Pastorals Viz. The Bashful Swain: And Beauty and Simplicity. By Mr. Purney |
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Beauty
and
Simplicity.
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| II. |
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Beauty and Simplicity.
PASTORAL the Second.
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ARGUMENT TO Pastoral II.
Soflin, as she is cropping Florets by the River Eden, and singing to her self, spy's Paplet, in tears, come tow'rd her. She meet's her in a tender way, soft dry's her Cheeks, and ask's her Ail. But the Mey will give her only just to know, that she loved a Swain she might not love. Yet, if he has as tender a Thought of her, no reason remain'd for the making it a Secret. Soflin, if so, must hear it soon; and it might mayhap be so related as to show young Paplet in a faulty View. Wherefore she win's Soflin to walk along the Banks of Eden, to a secret Retirement, with a Promise, that there she would open her Heart. The shades of Eve hie on; they trip to the Retirement; and lay 'em on the Flowers. There the Mey recount's the Carriage of the Lad she lov'd; and Soflin, from the several Instances, declare's, he lov'd. Then doe's the generous Mey cry out, 'Tis Colly loves and is belov'd! Just then, by chance, that Swain came singing and floyting o're the Green. He spy's the Lasses, and make's up to 'em. They fly to the Shelter of the Brakes and Bushes. Colly follows; and catches Paplet (Paplet alas was left) as she was getting over a running Water; which Soflin leapt, as Hind the Hedges. After much while he wins the gentle Mey to let and chat aside the Stream. Then come's Soflin back, and walk's round and round 'em unseen, in the utmost Uneasiness, till the Shepherd goe's. Then she steps to Paplet; and saying, 'Tis done! a lasting Farewel now to Colly ! gives her a Bracelet she had received of the Swain, and wishe's her more happiness in his Love, than had been her fortune to enjoy.
[Scene I.]
Soflin.
Ah pretty! What Flowr's this? A Dew-cup 'tis.
Oh me! how meny Hues it has!
This Streak's the Colour of my Colly's Hair!
This of his Neck! I'll kiss't how'ere.
Oh me! how meny Hues it has!
This Streak's the Colour of my Colly's Hair!
This of his Neck! I'll kiss't how'ere.
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Of the Swains there is Cubbin and Florey;
Cubbin can Kiss and can tell a kind Story;
And Florey is blith and wild as the Wind;
But oh, say's my Heart, there's Another behind!
Cubbin can Kiss and can tell a kind Story;
And Florey is blith and wild as the Wind;
But oh, say's my Heart, there's Another behind!
Take me, soft Grass! here soft I mean to set:
How meny Violets! O how sweet!
My face shall fall emong 'em; wicked Flow'r!
What wet me? Sure you've Honey store!
Now sooth this Braham is a pleasant Place!
As fine and fair as Lonon Lass!
How meny Violets! O how sweet!
My face shall fall emong 'em; wicked Flow'r!
What wet me? Sure you've Honey store!
Now sooth this Braham is a pleasant Place!
As fine and fair as Lonon Lass!
My Heart's on the Hills and the Heaths with the Wind,
Hei! Ho! simple Heart!
The start it has got of the Hart and the Hind,
Oh hapless, hapless Start!
Hei! Ho! simple Heart!
The start it has got of the Hart and the Hind,
Oh hapless, hapless Start!
O Spring! sweet Spring! welcome, thou gentlest Spring!
Welcom ye Birds, that soft gin Sing!
O May! thou fairest Month! all-welcome too!
You dainty make the Daisies grow!
Colly like's this Flow'r: By your leave, Sweet Flow'r!
You must drop in my Breast, all o're!
Welcom ye Birds, that soft gin Sing!
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You dainty make the Daisies grow!
Colly like's this Flow'r: By your leave, Sweet Flow'r!
You must drop in my Breast, all o're!
Colly's pretty as 'ere Lad was pretty;
Friskie as Fairie, Well-hearted and Witty.
For when he sate by me and call'd me his Sweet,
His dainty white Bosom I could'nt help hit!
Friskie as Fairie, Well-hearted and Witty.
For when he sate by me and call'd me his Sweet,
His dainty white Bosom I could'nt help hit!
How now? What can't you keep, ye flirting Flower,
Emong my Hair? I'll plait ye more.—
But soft me! Sure that's Paplet's tender Step!
