 | Sicelides A Piscatory |  |
Scen. 3.
Fredocaldo Conhilio.Fre.
I, I am siluer white so is thy cheeke
Yet who for whitenes will condemne it?
If wrinkled, of thy forehead is not sleeke
Yet who for frowning dare contemne it.
Boys full of folly youth of rage
Both but a iourney to old age
I am not yet fayre Nymph to old to loue
And yet woemen loue old louers
Nor yet to wauing light, as false to proue
youth a foule inside fairely couers.
Yet who for whitenes will condemne it?
If wrinkled, of thy forehead is not sleeke
Yet who for frowning dare contemne it.
Boys full of folly youth of rage
Both but a iourney to old age
I am not yet fayre Nymph to old to loue
And yet woemen loue old louers
Nor yet to wauing light, as false to proue
youth a foule inside fairely couers.
Thy sunnes renew my spring againe.
Pretty very pretty, why yet I see
My braine is still as fresh as in my youth.
And quicke inuention springs as currantly
As in the greenest head: this little disticke
I made this morne, to send vnto my loue,
See, here's a legge how full, how little waining,
My limbs are still accompanied
With their kind fellow heate, no shaking palsie
Nor cramp has tane possession, my swift bloud streames
Runs quicke and speedie, through their burning channells
Pi'sh I am young, he is not antient
That hath a siluer badge of hoarie haires
But he that in sweete loue is dead and cold
So old men oft are young, and young men old
I'le take my farewell of this prettie verse
It is a prettie verse, I'le reade it againe
Conchylio throws downe his spectacles.
If I am siluer white and. O ho my spectacles.
Ah naughtie boy alas my spectacles
Con.
Ha ha he your eyes Fredocaldo take vp your eyes hah, ha, he,
Fre.
Ah naughtie boy alas my spectacles
Whether is he gone? O if I finde him
Con.
Find mee without eyes? hah, ha, he.
Fre.
O my verses my verses,
Snatches his verses.
Con.
A verie prettie verse: how fresh a braine that made it
If I am siluer white and, nay if you'l trie your limbs come on.
Exit Fredocaldo.
Enter Perindus.
Farewell frost: how? Perindus? oh how fitly
After warme winter comes a chill could summer
This youth in all things is that old mans contrarie
This a cold May, that a hot Ianuarie
All my art cannot blowe vp one sparkle
If I should stay hee'd blast mee, adue sol in Pises
Farewell good Caldofredo, I must after Fredocaldo
Exit.
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