University of Virginia Library

SECOND BOOK:

CONTAINING DIALOGUES For TWO VOYCES: To be Sung to the Theorboe-Lute or Basse-Viol.

A Dialogue betwixt Phillis and Clorillo.

I prethee keep my sheep for me
Philis.

I prethee keep my sheep for me: Clorillo, wilt thou, tell?

Clorillo.

First, let me have a kiss of thee, and I will keep them well.

Phillis.

If thou a while but to my little flock will look, thou shalt have this imbroidred skrip and silver hook.

Clorillo.

No other favour or reward I crave, but one poor kisse.

Phillis.

A kisse thou must not have.

Clorillo.

And why?

Phillis.

Such enticements Maids must fly: this Garland thou shalt have of Roses and of Lillies.

Clorillo.

Nor Skrip, nor Hook, nor Garland sweetest Phillis, do I require, to kisse thy fresh and Rosie lip is onely my desire.

Phillis.

Take then a kisse, and let me goe, till I return thy care upon my flocks bestow.

Chorus

together.
Sweet sweet is that kisse that doth with true and just desire as much another give, as to it self require.

A Dialogue between Silvia and Thirsis.

Dear Silvia, let thy Thirsis know
Thirsis.

Dear Silvia, let thy Thirsis know what 'tis that makes those tears o'reflow. Are the Kids that us'd to play and skip so nimbly gon astray? Are Cloris flowers more fresh and green? Or is some other Nimph made Queen?

Silvia.

Thirsis do'st thou think that I can grieve for this, when thou art by?

Thirsis.

What is it then?

Silvia.

My father bids that I no longer feed my Kids with thine but Coridons, and wear none but his Garlands on my haire.

Thirsis.

Why so? Why so my Silvia? Will he keep thy flocks more

safe when thou do'st sleep? Will the Nimphs envy more thy praise, when chanted with his round delays?

Sylvia.

No Thirsis, I my flocks must joyn with his, 'cause they are more then thine.

Chorus.

Fathers cruell as the Rocks, joyn not their children, but their flocks, their flocks, and Hymen cals, Hymen cals to light his torches there, and Hymen cals, and cals to light his torches there, where fortune, nor affections equall are.

A Dialogue between a Shepherd and Lucinda.

Did not you once Lucinda vow, you would love none but me?
Shepherd.

Did not you once Lucinda vow, you would love none but me?

Lucinda.

I, but my mother tels me now I must love wealth, not thee.

Shep.

'Tis not my fault, my sheep are lean, or that they are so few.

Luc.

Nor mine, I cannot love so mean, so poor a thing as you.

Shep.

Cruell, cruell thy love is in thy power, fortune is not in mine.

Luc.

But Shepherd, think how great my dower is in respect of thine.

Shep.

Ah me! ah me!

Luc.

Ah me!

Shep.

Mock you my grief?

Luc.

I pitty thy hard fate.

Shep.

Pity, for Love is poor releief, is poor relief, is poor relief, I'd

rather chuse thy hate.

Luc.

But I must love thee.

Shep.

No.

Luc.

But I must love thee.

Shep.

No.

Luc.

Believe,

Shep.

No.

Luc.

Believe.

Shep.

No.

Luc.

I'le seal it with a kiss, and give thee no more cause to grieve then what thou findst in this: I'le give thee no more cause to grieve, then what thou findst in this.

Chorus.

Be witness then, be witness then you powers above, and by these holy bands let it appear that truest love grows not on wealth, grows not on wealth, grows not on wealth grows not on wealth nor lands.

A Dialogue between Daphne and Strephon.

Come, my Daphne, come away
Strephon.

Come, my Daphne, come away, we do waste the cristal day.

Daphne.

'Tis Strephon calls, what would my Love?

Strephon.

Come follow to the Mirtle Grove, where Venus shal prepare new chaplets for thy hair.

Daphne.

Were I shut up within a tree, I'd rend my bark to follow thee.

Strephon.

My Shepherdess make haste, the minutes slide so fast.

Daphne.

In those cooler shades, will I blind as Cupid kisse your Eye.

Strephon.

In thy bosome then I'le stray, in such warm snow, who would not lose his way?

Chorus.

We'l laugh and leave this world behind, and gods themselves that see, shall envy thee and me, but never find such

joyes when they embrace a Diety.

A Dialogue between Shepherd and Shepherdess.

Shepherdess.

Forbear fond Swain, I cannot love.

Shepherd.

I prethee fair one, tell me why thou art so cold?

Shepherdess.

You do but move to take away my liberty.

Shepherd.

I'le keep thy sheep whilst thou shalt play; Delight shall make each Moneth a May.

Shepherdess.

Those pleasant are unthrifty hours.

Shepherd.

