University of Virginia Library

The .v. Egloge entituled CANDIDVS.

Siluanus. Candidus.
Siluanus.
O Candid, thou ere this
didst vse a common trade,
With vs to feede thy flocke a fielde
and Pipe in pleasaunt shade.
To chat in merry wise,
and wrestle now and than:
But now me thinkes thou art become
another kinde of man.
As though thou didst both loath
the Shephierdes and their soyle:
Thou fleest the fieldes, & scornst to sing,
a sleepie dumpish droile.

Candidus.
You that at home haue store
of goodly housholde stuffe,
Whose Kie haue dangling Udders downe
and morning Milke ynouffe:
Whose flockes do fill the paile
euen to the upper brimme,
Whose Hierds do make ye croked Cans
with whashing whay to swimme:
Whose boordes with Bankets braue
and fattie Feastes do reake,
In commendation of a Uerse
and praise of Poets speake.
If ought be well deuisde
you giue a chearefull crie:
And to the hearing of the same
a pleasaunt eare applie.
Uaine praise and painted woordes
in recompence you giue:
Meanewhile ye shepherd hunger sterude,
in thirst and colde doth liue.

Siluanus.
Can he not both attend
his flocke, and otherwhile
At vacant time make Uerses, and
all cankred cares exile?
And wast his dayes in sport,
and leade his life at lust
As best contents his liking minde?

Candidus.
No (friend) a Shephierd must
All laysure time unto
his Cattle well implie,
Trot out in hast, retourne in poast,
and bout his matters hie:
Keepe off the barking Woulfe,
close vp his flocke in folde,
Buie strawe and fodder to sustaine
his Beasts from Winter colde:
For meate and drinke puruey,
no leysure time remaines.
A Uerse it is a stately thing
and craues a cruell paines,
And all the braine (Siluanus) beates,
and stirring Senses straines.
Both these are weighty woorkes
and ouermuch for me:
When I haue soong I am full drie,
my lippes ypartched be,
And no man giues me drinke:
some other scoffe a good,
And say, me thinks your cloake is thin,
your haire grows through your hood:
Your hose are crackt at knee,
your bearde is bristled sore.
Now naked Trees vnuested are,
the frostie hils are hore.
I chaufe, I sorrow eke,
and daylie do disdaine:
The cost of needefull cates consumes
and weares away my gaine,
Both Wooll and Cattle male.
We keepe the females aye,
But for they fostred are with milke
we make nor cheese nor whaye,
They drie the strouting Tets.
It yrks me of my witte
(If any lodge within my Skull)
and skill a Uerse to writte.
It loathes me of my life
this cruell chaunce to see,
That none of all the shining Starres
is friendly light to me.
Thou wottst full well that I
for nought these many dayes
Haue soong, I wanted fewe good things
as then: now Youth decayes,
And limping Age is at
another kinde of stay
Which now encrocheth on apace,
it reaues our wealth away.
Then strength begins to faile,
no lucres hope remaines.
Then must we vse our gotten goodes,
and wast our coffred gaynes.
Wherfore now time requires
and bids us looke about:
See how the Ant a little beast
(I put thee out of doubt)
But circumspect and wise,
in Sommer drags to Caue
And hides the Graine in hole, his life
in Winter time to saue,
And, least the Corne should sproute
and so escape his might,
The buried graine with greedy mouth
this siellie Beast doth bite.

Siluanus.
They say there are that knowe
what Fortune shall betide
By Starres that rule at time of birth,
and they do thus decide.
The Poets they were wont
to Mercure to assigne,
And noble Peeres are vnder Ioue
whose soueraigne Scepters shine.
Them mightie Ioue allowes
the Golde and Kingly seate:
Mercurius giues those other wit,
tong, harpe and Uerses feate.
That is thy lotted hap,
why doest thou gape for pelfe?
God doth dystribute needefull things
as he doth see himselfe
What is for our auaile:
wherefore accept thy share
And liue content, resigne the rest
to vs that wealthie are.

Candidus.
Thou riches hast at will,
I Uerse and Poets trade:
Why crau'st thou then my Uerse, & dost
anothers bowndes inuade?

