University of Virginia Library

THE THIRD ECLOGUE. Philaret with his three friends

The Argument.

Philaret with his three friends;
Here his hunting story ends.
Kind Alexis with much ruth
Wails the banish'd shepherd's youth.
But he slighteth fortune's stings,
And in spite of thraldom sings.
Philarete. Cuddy. Alexis. Willy.
Philarete.
So, now I see y' are shepherds of your word,
Thus were you wont to promise, and to do.

Cuddy.
More than our promise is, we can afford;
We come ourselves, and bring another too,
Alexis, whom thou know'st well is no foe,
Who loves thee much; and I do know that he
Would fain a hearer of thy hunting be.

Philarete.
Alexis, you are welcome, for you know
You cannot be but welcome where I am;
You ever were a friend of mine in show,
And I have found you are indeed the same:
Upon my first restraint you hither came,
And proffered me more tokens of your love,
Than it were fit my small deserts should prove.

Alexis.
'Tis still your use to underprize your merit;
Be not so coy to take my proffered love,
'Twill neither unbeseem your worth nor spirit.
To offer court'sy doth thy friend behove:
And which are so, this is a place to prove.
Then once again I say, if cause there be,
First make a trial, if thou please, of me.

Philarete.
Thanks, good Alexis; sit down by me here,
I have a task, these shepherds know, to do;
A tale already told this morn well near,
With which I very fain would forward go,
And am as willing thou should'st hear it too:
But thou canst never understand this last,
Till I have also told thee what is past.

Willy.
It shall not need, for I so much presumed,
I on your mutual friendships might be bold,
That I a freedom to myself assumed
To make him know what is already told.
If I have done amiss, then you may scold.
But in my telling I prevised this,
He knew not whose, nor to what end it is.

Philarete.
Well, now he may, for here my tale goes on:
My eager dogs and I to wood are gone,
Where, beating through the coverts, every hound
A several game had in a moment found:
I rated them, but they pursued their prey,
And as it fell (by hap) took all one way.
Then I began with quicker speed to follow,
And teased them on with a more cheerful hollo,
That soon we passed many weary miles,
Tracing the subtle game through all their wiles.
These doubled, those redoubled on the scent,
Still keeping in full chase where'er they went,
Up hills, down cliffs, through bogs, and over plains,
Stretching their music to the highest strains.
That when some thicket hid them from mine eye,
My ear was ravish'd with their melody.
Nor cross'd we only ditches, hedges, furrows,
But hamlets, tithings, parishes, and boroughs:
They followed wheresoe'er the game did go,
Through kitchen, parlour, hall, and chamber too.
And, as they pass'd the city, and the court,
My prince look'd out, and deigned to view my sport;
Which then, although I suffer for it now,
If some say true he liking did allow;
And so much, had I had but wit to stay,
I might myself perhaps have heard him say.
But I, that time, as much as any daring,
More for my pleasure than my safety caring;
Seeing fresh game from every covert rise,
Crossing by thousands still before their eyes,
After I rush'd, and following close my hounds,
Some beasts I found lie dead, some full of wounds,
Among the willows, scarce with strength to move:
One I found here, another there, whom Love
Had gripp'd to death: and, in the self-same state,
Lay one devoured by Envy, one by Hate;
Lust had bit some, but I soon passed beside them,
Their fester'd wounds so stunk, none could abide them.
Choler hurt divers, but Revenge kill'd more:
Fear frightened all, behind him and before.
Despair drave on a huge and mighty heap,
Forcing some down from rocks and hills to leap,
Some into water, some into the fire;
So on themselves he made them wreak his ire.
But I remember, as I pass'd that way,
Where the great king and prince of shepherds lay,
About the walls were hid some, once more known,
That my fell cur Ambition had o'erthrown:
Many I heard, pursued by Pity, cry;
And oft I saw my blood-hound, Cruelty,
Eating her passage even to the heart,
Whither once gotten, she is loth to part.
All plied it well, and made so loud a cry,
'Twas heard beyond the shores of Britany.
Some rated them, some storm'd, some liked the game,
Some thought me worthy praise, some worthy blame.
But I, not fearing th' one, mis-'steeming t'other,
Both in shrill hallooes and loud yearnings smother.
Yea, the strong mettled and my long-breath'd crew,
Seeing the game increasing in their view,
Grew the more frolic, and the course's length
Gave better breath, and added to their strength.
Which Jove perceiving, for Jove heard their cries
Rumbling amongst the spheres' concavities,
He mark'd their course, and courage's increase,
Saying, 'twere pity such a chase should cease.
And therewith swore their mouths should never waste,
But hunt as long 's mortality did last.
Soon did they feel the power of his great gift,
And I began to find their pace more swift:
I follow'd, and I rated, but in vain
Strived to o'ertake, or take them up again.
They never stayed since, nor nights nor days,
But to and fro still run a thousand ways:
Yea, often to this place where now I lie,
They'll wheel about to cheer me with their cry;
And one day in good time will vengeance take
On some offenders, for their master's sake:
For know, my friends, my freedom in this sort
For them I lose, and making myself sport.