Poor little Dear, it seems to weep!
Emong my Hair? I'll plait ye more.—
But soft me! Sure that's Paplet's tender Step!
Poor little Dear, it seems to weep!
SOFLIN. PAPLET.
Soflin.
Ah now, for pity! who has harm'd poor heart?
And are they could give Mey to smart?
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Ne pretty finger put in Eye!
Paplet.
What do'st? Think whom thou holdest to thy Breast!
May't not be One that spoils thy rest?
Soflin.
Hold thee a-whit, Sweet Dear! let wipen face!
Thy face, Sweet Dear, is wet alas!
Look at yon Lark; how't chirp's! thy Grief forgo!
This pretty face won't made for Woe!
Paplet.
Knew'st thou, O Soflin, knew'st thou all it's shame,
I fear thoud'st find some harsher Name.
Soflin.
What meanest, pretty Paplet? Prethee tell.
O I can't bear to see thee wail!
Come, set thee on these Violets so sweet;
A-neath this shady Maple set!
See that young-bird! how't fliggaring stands; how glad,
Before the Mother to be fed!
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With Footen! how they're happy now!
Paplet.
Yes pretty Fools, they're happy. Happy sure!
No Ill to know, no Harm to fear.
Feed gentle Creatures! now feed sweetly on!
Feed sweet when Paplet's Day is done!
Soflin.
What meanest Mey? Now by this beating breast,
I charge thee speak out thy Unrest!
Paplet.
Ah worse the while! thy gentle heart would break
To hear the whole that I can speak!
Soflin.
No, but I'll bear, a thousand Ills I'll bear!
If Ills can come from one so Dear.
Paplet.
A Lad I love; all earthly things ebove!
The loveliest Lad, Lass 'ere did love.
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As long, and lasting, may fly me.
For Oh! He is Another's! Her's, to who
A wrong, I'd rather dye, than do!
Soflin.
Ah luckless Lass! poor luckless, hapless Lass!
But love's he thee too, may ye guess?
Paplet.
That would I know, and then all undone.
And that thou't tell, if any One.
If be thou weenest, Lass, he loves me, then
Alone I may not ha' my pain.
If be thou weenest that, O then I may
Tell all that ever I can say!
Soflin.
Let hearen how he hath him, when with thee;
And as I ween, so will I say.
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Oh, but I shame, all for a Swain, I fear,
May skulk a-hind this Hedge and hear.
Isne here Braham-Green? And there so sweet
The Swains and Bonnibells do meet,
To dance, and play, and getten Florets fair,
To weave in Chaplets, or their Hair.
Soflin.
He! He! And fearest thou, thou gentle Heart!
Why who so gentle Heart should hurt?
Paplet.
But yet, if be thou rather art, my Dear,
We'll walk elong the Eden here.
Not far away there is the sweetest Seat!
There Eden and the Medway meet!
Ne can come any, save afore, ynigh;
And sure we any so may see.
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Upleaping light, elong the Medway's side
The silkie-footen Lasses hied.
There, sweet the Shade was; gentle there the Breeze;
Soft on the May-boughs sate the Bees.
The Lasses Air-wove Vestures flutter fair,
And sprinkle Sweets thro' ev'ry Breer.
The silkie-footen Lasses hied.
There, sweet the Shade was; gentle there the Breeze;
Soft on the May-boughs sate the Bees.
The Lasses Air-wove Vestures flutter fair,
And sprinkle Sweets thro' ev'ry Breer.
Anon the Sun gin's set, and stain the Sky,
And glister on the brook abie.
See yon fair Cloud! (the fairer Soflin cry'd)
As Pap a waving Brier spy'd.
See yon sweet Breer! (the Mey more sweetly said)
As Leaves, with gentle Air, off-fled.
And glister on the brook abie.
See yon fair Cloud! (the fairer Soflin cry'd)
As Pap a waving Brier spy'd.
See yon sweet Breer! (the Mey more sweetly said)
As Leaves, with gentle Air, off-fled.
Strait, runing came a little Kid abie;
The prettiest Kid! I wonder why?
Twould hide it's little head 'mong Paplet's Cloaths;
And gentle bite 'em as she goe's.
May seem it had been bred up by some Lass;
And now turn'd out, on Green to graze.
For long it follow'd her; Ne would away;
But oft 'twould run afore and play.
The prettiest Kid! I wonder why?
Twould hide it's little head 'mong Paplet's Cloaths;
And gentle bite 'em as she goe's.
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And now turn'd out, on Green to graze.
For long it follow'd her; Ne would away;
But oft 'twould run afore and play.
A little Wet there was; the Mey doth stand,
And stoop's to take her Vest in hand.
To lick it went the Kid; She start's away;
I-Fay, poor fool, it frighted Me!
And stoop's to take her Vest in hand.
To lick it went the Kid; She start's away;
I-Fay, poor fool, it frighted Me!
Thus, soft as Thrushe's tongue the Lasses trip:
Their airy Vests the Florets sweep.
And now they are, where sweet the Air they see
On both the Streams so pretty play.
At Pebbles reppeling and tedded Grass,
The Medway ran along apace.
The gentle Eden's waves, as breezes fan'd,
Dashing fast splash'd the slabb'ry land.
Their airy Vests the Florets sweep.
And now they are, where sweet the Air they see
On both the Streams so pretty play.
At Pebbles reppeling and tedded Grass,
The Medway ran along apace.
The gentle Eden's waves, as breezes fan'd,
Dashing fast splash'd the slabb'ry land.
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The easy-faring Fish sweet wandered
All in the Wet, and sweetly plai'd.
He! He! the tender-tongued Paplet, cry's;
To see the little Fish catch Flys.
So merry lookt they, whenso came in sight;
You'd said they were asham'd of light!
To see 'em fled the Mew and Diedapper,
And thought themselves so happy there!
Glist'ring in th' Sun, they skim the top all-fair;
Then scowr away ev'n flit as Air.
All in the Wet, and sweetly plai'd.
He! He! the tender-tongued Paplet, cry's;
To see the little Fish catch Flys.
So merry lookt they, whenso came in sight;
You'd said they were asham'd of light!
To see 'em fled the Mew and Diedapper,
And thought themselves so happy there!
Glist'ring in th' Sun, they skim the top all-fair;
Then scowr away ev'n flit as Air.
SCENE II.
The Corner of a Meadow; made by the Eden's runing into the Medway.
Soft, as a Lover's Sighs, and sweet to see,
As smiling Mouth of pretty Mey;
Their lovely Limbs the Lasses fair out-spread,
All on the softness of the Mead.
As smiling Mouth of pretty Mey;
Their lovely Limbs the Lasses fair out-spread,
All on the softness of the Mead.
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The Evening breeze (ah happy Evening breeze!)
Sweet with their honey-hair yplay's.
Breath'd on their Necks, and in their bosoms went,
I-faith I can but think upon't!
Sweet with their honey-hair yplay's.
Breath'd on their Necks, and in their bosoms went,
I-faith I can but think upon't!
As fair atween the Streams they sate, the Mey
In Soflie's lap elong did lay.
See, (quoth the little Heart) that Swan so fair!
'T has caught a Fish! will't bring it here?
See! it come's close! O pretty, do but see!
I'll lay this Flower it's fair as thee!
In Soflie's lap elong did lay.
See, (quoth the little Heart) that Swan so fair!
'T has caught a Fish! will't bring it here?
See! it come's close! O pretty, do but see!
I'll lay this Flower it's fair as thee!
She said. The while, the tender-touching Air,
Flutter'd the Florets out her Hair.
With Pancet, Perewincle, and Dew-cup,
Sweetly her Hair was braided up.
But sprinkled now around 'em lay the Flowers,
Lovely as fall of Summer Showers.
Thus on the tender bank their Limbs out-lain
The Lasses now gin chat agen.
Soflin.
Flutter'd the Florets out her Hair.
With Pancet, Perewincle, and Dew-cup,
Sweetly her Hair was braided up.
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Lovely as fall of Summer Showers.
Thus on the tender bank their Limbs out-lain
The Lasses now gin chat agen.
There, let the Kid lye quiet, Child! twill lay
All in thy Lap, ne troble thee.
So, give me now to know the Stripling's way,
And I will guess if loveth thee.
Paplet.
I have, to hide from heat, a balmie Bowr
With meney a Floret shaded 'ore.
In it's a Rose-heap, soft as Linnet's lip;
There loose I lay my Limbs to sleep.
