The plays & poems of Robert Greene Edited with introductions and notes by J. Churton Collins |
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| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. | XXXV DORONS ECLOGVE IOYND WITH CARMELAS. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
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| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
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| LV. |
| LVI. |
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| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
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| LXIII. |
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| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXII. |
| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
 | The plays & poems of Robert Greene |  |
XXXV
DORONS ECLOGVE IOYND WITH CARMELAS.
Sit downe Carmela here are cobs for kings,
Slowes blacke as ieat, or like my Christmas shooes,
Sweete Sidar which my leathren bottle brings:
Sit downe Carmela let me kisse thy toes.
Carmela.
Slowes blacke as ieat, or like my Christmas shooes,
Sweete Sidar which my leathren bottle brings:
Sit downe Carmela let me kisse thy toes.
Ah Doron, ah my heart, thou art as white,
As is my mothers Calfe or brinded Cow,
Thine eyes are like the glow-wormes in the night,
Thine haires resemble thickest of the snow.
As is my mothers Calfe or brinded Cow,
Thine eyes are like the glow-wormes in the night,
Thine haires resemble thickest of the snow.
The lines within thy face are deepe and cleere
Like to the furrowes of my fathers waine,
Thy sweate vpon thy face dooth oft appeare
Like to my mothers fat and kitchin gaine.
Like to the furrowes of my fathers waine,
Thy sweate vpon thy face dooth oft appeare
Like to my mothers fat and kitchin gaine.
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Ah leaue my toe and kisse my lippes my loue,
My lippes and thine, for I haue giuen them thee:
Within thy cap tis thou shalt weare my gloue,
At foote ball sport thou shalt my champion be.
My lippes and thine, for I haue giuen them thee:
Within thy cap tis thou shalt weare my gloue,
At foote ball sport thou shalt my champion be.
Doron.
Carmela deare, euen as the golden ball
That Venus got, such are thy goodly eyes,
When cherries iuice is iumbled therewithall,
Thy breath is like the steeme of apple pies.
That Venus got, such are thy goodly eyes,
When cherries iuice is iumbled therewithall,
Thy breath is like the steeme of apple pies.
Thy lippes resemble two Cowcumbers faire,
Thy teeth like to the tuskes of fattest swine,
Thy speach is like the thunder in the aire:
Would God thy toes, thy lips and all were mine.
Thy teeth like to the tuskes of fattest swine,
Thy speach is like the thunder in the aire:
Would God thy toes, thy lips and all were mine.
Carmela.
Doron what thing dooth mooue this wishing griefe.
Doron.
Tis Loue Carmela ah tis cruell Loue.
That like a slaue, and caitiffe villaine thiefe,
Hath cut my throate of ioy for thy behoue.
That like a slaue, and caitiffe villaine thiefe,
Hath cut my throate of ioy for thy behoue.
Carmela.
Where was he borne?
Doron.
In faith I know not where.
But I haue heard much talking of his dart.
Ay me poore man, with manie a trampling teare,
I feele him wound the forehorse of my heart,
But I haue heard much talking of his dart.
Ay me poore man, with manie a trampling teare,
I feele him wound the forehorse of my heart,
What doo I loue? O no, I doo but talke.
What shall I die for loue? O no, not so.
What am I dead? O no my tongue dooth walke.
Come kisse Carmela, and confound my woe.
What shall I die for loue? O no, not so.
What am I dead? O no my tongue dooth walke.
Come kisse Carmela, and confound my woe.
Carmela.
Euen with this kisse, as once my father did,
I seale the sweete indentures of delight:
Before I breake my vowe the Gods forbid,
No not by day, nor yet by darkesome night.
I seale the sweete indentures of delight:
Before I breake my vowe the Gods forbid,
No not by day, nor yet by darkesome night.
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Euen with this garland made of Holly-hocks
I crosse thy browes from euerie shepheerds kisse.
Heigh hoe how glad am I to touch thy lockes,
My frolicke heart euen now a free man is.
I crosse thy browes from euerie shepheerds kisse.
Heigh hoe how glad am I to touch thy lockes,
My frolicke heart euen now a free man is.
Carmela.
I thanke you Doron, and will thinke on you,
I loue you Doron, and will winke on you.
I seale your charter pattent with my thummes,
Come kisse and part for feare my mother comes.
I loue you Doron, and will winke on you.
I seale your charter pattent with my thummes,
Come kisse and part for feare my mother comes.
| The plays & poems of Robert Greene | |