Willy.
Why, was there any harm at all in this?

Philarete.
No, Willy, and I hope yet none there is.

Willy.
How comes it then?

Philarete.
Note, and I'll tell thee how.
Thou know'st that truth and innocency now,
If placed with meanness, suffers more despite
Than villainies accompanied with might.
But thus it fell, while that my hounds pursued
Their noisome prey, and every field lay strew'd
With monsters, hurt and slain,—upon a beast
More subtle and more noisome than the rest,
My lean-flank'd bitch, call'd Envy, hapt to light;
And, as her wont is, did so surely bite
That, though she left behind small outward smart,
The wounds were deep, and rankled to the heart.
This, joining to some other, that of late
Were very eagerly pursued by Hate,
To fit their purpose having taken leisure,
Did thus conspire to work me a displeasure.
For imitation far surpassing apes,
They laid aside their fox and wolfish shapes,
And shrouded in the skins of harmless sheep
Into by-ways and open paths did creep;
Where they, as hardly drawing breath, did lie,
Showing their wounds to every passer by,
To make them think that they were sheep so foil'd,
And by my dogs, in their late hunting, spoil'd.
Beside, some other that envied my game,
And, for their pastime, kept such monsters tame—
As, you do know, there's many for their pleasure
Keep foxes, bears, and wolves, as some great treasure
Yea, many get their living by them too,
And so did store of these, I speak of, do—
Who, seeing that my kennel had affrighted,
Or hurt some vermin wherein they delighted,
And finding their own power by much too weak
Their malice on my innocence to wreak,
Swoll'n with the deepest rancour of despite
Some of our greatest shepherds' folds by night
They closely entered; and there having stain'd
Their hands in villainy, of me they plain'd
Affirming, without shame or honesty,
I and my dogs had done it purposely.
Whereat they storm'd, and call'd me to a trial,
Where innocence prevails not, nor denial:
But for that cause here in this place I lie,
Where none so merry as my dogs and I.

Cuddy.
Believe it, here's a tale will suiten well,
For shepherds in another age to tell.

Willy.
And thou shalt be remember'd with delight
By this hereafter, many a winter's night;
For of this sport another age will ring;
Yea, nymphs that are unborn thereof shall sing,
And not a beauty on our greens shall play
That hath not heard of this thy hunting day.

Philarete.
It may be so, for if that gentle swain
Who woos by Tavy on the western plain,
Would make the song, such life his verse can give,
Then I do know my name might ever live.

Alexis.
But tell me, are our plains and nymphs forgot,
And canst thou frolic in thy trouble be?

Philarete.
Can I, Alexis, say'st thou? Can I not,
That am resolved to scorn more misery?

Alexis.

Philarete.

Alexis.
Why now I see thou droop'st not with thy care,
Neither exclaim'st thou on thy hunting day,
But dost with unchanged resolution bear
The heavy burthen of exile away.
All that did truly know thee, did conceive
Thy actions with thy spirit still agreed;
Their good conceit thou dost no whit bereave,
But shew'st that thou art still thyself indeed.
If that thy mind to baseness now descends,
Thou'lt injure virtue, and deceive thy friends.

Willy.
Alexis, he will injure virtue much,
But more his friends, and most of all himself;
If on that common bar his mind but touch,
It wracks his fame upon disgrace's shelf.
Whereas if thou steer on that happy course,
Which in thy just adventure is begun,
No thwarting tide nor adverse blast shall force
Thy bark without the channel's bounds to run.
Thou art the same thou wert, for ought I see,
When thou didst freely on the mountains hunt;
In nothing changed yet, unless it be
More merrily disposed than thou wert wont.
Still keep thee thus, so other men shall know,
Virtue can give content in midst of woe;
And see, though mightiness with frowns doth threat,
That, to be innocent, is to be great.
Thrive and farewell.

Alexis.
In this thy trouble flourish.

Cuddy.
While those that wish thee ill, fret, pine, and perish.