At Eve he'll come, and call me to the Grove;
And hold me as I were his Love.
Arise my Dove! my Fair One! See the shade
Come's on; the Linnets tongue is laid!
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And smiling would by-hang the head.
There in the Moonshine by a Spring We sate:
O Me! Methought it was so sweet!
Soflin.
He love's I-Fay! Now lean upon me thus:
Thou never yet has lean'd thee thus!
Paplet.
Oh, but he once did, what I well do ween,
Can never come from loving Swain!
Early, 'ere Day gan dawn, the pert-lim'd He
Out-hi'd o're Hills and Heaths to stray.
When home he came, all-weary as I ween,
Soft-smiling ran I to the Swain.
(Sooth, Soflin! I'd not doen so now'ere,
But was so joy'd, could not forbear!)
But he, (ah harmful he!) soon as he see's,
So eager in his Arms doth squeeze,
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For why, he pull'd so hard to's Breast!
Then shov'd agen his Cheek too (more the moan!)
My Lip, that sooth I well'y swoon!
Did'st 'ere know like a-fore? Now well I ween
I ne're knew like! what might he mean?
Soflin.
Hard is to say; in sooth I well'y weet,
There be but little Love, my Sweet!
But would he come to see but once a-day?
A Lover live's by Sight, they say.
Paplet.
Oftner. With Sweet-breer Roses soft, a Shade
Anear his Cote for Me he made.
My Hand a-tween his Hands he'd tender take,
And lead Me to the gentle Brake.
Daintily ran, ne rattled a-whitt,
Abie, a little Rivulett.
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He! He! 'Twas pretty, by my Fay!
He'd sprinkle Violets in my Bosom then;
But I made pick 'em out agen!
Soflin.
Thou never had'st, I ween, my Gentle Lass,
Mishap might make him love the less?
Paplet.
Alas! such hap I had (ah Wo-away!)
I'll tell the Tale at length to thee.
I'll tell the Tale at length to thee.
Once came he, (in a Dale I lay elong)
As lith he came as Linnet's tongue.
One Holy-Eve, I well remember, 'twas;
Wo't go to th' Grove, quoth he, my Lass?
As lith he came as Linnet's tongue.
One Holy-Eve, I well remember, 'twas;
Wo't go to th' Grove, quoth he, my Lass?
The Stripling deckt in Silkie Green all 'ore,
As sweet as May or Bird in Bowr,
Prickt on by Youth and prime of Lustihed,
A-thwart the Hills and Heaths ystray'd.
The Quicks, up-springing, leap't he with his Spear;
Flying his Vest, his Bosom bare.
As sweet as May or Bird in Bowr,
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A-thwart the Hills and Heaths ystray'd.
The Quicks, up-springing, leap't he with his Spear;
Flying his Vest, his Bosom bare.
With him I went (ah with him why went I?)
For oh, the rest I shame to say!
Strait, as we chac'd the limber-leged Hare,
A-mid the Brambles of a Breer,
I, heedless, one Leg hamper'd, that my Cloaths
(O sad to say!) 'bove Foot arose.
The Swain my Stockin hid; then loos'd my Shoe.
Had but two Kisses; ask'd but two!
For oh, the rest I shame to say!
Strait, as we chac'd the limber-leged Hare,
A-mid the Brambles of a Breer,
I, heedless, one Leg hamper'd, that my Cloaths
(O sad to say!) 'bove Foot arose.
The Swain my Stockin hid; then loos'd my Shoe.
Had but two Kisses; ask'd but two!
Soflin.
Hard hap, my gentle Lass, I have to hear!
Yet small to make him leave his Dear.
Don't taken that best Flow'r, my pretty Pap!
And I'll tell what to me did hap.
Yet small to make him leave his Dear.
Don't taken that best Flow'r, my pretty Pap!
And I'll tell what to me did hap.
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Once lay my Love, I faith! as lovely lay,
As Fawn soft licking it on Lea.
Fresh breezes o're his tender Features stale,
For oh, 'twas in a flowerie Vale!
I had been hunting, and by hap came by,
With Bow and Quiver, where he lay.
The Flowers of the Vale I cropt anigh,
And soft ysprinkled on the Boy;
When oh, he wak'd (small weeting as I was)
He wak'd to see his blushing Lass.
But still he lov'd me; lov'd me, Paplet, yet!
And still thy Lad doth Love I weet.
Then say me now the Swain, my gentle Mey
If be he lov'd, thou was't to say.
As Fawn soft licking it on Lea.
Fresh breezes o're his tender Features stale,
For oh, 'twas in a flowerie Vale!
I had been hunting, and by hap came by,
With Bow and Quiver, where he lay.
The Flowers of the Vale I cropt anigh,
And soft ysprinkled on the Boy;
When oh, he wak'd (small weeting as I was)
He wak'd to see his blushing Lass.
But still he lov'd me; lov'd me, Paplet, yet!
And still thy Lad doth Love I weet.
Then say me now the Swain, my gentle Mey
If be he lov'd, thou was't to say.
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Oft did the gentle Paplet raise her head,
To tell; as oft, asham'd and 'fraid,
Drop'd it agen on Soflies bosom low;
And call'd her, softly call'd her, Foe!
To tell; as oft, asham'd and 'fraid,
Drop'd it agen on Soflies bosom low;
And call'd her, softly call'd her, Foe!
Then Soflin, (taking her in tender Arms)
Sure thou may'st tell a Friend thy harms!
Paplet there turn'd her head, to cough, as feign'd,
But blush'd in sooth, at Name of Friend.
Not yet did Soflie leave, but askt agen;
When she, (with head in bosom lain)
O! did I Soflin hate, and Soflin Me,
One had been happy as the Day!
Sure thou may'st tell a Friend thy harms!
Paplet there turn'd her head, to cough, as feign'd,
But blush'd in sooth, at Name of Friend.
Not yet did Soflie leave, but askt agen;
When she, (with head in bosom lain)
O! did I Soflin hate, and Soflin Me,
One had been happy as the Day!
Thus far the Lass not ween'd what meant the Mey;
Tho' sooth it easy was to see!
Where now's the free, the pretty Way where now,
Pap ever us'd to Soflie show?
Tho' sooth it easy was to see!
Where now's the free, the pretty Way where now,
Pap ever us'd to Soflie show?
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Rarely she call'd her, Dear; and when she did,
It came at unawares, you'd said.
And if she graspt her hand, All-faint it was;
While blushes bore she in her face.
Then Soflie askt what Age he had, what Face?
He's like to Colly cry'd the Lass.
So as she said, the Tears soft-showering fell;
I-sooth! it make's me cry to tell!
It came at unawares, you'd said.
And if she graspt her hand, All-faint it was;
While blushes bore she in her face.
Then Soflie askt what Age he had, what Face?
He's like to Colly cry'd the Lass.
So as she said, the Tears soft-showering fell;
I-sooth! it make's me cry to tell!
But Soflie now more eager grew to know,
Her Hand she seiz'd, Ne would let go.
The Swain, (quoth Pap,) that love's with me to dally,
The Swain is, for his Name 'tis, Colly.
Her Hand she seiz'd, Ne would let go.
The Swain, (quoth Pap,) that love's with me to dally,
The Swain is, for his Name 'tis, Colly.
She said. That instant, as she said,
Colly came triping 'ore the Mead.
Leapt he, and floited, Jolly as the Day;
His Way it was (oh merry Way!)
His Eye he cast where soft these sitting were;
O Me! why sure my Paplet's there!
Soon as the pert-Eye Lasses saw the Swain
Trip to 'em ore the rosie Plain;
They fled away, as flitt as any Roe;
He! He! cry'd he, What's matter now?
Their fluttering Hair, and Vests yblown with Breeze,
Soft scatter Sweets emong the Trees.
All Way their rosie-plaited Locks the Ground
Sprinkled with Flow'rs that flew around.
But sure, had you but Paplet seen! sweet Fon,
'Twas cast; but oh, how't scrabbled on!
Colly came triping 'ore the Mead.
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His Way it was (oh merry Way!)
His Eye he cast where soft these sitting were;
O Me! why sure my Paplet's there!
Soon as the pert-Eye Lasses saw the Swain
Trip to 'em ore the rosie Plain;
They fled away, as flitt as any Roe;
He! He! cry'd he, What's matter now?
Their fluttering Hair, and Vests yblown with Breeze,
Soft scatter Sweets emong the Trees.
