 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
66
[A neighbor mine not long agoe there was]
A neighbor
mine not long agoe there was,
(But namelesse he, for blamelesse he shall be)
That married had a trick and bonny lasse
As in a sommer day a man might see:
But he himselfe a foule unhansome groome,
And farre unfit to hold so good a roome.
(But namelesse he, for blamelesse he shall be)
That married had a trick and bonny lasse
As in a sommer day a man might see:
But he himselfe a foule unhansome groome,
And farre unfit to hold so good a roome.
Now whether mov'd with selfe unworthines,
Or with her beawtie fit to make a pray,
Fell jealousie did so his braine oppresse,
That if he absent were but halfe a day,
He gest the worst (you wot what is the worst)
And in himselfe new doubting causes nurst.
Or with her beawtie fit to make a pray,
Fell jealousie did so his braine oppresse,
That if he absent were but halfe a day,
He gest the worst (you wot what is the worst)
And in himselfe new doubting causes nurst.
While thus he fear'd the silly innocent,
Who yet was good, because she knewe none ill,
Unto his house a jollie shepeheard went,
To whome our prince did beare a great good will,
Because in wrestling and in pastorall
He farre did passe the rest of Shepheards all.
Who yet was good, because she knewe none ill,
Unto his house a jollie shepeheard went,
To whome our prince did beare a great good will,
Because in wrestling and in pastorall
He farre did passe the rest of Shepheards all.
And therefore he a courtier was benamed,
And as a courtier was with cheere receaved,
(For they have toongs to make a poore man blamed.
If he to them his dutie misconceaved)
And for this Courtier should well like his table,
The goodman bad his wife be serviceable.
And as a courtier was with cheere receaved,
(For they have toongs to make a poore man blamed.
If he to them his dutie misconceaved)
And for this Courtier should well like his table,
The goodman bad his wife be serviceable.
67
And so she was, and all with good intent,
But fewe dayes past while she good maner us'de,
But that her husband thought her service bent
To such an end as he might be abus'de.
Yet like a coward fearing strangers pride,
He made the simple wench his wrath abide.
But fewe dayes past while she good maner us'de,
But that her husband thought her service bent
To such an end as he might be abus'de.
Yet like a coward fearing strangers pride,
He made the simple wench his wrath abide.
With chumpish lookes, hard words, and secret nips,
Grumbling at her when she his kindnes sought,
Asking her how she tasted Courtiers lips,
He forst her thinke that which she never thought.
In fine he made her gesse, there was some sweet
In that which he so fear'd that she should meet.
Grumbling at her when she his kindnes sought,
Asking her how she tasted Courtiers lips,
He forst her thinke that which she never thought.
In fine he made her gesse, there was some sweet
In that which he so fear'd that she should meet.
When once this entred was, in womans hart,
And that it had enflam'd a new desire,
There rested then, to play a womans part,
Fuell to seeke and not to quench the fire:
But (for his jealous eye she well did finde)
She studied cunning how the same to blinde.
And that it had enflam'd a new desire,
There rested then, to play a womans part,
Fuell to seeke and not to quench the fire:
But (for his jealous eye she well did finde)
She studied cunning how the same to blinde.
And thus she did. One day to him she came,
And (though against his will) on him she leand,
And out gan cry, ah well away for shame,
If you helpe not our wedlocke will be staind,
The goodman starting, askt what did her move?
She sigh'd and sayd, the bad guest sought her love.
And (though against his will) on him she leand,
And out gan cry, ah well away for shame,
If you helpe not our wedlocke will be staind,
The goodman starting, askt what did her move?
She sigh'd and sayd, the bad guest sought her love.
He little looking that she should complaine
Of that, whereto he feard she was enclinde,
Bussing her oft, and in his hart full faine,
He did demaunde what remedy to finde;
How they might get that guest, from them to wend,
And yet the prince (that lov'd him) not offend.
Of that, whereto he feard she was enclinde,
Bussing her oft, and in his hart full faine,
He did demaunde what remedy to finde;
How they might get that guest, from them to wend,
And yet the prince (that lov'd him) not offend.
Husband, quoth she, go to him by and by,
And tell him you do finde I doo him love,
And therefore pray him that of courtesie
He will absent himselfe, least he should move
A young girles hart, to that were shame for both,
Whereto you knowe, his honest harte were loath.
And tell him you do finde I doo him love,
And therefore pray him that of courtesie
He will absent himselfe, least he should move
A young girles hart, to that were shame for both,
Whereto you knowe, his honest harte were loath.
68
Thus shall you show that him you do not doubt,
And as for me (sweete husband) I must beare.
Glad was the man when he had heard her out,
And did the same, although with mickle feare.
For feare he did, least he the young man might
In choller put, with whom he would not fight.
