GREENES ARCADIA, OR MENAPHON: CA­MILLAES Alarum to slumber EV­PHVES in his Melancholy Cell at SILEXEDRA.

Wherein are descyphered, the variable effects of FORTVNE, the wonders of LOVE, the triumphs of inconstant TIME.

A worke, worthy the yongest eares for pleasure, OR, The grauest censures for principles.

By ROBERTVS GREENE, in Artibus Magister.

Omne tulit punctum.

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LONDON Printed by W. Stansby for I. Smethwicke, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstanes Church-yard vnder the Dyall, in Fleet-street. 1616.

TO THE GENTLEMEN STVDENTS OF BOTH VNIVERSITIES.

CVrteous, and wise, whose iudgements (not entangled with enuy) enlarge the deserts of the learned, by your liberall censures: vouchsafe to welcome your Scholler-like Shepherd, with such Vniuersitie entertain­ment, as either the nature of your bounty, or the custome of your common ciuility may affoord. To you he appeales that knew him ab extrema pueritia, whose placet hee accounts the plaudite▪ of his paines: thinking his day-labour was not altogether lauisht siue linea, if there be any thing at al in it, that doth olere Atticum in your estimate. I am not ignorant how eloquent our gowned age is grown of late, so that euery Mechanicall mate abhorreth the En­glish he was borne to, and plucks with a solemne periphra­sis, his vt vales from the inke-horne: which I impute, not so much to the perfection of Arts, as to the seruile imitation of vaine-glorious Trag [...]dians, who contend▪ not so seriously to excell in action, as to embowell the cloudes in a speech of comparison, thinking themselues more then initiated in Poets immortality, if they but once get Boreas by the beard, and the heauenly Bull by the deaw-lap. But herein I can­not so fully bequeath them to folly, as their ideot Art-ma­sters, that i [...]ude themselues to our eares, as the Alcumists of eloquence, who (mounted on the stage of arrogance) thinke to out-braue better Pe [...]s with the swelling bum­bast of bragging blanke verse. Indeede, it may bee, the in­grafted ouer [...]ow of some kil [...] cōceit, that ouer-cloyeth [Page] their imagination with a more then drunken resolution, be­ing not extemporall in the inuention of any other meanes to vent their man-hood, commits the disgestion of their cholericke incumbrances, to the spacious volubilitie of a drumming decasillabon. Mongst this kinde of men, that re­pose eternitie in the mouth of a Player, I can but ingrosse some deep-read Schoolemen or Grammarians, who hauing no more learning in their skull, then will serue to take vp a commoditie, nor Art in their braiue, then was nourished in a Seruing-mans idlenesse, will take vpon them to bee the ironicall Censors of all, when God and Poetrie doth know they are the simplest of all. To leaue all these to the mercy of their Mother tongue, that feed on nought but the crums that fall from the [...]ranslators trencher, I come (sweet friend) to thy Arcadian Menaphon, whose attyre (though not so stately, yet comely) doth intitle thee aboue all other, to that temperatum dicendi genus, which Tully in his Orator termeth true eloquence. Let other men (as they please) praise the Mountayne that in seuen yeeres bringeth forth a Mouse, or the Italianate Pen, that of a packet of pilfris, affoords the Presse a pamphlet or two in an Age, and then in disguised array vaunts Ouids and Plutarchs plumes as their owne: but giue mee the man, whose extemporall veine in any hu­mour, will excell our greatest Art-Masters deliberate thoughts, whose inuentions quicker then his eye, will chal­lenge the prowdest Rhetorician, to the contention of like perfection, with like expedition.

What is he among Students so simple, that cannot bring foorth ( tanquam aliquando) some or other thing singular, sleeping betwixt euery sentence? What is not Maroes twelue yeeres toyle, that so famed his twelue Aeneidos? Or Peter Ramus sixteene yeeres paines, that so praised his petty Logicke? How is it then, our drowping wits should so wonder at an exquisite line, that was his Masters day-la­bour? Indeede I must needs say, the descending yeeres from the Philosophers Athens, haue not beene supplied with such present Orators, as were able in any English veine to be elo­quent [Page] of their owne, but either they must borrow inuention of Ariosto, & his countrimen, take vp choice of words by ex­change in Tullies Tusculans, & the Latine Historiographers store-houses, similitudes, nay whole sheets, & tractates ver­batim, from the plentie of Plutarch and Plinie: and to con­clude, their whole methode of writing, from the libertie of Comicall fictions, that haue succeeded to our Rhetoricians by a second imitation; so that wel may the Adage, Nil dictum quod non dictum prius, bee the most iudiciall estimate of our latter Writers. But the hunger of our vnsatiate humorists, being such as it is, ready to swallow all draffe without diffe­rence, that insinuates it selfe to their senses vnder the name of delights, imploies ofttimes many thredbare wits, to emp­tie their inuention of their Apish deuices, and talke most su­perficially of Policie, as those that neuer ware gowne in the Vniuersitie; wherein they reuiue the old said Adage, Sus Mineruam, and cause the wiser to quippe them with Asi­nui ad lyram. Would Gentlemen and riper iudgements ad­mit my motion of moderation in a matter of folly, I would perswade them to physicke their faculties of seeing and hea­ring, as the Sabaeans doe their dulled senses with smelling: who (as Strabo reporteth) ouer-cloyd with such odoriferous sauours as the naturall increase of their Country (Balsamum, Amomum, with Myrrhe and Frankincense) sends forth, re­fresh their nostrills with the vnsauourie sent of the pitchy flame, that Euphrates cast vp, & the cōiagíous fumes of goats beards burned: so would I haue them, being surfeited vna­wares with the sweet saciety of eloquence, which the lauish of our copious language may procure, to vse the remedie of contraries, and recreate their rebated wits; not as they did, with the senting of slime or Goats beards burned, but with the ouer-seeing of that sublime dicendi genus, which walkes abroad for waste paper in each Seruing-mans pocket, and the otherwhile pervsing of our Gothamists barbarisme; so should the opposite comparison of Puritie, expell the infe­ction of Absurditie, and their ouer-racked Rhetoricke, bee the Ironicall recreation of the Reader.

[Page] But so farre discrepant is the idle vsage of our vnexperi­enced and illiterated Pu [...]es from this prescription, that a tale of Ioane of Brainfords will, and the vnlucky Frumenty, will be as soone entertayned into their Libraries, as the best Poeme that euer Tasso eterniz'd: which being the effect of an vndiscerning iudgemēt, makes drosse as valuable as gold, and losse as wel-come as gaine; the Glow-worme mentio­ned in Aesops Fables, namely, the Apes folly, to be mistaken for fire, when as God wot, poore soules, they haue nought but their toyle for their heate, their paines for their sweat, and (to bring it to our English Prouerbe) their labour for their trauell. Wherein I can but resemble them to the Pan­ther, who is so greedy of mens excrements, that if they bee hanged vp in a vessell higher then his reach, hee soone [...] kills himselfe with the ouer-stretching of his windlesse body, then hee will cease from his intended enterprise. Oft haue I obserued what I now set downe: a secular wit that hath li­ued all dayes of his life by, what doe you lack? to be more iudiciall in matters of conceit, then our quadrant crepun­dious, that spit ergo in the mouth of euery one they meete: yet those and these are affectionate to dogged detracting, as the most poysonous Pasquils, any durty-mouthed Mar­tin, or Momus euer composed, is gathered vp with greedi­nesse, before it fall to the ground, and bought at the dearest, though they smell of the Priplers lauender, halfe a yee [...]e af­ter [...]or I know not how the minde of the meanest is [...]ed with this folly, that they impute singularitie, to him that slanders priuily, and count it a great piece of Art in an inke­horne man, in any Papsterly termes whatsoeuer, to expose his Supers [...]ours to enuy. I will not deny, but in Scholer-like matters of controuersie, a quicker stile may passe as com­mendable, and that a qui [...] to an Asse is as good as a goad to an Oxe: but when the irregular I [...]eot, that was vp to the eares in [...], before euer hee met with probabile in the Vnluersitle, shall leaue pro & contra, before hee ca [...] [...]carcely pronou [...]ce it, and come to correct common-weales, that neuer heard of the name of Magistrate, before hee came to [Page] Cambridge, it is no maruaile if euery Ale-house vaunt the [...] ­ble of the world turned vpside downe, [...] the Child bea­teth his Father, and the Asse whipp [...]th hi [...] Master, Bul lest I might seeme with these night- [...]owe [...], Nimi [...] [...] in a­liena republica, I will turne backe to my first Text of Studies of delight, and talke a little in friendship with a few of our triuiall Translators. It is a common practice now a dayes a­mongst a sort of shifting Companions, that runne through euery Art, and thriue by none, to leaue the [...]rade of No [...]e­riut, whereto they were borne, and busie themselues with the indeuors of Art, that could scarcely L [...]nize their neck-verse, if they should haue neede: yet English Seneca read by Candle-light, yeelds many good sentences, as Bloud is a begger, and so forth: and if you intreate him faire in a fro­sty morning, hee will affoord you whole Hamlets, I should say, handfuls of Tragicall speeches. But, O griefe! Tempus ed [...]x rerum, whats that will last alwayes? The Sea exhaled by drops, will in continuance bee drie: and Seneca let bloud [...] by line, and page by page, at length must needes die to our stage; which makes his famished followers to i­mitate the Kid in Aesope, who enamoured with the Foxes new-fangles, forsooke all hopes of life to leape into a new occupation: and these men renouncing all possibilities of credite or estimation, to intermeddle with Italian Transla­tions: Wherein, how poorely they haue plodded, (as those that are neither Pouerzal-men, nor are able to distinguish of Articles) let all indifferent Gentlemen that haue trauel­led in that tongue; discerne by their two-penny Pamphlets. And no maruell though their [...]ome-borne mediocritie bee such in this matter; for what can bee hoped of those, that thrust Elisium into hel, and haue not learned so long as they haue liued in the Spheares, the iust measure of the Horizon without an hexameter? Sufficeth them to bodge vp a blanke verse with ifs and ands, and other while for recreation after their Candle-stuffe, hauing starched their beards most curi­ously, to make a Peripateticall path into the inner parts of the Citie, and spend two or three houres in turning ouer [Page] French Dowdie, where they attract more infection in one minute, then they can do eloquence all daies of their life, by [...] with any Authors of like argument. But lest in this declamatorie veins, I should condemne all, and com­mend none, I will propound to your learned imitation, those men of import, that haue laboured with credite in this lau­dable kinde of Translation. In the forefront of whom, I can­not but place that aged Father Erasmus, that inuested most of our Greeke writers in the robes of the ancient Romanes; in whose traces Philip Melancthon, Sadolet, Plantine, and many other reuerend Germanes insisting, haue reedified the ruines of our decayed Libraries, and maruellously enriched the Latine tongue with the expence of then toyle. Not long after, their emulation being transported into England, eue­ry priuate Scholer, William Turner, and who not, b [...]ganne to vaunt their [...]mattering of Latine, in English impressions. But amongst others in that age, Sir Thomas Eliots elegance did seuer it selfe from al equals, although Sir Thomas Moore with his comical wit, at that instant was not altogether idle: yet was not knowledge fully confirmed in her Monarchy a­mongst vs, till that most famous and fortunate Nurse of all learning, Saint Iohns in Cambridge, that at that time was as an Vniuersity within it selfe, shining so farre aboue all other Houses, Halls, and Hospitalls whatsoeuer, that no Colledge in the Towne, was able to cōpare with the Tithe of her Stu­dents, hauing (as I haue heard graue men of credit report) moe Candles light in it, euery Winter morning before foure of the clock, then the foure of the clock Bell gaue strokes: till she (I say) as a pittying Mother, put to her helping hand, and sent from her [...]ruitfull wombe, sufficient Scholers, both to support her owne Weale, as also to supply all other infe­riour foundations defects, and namely, that royall crection of Trinitie Colledge, which the Vniuersitie Orator in an E­pistle to the Duke o [...], Somerset, aptly termed Colonia deducta, from the Suburbs of Saint Iohns. In which extraordinary conception, Vno partis in rempublicam prodiere, the Exche­quer of eloquence, Sir Iohn Checke, a man of men, superna­turally [Page] traded in all tongues, Sir Iohn Mason, Doctor Watson, Redman, Ascam, Grindal, Leuer, [...] all which haue eyther by their priuate readings, or [...] workes, re [...]ur­ged the errours of Arte, expelled from their puritie, and set be­fore our eyes a more perfect methode of studie.

But how ill their precepts haue prospered with our idle age, that leaue the fountaines of Sciences, to follow the Ri­uers of Knowledge, their ouer-fraught Studies, with trifling compendiaries, may testifie: for I know not how it commeth to passe, by the doting practice of our Diuinitie Du [...]es, that striue to make their Pupils pulpit-men, before they are recon­ciled to Priscian: but those yeeres which should be imployed in Aristotle, are expired in Epitomies, and well too, they may haue so much Catechisme vacation, to take vp a little refuse Philosophy.

And heere I could enter into a large fielde of inuectiue a­gainst our abiect abbreuiations of Artes, were it not growne to a new fashion among our Nation, to vaunt the pride of contraction in euery manuarie action: insomuch, that the Pater-noster, which was wont to fill a sheet of Paper, is writ­ten in the compasse of a penny: whereupon one merrily as­sumed that Prouerbe to be deriued, No penny, no pater noster. Which their nice curtayling putteth mee in minde of the cu­stome of the Scythians, who if they had beene at any time di­stressed with famine, tooke in their g [...]dles shorter, and swad­dled themselues straighter, to the intent, no vacuum bei [...]g left in their intrailes, hunger should not so much tyrannize ouer their stomackes: euen so these men oppressed with a greater penurie of Arte, doe pound their capacitie in barren Com­pendiums, and bound their base humours in the beggerly straights of a hungry Analysis, lest longing after that infinitum, which the pouertie of their conceit cannot compasse, they sooner yeeld vp their youth to destinie, then their heart to vn­derstanding.

How is it then such bungling practicioners in principles, should euer profit the Common-wealth by their negligent paines, who haue no more cunning in Logicke or Dialogue [Page] Latine, then appertaines to the literall construction of eyther: neuerthelesse, it is daily apparant to our domesticall eyes, that there is none so forward to publish their imperfections, either in their trade of glose or translations, as those that are more vnlearned then ignorant, and lesse conceiuing than Infants. Yet dare I not impute absurditie to all of that societie, al­though some of them haue set their names to their simplicitie. Who euer my priuate opinion condemneth as saultie, Master Gascoigne is not to bee abridged of his deserued esteeme, who first beate the path to that perfection which our best Poets haue aspired to since his departure, whereto hee did ascend, by comparing the Italian with the English, as Tully did Graeca cum Latinis. Neither was M. Turberuile the worst of his time, though in translating hee attributed too much to the necessitie of the time. And in this page of praise, I cannot omit aged Arthur Golding, for his industrious toyle in Eng­lishing Ouids Metamorphosis, besides many other exquisite e­ditions of diuinitie, turned by him out of the French tongue into our owne. M. Phaer likewise is not to be forgot, in regard of his famous Virgil, whose heauenly verse, had it not beene blemished by his hautie thoughts, England might haue long insulted his wit, and corrigat qui potest haue beene subscribed to his workes. But Fortune, the Mistris of change, with a pit­tying compassion, respecting Master Stanihursts prayse, would that Phaer should fall, that hee might ryse, whose he­roicall poetry infired, I should say inspired with an hexameter furie, recalled to life, what euer histed Barbarisme hath been buried this hundred yeere: and reuiued by his ragged quill such carterly varietie, as no Hodge ploughman in a Country but would haue held as the extremitie of clownerie: a pat­terne whereof I will propound to your iudgements, as neere as I can, being part of one of his descriptions of a tempest, which is thus.

Then did he make heauens vault to rebound,
with rounce robble bobble,
Of ruffe raffe roaring,
with thwicke thwack▪ thurlerie bouncing.

[Page] Which strange language of the firmament, neuer subiect be­fore to our common phrase, make vs that are not vsed to ter­m [...]nate heauens mouing in the accents of any voice, esteeme of their triobulare Interpreter, as of some Thrasonicall huffe snuffe: for so terrible was his stile to all milde eares, as would haue affrighted our peaceable Poets from intermedling here­after, with that quarrelling kinde of verse, had not sweet Ma­ster France, by his excellent translation of Master Thomas Watsons sugred Amintas, animated their dulled spirits, to such high-witted indeuours. But I know not how, their ouer-ti­merous cowardise hath stoode in awe of enuie, that no man since him durst imitate any of the worst of those Romane wonders in English: which makes me thinke, that either the louers of mediocritie are very many, or that the number of good Poets are very small, and in truth, (Master Watson ex­cept, whom I mentioned before) I know not almost any of late dayes, that hath shewed himselfe singular in any speciall Latine Poeme: whose Amintas, and translated Antigone, may march in equipage of honour, with any of your ancient Po­ets: I will not say but we had a Haddon, whose pen vvould haue challenged the Lawrell from Homer, together with Car that came as neere him as Virgil to Theocritus. But Thomas Newton with his Leiland, and Gabriel Haruey, with two or three other, is almost all the store that is left vs at this houre. Epitaphers, and position Poets, wee haue more then a good many, that swarme like Crowes to a dead carcasse, but flie like Swallowes in the Winter, from any continuate subiect of wit.