All Way their rosie-plaited Locks the Ground
Sprinkled with Flow'rs that flew around.
But sure, had you but Paplet seen! sweet Fon,
'Twas cast; but oh, how't scrabbled on!
Strait, they a little Streamulet came to;
Soflie leapt o're like airy Roe.
But what must now the little-legged Lass!
It yearning stand's; how should it pass?
Soflie leapt o're like airy Roe.
But what must now the little-legged Lass!
It yearning stand's; how should it pass?
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All thro' the rosie Breers, poor heart, ran she;
All thro' the rosie Breers sped he.
At length, alas, he caught her Air-drove Vest;
For she, poor Fon, was alway last.
Much while it was, at length, howere, he made
The Mey to sit in th' gloomie Glade.
But she'd not come anear, Ne see, Ne touch,
And yet she lov'd, she lov'd him much.
All thro' the rosie Breers sped he.
At length, alas, he caught her Air-drove Vest;
For she, poor Fon, was alway last.
Much while it was, at length, howere, he made
The Mey to sit in th' gloomie Glade.
But she'd not come anear, Ne see, Ne touch,
And yet she lov'd, she lov'd him much.
Yet haply if her Eye did meet her Coll,
She could not help but to him fall.
Quick tho' recover'd her agen. Thus strove
She 'tween her Friendship and her Love!
If be he touch'd her hand, away she'd throw;
Yet Sigh'd, the while, that must do so.
She could not help but to him fall.
Quick tho' recover'd her agen. Thus strove
She 'tween her Friendship and her Love!
If be he touch'd her hand, away she'd throw;
Yet Sigh'd, the while, that must do so.
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SCENE III.
A Bushy Brake, on the Side of a small running Water.
As sweet they sate, as sweet they show'd, I-Fay,
As Rosie-buds in Month of May,
Soft by the Side of th' easy-gated Stream;
Where sprinkled Flow'rs so fair did swim.
As Rosie-buds in Month of May,
Soft by the Side of th' easy-gated Stream;
Where sprinkled Flow'rs so fair did swim.
Soflin was safe: But when he caught the Mey,
Scarce Heart she had run more away.
Her breast doth yearn. She run's 'ore all the what
That they might do; sit, laugh and chat.
E'ne-now she joy'd at getting off, Ene-now
Resolv'd to hate, and hated too.
Yet back she need's must go. See's Paplet lain.
I doubt then wish'd her self't had been!
Around the place, and round, she walketh oft;
Then stay's her Step, and listen's soft.
Now she'd resolve to go to him, but when
Came well'y close, draw back agen.
Anon he rises, and his leave doth take;
And walk's away where was to walk.
Scarce Heart she had run more away.
Her breast doth yearn. She run's 'ore all the what
That they might do; sit, laugh and chat.
E'ne-now she joy'd at getting off, Ene-now
Resolv'd to hate, and hated too.
Yet back she need's must go. See's Paplet lain.
I doubt then wish'd her self't had been!
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Then stay's her Step, and listen's soft.
Now she'd resolve to go to him, but when
Came well'y close, draw back agen.
Anon he rises, and his leave doth take;
And walk's away where was to walk.
Then Soflin, who had skulkt a-hind a Breer,
Came weeping to the little Dear.
They wept together. Soon as she could speak,
Thus said, as fell on Paplet's Neck.
There is no more! May'st in him happy be!
Ne're grieve Thee for, ne think on Me!
And oh, do'nt blame the Boy! Ne love, dear Pap,
The less for this! It was my Hap.
There is no more. Do thou this Bracelet take;
Wear it, as I did, for his sake!
And now, sweet Boy! for ever now farwell,
For ever fare thee, fare-thee-well!
Came weeping to the little Dear.
They wept together. Soon as she could speak,
Thus said, as fell on Paplet's Neck.
There is no more! May'st in him happy be!
Ne're grieve Thee for, ne think on Me!
And oh, do'nt blame the Boy! Ne love, dear Pap,
The less for this! It was my Hap.
There is no more. Do thou this Bracelet take;
Wear it, as I did, for his sake!
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For ever fare thee, fare-thee-well!
She said. Then did the Bracelet on her bind,
That was her Colly's, once so kind.
That was her Colly's, once so kind.
The End of the Second Pastoral.
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