The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney :: :: University of Virginia Library

Downe, Downe Melampus, what? youre fellowe byte?
I sett yow ore the Flock I dearely Love,
Them to Defend, not with youre selves to feighte,
Do yow not thinck this will the wolves remove?
From former feare they had of youre good myndes?
When they shall suche devyded weykenes prove?

What yf Lelanx a better morsell fyndes?
Then thow erste knowe, rather take parte wth him,
Then jarle, Loo, Loo, even these how envy blyndes?
And thow Lelanx, let not pryde make thee brym,
Bycause thow haste thy fellowe overgon̄,
But thanck the Cause thow seest, when hee ys Dym̄.

Here Lelanx here, in deede ageanst thy foen,
Of my good sheepe, thow never truce tyme tooke,
Bee as thow arte, but bee with myne at one,
For thoughe Melampus though a wolfe do looke,
(For Age dothe make him of a wolvish hewe)
Yet have I seene, when well a wolfe hee shooke.

Foole, that I am, that with my Dogges speake grewe,
Come nere good Mastix tis now full tway score,
Of yeares alas, synce I good Mastix knewe,
Thow heardest even now a young man snebb mee sore,
Bycause I redd him, as I woulde my sone.
Yowthe will have will, Aige must to age therefore.

Mastix.

What merveyle yf in youthe suche faultes bee done?
Synce that wee see oure saddest Shepeardes oute,
Who have theyre Lesson so longe tyme begun,
Quickly secure, and easily in doubte.
Eyther a sleepe bee all, yf noughte assayle,
Or all abroade, yf but a Cubb start oute.

Wee Shepeardes are like them that under sayle,
Do speake hye wordes, when all the Coaste ys clere,
Yet, to a Passinger, will Bonnett vayle,
I Con thee thanck to whome, thy Dogges bee dere,
But comonly like Curres wee do them intreate,
Save, when greate neede of them perforce appeare.

Then him wee kiss, whome late before wee beate,
With suche Intemperance, that eche way growes,
Hate of the first, Contempt of Later feate.
And suche discord tuixt greatest Shepeardes flowes
That, sporte yt ys, to see, with how greate Arte,
By Justice worcke they, theyre owne faultes disclose.

Like buysy boyes to wynn theyre Tutors harte,
One saythe hee mockes, the other saythe hee playes,
The Thirde his lesson myst, till all doo smart,
As for the rest, how Shepeardes spend theyre dayes
At Blow-poynte, Hott Cockles, or Keles
(Whyle let us pass oure tyme, eche Shepeheardes sayes)

So smalle accoumpte of tyme, the Shepearde feeles,
And dothe not feele, that lyfe ys noughte but tyme,
And when that tyme ys past, dethe holde his heeles,
To age, thus do they drawe theyre youthfull pryme
Knowyng no more, then what pore Tryall showes,
As fish sure tryall hathe of muddy slyme.

This Pattern good unto oure Children goes,
For, what they see, theyre Parentes love or hate,
Theyre first taughte sence preferrs to Teachers blowes,
These Cocklinges cokered, wee bewayle too late,
When that wee see oure ofspring gayly bent,
Woemen, Manwood, and men effeminate.

[Geron.]

Fye Man, Fye man what wordes hathe thy toungue lent?
Yet, thow arte mickle worse, than ere was I,
Thy too muche zeale, I feare thy Brayne hathe spent,
Wee ofte are angryer with the feeble flie,
For buysynes, where yt perteynes him not,
Then with the poysonous toades, that quyett lye.

I pray thee, what hathe ere the Parrett gott,
And yet (, they say) hee talkes in great mens bowers,
A Cage, (Gylded perchance) ys all his Lott,
Who, of his toungue the licoure gladly powers,
A good foole calde, with payne perhaps may bee,
But even for that shall suffer mighty Lowers.

Let Swanns example, siker serve for thee,
Who once all Byrdes in sweetly singing past,
But, now to scylence turnde his Minstrelsy,
For, hee woulde singe, that others were defaste,
The Peacockes pryde, The Pyes pilde flatery,
Cormorauntes glutt, Kytes spoile, Kinges fishers waste,

The faulcons fiercenes, Sparowes lechery,
The Cocowes shame, the gooses good intent,
Even Turtle toughte hee with hypocrisy,
And worse of other more, till by assent,
Of all the Byrdes, but namely these were greeved:
Of Fowles there called was a Parlement.

There, was the swann̄ of dignity deprived,
And statutes made, hee never shoulde have voyce,
Synce, when I thinck, hee hathe in sylence lived,
I warne thee therefore, synce thow mayste have choyse,
Let not thy toungue become a fyery matche?
No sworde so bytes, as that evill Toole anoyes.

Let oure unparciall eyes, a litle watche,
Oure owne Demeane, and soone wee wonder shall,
That, hunting faultes, oure selves wee did not Catche,
Into oure myndes, let us a litle falle,
And wee shall fynde more faultes then Leoperdes skynn̄,
Then who makes us suche Judges over all,
But, farewell nowe, thy faulte ys no greate sinne,
Come, Come, my Curres, tis late, I will goo in.