The efficient whereof, I imagine to issue from the vpstart discipline of our reformato [...]ie Churchmen, who account wit vanitie, and Poetry impietie: whose errour, although the ne­cessitie of Philosophie might confute, which li [...]s couched most closely vnder darke fables profunditie, yet I had rather referre it as a disputatiue plea by Diuines, then set it downe as a determinate position in my vnexperienced opinion. But how euer their dissentious iudgements should decree in their after-noone sessions of ansit, the priuate truth of my discoue­red [Page] Creede in this controuersie is this, that as that beast was thought scarce worthy to be sacrificed to the Aegyptian Epa­phus▪ who had not some or other blacke spot on his skin: so I deeme him farre vnworthy the name of a scholler, and so consequently to sacrifice his endeuours to Art, that is not a Poet, either in whole or in part.

And heere peraduenture, some desperate quipper vvill canuaze my purposed comparison Plus vltra, reconciling the allusion of the blacke spot, to the blacke pot, which maketh our Poets vndermeale Muses too mutinous, as euery stanzo they pen after dinner, is full pointed with a stabbe. Which their dagger drunkennesse, although it might bee excused with tam Marti, quàm Mercurio, yet will I couer it as well as I may with that prouerbiall foecundi cal [...]es, that might well haue beene doore-keeper to the kanne of Sile [...]us, when nodding on his Asse trapped vvith Iuie, hee made his moist nose-cloth the pausing intermedium twixt euery nappe. Let frugall schollers, and fine-fingered nouices, take their drinke by the ounce, and their wine by the halfe-penny worths: but it is for a Poet to examine the pottle pots, and gage the bot­tome of whole gallons, qui bene vult poie in, debet ante pinion. A pot of blew burning ale, with a fiery flaming toste, is as good as Pallas with the nine Muses on Pernassus top: with­out the which, in vaine they may cry, O thou my Muse, inspire mee with some pen, when they want certaine liquid sacrifice to rouze her forth her denne.

Pardon mee (Gentlemen) though somewhat merrily I glance at their immoderate folly, who affirme, that noman writes with conceit, except hee take counsell of the cup: nor would I haue you thinke, that Theonino dente, I arme mystile against all, since I doe know the moderation of many Gen­tlemen of that studie, to bee so farre from infamie, as their verse from equalitie: whose sufficiencie, were it as well seene into, by those of higher place, as it wanders abroad vnre­warded in the mouthes of vngratefull monsters, no doubt but the remembrance of Macenas liberalitie extended to Maro, and men of like qualitie, would haue left no memory to that [Page] prouerbe of pouertie, Si nihil attuleris, ibis Homere foras. Tush, say our English Italians, the finest wits our climate sends forth, are but drie-brained dolts in comparison of other coun­tries: whom if you interrupt with redde rationem; they will tell you of Petrarch, Tasso, Celiano, with an infinite number of others, to whom if I should oppose Chaucer, Lydgate, Gower, with such like, that liued vnder the tyrannie of igno­rance, I doe thinke their best louers would bee much discon­tented with the collation of contraries, if I should write o­uer all their heads, Haile fellow, well met. One thing I am sure of, that each of these three haue vented their meeters with as much admiration in English, as euer the proudest A­riosto did his verse in Italian.

What should I come to our Court, where the other-while vacations of our grauer Nobilitle are prodigall of more pom­pous wit, and choice of words, then euer tragicke Tasso could attaine to? But as for pastorall poems, I will not make the comparison, lest our countrimens credite should be dis­countenanced by the contention: who, although they cannot fare with such inferiour facilitie, yet I know, would carry the bucklers full easily from all forraine brauers, if their subie­ctum circa quod, should sauour of any thing hautie. And should the challenge of deepe conceit be intruded by any for­rainer, to bring our English wits to the touchstone of Art, I would preferre diuine Master Spencer, the miracle of wit, to bandie line by line for my life, in the honour of England, a­gainst Spaine, France, Italy, and all the world. Neither is hee the onely swallow of our Summer, (although Apollo, if his Tripos were vp againe, would pronounce him his Socra­tes,) but hee being forborne, there are extant about Lon­don, many most able men, to reuiue Poetry, though it were executed ten thousand times, as in Platoes, so in Puritans Common-wealth: as namely for example, Mathew Roy­don, Thomas Achlow, and George Peele: the first of whom, as he hath shewed himselfe singular in the immortall Epitaph of his beloued Astrophell, besides many other most absolute Comike inuentious (made more publike by euery mans [Page] praise, then they can bee by my speech,) so the second hath more then once or twice manifested hi [...] deepe-witted schol­lership in places of credite: and for the last, though not the least of them all, I dare commend him vnto all that know him, as the chiefe supporter of pleasance now liuing, the Atlas of Poetrie, and primus verborum Artifex: whose first increase, the arraignement of Paris might pleade to your o­pinions, his pregnant dexteritie of wit, and manifold varie­tie of inuention, wherein ( me iudice) hee goeth a step be­yond all that write. Sundry other sweete Gentlemen I doe know, that wee haue vaunted their pens in priuate deuices, and tricked vp a company of taffatie fooles with their fea­thers, whose beautie, if our Poets had not pecked with the supply of their periwigs, they might haue antickt it vntill this time, vp and downe the Countrey with the King of Fai­ries, and diued euery day at the pease-porredge ordinary with Delfrigus.

But Tolass [...] hath forgotten that it was sometime sacked, and beggers, that euer they carried their fardels on footback: and in truth no maruaile, when as the deserued reputation of one Roscius, is of force to enrich a rabble of counterfeits: Yet let subiects for all their insolence, dedicate a De propundis e­uery morning to the preseruation of their Caesar, left their increasing indignities returne them ere long their iuggling to mediocritie, and they bewaile in weeping blankes, the wane of their Monarchie.

As Poetrie hath beene honoured in those her fore-named professors, so it hath not beene any whit disparaged by William Warners absolute Albions. And heere Authoritie hath made a full point: in whose reuerence insisting, I cease to expose to your sport the picture of those Pamphleters, and Poets, that make a patrimonie of In speech, and more then a younger brothers inheritance of their Abcie. Reade fa­uourably, to incourage me in the firstlings of my folly, and perswade your selues, I will persecute those Idiots and their heires vnto the third generation, that haue made Art banke­rout of her ornaments, and sent Poetry a begging vp and [Page] downe the Countrey. It may be, my Anatomie of Absur­dities may acquaint you ere long with my skill in Surgerie, wherein the diseases of Arte more merrily discouered, may make our maimed Poets put together their blankes vnto the building of an Hospitall.

If you chance to meet it in Paules, shaped in a new sute of similitudes, as if like the eloquent Apprentice of Plutarch, it were propped at seuen yeeres end in double apparell, thinke his Master hath fulfilled couenants, and onely cancelled the Indentures of dutie. If I please, I will thinke my ignorance indebted vnto you that applaud it: if not, what rests, but that I be excluded from your courtesie, like Apocrypha from your Bibles?

How euer, yours euer: Thomas Nash.
DElicious words, the life of wanton wit,
That doth inspire our soules with sweet content,
Why hath your Father Hermes thought it fit,
Mine eyes should surfet by my hearts consent?
Full twentie Summers haue I fading seene,
And twentie Floraes in their golden guise:
Yet neuer viewde I such a pleasant Greene,
As this whose garnishe gleades comparde, deuise.
Of all the flōwers a Lilly once I lou'd,
Whose labouring beautie brancht it selfe abroad.
But now olde age his glory hath remou'd,
And greener obiects are mine eyes abroad.
No Countrey to the downes of Arcadie,
Where Aganippes euer springing wels
Doe moist the meades with bubbling melodie,
And makes me muse what more in Delos dwels.
There feeds our Menaphons celestiall Muse,
There makes his Pipe his pastorall report:
Which strained now a note aboue his vse,
Fore-tels hee'le ne're come chaunt of Thoacs sport.
Reade all that lift, and read till you mislike,
To condemne who can, so Enuie be not Iudge:
No, reade who can, swell more higher, lest it shreeke.
Robin, thou hast done well, care not who grudge.
Henry Vpcher.

The reports of the Shepheards.

AFter that the wrath of mightie Ioue had wrapt Arcadia with noysome pestilence, insomuch that the ayre yéelding preiudiciall sauour, sée­med to be peremptory in some fatal resolution, Democles Soueraigne & King of that famous Continent, pittying the sinister accidents of his people, being a man as iust in his censures, as royall in his possessions, as carefull for the weal [...] of his Countrey, as the countenance of his Diademe, thinking that vnpeopled Cities were corros [...]nes in Princes consciences, that the strength of his subiects was the sinewes of his Dominions, and that euery Crowne must containe a care, not onely to win honour by forraine conquest, but in maintaining dig­nitie with ciuill and domesticall in [...]ghts. Democle▪ ground­ing his argument vpon these premisses, coueting to be coun­ted. Pater patria, calling a Parliament together, whither all his Nobilitie incited by summons made their repaire, elec­ted two of his chiefe Lords to passe vnto Delphos, at Apollos Oracle, to heare the fatall sentence, eyther of their future mi­sery, or present remedie. They hauing their charge, posting from Arcadia to the Tripos, where Pithia sate, the sacred Nimph that deliuered out Apollos Dylonimas, offering (as their manner [...] Orizons and presents, as well to in­treat by deuotion, as to perswade by bountie, they had retur­ned from Apollo this doome.

When Neptune riding on the Southerne Seas,
Shall from the bosome of his Lomman yeeld,
The' Arcadian wonder, men and [...] to please:
Plentie in pride shall march amidst the field.
Dead men shall warre, and vnborne babes shall frowne,
And with their fawchons hew their footmen downe:
When Lambes haue Lyons for their surest guide,
And Plannets rest vpon th' Arcadian hils:
[Page] When swelling Seas haue neyther ebbe nor'tide,
When equall bankes the Ocean margine fils:
Then looke Arcadians for a happy time,
And sweet content within your troubled clime.

No sooner had Pithia deliuered this scroll to the Lords of Arcadia, but they departed and brought it to Democles, who causing the Oracle to bee read amongst the distressed commons, found the Delphian censure more full of doubts to amaze, then fraught with hope to comfort: thinking ra­ther that the anger of GOD sent a peremptory presage of ruine, then a probable ambiguitie to applaud any hope of remedie: yet loth to haue his carefull subiects fall into the balefull Labyrinth of deshaire, Democles beganne to dis­course vnto them, that the interpreters of Apollos secrets were not the conceits of humane reason, but the successe of long expected euents, that Comets did portend at the first blaze, but tooke effect in the dated bosome of the destinies: that Oracles were fortold at the Delphian caue, but were shapte out and fluished in the Counsell house. With such perswasiue arguments Democles appealed the distressed thoughts of his doubtfull Countrey-men, and commanded by Proclamation, that no man should pry into the quiddi­ties of Apollo▪ answere, lest sundry censures of his diuine secrecy should trouble Arcadia with some sudden [...]tinie. The King thus smoothing the beate of his cares, rested a melancholy man in his Court: hiding vnder his head the double-faced figure of Ianus, as well to [...] the Skies of other mens conceits with smiles, as to furnish out his owne dumps with thoughts. But as other beastes leuell their lookes at the countenance of the Lyon, and birds make wings as the Eagles flye: so Regis ad arbitrium totus componitur orbis: the people were measured by the minde of their Soueraigne: and what stormes soeuer they smoothered in priuate conceite, yet they made hay, and cryed holiday in outward appearance: insomuch that euery man repay­red to his owne home, and fell eyther vnto pleasures or [Page] labours, as their liuing or content allowed them.

Whiles thus Arcadie rested in a silent quiet, Menaphon the Kinge shepheard, a man of high account among the Swaines of Arcadia, loued of the Nimphes, as the para­gon of all their country yongsters, walking solitary downe to the shore, to see if any of his Ewes and Lambes were straggled downe to the Strand to browze on the Sea Iuy, whereof they take speciall delight to feede; hee found his stocke [...] gazing vpon the Promentory Mountaines hardly: whereon resting himselfe on a hill that ouer-peered the great Mediterraneum, noting how Phoebus fetched his Laualtes [...]n the purple Plaines of Neptunus, as if hee had meant to haue courted Thet is in the royaltie of his robes: the Dol­phines (the sweet comeiters of Musike) fetcht their carreers on the calmed waues, as if A [...]ion had touched the strings of his siluer sounding instrument: the Mermaides thrust­ing their heads from the bosome of Amphitrite, sate on the mounting bankes of Neptune, day [...] their watry tresses in the Sunne- [...] Ae [...]dus for bare▪ to throwe abroade his gusts on the slumbring browes of the Sea-god, as giuing Triron leaue to pleasure his Quéene with destred melodie, and Protens libertie to sollowe his flockes without dis­quiet.

Menaphon looking ouer the champion of Arcady, to see if the continent was as full of smiles, as the Seas were of fauours, saw the shrubbes as in a dreame with delightfull harnwnie, and the birds that chaunted on their branches, not disturbed with the least breath of a fauourable Zephi­rus. Seeing thus the accord of the land and Sea, casting a fresh gaze o [...] the water-Nimphes, hee beganne to consider, how Venus was faigned by the Poets to spring of the froth of the seas: which dra [...]e him straight into a deepe con­iecture of the inconstancie of loue, that as if Luna were his lead-starre, had euery [...] ebbes and tydes, sometime ouer-flowing the bankes of Fortune with a gracious looke lightened from the eyes of a fauourable louer, other whiles ebbing to the dangerous shelfe of despairs, with the pier­cing [Page] frowne of a froward Mistresse. Menaphon in this browne studie, calling to minde certaine Aphorismes that Auarreon had pen [...] downe as principles of loues follies, be­ing as deepe an enemie to fancie, as Nar [...]issus was to asserti­on, beganne thus to scoffe at Venus Deitie.

Menaphon, thy mindes fauours are greater than thy wealths fortunes, thy thoughts higher than thy birth, and thy priuate conceit better then thy publique esteeme. Thou art a shepheard, Menaphon, who in feeding of thy [...]oike findest out natures secrecis, and in [...]rouenting thy lambes preiudice, conceitest the astronomicall motions of the hea­uens: holding thy sheepe-walkes to yeeld as great Philo­sophie, as the ancients discourse in their learned Acade­mies. Thou countest labour as the Indians doe their Chry­socolla, wherewith they try euery mettall, and thou examine euery action. Content sitteth in thy minde as Neptune in his Sea-throne, who with his trident mare appeaseth euery storme. When thou seest the heauens frowne, thou thinkest on thy faults, and a cleere skie putteth, thee in minde of grace: the Summers glory tells thee of youths vanitie: the winters parched leaues, of ages declining weaknesse. Thus in a mirrour thou measurest thy deeds with equall and con­siderate motions, & by being a Shepheard findest that which Kings want in their royalties. Enuy ouer-looketh thée, rent­ing with the windes the Pine-trees of Ida, when the Affrick shrubs waue not a leafe with the tempest. Thine eyes are vailde with content, that thou canst not gaze so high as am­bition, and for loue: and with that in naming of loue, the shepheard fell into a great laughter. Loue, Menaphon, why of all follies that euer Poets fained, or men saulted with, this foolish imagination of loue is the greatest. Venus for­sooth for her wanton escapes must bee a goddesse, and her bastard a Deitie: Cupid must bee yong and euer a boy, to prooue that loue is fond and witlesse: wings to make him inconstant, and arrowes whereby to shew him fearefull: blind (or all were not worth a pin) to prooue that Cupids le­uell is both without aime and reason: thus is the god, and [Page] such are [...] as our Shepheards of Arca­die settle themselues to fancy, and weare the caracters of Ve­nus stampt in their fore-heads, straight their attire must bee quaint, their lookes full of amors, as their, gods [...]uiuer is full of arrowes: their eyes holding smiles and teares, to leape out at their Mistris fauours or her frownes: sighes must flie as figures of their thoughts, and euery wrinckle must be tempred with a passion: thus suted in outware proportion, and made excellent in inward constitution, they straight re­paire to take view of their Mistris beauty. She as one ob­seruant vnto Venus principles, first, [...]ieth loue in her tresses, and wraps affection in the [...] of her haire; snaring our swaines in her lockes, as Mars in the net, holding in her forhead Fortunes Kalender, either to assigne dismall influence, or some fauourable aspect. If a wrinckle ap­peare in her brow, then our Shepheard must put on his wor­king day face, and [...] nought but dolefull madrigals of sorrow; if a dimple grace her cheeke, the heauens can­not prooue fatall to our kinde-hearted louers; if shee seeme coy, then poems of death mounted vpon deepe drawne sighs, flie from their master to sue for some fauour, alleadging how death at the least may date his misery; to be briefe, as vpon the shoares of [...], the windes, continue neuer one day in one quarter, so the thoughtes of a louer ne­uer continue scarce a minute in one passion; but as Fortunes globe, so is Fancies case; variable and incon­stant.

If louers sorrowes then bee like Sisiphus turmoiles, and their fauours like honny bought with [...]all; let poore Me­naphon then liue at labour, and make esteeme of Venus as of Mars his Coucubine; and as the Cimbrians hold their idols in account but in euery tempest, so make Cupid a god, but when thou art ouer pained with passions, and then Menaphon will neuer loue: for as long as thou tem­perest thy hande with labours, thou canst not fetter thy thoughts with loues. And in this Satyricall humour smi­ling at his owne conceits, hee tooke his pipe in his hand, [Page] and betweene euery-report of his instrument, [...] a Stan­zo to this [...].