And as for me (sweete husband) I must beare.
Glad was the man when he had heard her out,
And did the same, although with mickle feare.
For feare he did, least he the young man might
In choller put, with whom he would not fight.
The Courtlie shepheard much agast at this,
Not seeing earst such token in the wife,
Though full of scorne, would not his duty misse,
Knowing that evill becommes a houshold strife,
Did goe his way, but sojourn'd neere thereby,
That yet the ground hereof he might espie.
Not seeing earst such token in the wife,
Though full of scorne, would not his duty misse,
Knowing that evill becommes a houshold strife,
Did goe his way, but sojourn'd neere thereby,
That yet the ground hereof he might espie.
The wife thus having settled husbands braine,
Who would have sworne his spowse Diana was,
Watched when she a furder point might gaine,
Which little time did fitlie bring to passe.
For to the Courte her man was calld by name,
Whither he needes must goe for feare of blame.
Who would have sworne his spowse Diana was,
Watched when she a furder point might gaine,
Which little time did fitlie bring to passe.
For to the Courte her man was calld by name,
Whither he needes must goe for feare of blame.
Three dayes before that he must sure depart,
She written had (but in a hand disguisde)
A letter such which might from either part
Seeme to proceede, so well it was devisde.
She seald it first, then she the sealing brake,
And to her jealous husband did it take.
She written had (but in a hand disguisde)
A letter such which might from either part
Seeme to proceede, so well it was devisde.
She seald it first, then she the sealing brake,
And to her jealous husband did it take.
With weeping eyes (her eyes she taught to weepe)
She told him that the Courtier had it sent:
Alas, quoth she, thus womens shame doth creepe.
The goodman read on both sides the content,
It title had, Unto my only love,
Subscription was, Yours most, if you will prove.
She told him that the Courtier had it sent:
Alas, quoth she, thus womens shame doth creepe.
The goodman read on both sides the content,
It title had, Unto my only love,
Subscription was, Yours most, if you will prove.
The pistle selfe, such kinde of wordes it had,
My sweetest joy, the comfort of my sprite,
So may thy flockes encrease thy deere hart glad,
So may each thing, even as thou wishest lighte,
As thou wilt deigne to reade and gentlie reede
This mourning inck, in which my hart doth bleede.
My sweetest joy, the comfort of my sprite,
So may thy flockes encrease thy deere hart glad,
So may each thing, even as thou wishest lighte,
As thou wilt deigne to reade and gentlie reede
This mourning inck, in which my hart doth bleede.
69
Long have I lov'd, (alas thou worthy arte)
Long have I lov'd, (alas love craveth love)
Long have I lov'd thy selfe, alas my harte
Doth breake, now toong unto thy name doth move,
And thinke not that thy answere answere is,
But that it is my doome of bale or blisse.
Long have I lov'd, (alas love craveth love)
Long have I lov'd thy selfe, alas my harte
Doth breake, now toong unto thy name doth move,
And thinke not that thy answere answere is,
But that it is my doome of bale or blisse.
The jealous wretch must now to Courte be gone:
Ne can he faile, for prince hath for him sent:
Now is the time we may be here alone,
And geve a long desire a sweet content.
Thus shall you both reward a lover true,
And eke revenge his wrong suspecting you.
Ne can he faile, for prince hath for him sent:
Now is the time we may be here alone,
And geve a long desire a sweet content.
Thus shall you both reward a lover true,
And eke revenge his wrong suspecting you.
And this was all, and this the husband read
With chafe enough, till she him pacified:
Desiring, that no griefe in him he bread
Now that he had her words so truely tried:
But that he would, to him the letter show
That with his fault he might her goodnes know.
With chafe enough, till she him pacified:
Desiring, that no griefe in him he bread
Now that he had her words so truely tried:
But that he would, to him the letter show
That with his fault he might her goodnes know.
That streight was done with many a boistrous threat,
That to the King, he would his sinne declare,
But now the Courtier gan to smell the feate,
And with some words which shewed little care,
He stayd untill the goodman was departed,
Then gave he him the blow which never smarted.
That to the King, he would his sinne declare,
But now the Courtier gan to smell the feate,
And with some words which shewed little care,
He stayd untill the goodman was departed,
Then gave he him the blow which never smarted.
Thus may you see, the jealous wretch was made
The Pandare of the thing, he most did feare,
Take heed therefore, how you ensue that trade,
Least the same markes of jealousie you beare.
For sure, no jealousie can that prevent,
Whereto two parties once be full content.
The Pandare of the thing, he most did feare,
Take heed therefore, how you ensue that trade,
Least the same markes of jealousie you beare.
For sure, no jealousie can that prevent,
Whereto two parties once be full content.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |