaide)
I thinke my selfe right well appaide,
Although they prooue a scoffe.
Then pitie me, that haue forgot
My selfe for thee, that carest not.
O in extreme thou art most faire,
And in extreme vniust despaire
Thy crueltie maintaines:
O that thou wert so pitifull
Vnto these torments that doe pull
My soule with senselesse paines,
As thou shew'st in that face of thine,
Where pitie and milde grace should shine.
And in extreme vniust despaire
Thy crueltie maintaines:
328
Vnto these torments that doe pull
My soule with senselesse paines,
As thou shew'st in that face of thine,
Where pitie and milde grace should shine.
If that thy faire and sweetest face
Assureth me both peace and grace,
Thy hard and cruell hart,
Which in that white brest thou dost beare,
Doth make me tremble yet for feare
Thou wilt not end my smart:
In contraries of such a kinde,
Tell me what succour shall I finde?
Assureth me both peace and grace,
Thy hard and cruell hart,
Which in that white brest thou dost beare,
Doth make me tremble yet for feare
Thou wilt not end my smart:
In contraries of such a kinde,
Tell me what succour shall I finde?
If then yoong Shepherdesse thou craue
A herdsman for thy beast to haue,
With grace thou maist restore
Thy Shepherd from his barren loue:
For neuer other shalt thou prooue,
That seekes to please thee more,
And who, to serue thy turne, will neuer shunne
The nipping frost, and beames of parching sunne.
A herdsman for thy beast to haue,
With grace thou maist restore
Thy Shepherd from his barren loue:
For neuer other shalt thou prooue,
That seekes to please thee more,
And who, to serue thy turne, will neuer shunne
The nipping frost, and beames of parching sunne.
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The end of the sixth booke.
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