Menaphons Song.
Some say loue,
Foolish loue,
Doth rue and gouerne all the gods:
I say loue,
Inconstant loue,
Sets mens senses f [...]r [...] at ods.
Some sweare loue,
Smooth'd face loue,
Is sweetest sweet that men can haue:
I say loue,
Sowre loue,
Makes vertues yeeld as beauties slaue.
A bitter sweet, a folly worst of all,
That forceth wisedome to be follies thrall:
Loue is sweet:
Where in sweet?
In fading pleasures that doe shine:
Beauty sweet.
Is that sweet,
That yeelds sorrow for a gaine:
If loue's sweete,
Herein sweet,
That minutes ioyes are monthly woes:
Tis not sweete,
That is sweet,
No where, but where repentance growes:
Then loue who lift, i [...] beautie be so sowre,
Labour for me, loue rest in Princes bowre.

Menaphon hauing ended his roundelay, rose vp, think­ing to passe from the mountaine downe to the valley, ca­sting his eye to the sea side, espied certaine fragments of a broken ship floating vpon the waues, and sundry persons driuen vpon the shore like a calme, walking all wet and [Page] weary vpon the sands: wondring at this strange sight, hee stood amazed, yet destrous is sée the euent of this accident, hee shrowded himselfe to rest [...], till hee might per­ceiue what would happen: at last hee might descry it was a woman holding a childe in her armes, and an olde man directing her as it were hot guide. These three (as distres­sed wrackes) preserued by some further fore-pointing Fate, coueted to clime the Mountaine, the better to vse the fauour of the Sunne, to dry their drench [...] apparrell, at last crawled vp where poore Menaphon lay close, and resting them vnder a bush, the old man did nothing but send out sighes, and the wo­man ceased not from streaming forth riuolets of teares, that hung on her chéeks like y e drops of pearled dew vpō the riches of Flora. The poore babe was the touch stone of his mothers passions: for when hee smiled and lay laughing in her lad, were her heart neuer so deeply ouercharged with her present sorrowes: yet kissing the prettie Infant, shée lightned out smiles from those chéekes that were furrowed with continual sources of teares: but if he cryed, then sighes as smokes, and sobs as thunder-crackes, fore [...] those showres, that which redoubled distresse distilled from her eyes: thus with pretty inconstant passions trimming vp her baby, and at last to lull him asléepe, shee warbled out of her wofull brest this Dittie.

S [...]phestias Song to her childe.
Weepe not, any wanton, smile vpon my knee,
When thou art olde, there' [...] griefe enough for thee.
Mothers wagge, [...] boy,
Fathers sorrow father [...] ioy.
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and mee,
Hee was glad, I was [...],
Fortune chang [...]e made him so:
When he had left his [...] boy,
Last his sorrow, first his ioy▪
[Page] Weepe not my wanton, smile vpon my knee:
When thou [...] olde there's griefe enough for thee.
Streaming teares [...] stint,
Like [...] drop [...] flint,
Fell by course from his eyes,
That one anothers place supplies:
Thus he grieued in [...] part,
Teares of bloud fell from his heart,
When he left his [...] the boy,
Fathers sorow, Fathers ioy.
Weepe not my wanton, smile vpon my knee:
When thou art olde; there's griefe enough for thee.
The w [...]nton smilde, Father wept,
Mother cryde, baby lept:
More lie crownde, more he cryde,
Nature could not sorrow hide.
He must goe, he must kisse,
Childe and mother, baby blisse:
For [...]e left his pretty boy,
Fathers sorrow, Fathers ioy.
Weepe not my wanton, smile vpon my knee,
When thou are olde, there's griefe enough for thee.

With this lullaby the baby fell asleepe, and Sephestia lay­ing it vpon the gréene grasse, couered it with a mantle, and then leaning her head on her hand, and her elbow on her lap, she fell afresh to powre forth abundance of plaints, which La­medon the olde man espying, although in his face appeared the mappe of discontent, and in euery wrinckle was a cata­logue of woes, yet to chéere vp Sophestia, shrowding his in­ward sorrow with an outward smile, hee beganne to comfort her in this manner.

Sephestia, thou seest no [...] preuailes against the gaze of the Basiliskes, no [...] against the s [...]ing of the Taran [...]ula, no preuention to diuert the decrée of the Fates: nor no meanes to recall backe the driefull hurt of Fortune. Incurable sores are without [...] Aphorismes, and [Page] therefore no salue for them but patience. Th [...]n my Sephe­stia, [...]ith thy fall is high, and fortune low; thy sorrowes great, and thy hope little, se [...]ing mee partaker of thy miseries, set all vpon this, Solamen miseris socios hab [...]isse doloris. Chance is like Ianus, double-faced, as well full of smiles to comfort, as of frownes to dismay: the Ocean at the deaddest ebbe re­turnes to a ful tide, when the Eagle means to soare highest, he raiseth his [...]light in the lowest da [...]es: so s [...]reth it with for­tune, who in her highest extremes is most vnconstant: when the tempest of her wrath is most fearefull, then looke for a calme: when she beats thée with Nettles, then thinke shée will strew th [...] with Roses: when she is most familiar with [...]urtes, her intent is to bee most prodigall, Sephestia. Thus are the [...]rowes of fortune feathere [...] with y e plumes of the bird Halc [...]e, that changeth colour with the [...]one, which hows [...]euer shée shoots them, pierce not so déepe but they may be [...]ced. But Sephestia, th [...] art daughter to a s [...]ing, exiled by him from the hope of a crowne was, banisht from the pleasures of the Court to the painefull fortunes of the country, parte [...] for loue from him thou canst not but loue, from Maximus, Sephestia, who for thée hath suffered so ma­ny dissa [...]ours, as either discontent or death can affoord. What of all this, is not H [...]pe the daughter of Time? Haue not starres their fauourable aspects, as they haue froward opposition? Is there not a Iupiter as there is a Saturne? Cannot the influence of smiling Venus stretch as farre as the frowning constitution of Mars? I tell thée Sephesti [...], Iuno f [...]ldeth in her browes the Volumes of the destinies: whom melancholy Saturne deposeth from a Crowne, shée mildely aduanceth to a Diadem [...]: the [...] feare not, for if the mother li [...]e in miseris, yet hath she a Scepter for the Son: let the vnkindnesse of thy father be buried in the [...]inders of obedience, and the want of Maximus bee supplyed with the presence of his pretty babe, who being too yong for fortune, lyes smiling on thy knée and laughes at Fortune: learne by him Sephestia, to vse patience, which is like the balme in the vale of Iehosaphat, that [...] no wound so déepe; [Page] but it cureth: thou séest alreadie Fortune begins so change her hiew, for after the great storme that p [...]t our shippe, we found a calme that bronght vs safe to shore; the mercie of Neptune was more then the enuie of Aeolus, & the discour­tes [...]e of thy Father is proportioned with the fauour of the gods. Thus Sephestia, being copartner of thy miserie, yet doe I séeke to allay thy martyrdome: being sicke to my selfe, yet doe I play the Phisicion to thée, wishing thou mayest beare thy sorrowes with as much content, as I brooke my misfortunes with patience. As he was ready to go forward with his perswasiue argument, Sephestia fetching a déepe sigh, filling her tender eyes with teares, mads this reply.

Swéet Lamedon, once partner of my royalties, now par­taker of my wants, as constant in his extreme distresse, as faithfull in higher fortunes: the Turtle pearketh not on barren trées, Doues delight not in soule cottages, the Ly­on frequent [...] no putrified haunts, friends follow not after pouertie, nor hath [...]ister chance any drugs from the Phisi­cions. Nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes: and yet Lamedon; the misfortune of Sephestia abridgeth not our olde contrac­ted amitie, thou temperest her [...]xile with thy banishment, and [...]hée sayling to Stix, thou [...]erriest ouer to Phlege [...]on: then Lamedon, saying as Andromache said to Hector, Tu Dominus, tu vir, tu mihi frater cris: Thy aged yéeres shall be the Kalender of my fortunes, and thy gray haires the Pa­ralels of mine actions. If Lamedon perswade Sephestia to content, Po [...]tia shall not [...]céede Sephestia in patience: If hee will her to keepe a lowe fayle, shée will vaile all her shéete: if to forget her loues, shée will quench them with la­bours: if to accuse Venus as a foe, I will hate Cupid as an enemie: and séeing the destinies haue driuen thée from a crowne, I wil rest satisfied with the country, placing all my delights in honoring thée, and nursing vp my pretty wan­ton. I will imagine a smal cottage to be a spacious Palace, and think as great quiet in a russet coat, as in royall habil­liments. Sephestia, Lamedon will not scorne with Iuno to turne her selfe into y e shape of Semelas nurse, but vnknown, [Page] re [...] careles of my fortunes: the hope of times returne shall be the end of my thoughts, the smiles of my son shall be the nourishment of my heart, and the course of his [...]outh shalbe the comfort of my yeeres, euery laughter that leapes from his lookes, sh [...]ll be the holiday of my conceits, and euery [...]eare shall furnish out my grief [...]s, and his fathers fune­ralls. I haue heard them say, Lamedon, that the lowest shrubbes feele the least tempests, and in the valleys of Affrica is heard no thunder, that in countrie roomes is greatest rest, and in little wealth the least disquiet: dignitie treadeth vpon glasse, and honour is like vnto the herbe Si­nara, that when it bloometh most gorgeous, then it blasteth: Aulica vita splendida miseria, Courts haue golden dreames, but cottages sweet slumbers: then Lamedon, will I dis­guise my selfe, with my cloathes wil I change my thoughts; for being poorely attired, I will be meanely minded, & mea­sure my actions by my present estate, not by former for­tunes. In saying this, the babe a wa [...]t and cried, and she fell to teares mixed with a [...]ullable.

All this while Menaphon sate amongst the shrubs, fixing his eyes on the glorious obiect of her face, he noted her tres­ses, which hee compared to the coloured Hiacinth of Arca­dia, her browes to the mountain snows that lie on the hils: her eies to [...] gray glister of Titans gorgeous mantle, her alablaster necke to the whitenesse of his flockes, her teares to pearle, her face to borders of lillies interseamed with ro­ses: to be briefe, our Shepheard Menaphon that heretofore was an Atheist to loue, and as the Thessalian of Bacchus, so hee a contmner of Venus, was now by the wilie shaft of Cupid so intangled in the perfection & beauteous excellen­cie of Sephestia; as now hee swore, no benigne Planet but Venus, no god but Cupid, no exquisite deitie but Loue. Being thus fettered with the pliant perswasions of fancie, impatient in his new affections, as the horse that neuer before felt the spurre, he could not bridle his new conceiud amors, but watching when they should depart, perceiuing by the gestures of the old man, and the teares of the Gen­tlewoman, [Page] that they were distres [...], thought to offer [...] helpe that lay within the compasse of his abilitie. As thus hee mused in his new passions, Lamedon and Sephestia rose vp, and resolued to take course which way the winde blew: passing so downe the mountain [...] to g [...] seeke out some towne, at last they passing fastly on, Lamedon espied Menaphon: desirous therefore to know the course of the countrie, he saluted him thus.

Shepheard, for to farre thy attire warrants me; cour [...]e­ous, for so much thy countenance imports: i [...] distressed, persons, whom Fortune hath wronged, and the seas haue fauoured, (if we may count it fauour to liue and wa [...]t) may without offence [...]raue so farre side, as to know some place where to rest our wearie and weather-beaten [...]nes, our charges shall be [...] paide, and you haue for recompence such thankes, as Fortunes out-lawes may yeeld to their fauou­rers. Menaphon hearing him speake so grauely, but not [...]itting his eare to his eye, stood staring still an Sephestias face, which shee perceiuing, flashed out such a blush fro [...] her alablaster cheekes, that they lookt like the rud [...] gates of the Morning: this sweet bashfulnesse amazing Mena­phon, at last he began thus to answers.

Strangers, your degree I know not, therefore pardon if I giue lesse titl [...], then your estates [...]rite: fortunes from [...] are princes fortunes, and kings are subiect to ch [...]c [...] [...] de­stiny. Mis-hap is to be salued with pitie, not scorne: and we that are fortunes darlings, are bound to relieu [...] them that are distrest: therefore follow mee, and you shall haue such succor, as a Shepheard may afford. Lamedon and Sephestia, were passing glad, and Menaphon led the way, not con­tent onely to feede his sight with the beauty of his new Mistris, but thought also to infer some occasion of parl [...]y, to heare whether her voice were as m [...]ledious as her face beautifull, hée therefore prosecuted his prattle thus: Gen­tlewoman, when first I saw you sitting vpon the Arcadian promontorie with your babie on your lap, & this old father by, I thought I had seene Venus with Cupid on her knée, [Page] [...] of Troy & the [...] your lookes could discouer no lesse th [...]n. Mar [...] [...], and the beautie [...] child as much as the digni [...] of her wanton: at last [...], that yo [...] [...] distresse; [...] partake your so [...], and [...], I pity ouercharged persons, in lieu [...] het [...] your name, country and [...]ntage, [...] by the a [...], that the swains [...] loue, replyed [...] Courte [...] [...] did looke like Venus at: a blush, it way [...] the [...] goddesse wept for her faire: Adonis: my boy [...] Cupid, but the fou [...] of Care▪ Fortunes [...] in his youth to be (I hope) her darling in his age [...] that your look [...] saw our griefe, and your [...]hought [...] shal giue thanks (the bount [...] of [...] harts pray that the gods may be as friendly to your flo [...]s, as you fauourable vnto vs. My [...] is Samela, my country Cy­pres, my [...], the wis [...] of a [...] Gentleman now [...], sh [...]pheard [...], lest it be [...]edious for thée to heare it, and a double griefe for me [...] to [...] it. The shepheard not daring displease hi [...] Mistris, [...] threats hanging [...] her lips, [...] them [...] to his house: [...] as they were art [...], he began at the doore to entertaine them thus: Fair [...] Mistris, the flower of all our Nimphe [...] that li [...] here in Arcadia, this is my cottage wherein I liue content, and your lodging, where (please it you) ye may rest [...] to couer the [...], nor [...] wealth: for shepheards vse neither to [...]: you shall [...]nde here [...] and milk so? dai [...] [...], and [...] for [...]l [...] ­ [...]hing, in euery corner of the house. Content sitting smiling and tempering [...] thing with a [...]: this if ye can brooke and accept of (as gods allow the meanest hos­pitalitie) ye [...]all haue such welcome and [...] Phil [...]mon and Baucis gaue to Iupiter▪ Sephestia thankt him heartily, [Page] and going into his house, [...] what he promise [...] that they had sate a little by the [...] and were [...] warmed, they went to supp [...], where Sephestia [...] well, as one whom the sea had made [...], and Lamedon so plied his teeth, that at supper he sp [...]ke not [...] taken their [...]ēpast▪ Menaphon [...] they were [...], and that sléepe chimed on to the rest, let them sée their lodging, and so gaue them the good night. Lamedon on his [...]ock-bed, and Sephe­stia on her country [...]ouch,) were so [...], that they slept well & but Menaphon, poore Menaaphon, neither asked his [...] for his [...], nor tooke his male-spade on his neck to sée his [...] but as a man pained with a thousand passions, drenched in distresse, & ouer-whelmed with a mul­titude of vncouth [...]; he [...] like the pictures that Per­s [...] turned with him [...] head into stones. His sister Carmela kept his house, (for so was the country wench cal­led) and shée seeing her brother sit so [...]-contented, stept to her cupboord, & fetcht a little beaten spice in an old bladder, she spared no euening milke, but went amongst the creame boll [...]s, and made him a posset. But alas, loue had so locked vp the shepheards stomach, that none would downe with Menaphon. Carmela seeing her brother refuse his spiced drinke, thought all was not well, and therfore sat down and wept: to be [...], she blubbered, and he [...]; and his men that came in and saw their [...]ster with a kercher on his head, mourned: so that amongst these swaines there was such melodie, that Menaphon tooke his bow and arrowes, and went to bed: where casting himselfe, he thought to haue beguiled his [...]assions with some sweet slumbers: but loue that smiled at his new entertained champion, sitting on his beds head, wicked him forward with new desires, charging Morph [...], Phobetur, and Ic [...]lon the gods of sleepe, to present vnto his closed eyes the singular beauty and rare [...] of [...]: & for so will we now call her) in that the Id [...] of her excellence forced him to breathe out scalding sigh [...]s smothered within the fornace of his thoughts, which grew into this or the like passion.

[Page] I had thought, Menaphon, that he which weareth the bay leafe, had bin frée from light [...], and the Eagles [...] a pre­seruatiue against thunder, that labour had béene [...] so loue, and the eschewing of idlenes an Antidote against fan­cie: but I sée by proofe, there is no adamant so [...]ard, but the bloud of a Goat will make soft: no [...] so well defenced, but strong battery will enter, nor any heart so plyant to restlesse labours, but inchantments of loue will ouer come. Vnfor­tunate Menaphon, that of late thought [...] Venus a strumpet, and her sonne a bastard: now must thou offer incense at her shrine, & sweare Cupid no lesse then a god: thou hast reason▪ Menaphon, for he [...] that liues without loue, liues without life, presuming as Narcissus to hate all, and being like him, at length despised of all. Can there [...] [...] sw [...]ter blisse then beautie, a greater heauen then her heauenly perfections that is mistris of thy thoughts? If the sparkle of her eyes appeare in the night, the s [...]arres blush at her brightnesse: if her haire glister in the day, Ph [...]bus puts off his wreath of diamonds, as ouercome with the shine of her tresses: if she walke in the fields, Flora séeing her face, bids all her glo­rious flowers [...] themselues, as being by her beautie dis­graced▪ [...] her Ala [...]aster necke appeare▪ then Hye [...]s coue­reth his s [...]old, as surpassed in whitenesse [...] to be short, Mena­phon, if Samela had appeared in Ida, Iuno for maiestie, Pallas for wisdome, and Venus for beauty had let my Samela haue the Supremacie▪ why shouldest thou not then loue, and thinke there is no life to loue, séeing the end of loue is the possession of such a heauenly paragon▪ but what of this, Menaphon? hast thou any hope to inioy her person? shee is a widdow: true, but too high for thy fortunes: shée is in di­stresse. Ah, Menaphon; if thou hast any sparke of comfort, this must set thy hope on fire▪ want is the load-stone of af­fection, distresse forceth [...]éeper then fortunes frownes, and such as are poore, wil rather loue then want reliefe: fortunes frownes are whetstones to fancie, and as the horse starteth at the spurre, so loue is pricked forward with distresse. Sa­mela is shipwracked, Menaphon reléeue [...] her: shée wants, [Page] he supplies with wealth, he s [...]es for loue, [...]yther must shee grant▪ or buy [...]eniall with perpetuall repentant [...]. In this hope [...] the poore shepheard: and with that, Menaphon laid his head downe on the pis [...]ow, and tooke a sound nap, sléeping out fancie with a good slumber.