Siluanus.
I reaue thee not thy Muse,
nor ought that Phœbus gaue:
But to thy Musicke for to lende
an eare, is all I craue.

Candidus.
Then if thou long so much
to heare my pleasaunt voice,
(Siluanus) reason is, that with
thy wealth I should reioice.

Siluanus.
He at my wealth doth ioy
that loues both me and mine:
The spitefull man hates me, and at
my welfare doth repine.

Candidus.
Yea, then as well thou mayst
in absence take delight
Ynough of this my Muse, and so
thy friendship I requite.
For Uerses are the feast
and iuncket of the eare,
Cheese serues to feede the tasting iawes
in steade of better cheare.
Wherfore if thou desire
to feast thine eares with sound:
Then set my chaps a worke with cates,
for so thou standest bound
By loue, and law of God,
so pitie doth persuade.
God giues not al his giftes to one,
but in such sorte hath made
His lawes of kinde, that none
can finde suffising powre
Within him selfe to serue his tourne,
but at some needefull howre
He standes in want of helpe
and of some forraine ayde:
And that is it that doth conioyne,
and euer yet hath stayde
In league of lasting loue
all kindes of forraine wightes:
The French, the Maure, the Italian, &
the worthy Spanish Knightes.
Then let vs ioyne yfeare,
and lincke at last in one
Those starres that at eche others birth
and day of being shone.
Cause Iupiter to be
my faithfull friend at neede,
And thou shalt haue Mercurius helpe
if he may stande in steede.
Thou shalt not want his Hat,
his twigge, or Lute to play:
Alcydes knot thou shalt commaunde,
which fewe can tell the way
Or none at all to looze,
so doubtfull is the drift:
Yea whisking wings & all thy limmes
into the Skies to lift.

Siluanus.
Good faith, me thinks thou telst
a vaine and trifling tale:
Your ouermany words declare
your tong is tipt with Ale.

Candidus.
You count it vaine that doth
your riches wrong a whit.
But if to heare my merrie Muse
you haue so great delight:
Do ease my drousie dumpes,
and myst of carefull minde:
For Uerses craue a quiet breast
and ioyfull heart by kinde.
I woxen am of late
much like the skirring Kite,
Whome cruell colde and hunger cloyes,
a slowe vnlustie wight.
All scalie is my Skinne,
my lippes are passing drie:
For lacke of licour at my neede
I am at point to die.
In stable not a Beast,
in cloase no Corne to see:
No crosse in pouch, and wouldst ye haue
me voide of care to bee?
Such Physike doth not serue
nor sitting is to ease
Me (siellie Miser) of my griefe
and gryping fowle dysease.
Make merrie me, do cloath
my bare and naked bones,
Relieue my Age, and thou shalt see
me making Uerse atones:
I out of hand will sing
and pipe in pleasaunt wise.
A house that stored is with wealth
where trash and treasure lies,
Doth cruell cares exile
and banish dumpes away.
A Sellar full, Foldes stuft with flockes,
Pots full as ere they may:
A Flaggon full to brimme,
as much as it can holde,
Barne full, fatte Cattle, and a Pursse
puft vp with peysing Golde,
These make the merry minde.
Then pleasaunt 'tis to wake
The Winter nights, and with a sticke
at fiers side to make
Good sport with streking of
the Asshes furrowise:
And roast the Chestnutte that yrakt
in scalding imber lies.
And with an alie Cruse
the cruell thirst to quell,
And pleasaunt tales among a route
of spinning Trulls to tell.
For Vergil (by report)
Mecœnas bearing sway,
The Countrey, Oxen, soyle and eke
the Martiall warrs did splay
Aloft in lustie tune,
and strake with stately Uerse
The starry Skies, his Musike did
the haughtie Heauens pierce.
Good luck and store of wealth
allowde him fluent vaine:
Us siellie, poore and patched soules
the Muses do disdaine.
To vs that Gruell suppe
with greedy gaping gumme,
As leane as rakes, the God of skil,
Apollo scornes to come.

Siluanus.
O friend if hoped hap
suffising wealth allowe
To me, I will procure release
of cares that cloy thee nowe.

Candidus.
Siluanus would thy will
did counteruaile thy might,
And thou wert bent as well as thou
art able me to quite
From present poore estate.
I neyther long to haue
The fluent wealth of Cosmus, 'tis
no silken cloake I craue.
No roabe of Purple staine
or Die that came from Tyre,
Nor costly cates of mighty Kings,
nor Bankets I desire.
Not Æsops daintie dish
or warlike Pallas shielde,
Nor battled buildings raised hie
that Romaine Nero helde.
(I minde it well that I
of Vmber learned this)
I craue attire and vittailes in
a thacched Coate ywis.
So that I were assurde
of that till life did blinne:
Giue me Pythagors homely fare,
and Codrus garments thinne.
I often times haue had
the hap to hit on such
That offred haue to me ere this
in painted words as much,
But nought they did in deede:
my hope consistes in thee
Alone, and in none other man.
If thou once false with mee,
Quite off is cut my hope:
with Nightingall I may
Shut vp my Pipes till next retourne
of Spring, and leaue my lay,
As one withouten speach:
then wil the time to put
My weapon on the peast, and watch
dischargde, the dore to shutte.

Siluanus.
O Candid thou at Rome
ere this (I know) hast beene:
The sacred Senate there thou hast
and holie Fathers seene.
Where are so many States
and store of learned braynes,
There may a man enritch him soone,
there restes the Poets gaynes.

Candidus.
No sure, thou art begylde,
thou thinkst I long for pelfe:
So weenes the Woulfe that other eate
the meate he mowthes him selfe.
And thou haste this conceyte
that other treade the way
And crosse the path that thou doest pace,
thus doest thou seeme to say.
A pittance would suffize,
I couet not to flowe:
O let me liue withouten care,
the Romaine Court I knowe.
O (Siluan) what auayles
that place so poore a Wight?
Augustus long agoe is deade,
in dampe or darksome night
He woons and stayes in Hell.
If Rome do ought expende,
Tis trifles, Rome receyues the golde,
and woords for ware doth lende.
Alas, for now alone
at Rome doth money raigne:
Dame VERTVE liues a weary life,
erilde she bydes the paine.
Ech man doth bid vs hope
and looke for good at last:
We gnawe on Trust, tis slender foode,
we were as good to fast.

Siluanus.
Display some dreadfull fielde,
pen actes of woorthie Peeres,
Write wreakefull Warrs of wrathfull Kings:
repaire to such as steeres
And are the stay of Realmes,
and wielde the princelie Mace:
Thou shalt haue lucke to light on some
that pitie will thy case.

Candidus.
Tush, sooner shall I finde
a checke or scoffing taunt:
Of Poets men as much accompt
as stewes they daylie haunt.
Why then (Siluanus) doest
thou stirre my chaufed witte?

Siluanus.
Such filthie wordes to speake it is
not for a Poet fitte.

Candidus.
I can none other choose
but very sooth to say:
But if thou faine wouldst haue ye truth
to be concealde, do stay
Thy tong from mouing me,
and leaue while things be well.

Siluanus.
What 'tis not one to stirre to wrath,
and good aduice to tell.