Thou shalt have the choycest flowers, wax and Hony, milk & wool, of ripest fruits thy belly full.

Shepherdess.

My flocks I'le keep by thine.

Shepherd.

Not so, but let them undistinguisht go.

Shepherdess.

I can afford no more. Ah cease!

Shepherd.

Love come so far may yet increase.

Shepherdess.

Each day I'le grant a kiss.

Shepherd.

Our blisses must not conclude, but spring from kisses.

Shepherdess.

Then Shepherd love thy fill.

Shepherd.

I shall, who knows how much loves not at all.

Chorus.

Then draw we both our flocks up hither, That we may pitch, that we may pitch our folds together. Amidst our chast imbracements meet, our selves as blameless as our sheep.

A Dialogue betwixt an Nymph and a Shepherd.

Tell me Shepherd dost thou Love?
Nymph.

Tell me Shepherd dost thou Love?

Shepherd.

Tell me Nymph why wouldst thou know?

Nymph.

Thy wandring Flocks that without guide doth Rove thy blubber'd Eyes, that still with teares doth flow, makes me to ask.

Shep.

I do.

Nymph.

Dear Shepherd tell me who?

Shep.

I Love a Nymph, from whose bright Eyes Phœbe doth her brightness borrow, where Love did first my heart surprize, where since hath sate my sorrow.

Chorus together.

Love sits inthron'd within the circle of bright Eyes.

Nymph.

But tell me Shepherd, doth her Vertues Beauty equal?

Shep.

As She in Beauty doth all else excel, so are her Vertues without parallel;

Nymph.

Doth She disdain thee?

Shep.

No.

Nymph.

Why griev'st thou then?

Shep.

Because her love is only worthy of the gods, not men.

Chorus.

Loves chiefest joy is but a pleasing anguish, who lives in Love, doth dying live, and living languish.

A Dialogue between Strephon and Phillis.

Shepherd in faith I cannot stay
Phillis.

Shepherd in faith I cannot stay, my wandring flocks call me away.

Strephon.

Phillis, I swear, since I have caught thee now, upon thy rosie lips I'le pay my vow.

Phillis.

Who lives in love, may not by force constrain.

Strephon.

Where imprecation false oaths must obtain.

Phillis.

I prethee Strephon leave me.

Strephon.

Dear Phillis, leave to contemn me.

Phillis.

Nay, then I see, nay then I see, I must my selfe defend.

Strephon.

Vain is all defence and art.

Phillis.

Cruel, cruel, thou dost of breath bereave me.

Chorus.

Since I have thee e're I part, I'le smother thee with kisses, printing on thy lips, printing on thy lips a thousand such as this is. Thus Strephon bold laid down his lovely Phillis. And kist her breathless, and kist her breathless upon a bank of Lillies.

A Dialogue between Venus and Vulcan.

Vulcan , Vulcan, O Vulcan, my Love!
Venus.

Vulcan , Vulcan, O Vulcan, my Love!

Vulcan.

Who cals? Who names me here, 'mongst flames?

Venus.

Sweet, hear my plaint, give sorrow ease.

Vulcan.

Thy sacred power who dares displease?

Venus.

Alas, forlorn Cupid! my wayward Son doth scorn Loves just decree, my awfull hest and heavenly Deitie.

Vulcan.

Is he so bold? well, for thy sake, I that his Arrows heads have us'd to make of piercing steel, which Lovers feel, will temper lead, whose force is dull, and stroke is dead. So that henceforth all men may blithly sing, Cupid's no God, his Bow a Toy, his Shaft no fearful thing.

Chorus.

So that henceforth all men may blithly sing, Cupid's no God, his Bow a Toy, his Shafts no fearful thing.

A Dialogue between Charon and Philomel.

Charon , O gentle Charon!
Phil.

Charon , O gentle Charon! let me woo thee with tears, and pity now to come to me.

Char.

What voyce so sweet and charming do I hear? Say what thou art?

Phil.

I prethee first draw near.

Char.

A sound I hear, but nothing yet I see: Speak where thou art?

Phil.

O Charon, pitty me! I am a shade, & though no name I tell, my mournfull voyce will say I'm Philomel.

Char.

What's that to me? I waft, nor fish, nor fowl, nor beast, Fond thing, but only humane souls.

Phil.

Alas for me!

Char.

Shame on thy warbling note, that made me hoise my sail, and bring my boat, but Ile return: what mischief brought thee hither?

Phil.

A

deal of love, and much, much grief together.

Char.

What's thy request?

Phil.

That since she's now beneath that fed my life, I follow her in death.

Char.

And's that all? I'm gone.

Phil.

For love I pray thee.

Char.

Talk not of love, all pray, but no souls pay me.

Phil.

I'le give thee sighs and tears.

Char.

Can tears pay scores for patching sails, or mending boat, or oars?