As soone as the Sun appeared, the shepherd got him vp, and [...] fat with this hope, went merrily with his men to the folds, and there [...] [...]orth his sheep, after that he had appointed where they should graze, returned home, and loo­king when his guests should rise, hauing slept ill y • last night went roundly to his breakfast: by that time hee had ended his [...], Lamedon was gotten vp, and so was Samels. Against their rising, Carmela had [...] her cookerie, and Men [...]phon [...]yred in his ru [...]et Ia [...]ket, his redde sleeues of chamlet, his blew [...], & his round [...]ops of countrey cloth, bestirred him, as euery ioynt had béene fat to a sundry of­fice. Samela no sooner came out of her Chamber, but Me­naphon as one that stai [...]ed piety for his passions, had her good morrow [...] louers look: Samela knowing the fowle by the Feather, was able to cast his disease without his water, perceiued that C [...]pid had caught the poore shap­heard in his [...], and vnlesse he [...]aught quickly to breake out of the [...]hare, would make him a [...] faire lookes shee gaue him, and with a smiling sorr [...] discouered how shee grieued at his misfortune, [...] yet [...] him: wel to break­fast they went, Lamedon & Samela sed hath, but Menaphon like the Argiue in the [...] of Arabia, liued with the contemplation of his mistris [...]a [...]ty: the Salamender liues not without [...]re, the H [...]rring from the water, the Mo [...]e from the earth, nor the C [...]eleon from the ayre: nor could Menaphon [...] but in [...]ght of his Samela, whose breath was perfumed ayre, whole eies were [...] wher in he delighted to daily, whose heart the earthly paradise, where­in he desired so ingrasse the [...] of his loue and affection: thus did the poore shepheard [...]athe in a kind of blisse, while his eye f [...]ing on his mistris face, surfeited with the [...] of her perfection. So long hee gazed, that at length [Page] breakfast was ended, and he destrous to do her any seruice, first put her childe to nurse, and then led her forth to see his folds: thinking with the [...]ght of his flocks to inueigle her, whose minde had rather haue chosen any misfortune, then haue deigned her eies on the face and feature of so low a pe­sant. Well, abroad they went, Menaphon with his Shéep­hooke fringed with crewell, to signifie he was chiefe of the Swaines, Lamedon and Samela after: plodding thus ouer she gréeue fields, at last they came to the mountaines where Menaphons flocks grazed, and there he discoursed to Samela thus. I tell thée faire Nimph, these plaines that thou seest stretching Southward, are pastures belonging to Mena­phon: there growes the Cinque [...]ile, and the Hiacinth, the Cow [...]ip, the Primrose, and the Violet, which my [...]locks shal spare for flowers to make thée Garlands, the milke of my Ewes, shall be meate for my pretty wanton, the w [...]ll of the fat wethers, that séeme as sine as the fléece that Iason fetch [...] from Colchos, shall serue to make Samela webs withall, the mountaine toys shall be thy morning walke, and the sha [...] Vallies thy euenings Arbour, as much as Menaphon owes, shall be at Samelaes command, if she like to liue with Mena­phon. This was spoken with such déep affects, that Samela could scarce kéep her from smiling: yet she couered her con­ceit with a sorrowfull countenance, which Menaphon espy­ing, to make her merry, and rather for his owne aduantage, séeing Lamedon was asléepe, [...]oke her by the hand, and sate downe, and pulling forth his pipe, began after some melo­die to carroll out this roundelay.

Menaphons roundelay.
When tender [...]wes brought home with Euening Sunne,
Wend to their folde,
And to their holds,
The shepheards trudge when light of day is done.
Vpon a tree,
The Eagle Ioues faire bird did pearch,
There resteth he:
[Page] A little flye harbour then did search,
And did presume (though others laught thereat)
To pearch whereas the princely Eagle sate.
The Eagle frownde and shooke his royall wings,
And charg'de the Flye,
From thence to hye.
Afraide in haste, the little creature s [...]ings,
Yet seekes againe,
Fearefull to pea [...]ke him by the Eagles side,
With moody vaine,
The speedy post of Ganimede replide:
Vassall, auant, or with my wings you dye,
Is't fit an Eagle seate him with a flye?
The flye craued pittie, still the Eagle frownde.
The silly flye,
Readie to dye,
Disgracde, displacde, fell groueling to the ground;
The Eagle saw,
And with a royall minde, said to the flye,
Be not in awe,
I scorne by me the meanest creature dye:
Then seate thee here: the ioyfull flye vp s [...]ings,
And sate safe shadowed with the Eagles wings.

As soone as Menaphon had ended this ronndelay, tur­ning to Samela, after a country blush, hes began to court her in this homely fashion: what thinke you▪ Samela of the Ea­gle for this royall déed? that he falsified the old Prouerbe, A­quila non capit muscas. But I meane, Samela, are you not in opinion, that the Eagle giues instance of a princely resolu­tion, in preferring the safetie of a flye, before the credit of her royall maiestie? I thinke Menaphon that high minds are the shelters of pouerty, & Kings seats are couerts for distressed persons, that the Eagle in shrowding the flye did well, but a little forgot her honor. But hold thinke you, said Samela, is this proportion to be obserued in loue? I gesse no, for the [...] [Page] did it not for loue, but for succour. Hath loue then respect of circumstance: Els it is not loue, but lust; for where y e parties haue no simpathy of estates, there can no firme loue be fixt: discord is reputed the mother of diuision, as in nature this is an vnrefuted principle, that it faulteth, which faileth in vniformitie. Hee that grafts Iilliflowers vpon the Nettle, marreth the smel, who couets to tie the lamb and the lion in one tedder, makes a braule: equall fortunes, are loues fauo­rites, and therefore should fancy be alwaies limited by Ge­ometricall proportion, lest if yong matching with old, fire and frost fall at a combate, and if rich with poore, there ha [...] many dangerous and brauing obiections. Menaphon halfe nipped in the pate with this reply, yet like a tall souldier stoode to his tackling and made this answere: suppose gen­tle Samela, that a man of meane estate, whom disdainfull fortune had abased, in tending to make her power prodigall in his mis-fortunes, being feathered with Cupids bolt▪ were snared in the beautie of a Quéene, should he rather die then discouer his amors? It Quéenes (quoth she) were of my minde, I had rather die, then perish in baser fortunes. Ve­nus loue [...] Vulcan, replied Menaphon: truth, quoth Samela, but though he was polt-footed, yet he was a god. Phao in­ioyed S [...]pho, he a [...]erriman that liued by his hands thrift, shée a princesse that sate inuested with a diadem. The more fortunate, qd. Samela, was he in his honors, and she the lesse famous in her honestie. To leaue these instances, replied Menaphon (for loue had made him hardy) I, swéet Samela, infer these presupposed premisses, to discouer the basenesse of my mean birth, and yet the [...]éepnesse of my affection, who euer since I saw the brightnesse of your perfection shining vpon the mountaines of Arcady, like the glister of the Sun vpon the toplesse promontory of Sicilia, was so snared with your beauty, & so inueigled with the excellence of that per­fection that excéeds all excellency, that loue entring my de­sire, hath maintained himselfe by force, that vnlesse sweets Samela grant me fauor of her loue, & play the princely Egle, I shall with the poore [...]ie perish in my fortunes: he conclu­ded [Page] this period with a deepe sigh: and Samela grieuing a [...] this folly of the shepheard, gaue him mildely this answere.

Menaphon, my distressed haps are the resolution of the destinies, and the wrongs of my youth are the fore-runners of my woes in age, my natiue home is my worst nurcery, & my friends deny that which strangers preiudicially grant: I arriued in Arcadie shipwrackt, and Menaphon fauoring my sorrowes, hath affoorded me succours, for which Samela rests bound, and will prooue thankefull: as for loue, know that Venus standeth on the Tortois, as shewing that loue creepeth on by degrées, that affection is like the snaile, that steales to the top of the launce by minutes: the grasse hath his increase, yet neuer any sées it augment, the sun shadow­eth, but the motion is not séene: loue like those should enter into the eye, and by long gradations passe into the heart: Cupid hath wings to flie, not that loue should be swift, but that he may so [...]re hie, to auoid base thoughts. The Topaz being throwne into the fire, burnes strait, but no sooner out of the flame but it fréezeth: straw is soone kindled, but it is but a blaze: and loue that is caught in a moment, is lost in a minute: giue me leaue, Menaphon, first to sorrow [...] my fortunes, then to call to mind my husbands late funeralls, then if the fates haue assigned I shall fancie, I will account of thée before any shepheard in Arcadie. This conclusion of Samela drew Menaphon into such an extasie for ioy, that hee stoode as a man metamorphozed: at last, calling his sen­ses together, he told her he rested satisfied with her answer, and thereupon le [...]t her a kisse, such as blushing Thetis re­ceiues from her choicest Leman. At this Lamedon awaked, otherwise, no doubt, Menaphon had replied, but breaking off their talke, they went so view their pastures, & so passing downe to the place where the shéep grazed, they searched the shepheards bags, & so emptied their bottles, as Samela mar­uelled at such an vncouth banquet: at last they returned home, Menaphon glorying in the hope of his successe, enter­taining Samela stil with such curtesy, y • she finding such con­tent in the cottage, began to despise the honors of the court. [Page] Resting thus in house with the Shepheard, to auoyd te­dious conceits, she framed her selfe so to countrie labours, that she oft-times would leade the [...]acke [...] to the fields her selfe, and being drest in hamely attire, shee séemed like Oc­none that was amorous of Paris. As shee thus often traced alongst the plaines, she was noted amongst the shepheards of one Doron next neighbour to Menaphon, who entred into the consideration of her beauty, and made report of it to all his fellow swaines, so that they chatted naught in the fields but of the new shepheard [...]sse. One day amongst the rest, it chaunced that Doron sitting in parley with an­other country companion of his, amidst other tattle, they prattled of the beaut [...]e of Samela. Hast thou [...] her, quoth Melicertus? (for so was his [...]rland called) I quoth Doron, and [...]ghed to sée her, not that I was in loue, but that Agrée­ued shee should bee in loue with such a one as Menaphon. What manner of woman is she, quoth Melicertus? As well as I can, answered Doron. I will make description of her.

Dorons description of Samela.
Like to Diana in her summer weede,
Girt with a crimson robe of brightest die,
goes faire Samela.
Whiter then be the flocks th [...]t straggling feede,
When washt by Arothusa faint they lie,
is faire Samela.
As faire Aurora in her morning gray,
Deckt with the ruddy glister of her loue,
is faire Samela.
Like louely Thetis on a calmed day.
When as her brightnesse Neptunas fancy moue,
shines faire Samela.
Her tresses gold▪ her eyes like glassie streames,
Her teeth are pearle, the brests are ivory,
of faire Samela.
Her cheekes like rose & lilly yeeld forth gleames,
Her browes bright arches framde of ebony:
thus faire Samela
[Page] Passeth faire Venus in her brauest hiew,
And Inno in the shew of maiestie
for she [...] Samela.
P [...]llas in [...] all three if you will view,
For beauty, [...], and matchlesse dignitie,
yeeld to Samela.

Thou ha [...] ( [...] Melic [...]us) made such a description▪ as [...] should painst [...]nt the perfection of his [...] thinkes the Idea of her person re­presents [...] an obiect to my san [...]e, and that I see in the discouerie of her excellence, the rare beauties of-: and with that he [...] as it séemed his heart [...] as the Lapithes when they [...]. Doron maruelling at this sodaine euent, was halfe afraid, as if some apopl [...]y had astonied his senses, so that chéering vp his friend, he demanded what the cause was of this [...]daine conceit. Melicertus no nig­gard in discouerie of his fortunes, began thus: I tell thée Doron, before I kept sheepe in Arcadle, I was a shep­heard elsewhere, so famous for my flockes, as Menaphon for his foldes; beloued of the Nimphes, as he likte of the Country Damsels; coueting in my loues to vse Cupids wings, to soare high in my desires, though my selfe were borne to base fortunes. The hobby catcheth no prey, vn­lesse she mount beyond her marke, the Palme tree beareth most boughes where it groweth highest, & loue is most for­tunate where his courage is [...], and though beyond his compasse. Grounding therefore on these principles, I fixt mine eies on a Nimph, whose parentage was great, but her beauty far more excellent▪ her birth was by many de­grees greater then mine, and my worth by many discents lesse then hers: yet [...] Venus loued Adonis; and Lu­na Endymion, that Cupid had boltes feathered with the plumes of a Crowe, as well as with the pennes of an Ea­gle: I attempted, and courted her, I found her lookes light­ning disdaine, and her forehead to containe fauours for o­thers, [Page] and frownes for me [...] when I alleaged faith, shee crost me with Aeneas: when loyaltie, she told [...] when I swore constancie, [...] when I craued a finall resolution [...], shee [...]ld her browes full of wrinckles, and her eyes full of furie, turned her back, and shooke [...] off with a Non placet. Thus in loues I lost loues, and for her loue had lost all, had I not when I néere despayred the [...] of some court [...]ous starre, or rather the very excellence of s [...]me Mistri [...] fauors salued my halfe despayring maladie: for shée séeing that I held a superstitious opinion of l [...]ue, in honouring him for a Deitie, not in counting him a vaine conceite of Poetrie, that I thought it sacriledge to wrong my desires, and the basest fortune to inhaunce my fortune by fals [...]fyng my loues to a woman, shee left from being so rammag [...], and gently came to the first, and granted mee those sauours shee might affoord or my thoughts desire: with this he [...] [...] and fell a­gaine to his sigh [...], which Doron noting, answered thus. If (my good [...]) thou didst enioy thy loues, what is the occasion thou beginnest with sigh [...], and endest with passions? Ah, Doron, there ends my ioyes, for no sooner had I triumpht in my fauours, but the [...] of my fortunes fell like the hearbes in Syria, that flourish in the morne, and fade before night [...] o [...] like vnto the flye Tyryma, that taketh life, and leaueth it all in one day. So (my Doron) did it fare with me, for I had, no sooner enioyed my loue, but the heauens (enuious a shepheard should haue the fruition of such a heauenly Paragon) sent vnr [...]uocable Fates to de­priue me of her life, and shée is dead: Dead Doron: to her, to my selfe, to all, but not to my memorie, for so déepe were the caracters stamped in my inward senses, that obliuion can neuer rase out the forme of her excellence. And with that hée [...] out of those dumpes with musicke, (for he played on his [...] certaine [...] he had contriued in prayse of the country [...]) but plaine as Do­ron, as plaine [...] him to [...] rounde­l [...]y, & he [...] to this effect.

[Page]

D [...]r [...]n [...] I [...]gge.
Through the shrubs as I can cracke,
For my Lambes pretty one [...],
Mongst many little on [...],
Nymphes I meane, whose haire was blacke,
As the Crow,
Like the snow,
Her face and brow [...] shine I weene,
I saw a little one,
A bonny pretty one,
As bright, buxome, and as sheene,
As was she
On her knee,
That lul [...]d the God, whose arrowes warnes,
Such merry little ones,
Such faire fac'de pretty ones,
As dally in loues chiefest harmes:
Such was mine,
Whose gray [...]
Made me loue. I ga [...] to wo [...]
This sweet little one,
This bonny pretty one,
I wooed hard a day or two,
Till she bad,
Be not sad,
Woo no more, I am thine owne,
Thy decrest little one,
Thy truest pretty one:
Thus was faith and firme loue showne,
As behoues
Shepheards loues.

