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A Dialogue Song betweene Syluanus and Arsilius.
Syl.Sheepheard, why doo'st thou hold thy peace?
Sing, and thy ioy to vs report:
Arsil.
My ioy good Sheepheard) should be lesse,
If it were told in any sort.
Syl.
Though such great fauours thou doo'st winne,
Yet daigne thereof to tell some part:
Arsil.
The hardest thing is to begin,
In enterprizes of such Art.
Come make an end, no cause omit,
Of all the ioyes that thou art in:
Arsil.
How should I make an end of it,
That am not able to begin?
Syl.
It is not iust, we should consent,
That thou should'st not thy ioyes recite:
Arsil.
The soule that felt the punishment,
Dooth onely feele this great delight.
Syl.
That ioy is small, and nothing fine,
That is not told abroade to manie:
Arsil.
If it be such a ioy as mine,
It neuer can neuer be told to anie.
Syl.
How can this hart of thine containe
A ioy, that is of such great force?
Arsil.
I haue it, where I did retaine
My passions of so great remorce.
Syl.
So great and rare a ioy is this,
No man is able to with-hold:
Arsil.
But greater that a pleasure is,
The lesse it may with words be told.
Syl.
Yet haue I heard thee heeretofore,
Thy ioyes in open Songs report:
Arsil.
I said, I had of ioy some store,
But not how much, nor in what sort.
Syl.
Yet when a ioy is in excesse,
It selfe it will oft-times vnfold:
Arsil.
Nay, such a ioy would be the lesse,
If but a word thereof were told.
FINIS.
Bar. Yong.
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