The Ant and the Nightingale or, Father Hubburds Tales [by Thomas Middleton] |
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The Nightingales Canzonet.
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 | The Ant and the Nightingale |  |
The Nightingales Canzonet.
Poore little Ant,
Thou shalt not want,
The rauish't Musicke of my voyce.
Thy shape is best,
Now thou art least,
For Great Ones fall with greater noyse:
And this shall be the Marriage of my Song,
Small Bodyes can haue but a little wrong.
Thou shalt not want,
The rauish't Musicke of my voyce.
Thy shape is best,
Now thou art least,
For Great Ones fall with greater noyse:
And this shall be the Marriage of my Song,
Small Bodyes can haue but a little wrong.
Now thou art securer,
And thy Dayes farre surer,
Thou payste no Rent vpon the Racke,
To dawbe a prodigall Land-lords backe:
Or to maintaine the subtill running
Of Dice and Drabs, both one in Cunning.
Both passe from hand to hand to many,
Flattring all, yet false to any:
Both are well linck't: fore throw Dice how you can,
They will turne vp their Peepes to euery man.
And thy Dayes farre surer,
Thou payste no Rent vpon the Racke,
To dawbe a prodigall Land-lords backe:
Or to maintaine the subtill running
Of Dice and Drabs, both one in Cunning.
Both passe from hand to hand to many,
Flattring all, yet false to any:
They will turne vp their Peepes to euery man.
Happie art thou, and all thy brothers,
That neuer feelst the Hell of others:
The torment to a luxur due,
Who neuer thinkes his harlot true,
Although vpon her heels he stick his eyes,
Yet still he feares, that though she stands, she lyes.
That neuer feelst the Hell of others:
The torment to a luxur due,
Who neuer thinkes his harlot true,
Although vpon her heels he stick his eyes,
Yet still he feares, that though she stands, she lyes.
Now are thy labours easie,
Thy state not sick or queasies,
All drops thou sweatst are now thine owne,
Great Subsidies be as vnknowne
To thee, and to thy litle fellow Ants,
Now none of you vnder that burthen pants.
Thy state not sick or queasies,
All drops thou sweatst are now thine owne,
Great Subsidies be as vnknowne
To thee, and to thy litle fellow Ants,
Now none of you vnder that burthen pants.
Loe for Example, I my selfe, poore wormes,
That haue out-worne the rage of Tereus stormes:
Am euer blest now in this downy shape,
From all mans Trechery, or soule-melting Rape:
And when I sing Tereu, Tereu,
Through euery Towne, and so renew
The name of Tereus, slaues through feares,
With guilty Fingers bolt their eares:
All rauishers do raue, and e'en fall mad,
And then such wrongd soules as my selfe are glad.
That haue out-worne the rage of Tereus stormes:
Am euer blest now in this downy shape,
From all mans Trechery, or soule-melting Rape:
And when I sing Tereu, Tereu,
Through euery Towne, and so renew
The name of Tereus, slaues through feares,
With guilty Fingers bolt their eares:
All rauishers do raue, and e'en fall mad,
And then such wrongd soules as my selfe are glad.
So thou small wretch and all thy Nest,
Are in those litle bodies blest;
Not taxt beyond your poore degree,
With Landlords Fine, and Lawyers Fee.
But tell me prety-toiling worme,
Did that same Plough-mans weary forme
Discourage thee so much from others,
That neither thou, nor those thy brothers,
In borrowed shapes durst once agen
Venture amongst perfidious men,
Are in those litle bodies blest;
Not taxt beyond your poore degree,
With Landlords Fine, and Lawyers Fee.
Did that same Plough-mans weary forme
Discourage thee so much from others,
That neither thou, nor those thy brothers,
In borrowed shapes durst once agen
Venture amongst perfidious men,
Yet Lady, the poore Ant replied,
I left not so, but then I tried
Wars sweating Fortunes, not alone
Condemning rash all states for one,
Vntill I found by proofe, and knew by course,
That one was bad, but all the rest were worse.
Nightingale.
I left not so, but then I tried
Wars sweating Fortunes, not alone
Condemning rash all states for one,
Vntill I found by proofe, and knew by course,
That one was bad, but all the rest were worse.
Didst thou put on a rugged Souldier then?
A happie state, because thou fought'st gainst men?
Prethee discourse, thy fortunes, state and harmes,
Thou wast no doubt, A mighty man at Armes?
| The Ant and the Nightingale | |