How like you this ditt [...]e of mine owne [...], qu [...]th Doron? As well as my mus [...]cke, replyed Melicertus; for if Pan and I stri [...]e, Midas being Iudge, and should hap to giue me the garland, I doubt not but his Asses eares should be doubled: but Doron, so long we dispute of [...], and for­get [Page] our labors, that [...]ath our [...] to morrow our merry meeting hindred. That is true (quoth Doron) for there will bee all the [...] and countrey Damsels, and amongst th [...]m [...] Men [...] ­pho [...] will bring [...] thee, and therefore good Melicertus, [...] bee going. With this prattle, away they went to their [...], where we [...] them and returne to Memphon, who triump [...] in y • hope of his new loues, caused Samela to tric [...]e [...] her coun­try attire, and [...] her selfe braue against [...] th [...]n thought, to be coy were to discouer her thoughtes, [...] her selfe vp in [...]rm russe [...] and that [...] as if Venus in [...] had thought [...] it with her lou [...]ly [...]. The [...], and [...] they went, but Lamedon was left behind to keepe the house▪ At the hour [...] appointed, M [...]naph [...]n, C [...]mela, [...] came, when all the [...] make mercy. [...] as word was brought, that Menaphon [...] new [...] a [...] the company began to [...] to prepare his eye for [...] a Heards [...]a [...]s daughter of the same Parish, that long had [...] Menaphon, & hee had filled her [...] with stownes, [...] with [...], and her heart with griefe; yet [...] her [...] who [...] that instant came with Mena­phon in to the house. No sooner was she entred into the par­lour, but her ryes gaue such a shine, and her face such a brightnesse, that they [...] and she [...] her selfe among so many vnknowne [...] such a vermilion blush, that the countrey [...] themselues fell in loue with this faith Nimph, [...] not [...] Menaphon for being ouer the [...] with such a beautifull creature. Doron [...]gged Melicertus [...] and so awak [...] him out of a dr [...]me: for he was d [...]yly drowned, in the contemplation [...] ex­cellencie; [Page] sending out [...] of sighes in remembrance of his old [...] meditating on her fauour, how much shee resembled her that death had depriued him of: wel, her welcome was great of al the company, and for that she was a stranger, [...] to make her the mistris of the [...] Menaphon, [...] no small [...] the aduancing of his [...], [...]oing passing [...] and pleasant with the rest of the companie, insomuch that euery one perceiued how the po [...]re Swai [...] fed vpon the dignities of his Mistris graces. [...] this, [...] and Caimela winking vpon her fel­lowes, answered her [...] with a [...], which dou­bled her griefe▪ for [...] paines are more pinching i [...] they he gi [...]ded with a [...], then if they bee galled with a [...], Whiles thou there was [...] of such lookes, as euery [...] an [...] Sal [...]la willing to see, the fashion of these country yong Frowes, cast her eyes abroad, and in viewing euery face, at last her eyes glanced an the leakes of Melicertus, whose countenance re­sembled [...] Lord, that as his face, but [...] vpon [...] stranger, she restraint of her leakes; and so taking her [...] particular abi [...]t, [...] abroad to make generall suruey of their Countre [...]deme [...] all this gazing, hee that [...] the face, fearing their eyes should féed or surfet on his Mistris beau­tie: if they glanced, hee thought strait they would be Riuals in his loues; if they [...]atly lookt▪ then they were déepely [...] in affection if they once [...], they had re­ceiued some glance from [...] that ma [...]e them so [...] if she laught, she [...] [...]nd at that hee [...] thus sat [...] poore Menaphon all dinner while pained with a thousand iealous passions, keeping his téeth garders of his stomacke, and his eyes, watchmen of his l [...]es: but Meli­certus halfe impatient of his new conceiued thought [...], de­termined to try how the Damsell was brought vp, and [Page] whether [...] was as [...] [...] [...] ­gan to brake [...]ilence [...].

The [...]r [...]es which the [...] the [...] which the [...] by, were neuer [...]o [...] [...]aies they did [...] ple [...] ­san [...] pa [...]es▪ were i [...] not [...] famous for the beauty of the [...] roundel [...] o [...] our [...] disgra [...] ▪ [...] day with such [...] country swaines s [...] [...] company [...]am [...]els both [...] enter­taine them [...]th prettie to [...]ry [...] wits▪ [...] to this they all agréed with a Plaudite. [...]he [...] quoth Melicertus: by your leaue, since I was [...]r [...] in [...], I [...] [...] fir [...]t in question, and therfore [...] come [...] ▪ [...]rst to you: at this Samela blusht▪ and he began [...].

Faire Da [...]e [...]l, when Nar [...]us chattes with Iu [...]o ▪ hee ha [...] pardon, in that his [...] more to [...] the god­desse, then to [...] his [...] pr [...]s [...]mp [...]ion▪ i [...] I, [...] be ouerbold, forgiue me: I reque [...]t not [...] [...] from [...]ed [...]omnesse. Then gentle [...] if you should be [...]: [...] the anger of the gods▪ in­to [...] ships▪ what creature would you [...] [...] Samela blushing that she was [...] yet [...] pregnant wit, [...] the [...] loue) made him this answe [...]e▪

Gentle shepheard, [...] maidens to coy: lest the [...] the other [...] w [...]et [...]ne [...], and by [...] [...]es [...]iphere [...] in [...]rne [...] [...] in crauing pardon, when you [...] graunt of pardon. [...]er [...]re [...] to [...]r [...]u [...]ion▪ Daphne, I remem [...], [...] [...] [Page] Virgins [...] according to their merits, but if my wish might serue for a Metamorpho [...], I would bee [...]urned into [...] sheepe▪ [...] shéepe▪ and why so mistris? I reason thus, quoth Samela, my supposition should bée simple, my life quiet, my [...] the pleasant pla [...]nes of Arcadie, and the wealthy riches of F [...]r [...], my [...] the c [...]e streames that flow from the [...] of this continent, my aire should be cl [...]re, my walkes spacious, my thoughts at ease, and can there [...] shepheard) a [...]y better premisses to conclude my reply than these? But haue you no other allegations [...] your resolution? Yes sir quoth she, and farre greater▪ [...]hen the law of our first motion, quoth hes, commands you to repeat them. Far be it, answered Samela, that I should not doe of free-will any thing that this pleasant company commands: therefore thus; were I [...] sheepe, I should hee guarded from the saldes with iolly Swaines, such as was Lunas Loue on the hilles of Lat­ [...]os; their pipes sounding like the melodie of Mercurie, when he luld asléep [...] Argus: but more, when the Damsels tracing along the Pl [...]ines, should with their eyes like Sun-bright beames draw on looke [...] to [...] on such spark­ling [...] weary with [...]eede, should I lie and looke [...] their beautie [...], [...] the [...]otted wealth of the richest [...] I should listen so their sweete laies, more [...] Syr [...]ns: thus féeding on the [...] of their [...] I should like the Tyrian better fall [...] with [...] darling. I but, quoth Melicertus, these faire-faced damsels oft draw forth the kindest shéepe [...] And what of that Sir, answered Samela, [...] with beauty, die for loue? [...] there is more kindnesse in [...]easte, [...] they die [...] loue when larkes die [...] they shew [...] sparks they haue of [...] they draw [...] their [...] the Sea [...] answered [...] of a wea­thercocke, [Page] that brought forth such a wauerin [...] companion: for you, [...] ▪ Menaphon ▪ measure your l [...]kes by minutes, and your loues are like lightning▪ which no s [...]ner [...]ash on the eye, but they vanish. It is then▪ quoth Menaphon, because mine eye is a [...]oolish iudge, and [...] [...] basely: which when my hart [...], it casts away [...] re [...]use. It were best then▪ said Pesana, to discharge such [...] iudges of their [...]eates, and to [...]et your eare [...] [...]earers of your loue pleas. If they [...]ult, quoth Melicertus, euery market [...]owne ha [...]h a remedie, [...]r el [...]e there is neuer a [...]aker [...]. Stay, cur [...]us shepheard [...], quoth Samela, the [...]e ie [...]s are t [...]o broad before, they are [...]ynicall like Diogenes [...]ui [...]s▪ that had large [...]eathers and sharp [...] ▪ it little [...] in [...]is com­pany to bandy ta [...]nts o [...] loue▪ séeing you are [...]nwedded▪ and these all maidens a [...]icted to chastitie. You s [...]ake well as a patronesse of our credite, quoth Pesana, for in [...]éede we be virgins, and [...]icte [...] to virginitie▪ [...]ow (quoth Menaphon) that you haue got a Virgin in your mouth, you will neuer leaue ch [...]nting the word▪ [...]ill you prooue your selfe either a Vestall or a [...]ibill▪ Suppose she were a Vestall, quoth Me­licertus, I had almost said a Virgin (but God forbid I had ma [...] such a [...]ubtfull suppo [...]tion) she might carrie water with Amulia in a [...]ue: for [...]ongst all the rest o [...] virgi [...] ▪ we rea [...] o [...] none but her that wrought such a miracle▪ Pesana hearing [...] pleasantly Melicertus [...] with her [...], [...]hou [...]ht to [...]iue him [...] great [...]ne to [...]nawe [...]on▪ which [...] cast in [...]i [...] [...] thus bri [...]ely. I remember [...], [...]hat Epi­curus measured euery mans diet by his [...] princ [...]ples: Apr [...]da [...] the great [...]acedonian pir [...], thought euery one had a letter of [...] that sailes in the Ocean: none [...] to kn [...]cke at Diogenes [...] ▪ [...] was su [...]ed a C [...] ­nick; and [...]cie [...] to [...] vanitie [...], that you will t [...]ke Vesta a [...] of poetrie▪ Sa­mela [...] these [...] brake off their [...] with [...] to end [...] s [...]ri [...]e▪ I pray you let [...] [...] the o [...]ion of Doron, [...]r all this while neither [...] [...]or C [...]ela haue [...]t­tered [Page] one word, but [...]ate as censors at our pleas: [...]were ne­cessarie he told vs how his heart came thus on his halfepe­ny. Doron hearing Samela thus pleasant, made presently this [...] reply: [...] was ( [...] mistris) in solemne doubt with my selfe, whether in being a shepe, you would be a r [...]m or an we? an [...] no doubt, quoth Samela, for [...]ornes are the [...] but then that the head can bears: As Do­ron was ready to reply, came in suddenly to this parly [...]ours or s [...]ue old shepheards: who broke off their prat [...]e, that from that, they fell to drinking: and [...]o after some [...]rley of their stockes, euery one departed to their owne [...], where they talked of the [...] perfection of Samela, especially Me­licertus, who gotten to his owne cottage, and lien downe in his couch by [...] on Samelaes shape.

Ah Melicertus, what an obiect fortune this day brought to thy eyes! presenting a strange Idaea to thy sight, as ap­peared to Achilles of his dead friend Patroclus, tresses of gold like the [...]ammels of Sephestiaes [...] a face fairer then Venus, such was Sephestia▪ her eye paints her out Sephestia, her voice sounds her out Sephestia, she séemeth none but Sephestia: but seeing shee is de [...]d, and there liues not such another Sephestia. sue to her and loue her, for that it is either a selfe-same or another Sephestia, In this hope Melicertus tell to his slumber, but Samela was not con­tent: for she beganne thus to mus [...] with her false: May this Melicertus be a shepheard▪ or can a countrie cottage affoord such perfection▪ doth this coast bring forth such excellencie? then happy are the virgin that shall haue such suters, and the wiues such pleasing husbands, but his face is not in: [...] with any [...] his browes containe the characters of nobility, and his looks in shepheards wee [...] are lordly his voice pleasing, his [...] of gentrie: weigh all these equally, and [...] Samela, is it not thy Maxi­mu [...]? [...] away with thes [...] [...] could the dreaming of [...] call Hec [...]or from his graue? or can the [...] my husband rasse [...] from the seas? [Page] Tush, [...] [...]t to such v [...]nitie [...] ▪ [...] i [...] dead, and there [...]ore g [...]ieue not t [...] me [...]ory with the ima [...]ina [...]on of [...] [...]ew reuiu [...], [...]o [...] there h [...] [...]ene [...]ut one [...] [...] [...]o [...]ée Virbuius ▪ tw [...]c [...] a man: to sa [...] Samela then this suppose▪ i [...] they court th [...]e with [...] ▪ [...]ntertaine them with [...]ose [...]: [...] i [...] [...]ee woo▪ [...]ee wooed and [...]or no [...], [...] like M [...]ximus. Thus [...]ee rested▪ and [...] shee s [...]t, all [...]rties, [...]eing e­qually content and satis [...]ied with [...] exc [...]p [...] Pelana, who [...]ettered with the [...] [...] h [...]r [...]e [...] [...]el [...]ued Menahpon, [...] c [...]rs [...]n [...] Cupid [...] [...]eitie, that would make more [...]ay-light i [...] the [...]r [...]ent then o [...] [...] ▪ more raine [...] Iris and more loues in o [...]e [...]art th [...]n o [...]e settled passion: many prayer [...] [...] made to Venus [...]or re [...]n [...], many [...] to Cupid ▪ many [...]ri [...]ans to Him [...]n [...]us ▪ [...] the [...]y [...]e o [...] [...]er [...]e [...]res. Well [...] ▪ [...] shée wa [...] [...] ▪ she [...]ot [...]ered all with [...]t [...]enc [...] ▪ and thou [...]ht [...] [...] loue [...] not to loue and thus thee d [...]ily▪ [...]r [...]ue out [...]e [...] la­bour and looking to her herd, [...]a [...]n [...] euery [...]ay by Doron who was [...] [...]insman▪ what su [...]sse Menaphon had in his loues▪ Thus [...] and [...] to make a more [...]l [...]asing▪ [...] among [...]t the [...] th [...]. Melicertus [...] [...]s [...] was wont to doe with his [...] ▪ dro [...] [...] [...]raze [...] [...] the swaines of Menaphon [...] entertai­ned [...]: who a [...]ord [...] t [...] [...] euery day▪ Melicertus ▪ [...] daughter at the most, could n [...]t tell [...]o [...] to cour [...] [...]er: yet, at length calling to remem [...]ra [...]ce [...]er [...] [...]it [...]s [...]uered in their l [...] [...]is [...]ours [...] ▪ [...] [...]all and ra [...]et▪ séeing [...]he [...] but Samela and [...]e were in the [...], [...]e le [...] [...]s [...]ocke [...]n the val­ley, and [...]e [...]t unto [...]r▪ and salu [...]ed her thus.

[...]istris, [...] all e [...] that [...]lance [...]ut at [...] [...]xcellence o [...] your [...]erfection, [...]oueraigne of al such as Venus [...]th [...] for [...], Oenones [...]uer-match, Arcadie [...] co [...]e [...], bea [...]ies se­cond [Page] [...], all [...]: [...] like Iuno when she [...]r [...] w [...]tcht her wh [...]e [...]e [...]er [...] the [...], as bright as [...] Phoe [...]e [...]ou [...]e [...] on the [...]i [...] [...]oy of the r [...]dy element, I was by a strange [...]ttractiu [...] [...]orce [...]rawne, as the adamant drawes the yron, or the [...] the [...]aw, to [...] your swéete sel [...]e in the [...]ade, and [...] you such companie as a poore Swaine may y [...] [...] wi [...]out [...] ▪ which if you shal vouch to [...] of, I shall be [...] gla [...] of such [...], as Paris wa [...] [...]rst [...] his [...]e [...] [...]eloue [...] [...]ramour▪ Samela looking vpon the shepheards [...], [...] bro­ken s [...]ghes, thought to be pleasan [...] wi [...] her shepheard thus: Arcadies Apollo, wh [...]se brig [...] [...] euery [...] to [...]u [...] as the He [...]o [...]opion doth [...] of shepheards the [...] [...]pirit, wo [...]en [...] wrong, in wronging many with [...] [...]u [...] [...] ▪ [...] welc [...]e, as we vouch­sa [...]e [...] your seruice, [...] of your com [...]ny, as of him that is the [...] of all [...], and [...] vpon any light par [...] would [...] you to [...] your cunnin [...], Samela m [...]de this reply▪ b [...]ca [...]se [...]e [...]ar [...] [...]im [...]o super [...]ne, as i [...] Eph [...] h [...]d [...] him to [...] his mo­thers [...] borne [...] to [...]ée [...]: and Melicertus [...]k [...]ng Samela had learned wi [...]h Luci [...]a i [...] At [...]e [...], [...] non [...] [...]ut si [...]il [...], [...]ma [...]ine [...] [...] her [...] t [...] [...]ee [...]ought l [...]ke Sap [...]o, [...] either in [...] Samela [...] Pri [...]u [...] [...]nton [...] n [...]t [...]e with [...]t [...] o [...] Nimphes to [...]ollow [...]im in the [...]ale [...] I [...]a, [...]e [...]ty [...] attend her excellency: if the [...]e [...]eard be true: i [...] like Narcissus you wra [...] not your [...] in [...] of [...]is [...]aine, you cannot but haue [...] rare [...]ag [...]n to your [...], whom I would haue you [...] [...]escribe as loues la [...] loue, if [...]oue could [...] Iuno: [...]hy [...] shal [...] and I a [...]uenture with my voyce to set out my mistris [...]auour, for your excel­lence to [...] ther [...]ore [...]us: yet, Melicertus, for that he [...]a [...] a [...]urther reach, would not make any clownish [...]e­scr [...]on, chanted it thus c [...]ingly.

[Page]

Melicertus description of his Mistris.
Tune on my Pipe, the prayses of my loue,
And midst thy Oaten [...].
How faire she is that makes by mistake moun [...]
And euery string of thy hearts Harpe to moue,
Shall I compare her forme vnto the Spheare,
Whence Sun-bright Venus [...] her siluer shine?
Ah, more then that by iust compare is thine,
Whose Cristall lookes the cloudy heauens doe cleare.
How oft haue I descending Ti [...] seene,
His burning locks couch in the sea? Queenes lap,
And beauteous Th [...] his red bodie wrap,
In watry robes, as he her Lord had b [...]ne?
When as my Nymph impatient of the [...]ight,
Bade bright Atre [...] with his traine giue place,
Whiles she led forth the day with her faire face,
And lent each starre a more then Delia [...] light.
Not [...]oue or nature (should they both agree,
To make a woman of the firmament,
Of his mixt puritie) could not inuent
A skieborne forme so beautifull as shee.

