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The Prologue by Cupid in a Shepheards cloak.

Who would thinke that a God lay lurking vnder a gray cloake,
Silly Shepheards gray cloake, & arm'd with a paltery sheephooke?
And yet no pety God, no God that gads by the mountaines,
But the triumphantst God that beares any sway in Olympus:
Which many times hath made man-murdring Mars to be cursing
His blood-sucking blade; and prince of watery empire
Earth-shaking Neptune, his threeforckt mace to be leauing,
And Ioue omnipotent, as a poore and humble obeissant,

His three-slak't lightnings and thunderbolts to abandon.
And I beleeue, thus shap't, and thus with a mantle adorned
Lady Venus will scarce finde out her wily Cupido,
Mine owne mother, I hope, will skarce take mee for her owne son.
Shee makes me run away, and thus compells me to hide me,
For that still shee byds, and still commaunds as a mother
Boy, and bowe, and all: and still perswades as a woeman
Proud-harted woeman, that I bende my bowe to the Court still,
And, as a Lord, with Lords and Ladies still be a dwelling:
As for Parckes and woods, such woodden stuffe she referreth
Vnto the wanton wagges that waite on Lordly Cupido.
But let a woman talk, let boyes be afraid of a woeman,
Lord of loue's no boy, although that he seeme to be boylike:
I'le bestow myself, as best shall seeme to my owneself;
Doues be my mothers byrds, but desteny gaue to Cupido
All-inflaming lampe and golden bowe for a weapon.
Oftentimes doo I hide myself, and flie fro my mother
(Not that I owe any suite as a seruile slaue to my mother,
But that I can not abide to be dayly desir'de by my mother
For to renounce Hoblobs, and ayme at a King or a Kaisar)
Oftentimes doo I flie, and shroude my selfe in a thicket,
Leauing Christall throanes for bowres and rustical harbors:
But no sooner I can conuey myself from Olympus,
But she begins to demaund and aske for louely Cupido,
Wher's that wandring boy, that vile boy, louely Cupido?
Seeke and search my boy, my wagg, my louely Cupido:
Looke for a curldpate boy, his wings will quickly bewray him,
Looke for a boy with a lampe and bow and quiuer about him:
Whoso findes my boy, my ioy, my louely Cupido,
And brings back my boy, shall haue for a friendly remembrance,
Either a sweete sweete kisse, or somewhat more than a sweete kisse:
As though Louely Cupid to a fryend that loue's to be sylent,
Neyther could nor would allow for a fryendly remembrance
Eyther a sweete sweete kisse, or somewhat more than a sweete kisse.
And, I beleeue, my kisse, (if loue intend to be louely)
Wil be a sweeter kisse to a lasse then Queene Cytheræaes.
Thus, many tymes in vaine shee seekes for louely Cupido,
Louing girles are loath to bewray their louely Cupido.
Yet, to be more secure, my curledlocks I doo curtall,
My wings are layde downe, my bowe and quiuer abandond,

Weapons all set aside; and yet loue stands not vnarmed.
For this staffe, that seemes but a toy, that I beare for a fashyon,
Is Loues lampe indeede, and beares but a shew of a sheephooke,
Lou'es transformed lampe, with most inuincible ardor,
Most inuisible heate, and secrete ardor abounding,
Though in forme but rude, and goldhead seemes to be wanting,
Whoso feele's his force shall finde it not to be poyntles,
Where it lights it workes, and leaues impression endles:
This blunt dart shall giue that cureles wound to the hartroote
Of loueles damsel, most loueles damsel amongst all
Those loueles damsels that wayte on mighty Diana.
Phillis (that's her name) disdainefulst wench of a thousand
Shall in her hardest hart conceaue as mighty a loues-wound,
As was that, that I made in tender brest of Amyntas.
Now many pleasant springs are past, since yong Lad Amyntas
And yong gyrle Phillis, themselues were woont to be sporting,
Now to be gath'ring flowr's, and filberds now to be cracking,
Now to be laying gyns for byrds, and now to be anglyng:
And yet, that this blow may make more forcible entrance
And more speedily pierce, ile stay and looke for a fit time:
When pyty moues her mynde, and makes her brest to be tender,
Then wil I stryke and wounde; and that this louely begynnyng
May as luckyly end, ile talk and walk as a heardsman,
And so insinuate my self to the company rurall
Of these iolly Shepheards which hether now be repayring,
All in a braue meryment dame Flora'es wakes to be keeping,
With theyr garlands greene, and boughs of Myrtle adorned.
Here, eu'n here wil I make that most incurable harts-wound
Which no mortall eye shall see: then louely Cupido
Louely Cupidoe's fame in these woods shalbe resounding,
These woods then shall feele a triumphant powre to be present,
And perceaue that I woork by myself, and not by my seruants:
Noble thoughts wil I send, and high conceipts wil I breath foorth
Into the lowli'est myndes, and frame theyr voice to a sweeter
And more sugred tune: for wheresoeuer I harbor,
Wheresoeuer I keepe, ile stil be the louely Cupido,
Aswel in Hoblobs heart, as in heart of a King or a Kaisar,
And as I list, I doe make an vnæquall mynde to be æquall:
And this is only my ioy, and herein most doo I glory,
That by the quyckning heate, by the fire of louely Cupido

Oaten pipe contends with learned Lute of a Lording,
Which if my Mother (who scorn's that I am thus a wandring
Here and there by the woods) can not conceaue to be wondrous,
Then shee's blinde her selfe, and not sweete louely Cupido,
Whom some blinde fooles haue blinde boy vnworthily called.
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