Ayres and dialogues For One, Two, and Three Voyces. By Henry Lawes ... The First Booke |
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PASTORALL DIALOGUES.
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PASTORALL DIALOGUES.
A Dialogue betwixt Cordanus and Amoret, on a Lost Heart.
Distressed Pilgrim whose dark clouded eyes speaks thee a Martyr to Love's crueltiesCord.
Distressed Pilgrim whose dark clouded eyes speaks thee a Martyr to Love's cruelties; whither away?
Am.
What pittying voyce I hear cals back my flying steps?
Cord.
Prithee draw near.
Am.
I shall but say kind Swain what doth become of a lost heart, e're to Elizium it wounded walks?
Cord.
First, it does freely fly into the pleasures of a Loveers eye, but once condemn'd to scorn, it fetter'd lies an ever bowing slave to tyranies.
Am.
I pitty its sad Fate, since its offence was but for Love, can't tears recall it thence?
Cord.
O no, such tears as do for pitty call,
Am.
Since neither sighs nor tears, kind Shepheard tell, will not a kisse prevaile?
Cord.
Thou may'st as well court Eccho with a kisse.
Am.
Can no Art move a sacred violence to make her love?
Cord.
O no, 'tis only Destiny and Fate fashions our Wils. Either to love or hate.
Am.
Then captive heart, since that no humane spell hath pow'r to graspe thee his farewell.
Cord.
farewell.
Am.
Farewell, farewell, farewell.
Cho.
Lost hearts like Lambs drove from their Folds by fears,
A Dialogue betwixt Time and a Pilgrime.
Aged man that moves these fieldsPilgr.
Aged man that moves these fields.
Time.
Pilgrime speak, what is thy will?
Pilgr.
Whose soile is this that such sweet Pasture yields? or who art thou whose Foot stands never still? or where am I?
Time.
In love.
Pilgr.
His Lordship lies above.
Time.
Yes and below, and round about where
Pilgr.
If thou art Time, these Flow'rs have Lives, and then I fear, under some Lilly she I love may now be growing there.
Time.
And in some Thistle or some spyre of grasse, my syth thy stalk before hers come may passe.
Pilgr.
Wilt thou provide it may?
Time.
No.
Pilgr.
Alleage the cause.
Time.
Because Time cannot alter but obey Fates Laws.
Cho.
Then happy those whom Fate that is the stronger, together twist their threds, & yet draws hers the longer.
A Pastorall Dialogue betwixt Cleon and Cælia.
As Cælia rested in the shade with Cleon by her sideCho.
As Cælia rested in the shade with Cleon by her side, the Swain thus courted the yong Mayd, and thus the Nimph reply'd.
Cleon.
Sweet let thy captive fetters wear made by thine arms & hands, 'till such as thraldome scorn, or fear, envy those happy bands.
Cælia.
Then thus my willing arms I wind about thee, and am so thy pris'ner, for my selfe I bind untill I let thee go.
Cle.
Happy that slave whom the fair foe ties in so soft a chain.
Cæl.
Far happier I, but that I know thou
Cle.
By thy immortall Beauties never.
Cæl.
Fraile as thy Love's thine Oath.
Cle.
Though beauty faile my faith lasts ever.
Cæl.
Time will destroy them both.
Cle.
I doat not on that snow-white skin.
Cæl.
What then?
Cle.
Thy purer mind.
Cæl.
It lov'd too soon.
Cle.
Thou hadst not been so fair, if not so kind.
Cæl.
O strange vain fancy!
Cle.
But yet true.
Cæl.
Prove it.
Cle.
Then make a Brade of those loose flames which circle you, my Sun's & yet your shade.
Cæl.
'Tis done.
Cle.
Now give it me.
Cæl.
Thus thou shalt thine own errour find; if these were Beauties, I am now lesse fair, because
Cle.
You shall confesse you erre, that hair, shall it not change the hew, or leave the golden Mountain bare?
Cæl.
Aye me, it is too true.
Cle.
But this small wreath shall ever stay in the first native prime, and smiling when the rest decay, the Triumph sing of Time.
Cæl.
Then let me cut from thy fair Grove one branch, and let that be an Emblem of Eternall Love, for such is mine to thee.
Both together.
Thus are vve both redeem'd from Time.
Cle.
I, by thy grace.
Cæl.
And I, shall live in thy immortall Rimes untill the Muses dy.
Cle.
By Heav'n.
Cæl.
Swear not, if I must weep, Jove shall not laugh at
Cle.
This breath's my soule to thee.
Cho.
Then forth the thicket Thirsis rusht, where he saw all the play, the Swain stood still, and smil'd, and blush'd, the Nimph fled fast away.
A Bacchanall.
as well as Bowls with sprightly strains:
and mony be the Misers wish,
poor Schollers study all their dayes,
and Gluttons glory in their dish:
'Tis wine, pure wine revives sad souls,
Therefore give us the cheer in Bowls.
Or in a Lovers lock delight,
And Artificiall colours wear,
We have the Native Red and White:
'Tis Wine, pure Wine, &c.
Or how to please your pallats think,
Give us a salt West-phalia Gammon,
Not meat to eat, but meat to drink:
'Tis Wine, pure Wine, &c.
Some have Palsie, some the Gout,
Some swell with fat, and some consume,
But they are sound that drink all out:
'Tis Wine, pure Wine, &c.
That forward which before was dull;
Those grow good fellows that were grave,
And kindness flows from cups brim full:
'Tis Wine, pure Wine, &c.
Some want a Wife, and some a Punke,
Some men want wit, and some want wealth,
But they want nothing that are drunke:
'Tis Wine, pure Wine, &c.
Upon a Crown'd Heart sent to a Cruell Mistress.
Go thou Emblem of my heartGo thou Emblem of my heart, tell my Mistress whose thou art; if with Love she do receive thee, happy then, happy then, happy then thou art to leave me: But if she do chance to Frown, let her only spoyl that Crown, and all wounded home return thee, where no other flame shall burn thee; for empaled in my brest, though thou break my peacefull rest; yet I vow in thy defence, Love no more shall fire thee hence, yet I vow in thy defence, Love no more, no more shall fire thee hence.
The fickle state of Lovers.
O the fickle state of LoversO the fickle state of Lovers, a heart perplext with hopes and fears; to day a world of Joy discover's, and to morrow's drown'd in tears: a Lovers state's like April's, like April's weather, Rain and Sunshine, Rain and Sunshine, Rain and Sunshine both together: If his Mistress do but smile, a Heav'n of Joy is in his heart, if her Brow but frown a while, Hell can send no greater smart; in a Lovers brest doth dwell very Heav'n, very Heav'n, or very Hell.
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