Phil.

I'le beg a penny, or I'le sing so long, till thou shalt say I'ave pay'd thee in a Song.

Char.

Why, then begin.

Chorus

both together.
And all the while we make our sloathful passage o're the Stygian Lake, thou and Ile sing, thou and Ile sing, to make these dull shades merry; who else with tears will doubtless drown our Ferry.

A Dialogue between Thyrsis and Damon.

Damon.

Thyrsis , kind Swain, come near, and lend a sigh, a tear, to thy sad Friend; Forsaken Damon cals.

Thyrsis.

Poor Wight, I come; But wherefore in this plight? Thine eyes are red, thy griefs are swelling: Tell them, Sorrow's half cur'd by telling.

Damon.

Take then the cause of all my woes, Phillis is gone.

Thyrsis.

Why, let her go, 'tis but with other Nimphs and Swains, to sport upon the Neigb'ring Plains; she'l come again, be't but to find the Heart with thee she left behind.

Damon.

Alas, she's taken mine! Her's free as Ayre is gone unchain'd by me, though

I with such devotion sought her love, as to great Pan I ought, whilst my pale look and scatter'd sheep show'd I, nor thoughts, nor flocks could keep.

Thirsis.

Chere up, and lightly by her set.

Damon.

He never lov'd that could forget.

Chorus.

Love is a Riddle, which he best unties, whose reason's not betray'd by his eyes, whose reason's not betrayed, betrayed by his eyes.

A Glee to Bachus with Chorus for Three voyces to be sung between every verse.

To Bacchus we to Bacchus sing

To Bacchus we to Bacchus sing, with wine and mirth we'l conjure him, we'l conjure him, with wine and mirth we'l conjure him.

First verse.

By his Mothers Eye, and his Fathers Thigh, by her God brought to light, and his too glorious sight; By Junoes deceit, and by thy sad retreat, appear, appear, appear, appear in Bottles here.

Second verse.

By Ariadnes wrongs, and the false youths harms, by the Rock in his breast, and her tears sore

opprest, By the Beauty she fled and the Pleasures of a bed, appear, appear, appear, appear in Bottles here.

Third verse.

By this purple Wine thus pour'd on the shrine; and by this Beer glasse to the next kind Lass; by a Girle twice nine, that will claspe like a Vine, that will claspe thee like a Vine, appear, appear, appear, appear, in Bottles here.

Fourth verse.

By the men thou'st won, and the women undone; By the friendship thou hast made, and the secrets betray'd; By the power over sorrow, thus charm'd till to morrow. appear, appear, appear, appear in Bottles Beer.

To Bacchus, &c.

A Glee to the Cook.

Bring out the cold Chine

Bring out the cold Chine, the cold Chine to mee, and how Ile Charge him Come and see.

Brawn Tusked Brawn, well sowst and fine, with a precious Cup of Muscadine.

How shall I sing? How shall I sing? How shall wee looke in Honour in Honour of the Master Cooke?

The Pig shall turn Round, and Answer mee; Canst thou spare me a Sholder?

Awy Awy.

The Duck, Goose, and Capon: Good fellows all three shall dance thee an Antick, so shall the Turkey. But O! the cold Chine, the cold Chine for me.

With Brewis Ile 'noint thee from Head to th'Heel, shall make thee Run Nimbler then the new oyled Wheel.

With Pye-crust wee'l make thee the Eighth Wiseman to bee; but O! the cold Chine, the cold Chine, but O! the cold Chine for mee.

Chorus of three Voyces again.

How shall, &c.

The Tinker.

He that a Tinker a Tinker a Tinker would be

He that a Tinker a Tinker a Tinker would be, let him leave other Loves, and come listen to me: Though he travel all the Day, he comes Home late at Night, and Dallies, and Dallies with his Doxey, and Dreams of Delight.

His Pot and his Tost in the Morning he takes and all the Day long good Musick he makes: He wanders the World to Wakes and to Fairs, and casts his Cap, and casts his Cap at the Court and her Cares.

When to the Town the Tinker doth come,

Chorus.

O! how the wanton Wenches run.

Some bring him basons, some bring him boles; all Wenches pray him to stop up their holes.

Chorus.

Tink goes the Hammer, the Skillet and the Scummer. Come bring me the Copper Kettle for the Tinker, the Tinker, the Merry Merry Tinker, O! he is the Man of Metle, O! he is the Man of Metle.

A Glee.

Fly Boy, Fly Boy to the Cellars bottome

Fly Boy, Fly Boy to the Cellars bottome, view well your Quills and Bung, Sir: draw Wine to preserve the Lungs, Sir; not Rascally Wine, to Rot um. If the Quills run foule, be a trusty Soule, and Cane it; for the Health is such, an ill drop will much an ill drop will much profane it.