When Melicertus had ended this roundelay in prayse of his Mistris, Samela perceiued by his description, that either some better Poet then himselfe had made it, or else that his former phrase was dissembled: wherfore to try him through­ly, & to sée what snake lay hid vndoe the grasse, she followed the chace in this manner. Melicertus, might not a stranger craue your Mistris name? At this the shepheard blusht, and made no reply. How now, quoth Samela▪ what? is shée so meane that you shame, or so high that you feare to bewray the soueraigne of your thoughts? stand not in doubt man: for bee shee base, I read that mightie Tamberlaine after his wise Xenocrate (the worlds faire eye) passed out of the thea­tre of this mortall life, he chose stigmaticall Tru [...]s to please [Page] his humorous fancie. Be shée a Princesse, honour hangs in high desires, and it is the token of a high muld to venter for a Ouéene: then gentle shepheard tell me thy mistris name. Melicertus, hearing his Goodesse speake sofauorably, Brea­thed out this sodaine reply: high Samela, and therefore I feare with the Syrian Wolues to barke against the Moone, or with them of Scyrum, to shoote against the Starres in the height of my thoughts soaring too high, to fall with wofull repenting Ica [...]is: No sooner did mine [...]ye glance vpon her beautie, but as if loue and fate had sate to forge my fatall disquiet, they trapt me within her lookes, and haling het Idaea through the passage of my sight, placed it so déeply in the center of my heart, as ma [...]ger all my studious endeuor it still and euer will keepe restlesse possession: Noting her vertues, her beauties, her perfections; her excellence, and feare of her too high borne parentage, though painefully fet­tered, yet haue I still feared to dare so hauty an attempt to so braue a personage: lest she offensiue at my presumption, I perish in the height of my thoughts. This conclusion bro­ken with an abrupt passion, could not so satisfie Samela, but she would be further inquisitiue. At last, after many questi­ons, he answered thus: séeing, Samela, I consume my selfe, and displease you, to hazard for the salue that may cure my maladie, and satisfie your question, know it is the beaute­ous Samela. Be there more of that name in Arcadie, beside my selfe, qd. she? I know not, said Melicertus, but were there a million, only you are Melicertus Samela: but of a million, quoth she, I cannot he Melicertus Samela: for loue hath put one arrow of desire in his quiuer, but one string to his how, and in choice but one ayme of affection. Haue yée alreadie, said Melicertus, set your rest vpon some higher Personage? No, said Samela, I meane by your selfe, for I haue heard that your fancie is linked alredy to a beautiful shepherdesse in Arcadie. At this the poore Swaine tainted his chéeks with a vermillion die, yet thinking to carry out the matter with a iest, he stood to his tackling thus: whosoeuer, Samela, des­canted of that loue, told you a Canterburie Tale, some pro­pheticall [Page] full mouth, that as hee were a Coblers eldest son, would by the Last, tell where and thers shee wrings, but his sowterly ayme was iust leuell, in thinking euery looke was loue, or euery faire word a pawne of loyalty. Then said Sa­mela, taking him at a rebound, Neither map I thinke your glances to be fancies, nor your greatest protestation any as­surance of déepe affection: therefore ceasing off to court any further at this time, thinke you haue proued your [...]selfe too tall a souldier to continue so long at battery, and that I am a fauourable soe that haue continued solong at parly: but I change you by the loue you a we your déerest mistris, not to say any more as to [...]ching loue at this time. It Samela, said he, thou hadst ini [...]yned me as Iuo [...]. did to Hercules, most dangerous labours, I would haue discouered my loue by obedience, and my affection by death: yet let me craue this, that as I began with a Sonnet, so I may end with a Ma­drigall. Content, Melicertus, quoth she, for none more then I loue musich▪ Vpon this reply the shepheard proudtu, fol­lowed with this ditty.

Melicertus Madrigall.
What are my sheepe without their wonted foode?
What is my life except I gaine my loue?
My sheepe consume and faint for want of blood,
My life is lost vnlesse I grace approue.
No flower that saplesse [...]hriues,
No Turtle without pheare.
The day without the Sunne, doth lowre for woe,
Then woe mine eyes, vnlesse thy beauty see
My Sunne Samelaes eyes, by who [...] know
Wherein delight cansis [...]s where pleasure [...] be.
Nought more the heart reuiues
Th [...] to [...] his deare,
The starres from earthly earthly [...] their light,
Our humors by their ligh [...] possesse their power:
Samelaes eyes fed by any weepi [...]e sights,
Iufud [...]s my paines or i [...]yes, by smile or lowr [...].
[Page] So wends the source of loue,
It feedes, it falles, it ends.
Kind lookes cleare to your ioy, behold her eyes,
Admire her heart, desire to taste her kisses;
In them the heauen of ioy and solace lies:
Without them eu'rie hope his succour misses.
Oh how I loue to proue,
Whereto this solace tends.

Scarce had the Shepheard ended this Madrigall, but Sa­mela began to frowne, saying he had broken promise. Mel [...] ­certus alleaged, if he had vttered any passion, twas sung, not said. Thus these louers, in a humorous descant of their prat­tle, espied a far off olde Lamedon and Menaphon comming towards them: whereupon kissing in conceit, and prattling with interchanged glances, Melicerius [...]tole to his sheepe, and Samela [...]ate her downe making of nets to ca [...]eh birds. At last, Lamedon and her loue came, & after many gracious looks, and much good parly, helpt her home with her shéepe, & put them in the folds: but leauing these amorous shepherds busie in their loues, let vs returne at length to the pretty babie Samelas childe, whom Menaphon had put to norse in the country. This infant being by nature beautiful, and by birth noble, euen in his cradle exprest to the eyes of the ga­zers, such glorious presages of his approching fortunes, as if another Alciades (the arm-strong d [...]rling of the doubled night) by wrestling with snakes in his swa [...]dling [...]lowtes, should prophesse to the world the approching wonders of his prowesse: so did his fiery looks reflect [...]rror to the weak beholders of his ingrafie [...] nobilitie, as if some God twice-borne, like to the Th [...]ra [...]ian Bac [...], [...] his he auen-borne deitie, should delude our eies with the alternate form of his infancie. Fiue yéeres had full run their monthly re­uolution, when as this beautious boy began to shew him­selfe among the shepheards children, with whom he had no sooner contracted familiar acquaintance, but steaite he was chosen Lord of the May-gam [...], king of their sports, & Ring­leader [Page] to their reuel [...] insomuch that his [...] or another [...] holding him by chaunce, [...]ounted in his Kingly Maiestie, and imitating honourable iustice in his games [...]e exer­cite of discipline, with teares of ioy tooke vp these propheti­call termes: wel do I sée, where God and Fat [...] hath vowed felicitie, no aduerse fortune may expel prosperity. Pleusid [...] ­pus thou art young, thy lookes high, and thy thoughts hau­tie, soueraignety is seated in thine eies, & honor in thy hart: I feare, this fire will haue his flame, and then am I vndone in thée my Son [...]y countrylife ( [...] countrylife) in thy proude soaring hopes, dispoited and disr [...]abed of the disgui­sed array of his rest, must returne ru [...]et wéedes to the folds where I left my feares, & haste to the court of my hell, there to inuest me with my wonted cares: how now Samela, wilt thou be a Sybill of mishaps to thy selfe? The angry heauens that haue eterniz'd thy exile, haste establish [...] thy content in Arcady, my content in Arcady, that we may be no longer then my Pleusidippus daies in Arcady, which I haue cause to feare: for the whelpes of the Lyon are no longer harmelesse then when they are whelpes, and babes are no longer to be awed then while they are babes. I, but nature: & ther with she paused, being interrupted by a tumult of boyes, that by yong Pleusidippus command fell vpon one of their fellowes, and beat him most cruelly for playing false play at Nine­holes: which she espying through the lattice [...] not chuse but smile aboue measure▪ but when shee saw him in his childish tearmes condemne one to death, for despising the authoritie bequeathed him by the rest of the boyes, then she bethought her of the Persian Cyrus, that deposed his Grandfather Astyages, whose vse it was, at like age to i­mitate maiestie in like manner. In this distraction of thoughts she had not long time stayed, but Lamedon and Menaphon called her away to accompany them to the solds, whiles Pleusidippus hasting to the execution of iustice, dis­missed of his boyish session till their next meeting: where how imperiously hee behaued himselfe in punishing misor­ders amongst his equalls, in vsing more then iesting iustice [Page] towards his vntamed copesmates, I referre it to the A [...] ­ [...]als of the Arcadians that dilate not a little of this ingeni­ous argument. In this sort did Pleufidippus draw forth his infancie; till on a time walking to the shore, where he with his mother were wrackt, to gather Cockle and pebble stones, as children are wont: there arriued on the strond a Thessalian Pirate named Eurilochus, who after he had for­raged in the Arcadian confines, driuing before him a large bootie of [...]easts to his ships, espied this pretty infant, when gazing on his face, as wanton Ioue gaze [...] on Phrygian Ga­nimede in the fields of Id [...], he [...] exhaled into his eyes such déepe impression of his perfection, as that his thought ne­uer thirsted so much after any prey, as this pretty Pleusi­dippus possession: But determining first to assay him by curtesie, before he a [...]ailed him with rigour, he began to try his wit after this manner. My little child, whence art thou, where wert thou borne, what is thy name, and wherefore wanderest thou thus all alone on the shoare? I pray yee what are ye Sir, quoth Pleusidippus, that deale thus with me by interrogatories, as if I were some run-away? Wilt thou not tell me then who was thy father? said he, Good sir, if ye will néeds know, goe aske that of my mother. He hath said well, my Lord, quoth Romanio, who was one of his speciall associates, for wise are the children in these dayes that know their owne fathers, especially if they be begot­ten in dog-dayes, when their mothers are franticke with loue, & yong men furious for lust. Besides, who knowes not that these Arcadians are giuen to take the benefit of euery Hodge, when they will sacrifice their virginitie to Venus, though they haue but a hush of net [...]les for their bed? and sure this boy is but some shepheards bastard at the most, how­soeuer this wanton face importeth more then appearance. Pleusidippus eyes at this speech resolued into [...]ire, and his face in purple with a more then common courage in chil­dren of his yéeres and stature, gaue him the lye roundly in this reply: Pesant, the bastard in thy face, for I am a Gen­tleman: wert thou a man in courage, as thou art a cow [...] in [Page] proportion, thou wouldest neuer haue so much impaired thy honesty, as to derogate from my honor. Look not in my face, but leuel at my heart by this that thou séest: & therwith he [...]et [...]riue at him with such ptbble stones as he had in his hat, in­somuch that Romanio was driuen to his héeles, to shunne this suddaine haileshot, and Eurilochus resolued into laugh­ter, and in termes of admiration most highly extolled so ex­céeding magnanimitie in so little a bodie: which how auail­able it proued, to the confirmation of his fancie that was before inflamed with his features, let them imagine that haue noted the imbecillitie of that age, and the vnresi­sted furie of men at Armes. Sufficeth at this instant to vnfold (all of her circumstances of praise laid apart) that Eu­rilochus being far in loue with his extraordinary lineamēts awaited no farther parly, but willed his men, perforce, to hopse him a ship-boord, intending as soone as euer he arriued in Thessalie, by sending him to the Court as a present, to make peace with his Lord & Master Agenor, who not long before had proclaimed him as a notorious Pirat through­out all his dominions. Neither swarued hee one whit from his purpose: for no sooner had he cast anker in the port of Ha­drianopolis, but he arraied him in choise silkes, and Tyrian purple, and so sent him as a prize to the king of that Coun­trey: who walking as then in his Summer garden, with his Quéene the beauteous Eriphila, fell to discourse (as one wel séene in Philosophie) or Hearbs and flowers, as the sauour or colour did occasion: and hauing spent some time in dis­puting their medicinable properties, his Lady reching him a Marigold, he began to moralize of it thus merrily: I mar­uell the Poets that w [...]re to prodigall in painting the amo­rous affection of the [...] to his Hiacinth, did neuer obserue the relation of loue twixt him and the Marigold: it should séeme eyther they were loth to incurre the displeasure of women, by propounding in the way of comparison any ser­ [...]ile imitation for head-strong wiues, that loue no precepts lesse then those pertaining vnto dutie; or that the [...]lower not so vsuall in their gardens as ours, in her vnacquainted [Page] name, did obscure the honour of her amours to Apollo, to whose motions reducing the method of her springing, shée waketh and stéepeth, openeth and shutteth her golden leaues as he riseth and setteth. Well did you fore-stall▪ my excep­tion, quoth Etiphila, in terming it a seruile imitation: for were the condition of a wise so slauish, as your similitude would inferre, I had as liefe be your page as your spouse, your dog as your darling. Not so, swéet wife, answered A­genor, but the comparison holdeth in this, that as the Ma­rigold resembleth the Sun both in colour and forme, so each mans wife ought euery way to be y e image of her husband, framing her countenance to smile, when shee sées him dis­posed to mirth, and contrarywise her eyes to teares, hee being surcharge with melancholy: As the Marigold dis­playeth the orient ornaments of her beautie, and to the resplendant view of none but her louer Hyperion: so ought not a woman of modestie lay open the allurements of her face to any but her espoused Phéere, in whose absence, like the Marigold in the absence of the Sunne, she ought to shut vp her dores, and solemnize continual night, til her husband, her Sun making a happy returne, vnsealeth her silence with the ioy of hid sight. Beléeue mee, but if all flowers (quoth Eriphila) affoord such influence of eloquence to our aduerse Orators, Ile exempt them all from my smell, for feare they be all planted to poison. Oft haue I heard (replyed Agenor) our cunning Phisicians conclude, that one poison is harme­lesse to another, which if they be so, there is no cause why a thistle should feare to be s [...]ung of a Natile. I can tell you sir, you were best beware, [...]eft in wading to [...] farre in compari­sons o [...] thistles and Nettle [...], you ochange not your Rose for a Nettle. If [...] Agenor, it is no more, but my gar­dener shall plucke it vp by the roots, and throw it ouer the wall as a wéed. To end this iest, which else would issue to a iarre, what purple flower is this in forme like a Hiacinth (quoth Eriphila) so cunningly dropped with bloud, as if na­ture had intermeddled with the Heralds art to [...]mblazon a bléeding heart? It [...] flower, into which Poets faigne, [Page] Venus [...] dying [...] to hi [...] turn [...]d afaire Boy, but [...] it [...]ossible ( [...] Eriphil [...]) that euer nature should be & so bounteous to a Boy, to giue him a face in despite of women so faira? faine would I sée such an obiect, and then would I defie beautie for imparting our ex­cellencie to any infer obiect. In saying those words, (as if fortune meant to present her fancie with her desired feli­citie) Romanio conducted by one of the Lorde, came with young Pleusidippus in his hand into the priuie Garden: where discoursing vnto the King the intent of Eurilochus, in presenting him with such an inestimable Iewell, the man­ner of his taking of the Strond of Arcadie, with other cir­cumstances of vowed allegeance: all which being greateful­ly accepted of Agenor, hee sealed their seuerall pardons, and gaue them leaue to depart. But when hee had tho­rowly obserued euerie perfection of young Pleusidippus, he burst into these termes of passion: Had Sea-bo [...]e P [...]ntia then an applyable eare in our idlenesse, that to testifie her eternall Deity, she should send vs a second Adonis, to delude our senses? what euer may deserue the name, faire haue I séene before, beautie haue I beheld in his brightest orbe, but neuer set eye on immortalitie before this houre. Eriphila, likewise in no lesse extasie, séeing her eyes to [...]azle with the re [...]exe of his beautie, and her chéeks tainted with a blush of disgrace by t [...]o too much gazing on his face, said: that either the Sun had left his b [...]wer to beguile their eyes with a bor­rowed shape (which could not keepe in his brightnesse,) or Cupid dis [...]ounted from his mother [...] lap, left his how, & qui­uer at random, to outbraue the Thessalonian dames in their beautie. In this contrariety of thoughts, being all plunged wel-nigh in a spéechlesse astonishment, the faire childe Pleu­sidippus, not vsed to such hyperbolicall spactators, broke off the silence, by calling for his victuals, as one whose empty stomacke slace his comming from sea, was not ouer-cleped with delicates. Wherout Agenor, reuiued from him trance, wherein the present wonder had inwrapt him, demaunded such questions [...] his name and parentage, as the Pyrats [Page] ignorance could not vnfolde: but hée being able to tell no more then this, that his mother was a Shephear [...]esse, and his owne name, Pleusidippus, cut off all other interrogato­ries, bp calling after his childish manner againe, for his din­ner. Whereupon, Agenor, commanding him to bee had in, and vsed in euery respect as the childe of a Prince, began in his solitarie walke by his countenance to ralculate his Na­tiuitie, and measure his birth by his beautie, contracti [...]g him in thought, heire to the Kingdome of Thessaly, and hus­band to his daughter, before he knew whence the childe des­cended, or who was his father.

But leauing yong Pleusidippus, thus spending his youth in the Thessalian Court, protected with the tender affection of such a courteous Foster-father as Agenor, returne wee where wee left, backe into Arcadie, and meete his mother the faire Samela returning from the Foldes: who hauing discoursed by the way as shee came home to Lamedon and Menaphon, what shee late saw and obserned in her Sonne, they both conioyned their iudgements to their conclusion, that he was doubtlesse borne to some greater fortunes then sheepcotes could containe, and therefore it behooued her to further his Destinies with some good and liberal educa­tion, and not to detaine him any longer in that trade of life, which his fortune withstood: but by the way, to rebuke him for tyrannizing so Lordly ouer the Boyes, left the neighbour Shepheards might haply intrude the name of in­iurie on them being Strangers; for his insulting ouer their children. With this determination came shée home, and calling for Pleusidippus, according to their former counsaile, hée would [...] wise bee found. Thereupon en­quirie was made among all the Shepheards, diligent search in euery Village, but stil the most carefullest Post re­turned with, Non est in [...]entus. Which Samela hearing, thin­king shee had vtterly lost him whom fortune had saued, began in this manner to act her vnrest: Dissembling Hea­uens, where is your happinesse? Vnconstant times, what are your triumphes? Haue you therefore hitherto fed mee [Page] with [...]ouie, that ye might at last poyson me with gall. Haue you [...]atted mee so long witly Sordenian smiles, that like the wracke of the Syrens, I might perish in your wiles? Curst that I was to a [...]ie in your courtesse [...] curst that I am to taste of your crueltie! O, Plousidippus, liuest thou, or art thou dead? No, thou art dead, dead to the world, dead to thy kins­folkes, dead to Cypres, dead to Arcadie, dead to thy mother Samela: and with thee dyes the Worlds wonder, thy kins­folkes comfort, Cypres soule, Arcadies hopes, thy mothers honors. Was this the prophecy of thy Soueraignty, to yéeld vp thy life: to death so [...]? wretched was I of all women, to bring the forth to this infencie.

