 | The Italian Taylor, and his Boy |  |
Cant. 4.
Argument.
Heere may you note in anger,What toyles and labours bee,
And though the old be stronger,
Yet often times we see
The younger wins the glorie,
As you shall finde writ in the storie.
The seruant Fish perceaues
It was his Maisters subtile pride,
Springs through the weed-growne leaues:
The younger vs'd more speed:
Yet scarce had power to keepe his length,
In his poste passiue speed:
Through sheluie Brooks (by sedgy bancks
The shallow and the deepe)
In Mud, in Grauell, Weedes and Crancks,
Now swim they, then they creepe.
The beautious Ala, Iabins daughter,
King of sea and land,
Sends out her hand-mayd soone hereafter,
To the salt sea sand,
To gather Pibbles for her Bow,
To shoote at flying Birds:
Shee stoopes and sets her Basket low,
Vsing these angrie wordes.
“Must I be made a gleaner now,
“To geather killing Stones,
“For harmeles chirpers, that each bough,
“Beares freely for the nones?”
While thus she grudg'd her taking toyle,
And looking on the Sea,
She might behold this heauie coyle,
As Fishes when they play;
And in the Sommer leape aloft,
In the beholders eye;
And sodainely fall downeward soft,
I'th water where they lie.
Euen so these twaine, wearie with flight,
Make stand; as in the fielde
Two Armies meete, to try the right,
And make the other yeelde.
Like a hollow Grone,
And instantly proceeded after
Quiet, as if none
Disturb'd the Flood: but when her eye
Had pierct the meaning truely,
More wondring stood she, and thereby
She did obserue them duely.
When Enuie boldly shewde it selfe
In Fish, so well as Men;
To which, she standing on the shelfe,
Made this reply agen.
“Poore fooles, how is't they wrangle so,
“Either in braule or sport?
“T'is prettie, how so euer (I trow)
“And fitting my report.”
But while amazde she them beheld
The smaller Fash grew weake,
Could not contend, but needs must yeeld:
And therefore thus doth speake.
“O modest Mayde receiue me yet,
“And saue me from my foe:”
O'th sodaine in her Basket leapt,
A prettie Fish in shoe:
But while a nazde she lookt thereon,
As musing at this thing,
The Fish she did behold, was gon
Into a Rubie Ring,
Vnseene of her, amongst the Stones
She geatherd on the sand,
Which she choos'd out there for the nonce
By labour with her hand.
| The Italian Taylor, and his Boy | |