University of Virginia Library

The second Eglogue. Why art thou sad (fair Shepherdess)

Thenot, and Amarillis.
Then.
Why art thou sad (fair Shepherdess) and so
Fil'st Heaven with sighs of hidden inward wo?
What is the reason that in thy fresh years
Thou drown'st thy lovely cheeks with showers of tears,
Withering the Roses that did flourish there,
And pal'st thy youthful blood with heavy chear?
Behold the long expected Spring is come,
And joyful Birds are now no longer dumbe:
They every Grove that is do make a Quire,
Chirping in them the layes of their desire.
Our Lads and Lasses that in winter were
Drowsie like the dull season of the year,
Are merry now, and (upon all the Downs)
Kindly receive, and kindly give green Gowns.
Onely our Amarillis fain'st of all
Mourns like a follower of a Funeral:
What is the cause? for I would gladly know
If it such sorrow doth deserve, or no.

Amar.
Ah Thenot, reverenc't for thy hoary hair,
Of all the Shepherds that amongst us are!
To thee the soon'st I would unload my minde,
That art in Counsel wise, in pity kinde,
Wise, to advise me if I do amiss,
And pitiful, to rue my wretchedness:
Know I have cause to weep, as long as I
Have any moisture left in either eye,
To tear off every hair from off my head,
And rage impatiently till I am dead.
O my Credulity! That did suppose
There could be faith in any Lovers oathes!

Then.
Then tis for love that Amarillis thus
Disconsolately liveth here with us:
But which of all our Boyes is so unwise
To slight a Beauty of so rich a price?

Amar.
Knew'st thou not Thyrsis, that had wont to keep
On yonder Hill a jolly flock of Sheep,
Who all the while they on the banks did feed,
Play'd merry tunes upon his Oaten reed?
Such songs as Alta highly did esteem,
And for their quaintness was in love with him;
The Daughter of rich Ionius, who was
Took with his pipe, like many an other Lass.
But then my Shepherd all the rest did slight,
And in my beauty onely did delight,
He did not care for all her wealth, and (tho
She was an hansome Wench) would never wo;
For such Command I then had of his heart,
That I did think he never could depart:
Which being known, his angry Father sent
Him out of Arcadie in discontent;
That being far remov'd, and forth of sight
He might forget his Amarillis quite.
And so I hear he hath; and yet he swore
Absence should make his love not less, but more.
Ah, perjur'd man! He faithless and untrue,
Hath falsly slighted me, and took a new.
O Thenot! Couldst thou think that Thyrsis, he
That made such vows would ever faithless be?
His vows had he broke onely, it had bin
A pardonable and a venial Sin:
Thenot! can men weep like a Crocodile?
Have they their tears so ready to beguile?
He wept when we did part as much as I,
And now is guilty of such perjury.

Then.
Sad Amarillis, though I know thy youth
Cannot sustain the breach of Lovers truth
Without Impatiency (For women when
They bear affection seldom change like men)
Yet know (in you) 'twere wisdom to remove
Your heart from him that hath so fail'd in love.

Amar.
Ere I can leave my Thyrsis, Thenot, know
I must want life; when I do backward go,
Just Jove revenge my falshood; I will be
True as I was, though he hath slighted me;
Know honest Thenot that I am not Wind,
When I have setled once, to change my minde;
When I prove false, Thou glorious Guide of day,
Change East and West, and run another way;
And thou pale-horned Queen of night constrain
The Sea to dulness, neither wax nor wane;
The pleasant Ladon first shall change his Course,
And every River run back to the Source;
The fixed Stars weary of standing shall
Amaze Astrologers, be Planets all:
And toil'd Bootes (tired with his pain)
Leave travel off, and fix his sevenfold Wain.

Then.
Be comforted (sweet Lass) For sure when he
Returns again, again he will love thee.

Amar.
Thenot, could I expect but so much good,
I here would live as merry as I cood,
And to our rural Pan each night and morn
Make faithful Orisons for his Return.

Then.
Trust me (young Amarillis) I have no
Doubt of him; but am sure it will be so:
An honest man may fall, and yet may be
Not ever in his fault; neither will he.
When he returns and finds that you have bin
True unto him, ashamed of his Sin,
His former faith he will renew, and more
Love Amarillis then he lov'd before.

Amar.
Thanks (gentle Thenot) for these words of joy,
Poor Amarillis to her Fortunes try,
And (if that me you ever thankless find)
Banish my name for ever from your minde:
Thy Speeches have rais'd hope he wil come back,
And me again into his favour take;
And that on Holy-days (when all the Rout
Do sport the medows and the fields about,
(Crowning with Garlands her that Dances best,
Making her Mistress of our Country-Feast)
With showing Gambals on the dazy Green
And eating Chees-cakes with our Summer Queen)
I with my Shepherd (among th'others) shall
Dance many a merry Jig, and many a Brall:
For since my Thyrsis from Arcadia went,
I solitary have liv'd discontent;
When others have been playing, have sat down
And moystned wth my tears the Sun-burnt ground.

Then.
But leave such sadness (Amarillis) now
And unto us thy Company allow;
For I dare lay the best Lamb I have here,
He shortly will return, and love thee deare.

Amar.
My thanks again, good Thenot; Ever be
Belov'd of Pan for comforting of me.

Then.
And may our rural God (fair Shepherdess)
Thee with fruition of thy Wishes bless.

Amar.
I have no other wish but that my Swain
Would come to us, and be mine own again.
Happy the day when we by Ladon side
Eat Cream, and kisses mutually enjoyde:
And happy were those Nights, when on his knee
He by the Fire side did dandle me!
How often as we sat so hath thy Son
Thy Billy Thenot to th'old Woman run,
For apples to make Lambs-wooll! Never more
We two shall drink as we have drunk before.
But far more happy were those days of note,
When we from Mantin did live far remote,
In thy kind Cottage, when I did not know
What 'twas to love and be forsaken so;
There I have sung, and laugh'd, & laugh'd, & song,
And been as merry as the day was long;
But since my Thyrsis hath both woed, and won me,
And so forgotten me, he hath undon me.

Then.
We should have something to divert this thought;
For Melancholy (Shepherdess) is naught.
I hope that now we very shortly shall
Hear on our Green that pleasant Pastorall,
Which (of an Obstinate Lass) young Coridon,
Thy love-sick Brother did write long agon;
Which Tityrus his faithful Friend approv'd,
A Shepherd for his able parts belov'd.

Amar.
When it is song I will not fail to hear
For Coridons sake, whom I do love so dear;
To me that Pastoral he oft hath said,
While both our neighbor-flocks have fed, & plaid;
And (honest Thenot) many sundry times
I unto him have read my Thyrsis rimes,
Wherein he prais'd me above woman-kind;
And little did I think those Words were winde.
But those few happy days are past, and now
Sad care sits always heavy on my brow.
Ere Thyrsis went none danc'd so much as I,
None laugh'd so chearfully, none did enjoy
So many nights of joy, and days of bliss;
And all because I thought that I was his:
And if (when he returns again) he will
Receive his long-forsaken Amarill,
The Lamb, which best of all my Flock I prize,
Unto our rural Pan I'le sacrifice.

Then.
Fair Shepherdess, be confident ere long
He will return, and quit him of the wrong
That he hath don himself, increasing so
His former love that you no end shall know.
Tis time to fould our Flocks: For we have sat
So long a talking that it is grown late.

Amar.
Thenot, Goodnight! And thanks for thy kind stay,
Heaven prosper thee long to Arcadia:
For, if that thou, and some few more should die,
Our Countery soon the Pastoral Muse would flie.