O cruell The [...]i [...], that didst reuolue such vneuitable fate: hard-hearted death to prosecute me with such hate. Haue we therefore escap [...]e the [...]urio of the seas, to pepish on the land? was it not enough that we were exiled from higher prospe­ritie, but wee must all of vs suddenly be ouerwhelmed with the ouerflow of a second aduersitie? my husband & my father to be swallowed in the fury of the furge, and now thou to be (and therewith her eies distilled such aboundance of teares, as stopt the passage of her plaints, & made her séeme a more then second Niobe, be wailing her seuenfold sorrow vnder the forme of weeping Flint.) Menaphon, who had ouer­heard her all this while, as one that sought opportunitie to plead his vnrest, perceiuing her in that extremitie of agony for her sonnes supposed losse, stept to her presently and chée­red her vp in these these terme: faire shepherdesse, might y • [...] of contritiā rayse the dead frō destruction, then were it wis­dome to bewaile what wéeping might recall: but since such anguish is fruitlesse, and these plainings bootlesse, comfort your selfe with the hope of the liuing, and omit the teares for the dead. Why, quoth Samela, how is it possible a woman should lose him without gr [...]efe, whom shee hath conceiued with sorrowe he was, sw [...]te Menophon, the deuided halfe of my essence, soule to my ioyes, and life to my delights, as beaute [...]us in his birth, as is our bright how-hearing god, that played the Shepheard awhile for loue, amidst [Page] our pleasant Areadian downes. What euer he was in heau­tie, quoth Meniphon, procee [...]ed from your bountie, who may by marriage make his like when you please: therefore there is no cause, why you should so much grieue to [...] your first worke defaced, that of a new [...]old can forme a far bet­ter then euer he was [...] [...]ere more [...] his like proceede from [...] [...]oynes: I [...] hée made the Chamber bright with his beautie when he was borne, and check [...] the night with the golden rayes that gl [...]amed from his lookes: neuer more may [...] [...]e the mother of such a [...]. Yes, Samela (quoth the [...] but if thou wilt list to my loues, I will [...] th [...] with is [...] reas [...] as euer he was. Alas, poore Swaine, said [...]hée, thou hopest in vaine, fluee and her must reape what thou hast sowne, and gather into his [...], what thou hast [...] in the fur­row. Another [...] what I haue [...] Therewith he [...] [...] and s [...]tting his cap, he could not tell which way, in a hot [...] [...] vttered these words of fury: [...] of Greece, [...] thou my loue with this [...] ingratitude? [...] I therefore with my plentie supplyed thy [...], that thou [...] thy pride shouldest [...] my [...] thée iii [...], to wound me in thy welfare with disdaine Deceitful woman (an [...] there with he swore a holiday oath, by [...] the god of the sepheards) either ret [...]rat loue for loue, or I will turne thée forth of dores to [...] canst, and make thée pittied for thy pouertie, that [...] honored in euery mans eye through the support [...] of thy beautie. Be like then, quoth Same [...]a, when you on [...] me into your house, you [...] not in regard of the lawes of hospitaliti [...], but only with this [...] the Armes of your fancie: then Sir, I haue [...] am lesse indebled to your [...] I thought no lesse, said [...], when your struggling eye at our last [...]ea­ting, would [...] euery corner of our company, that you would proue suche kinde [...]: but if you will néedes [...] you [...] [...]aster, I [Page] warrant you: thou sée which of our heard lesse yongsters wil take you in, when I haue cast you forth. Th [...]se▪ said she, that out-countenante Menaphon and his [...]elfe, & are better able then your selfe: but howsoeuer I find their [...]auour, I hence­forth de [...]ie you and your fellowship. And therewith in great rage she flung away into the next chamber, where her vncle Lamedon lay sleeping, who complaining of Menaphons discourtesses, he strait inuented this remedie: There was a Shepheard called Moron (brother to Doron) that not long before dyed of a surfet, whose house and flocke being set to sale after his decease, he bought them both forthwith for Sa­mela, with certaine remainder of money he had, and therein enfeoffed her, mangre the surie of Menaphon, who when he saw she was able to support her state without his purse, be­came sicke for anger, and s [...]ent whole Eglogues in anguish. Sometime lying comi [...]ties in his h [...]d, he would complain him to the windes, of his [...] in these or such like words: Forlorne, and forsook [...], since Phisicks doth lothe thée, de­spayre be thy death, loue is a god, and des [...]iseth thée a man: fortune blinde, and cannot behold thy deserts: die, did, fond Menaphon, that vngratefully hast abandoned thy Mistresse. And therewith stretehed himselfe vpon his [...], as thinking to haue sl [...]p [...], he [...] was [...] by cares that [...]iled all rest from his eyes; where vpon taking his Pipe in his hand, twin [...] playing and singing he plained him thus.

Menaphons Song in his bed.
Your restlesse cares, companions of the night,
That wr [...]pt my ioyes, in folds of endlesse woes:
Tyre on my heart, and wound it wish your spight,
Since loue and fortune proues my equall foes.
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy d [...]ies,
Welcome, sweet griefe, the subiect of my layes.
Mourne heauens, mourne earth, your Shepheard is forlorne,
Mourne times, and houres, since bale inuades by bowre,
Curse euery tongue, the place where I was borne,
Curse euery thought, the life which makes me lowre.
[Page] Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy daies,
Welcome, sweet griefe, the subiect of my layes.
Was I not free? was I not fancies ayme?
Framde not desire my face to front disdainer
I was; she did: but now one silly maime
Makes me to droope, as he whom loue hath slaine.
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy dayes,
Welcome, sweet griefe, the subiect of my layes.
Yet drooping, and yet liuing to this death,
I sigh, I sue for pittie at her shrine:
Whose fierie eies exhale my vitall breath;
And make my flockes with parching heat to pine.
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy dayes,
Welcome, sweet griefe, the subiect of my layes.
Fade they, die I, long may she liue to blisse,
That feeds a wanton fire with fuell of her forme:
And makes perpetuall summer where she is,
Whiles I doe cry, ore-tooke with enules storme.
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy daies,
Welcome, sweet g [...]i [...]fe, the subiect of my layes.

No sooner had Menaphon ended this Dittie, but Pesana hearing that he was lately falne sicke, and that Samela and he were at mortall iarres, thinking to make hay while the Sunne shined, and take opportunitie by her forelocks, com­ming into his chamber, vnder pretence to visit him, fell into these termes: Why, how now, Menaphon, hath your new change driuen you to a night-cap? Beleeue mee, this is the strangest effect of loue that euer I saw, to fréeze so quickly the heart y e is set on fire so lately. Why, may it not be a bur­ning feuer aswell, quoth Menaphon, blushing? Nay, that can not bee, said Pesana, since you shake for colde, not sweate for heat. Why, if it be so, it is long of cold entertainment. Why, said Pesana, hath your h [...]te entertainment r [...]led your cou­rage?

No, but her vndeserued hate quite hindred my conquest. You know, said Pesana, where you might haue beene let [Page] in long ere this, without either [...] any such batterie. With this the Shepheard was [...] ▪ and Pesana ashamed: but at length regathering his spiri [...], to bowray his Mar­tyrdome, and make his old Mistris some new musicke, hee strained forth this Dittie.

Faire fields proud Floras vaunt, Why is't you smile
when as I languish?
You golden meads, why striue you to beguile
my weeping anguish?
I liue to sorrow, you to pleasure spring,
why doe you spring thus?
What will not B [...]re [...] temp [...]st [...] wrathfull King
take some pittie on vs?
And send forth winter in rustie weed,
to waile my bemonings;
Whiles I distrest doe tune my Countrey [...]ed
vnto my g [...]ings.
But heauen, and earth, time, place, and euery power,
haue with her conspired,
To turne my blissefull sweet to balefull sowre,
since I fond desired.
The heauen, whereto my thoughts may not aspire,
aye me vnhappy:
It was my fault t'imbrace my bane the fire,
that forceth me to dye.
Mine be my paine, but hers the cruell cause
of thi [...] strange torment:
Wherefore no time my banning prayers shall pause,
till proud she repent.

Well I perceiue, said Pesana, for all shee hath let you flye like a Hawke that hath lost her tyre, yet you meane to fol­low sute and seruice, though you get but a handful of smoke to the bargaine. Not so, said Menaphon, but perhaps I séeke to returne an il bargaine, as deare as I bought it. If you do so, you are wiser then this kercher sheweth you, said Pesa­na. Much idle prattle to this and had Menaphon with Pe­sana in his sicknesse; and long it was not, but that with [Page] good dyet and [...] (especially by her carefull atdendance) he began to [...] or vp his [...], and listen by little and little to the lo [...] [...] storned. Leaue we them to their equall [...] either of others societie, and l [...]t vs looke backe to Thessalie, where Samelac [...] strip­ling (now growne vp to the age of 16. yéeres) flourisht in ho­nor & feats of Armes aboue all the Knights of the Court, in­somuch, that the [...] of his fame, was the only news talkt on throughout euery [...] in Greece. But Olympia, the mistris of his prowesse (for [...] was the Kings daughter na­med) was [...] that most of all [...]xulted in the farre renowned reports of his martiall perfections, to whose prayse hee did consecrate all his ende [...]ours, to whose exquisite forme hee did dedicate all his aduentures. But Hel-borne fame, the eldest daughter of Bryoni [...], enuying the felicitie of these two famous louers, dismounted eftsoones from her brasse-soun­ding buildings, and [...] her selfe of her secrets in the presence of yong [...], among whose Catalogue the had not forgot to discouer the incomparable beauty of the Arcadian Shepheardesse, wherof the young Prince no sooner had receiued an inkling, but hée [...] vpon thornes till hée had satisfied his desire with her sight. Therefore on a time sitting with his Mistris at supper, when for table-talke it was debated amongst them, what Countrey [...] the most accomplished Dames for all things? after strangers and o­thers had deliuered vp their opinions without partialitie, one among them all▪ who had béene in Arcadie, gaue vp his verdit thus fréely: Gentlewoman (quoth hee) hee it no dis­grace for the Moone to stoop to the Sunne, for the Stars to giue place when Titan appeares: then I hope neyther the Thessalians will [...]ee moued, nor the Grecians agréeued, if I make Apoll [...]s Arcadie, beauties meridian: Neither will I proceed heerein as our Philosophical Po [...]ts are wont, that muster euery mouer in the Zodiacks, euery [...]xed Starre in the Firmament, euery elementall word of art in an Alma­nacke, to proue that Countrey for beautie most canonicall where their Mistris abideth: when as (God w [...]t) had they [Page] but learned of Apelles, N [...] Sutor [...] or [...], they would not haue aspired aboue their birth, or talked beyond their sowterly bringing vp. Our Arcadian Nymphs are faire and beautifull, thoug [...] not begotten of the Suns bright rayes, whose eyes vaunt loues armory to the view, whose angeli­cal faces are to the [...]bs [...] earth instéed of [...]rmament: view but this counterfeit, (and therewithal he shewed the picture of Samela) and sée if it be not of [...] to draw the Sun from his Sphere, or the Moone from her Circle, to gaze as the one did on the beautie of Daphne, or al night contemplate as the other on the forme of Endymion. Pleusidippus, who all this while heard his Tale with attentiue patience, no sooner be­held the radiant glorie of this resplendant face, but as a man already installed in eternitie, hee exclaimed thus abruptly: O Arcady, Arcady, [...]or [...]houses of nymphs, & nursery of beu­tie! At which words Olympia starting vp sodainly, as if she a second Iuno, had taken her Ioue in bed with Alcmens; and ouercasting the Chamber with a frowne that was able to mantle the World with an eternall night, she made passage to her choler in these termes of cōtempt: Beardlesse vpstart of I know not whence, haue the fauors of my bountie (not thy desert) entred thee so déeply in ouer-wéening presump­tion, that thou shouldest be the formost in derogation of o [...] dignity & blaspheming of my beauty? I tell thée miscreant, I scorne thy clownish Arcadie with his inferior comparisons, as one that prizeth her perfection aboue any created consti­tution. Pleusidippus, vpon this spéech stood plunged in a great perplexitie, whether he should excuse himselfe mildely, or take her vp roundly: but the latter béeing more leuell to his humour then the former, hée began thus to rowze vp his furie: Disdainfull dame, that vpbraidest mée with my birth as it were base, and my youth as it were boyish: know that though my Parents and Progeny are enuied by obscuritie, yet the sparkes of renowne that make my Eagle-minded thoughts to mount the heauenly fire imprisoned in the pan­nicles of my crest, inciting me to more déeds of honour, then stout Perseus effected with his sauch [...]n in the fields of Hes­peria, [Page] ascertaines my soule I was the Son of n [...] coward, but a gentleman: but [...] of parētage, is such an [...]yesore to thy enuy, hold, take thy sauors (and there with he threw her glo [...]e) and immortalize whom thou wilt with thy toyes, for I will to Arcadie in spite of thée, and thy affini­tie, there either to [...] out mischance, or a new Mistris.

With this, in a great [...]age he rose from the hoord, & would haue mounted himselfe to [...]part in that moode, had not the Lords & gentlemen there present disswaded him frō such an vnaduised enterprise. Neither was this vnkindnesse kept so secret, but it came to the Kings eare as hee was new risen from dinner, who for the loue he [...]ar [...] to Pleusidippus, whom he had honored with Knighthood not long before, and for the toward hopes he saw in him, took paines to go to the chāber where they were, & finding his daughter in strange manner perplexed with the thoughts of Pleusidippus departure, her eyes red, and her chéeks all to be blubberd with her iealous teares, he took her vp in this māner. Daughter, I thought I had chose such a one to be the obiect of your eye, as ye might haue euery way loued and honored as the Lord of your life, and not haue controlled as the slaue of your lust. Did I ther­fore grace him with my countenance, y e you should distaine him with your taunts? Péeuish gyrle, I aduise thée on my displeasure, eyther reconcile thy selfe betimes, and reforme thy vnreuerent termes, or I will disclaime the loue of a Fa­ther, and deale by thée no more as a daughter. Olympia, who already had sufficiently bitten on y e bridle, took these words more vnkindly then all her former bitternesse, which shee disgested but sowrely: neuerthelesse making necessitie the present times best policie, shee humbled her selfe as shee might with modestie, and desired the best interpretation of what was past. Pleusidippu [...], whose courteous inclination could not withstand this submission, in signe of reconcile­ment, gaue her a stoccado des labies: yet was he not so recon­ciled, but he kept on his purpose of going to Arcadie, wher­at Olympia (though she grudged inwardly, yet béeing loth to offend) held her peace, and determined to bestow vpon [Page] him a remembrance, wherby he might be brought to thinke on her in his absence, which was the deuice of a bleeding heart flothig in the Sea wa [...]es, curiously stamped in Gold, with this [...]otto about it: portum aut mortem, alluding as it séemed, to the deuice in his shield, wherein (because it was taken vp by Eurilochus on the shore) was cunningly drawn in a field argent, the sea waues with Venus sitting on the top, in token that his affection was alreadie fettred. Héere hold this (said she) my swéet Pleusidippus, and hang it about thy necke, that when thou art in Arcadie, it may be euer in thy eye, so shal these drops of ruth that paint out a painful truth withdraw thy fancie frō attracting strange beautie: which said, the teares gusht from her eyes, and Agenors likewise, who gaue him nothing so much in charge, as to make haste of his retaine. Pleus [...]ippus, though hee could haue bin con­tent to haue done the like for companie, yet hee had such a mind on his iourney, that he brake off such ceremonies, and hasted a shipbord, & in a Barke bound for Arcadie, hauing the wind fauorable, made a short cut: so as in a day and nights sailing, he arriued on the shore ioyning on the Promontorie where he, his mother, and Lamedon were first wracked.