Candidus.
Of counsayle I am storde,
my budget is but bare:
How should a needy Poet Wars
and kingly Campes declare?
That hath not once so much
good here below the Sunne,
As knife to cut his Pipe, and cause
the breath by holes to runne?
Beholde the handle of
my Whittle how it waggs
By loosenesse of the pinnes: see howe
the edge is all in iaggs
And toothed like a sawe:
but these are slender things,
The lacke of meate and drinke is it
that me so vilely wrings.
Good counsell somewhat mends
the matter when it cooms:
But that aduice that fruitelesse is
our shaken Senses nooms.
It breakes the busie braine,
it weakes the wearie witte.
For Peeres small friendships to bestow
me thinks is nothing fitte:
And they do flatte refuse
great guerdons to forgoe.
Besides our Princes now a dayes
accompt of Uerses so,
As Borias blast of leaues,
with whiffing force that flie:
Or Lybicke winde with stormie puffe
that on the Seas doth lie.
As frost doth force the Uine
whome cruell it doth cut.
The Besars they their tickling ioyes
in sweete delights so put,
(Unmindefull of their states)
and ydle life imbrace:
As Uerses they will none that seeme
their vices to deface.
Thence flow the wanton Rymes,
this makes that Poets nowe
Of childish Venus chat so ofte
they wotte neare what nor how:
Of tauntes and scolding scoffe,
of beastly bellie cheare,
Of sluggish trade, infamous actes,
which too reprochfull were
And vile offence for one
that honest is to write.
But those that earst with hardy hande,
and courage stout did fight,
That vsed valiaunt armes
and dealt with deadly blade,
Not glutted with the greedie Golde,
haue more of Poets made:
And lou'd the loftie Muse
and Uerse of stately stile.
Those Martial Kings that foylde ye foe
with haughtie hand erewhile,
Extolde the haughtie Pen
that did their battails blase:
But straight assoone as warlike wights
and Uertue fled the place,
The Poets could not write,
Inuention fainted thoe:
The learned lost their brains, the floud
of Uersing waxed lowe,
To wracke went worthy workes.
If now a dayes of fame
Be any liuing that by warres
hath gotte a gallant name:
He forceth nought at all
of after commers praise,
Renoume of forraine land he scornes
content with present dayes,
(Quite glutted with good fame)
and laude that they allowe,
Whome he doth hourely see with eye
and viewes with daylie browe.
A sauage man outright
he loues no learned skill,
Or else of much desired golde
can neuer haue his fill:
But drowned lies in mucke
and filthie Metals mire,
Quite crusht with cares as Mydas was
with greedie goldes desire.
Besides with Princes are
a rude and rusticke route,
A spitefull sect: The flattring guest,
the counterfaiting Loute
Whose iestures maken glee,
the baudie merchaunt eake,
And he, that what so ere he sayes,
to please the eare doth speake.
Then he that playes on Stage,
the iangling Iester to:
Next him ye mate that hunts ye Whoore,
and other thousandes moe
That hate the Poet, and
are Uertues deadlie foes:
Expell him from the Princes Court.
Much like as when the Crowes
Haue lothsome Carraine founde
and see the Carcas lie:
They driue frō thence both Foule and Beast,
not letting them come nie.
Againe some Poets are
so out of reason rash,
As (blockish beastes) they dare to make
too fonde and foolish trash.
And all to feede the eares
and humours of the Peeres,
Yea such as force no whit of fame.
For Poets eke there steeres
A kinde of frantick moode
and madnesse of the braynes:
These (but I wotte not what it is
that therevnto constraynes)
Will Poets be in hast
and taken so abrode,
As soone as once they haue in Pipe
of hollow Hemlocke blowde.
Well thinke they of them selues,
vpon their bookes they bost
Uile Fooles and sielly Sotts vntaught,
not fitte to rule the rost:
Foreseeyng nought at all
foreright and witlesse men.
Who so accustomde is to lende
an eare vnto theyr Pen
And foolish tedious tales,
doe deeme there is no choice,
But all are wise alike: and this
is it that barres the voice
Of learned men in deede,
for that he knowes not howe
To iudge the better from the worsse,
Minerua from the Sowe.

Siluanus.
O Candid, I protest
by Heauenly powers on hie,
And haughtie Gods of Olympe hill
that wield the scudding Skye:
That I (if on my sayles
there light a blessed blast)
Will seeke to further thee in time,
and be thy helpe at last.
Meanewhile content thy selfe
and champe on hope with me:
Till better fortune shall allowe
my friendlier fates to be.

Candidus.
If so thou meane me well,
I wish thee like againe.

Siluanus.
Yes fayth wyth all my heart and minde,
the proufe shall make it plaine,
Within a little space.

Candidus.
Farewell thou churlish Chuffe,
Pray God thou neuer mayst returne
that neuer hast ynouffe.
Would all thou handlest mought
(as Mydas did of yore)
Be Golde, for cause thou setst of Golde
more than of Uertue store.