Leaue we him wandring with some few of his traine that came with him along the sea-side, to séeke out some Towne or village where to refresh themselues, and let vs a while to the Court of Democles, where our Historie began▪ who ha­uing committed his daughter with her tender babe, her hus­band Maximinus and Lamedon his vncle, without eare or Mariner, to the fury of the mercilesse wanes, determined to leaue y e succession of his kingdome to vncertaine chance: for his Q. with Sephestiacs losse (whom shée déemed to bee dead) tooke such thought, that within short time after she died De­mocles as c [...]relesse of all weathers, spent his time Epicure-like in all kind of pleasures, that either art or expence might affoord, so as for his dissolute life hee seemed another Helio­gabalus, deriuing his securitie from that grounded tranqui­litie, which made it prouerbiall to the world, No heauen but Arcadia. Hauing spent many yéeres in this varietie of va­nitie, [Page] Fame determining to apply her selfe to his fancie, s [...]nnded in his eare the singular beautie of his daughter Sa­mela: he although hée were an old Colt, yet had not cast all his wanton téeth, which made him vnder the brute of being sicke of a grie [...]ous Apoplexie, steale from his Court secretly in the disguise of a shepheard, to come and séeke out Samela, who not a little proud of her new flocke, liued more conten­ted then if shée had béene Quéene of Arcadie, and Melicer­tus ioying not a little that shee was parted from Menaphon, vsed euery day to visite her without dread, and court her in such Shepheards termes as hee had, which how they plea­sed her, I leaue to you to imagine, when as not long after she vowed marriage to him solemnely in presence of all the Shepheards, but not to be solemnized till the prophecie was fulfilled, mentioned in the beginning of this Historie. Al­though this penance excéeded the limits of his patience, yet hoping that the Oracle was not vttered in vaine, and might as well (albeit he knew not which way) be accomplished in him as in any other, was contented to make a vertue of ne­cessitie, and await the vtmost of his destinie. But Pleusi­dipp [...]s, who by this time had perfected his policies, exchan­ging his garments with one of the Heardgroomes of Mena­phon, tracing ouer the plaines in the habite of a shepheard, chanced to meet with Democles as hee was new come into those quarters, whom mistaking for an old shepheard he be­gan many impertinent questions belonging to the Sheep­cotes; at last hee asked him if hee knew Samelaes shéepfold: who answering doubtfully to all alike, made him halfe an­gry: and had not Samela passed by at that instant, to fill her bottle at a spring néere the foot of the Promontory, he should like enough haue had first handsell of our new Shepheards shéephooke. But the wonder of her beautie so wrought with his wounded fancie, that he thought report a partial sprea­der of her prayses, and same too vase to talke of such formes. Samela espying this faire shepheard so farre ouergone in his gazing, stept to him, and asked him if he knew her that he so ouerlookt her. Pardon me, faire shepheardesse (said Pleusi­dippus,) [Page] if it be a fault, for I cannot chose being Eagle-sigh­ted, but gaze on the Sunne the first time I sée it. And truly I cannot chuse but compare you to one of Aesops Apes, that finding a Glow-worme in the night, tooke it for a fire: and y [...] séeing a face full of [...]eformitie [...], mistake it for the Sun. Indéed it may vs mine eye [...] made opposite to such an obiect may faile in their office, hauing their lights rebated by such brightnesse. Nay, not vnlike, quoth Samela, for else out of doubt you would sée your way better. Why, quoth Pleusi­dippus, I cannot go [...] not of the way [...] I méete such gli­stering Goddesses in my way▪ How now, Sir Paris, are you out of your Arithmoticke? I thinke you haue lost your wits with your eyes, that mistake Arcadie for Ido, and a Shep­heardesse for a Goddesse. How euer it please you (quoth Pleusidippus) to [...]rogate from my pr [...]wasse by the title of Paris, know that I am not so farre out of my Arithmeticke, but that by mistiplication I can make time of one, in an houres warning, or bee as good as a cipher to fill vp a place at the worst hand: for my wit sufficeth, be it neuer so simple, to proue both re and voce, that there can be no vacuum in re­rum natura: and mine eyes, or else they dec [...]iue me, will en­ter so farre in art, as, niger est [...] albo, and teach me how to discerne twixt blacke and white.

Much other circumstance of prattle passed betwéene them, which the Arcadian records doe not shew, nor I remember: sufficeth, he pleaded loue, and was rep [...]lst: which droue him into such a choler, that meeting him supposed Shepheard, who lying vnder a bush had al this while euer-heard them, hee entred into such termes of indignation, as Ioue sha­king his earth-quaking hayre, when h [...] sate in consultation of Licaon. Wherefore Democl [...]s perceiuing Pleusidippus repulst, who was euery way graced with the ornaments of nature, beganne to cast ouer his badde penny-worths, in whose face age had surrowed her wrinckles, except he [...] should lay his Crowne downe at her féete, and tell her hee was King of Arcadia; which in Common-wealth [...] respects, séeming not commodi [...]ns, hee thought to turns [Page] a new leafe, and make thisyoung Shepheard the meanes to perfect his purpose. He had not farre from that place a strong Castle, which was inhabited as then by none but Tilsmen and Heardgr [...]mes, thither did be perswade Pleu­sidippus to carry her perforce, and [...]ert that by constraint, that he could not atchiue by entreaty; who listning not a lit­tle to this counsaile, that was neuer plotted for his aduan­tage, presently put in practice what hee of late ga [...]e in pre­cepts, and waiting till the euening that Samela should fold her shéepe; hauing giuen hi [...] men the watch-word, ma [...]ger all the shepheardes adioyning, he mounted her behind him; and being by Democles directed to the Castle, hee made such ha [...]orke among the stubboorne. Heardsmen, that will they, nill they, he was Lord of the Castle. Yet might not this preuaile with Samela, who constant to her olde shepheard, would not entertaine any new loue: which made Plousidip­pus thi [...]lle all his Haruest lost in the reaping, and bl [...]mish all his delights with a mournfull drooping.

But Democles, that lookt for a mountaine of Gold in a Mole-hill, finding her alone, beganne to discourse his loue in more ample mann [...]r then euer Pleusidippus, telling her how hee was a King, what his reuenewes were, what power hee had to aduance her, with many other proude vaunts of his wealth, and prodigall termes of his treasure. Samela hearing the name of a King, and perceiuing him to be her Father, stood amazed like Medusae. Metamorpho­sis, and blushing [...] with intermingled sighes, beganne to thinke how iniurious Fortune was to her shewne in such an incestuous Father: but hee, hote-spurred in his purpose, gaue her no time to deliberate or consider of the matter, but required either a quick consent, or a present deniall. She told him, that the Shepheard Mdicertu [...] was alreadie inti­tled in the ine [...]rest of her beautie, wherefore it was in vaine what hee or any [...] th [...] could plead in the way of per­swasion.

[...]ee thereupon entring into a large field of the basenesse of shepheards, and royalties of Kings, with many other as­sembled [Page] sembled arguments of delight, that would haue fetche Ve­nus from her Sphere to dispo [...]: but Samela, whose mouth could disgest no other meate saue only her swéet Melicertus, ashamed so long to hold [...]arley with her father about such a matter, flung away to her withdrawing Chamber in a dissembled rage; and there, after her wonted manner be­wailed her misfortune [...].

Democles, plunge [...] thus in a Labyrinth of restlesse passi­ons, seeing Melicertus figure was so de [...]ply printed in the centre of her thoughts, as neyther the resolution of his fancie, his Metamorphosis from a King to a Trauailer, Crownes, Kingdome, preferments, (batteries that soone ouer throw the fortresse of womens fantasses) when Demo­cles, I say, saw that none of these could remoue Samela, hea­ring that the Arcadian Shepheards were in an vprore for the losse of their beautifull, Shepheardesse, his hote loue changing to a bird of coy disdaine, hee intended by some reuenge, eyther to obtaine his loue, or satisfie his hate: whereupon throughly resolued, hee stole away secretly in his shepheards apparell, and got him downe to the plaines, where he found all the Swaines in a mutinie about the re­couery of their beautifull Paragon. Democles stepping a­mongst the rowte, demaunded the cause of their contro­uersie. Mary sir, quoth Doron, bluntly, the flower of all our garland is gone. How meane you that sir, quoth hee? We had, answered Doron, an Ewe amongst our Rams, whose sléece was as white as the hayres that grow on Father Bo­reas chinne, or as the dangling dewlap of the siluer Bull, her front curled like to the Erimanthyan Boare, and span­gled like to the worsted stockings of Saturne, her face like Mars treading vpon the milke-white cloudes: beléeue me, Shepheard, her eyes like the fierie torches tilting against the Moone: This Paragon, this none, such, this Ewe, this Mistris of our flockes, was by a wily Fox stolne from our folds, for which these shepheards assemble themselues to recouer so wealthy a prize. What is hee, quoth Menaphon, that Doron is in such debate with? Fellow, canst thou tell [Page] vs any newes of the faire Shepherdesse, that the Knight of Thessalie hath carried away from her fellow Nymphes. De­mocles thinking to take apportunitie by the forehead, & sée­ing time had feathered his bolt, willing to assay as he might to hit the marke, began thus. Shepheards, you sée my pro­fession is your trade, and although my wandring fortunes bee not like your home-borne fauours, yet were I in the Groues of Thess [...]lian Tempe, as I am in the plaines of Arcadie, the Swaines would giue me as many due honors, as they present you héere with submisse reuerence. Beauty that drew Apollo from heauen to play the Shepheard, that fetcht Ioue from heauen to beare the shape of a Bull for A­genors daughter, the excellence of such a metaphysicall ver­tue, I mean (shepheards) the fame of your faire Samela, ho­uering in the eares of euery man as a miracle of nature, brought mee from Thessaly to féed mine eyes with Arcadies wonder: stepping alongst the shore to come to some sheepe­cote, where my wearie limmes might haue rest. Loue that for my labors thought to lead me to fancies pauillion, was my conduct to a Castle, where a Thessalian Knight lyes in hold; the Portcullis was let downe, the bridge drawne, the court of gard kept: thither I went, & for my tongue I was knowne to be a Thessalian, I was entertained and lodged: the Knight whose yeeres are yong, and valure matchlesse, holding in his armes a Lady more beautifull then Loues Quéene, all blubbred with teares, asked me many questions, which as I might I replyed vnto: but while he talkt, mine eye surfeiting with such excellence, was detained vpon the glorious shew of such a wonderfull obiect: I demaunded what she was, of the standers by, and they said she was the faire Shepheardesse, whom the Knight had taken from the Swains of Arcadie; and would carry with y e first wind that serued into Thessalie: this (shepheards) I know, and grieue that thus your loues should be ouermatcht with Fortune, and your affections puld backe vp contrarietie or destinie. Melicertus hearing this, the fire sparkling out of his eyes, began thus, I tell thée, shepheard, if Fates with their fore­pointing [Page] pensils did pen downe, or fortune with the deepe varietie resolue, or loue with his greatest power determine to depriue Arcadia of the beautifull Samela, wee would with our bloud signe downe such spels on the plaines; that either our gods should summon her to Elizium, or she rest with vs quiet & fortunate: thou séest the shepheards are vp in Arimes to reuenge, only it rests who shal haue the honor and princi­palitie of the field. What néeds that question, quoth Mena­phon, am not I the Kings Shepheard, and chiefe of all the bordering Swaines of Arcadia? I grant, quoth Melicertus, but am not I a Gentleman, though tyred in a Shepheards skincote, superior to thée in birth, though equall now in pro­fession? Wel, from words they had falne to blowes, had not the shepheards parted them, and for the auoiding of further troubles, it was agréed that they should in two Eglog [...]es make description of their loue: and Democles, for he was a stranger, to fit Censor, and who best could decipher his Mistris perfection, should be made generall of the rest. Me­naphon and Melicereus condestended to this motion, and Democles sitting as a Iudge, the rest of the shepheards stand­ing as witnesses of this combate, Menaphon began thus.

Menaphons Eglogue.
Too weake the wit, too slender is the braine,
That meanes to marke the power and worth of loue:
Not one that liues (excep the hap to proue)
Can tell the sweet, or tell the secret paine.
Yet I that haue beene prentice to the griefe,
Like to the cunning Sea-man, from afarre
By gesse will take the beautie of that starre,
Whose influence must yeeld me chiefe reliefe.
You Censors of the glory of my deare,
With reuerence, and lowly bent of knee:
Attend and marke what her perfections be,
For in my words my fancies shall appeare.
Her lockes are plighted like the [...]leece of wooll,
That Iason with his Grecian mates atchiu'de:
[Page] As pure as gold, yet not from gold deriu'd,
As full of sweets, as sweet of sweets is full:
Her browes are prettie tables of conceit,
Where loue his records of delight doth qu [...]te:
On them her dallying lockes doe daily [...]lore,
As loue full of [...] doth feede vpon the b [...]ite:
Her eyes, faire eyes, liketh the purest lights
That animate the Sunne, or [...]eere the daie:
In whom the shining Sun-beames brightly plaie,
Whiles fancie doth on them diuine delights.
Her cheeke [...] like ripened Lillies steept in wine,
Or faire Pomegranate kernels washt in milke:
Or snow-white threds, in nets of crimson silke,
Or gorgeous cloudes vpon the Sunnes decline.
Her lips like Roses ouerw [...]sht with dew,
Or like the purple of Nar [...]issus flower:
No frost their faire, no winde doth waste their power,
But by her breath, her beauties doe renew.
Her christall chin like to the purest mold,
Enchac'd with daintiest Daisies soft and white:
Where fancies faire Pauilion once is pight,
Whereas imbrac'd his beauties he doth hold.
Her necke like to an I [...]orie shining Towre,
Where through with azure veines sweet Nectar runne [...]:
Or like the downe of Swannes where S [...]ness [...] wo [...]nes,
Or like delight that doth it selfe deuoure.
Her paps are like faire Apples in the prime,
As round as orient pearles, as soft as downe:
They neuer veile their faire through winters frowne,
But from their sweets loue suckt his Summer time.
Her bodies beauties best esteemed bowre,
Delicious comely, daintie, without staine:
The thought whereof (not toucht) hath wrought my paine,
Whose faire, all faire and beauties doth deuoure.
Her maiden wount, the dwelling house of pleasure,
Not like, for why no like surpasseth wonder:
O blest is he may bring such beauties vnder,
[Page] Or search by sute the secrets of that treasure.
Deuour'd in though, how wanders my deuio [...]?
What rests behind I must diuine vpon.
Who talkes the best, can say but [...]airer none:
Few words well coucht doe most content the wise.
All you that heare, let not my filly stile
Condemne my zeale: for what my tongue should say,
Serues to inforce my thoughts to seeke the way,
Whereby my woes and cares I doe beguile.
Seld speaketh Loue, but sighes his secret paines,
Teares are his Truce-men, words doe make him tremble [...]
How sweet is loue to them that can dissemble,
In thoughts and lookes, till they haue reapt the gaines?
A lonely I am plaine, and what I say
I thinke, yet what I thinke tongue cannot tell:
Sweet Censors, take my silly worst for well:
My faith is firme, though homely be my lay.

After the haplesse Menaphon had in this homely discourse shadowed his heauenly [...]rlight, the shepheard Melicertus, after some pause, began in this sort.

Melicertus Eglogue.
What need compare, where sweet exceeds compare?
Who drawes his thoughts of loue from fencelesse things,
Their pompe and greatest glorie doth impaire,
And mount Loues heauen with ouer-leaden wings.
Stones, hearbes, and flowers, the foolish spoiles of earth,
Flouds, metals, colours, dalliance of the eye:
These shew, conceit is stain'd with too much dearth:
Such abstract fond compares make cunning dye.
But he that hath the feeling taste of loue,
Deriues his essence from no earthly ioy:
A weake conceit his power cannot approue,
For earthly thoughts are subiect to annoy.
[Page] Be whist, be still, be silent Censors now,
My fellow-swaine▪ h [...]as told a prettie Tale,
Which moderne Poets may perhap [...] allow,
Yet I condemne the termes, for they are stale.
Apollo, when my Mistris first was borne,
Cut off his lockes, and left them on her head,
And said, I plan [...] these wires in Natures scorne,
Whose beauty shall appeare when Time is dead.
From forth the Christall Heauen, when she was made,
The puritie thereof did [...]aint her brow:
On which the glist'ring Sunne that sought the shade,
Gan set, and there his glories, doth auow.
Those eyes, faire eyes, too faire to be describde,
Were those that earst the Chaos did reforme:
To whom the heauens their beauties haue ascribde,
That fashion life in man, in beast, in worme.
When first her faire delicious cheekes were wrought,
Aurora brought her blush, the Moone her white:
Both so combinde as passed natures thought,
Compilde those prettie Orbes of sweet delight.
When Loue and Nature once were proude with play,
From both their lips her lips the corrall drew:
On them doth fancie sleepe, and euerie day
Doth swallow-ioy, such sweet delights to view.
Whilome, while Venus sonne did seeke a bowre,
To sport with Psiches, his desired deare,
He chose her chin, and from that happy stovvre,
He neuer stints in glorie to appeare.
Desires and ioyes that long had serued Loue,
Behold a hold, whence prettie eyes might woo them;
Loue made her necke, and for their bost behoue
Hath shut them there, whence no man can vndoe them.
Once Venus dreamt vpon two pretie things,
Her thoughts they were affections chiefest nests:
She suckt and sighde, and bathde her in the springs,
And when she wakte, they were my Mistris brests.
[Page] Once Cupid sought a hold to couch his kisses,
And found the bodie of my best belou'd,
Wherein he closde the beautie of his blisses,
And from that bowre can neuer be remou'd.
The Graces earst, when Alcedelian springs▪
Were waxen drie, perhaps did find her fountaine
Within the bale of blisse, where Cupids wings
Doe shield the Nectar fleeting from the mountaine.
No more, fond man: things infinite, I see,
Brooke no dimension: hell a foolish speech,
For endlesse things may neuer talked be,
Then let me liue to honour and beseech.
Sweet Natures pompe, if my deficient phrase
Hath stain'd thy glories by too little skill,
Yeeld pardon, though mine eye that long did gaze,
Hath left no better patterne to my quill.
I will no more, no more will I detaine
Your listning eares with dalliance of my tongue:
I speake my ioyes, but yet conceale my paine,
My paine too olde, although my yeeres be young.

As soone as Melicertus had ended this Eglogse, they ex­pected the doome of Democles, who hearing the swéete de­scription, wherein Melicertus described his Mistris, won­dered that such rare conceits could bee harboured vnder a Shepheards gray clothing: at last hee made this answere. Arcadian Swaines, whose wealth is content, whose labours [...]e tempered with sweete loues, whose mindes aspire not, whose thoughts brooke no enuie, only as riuals in affecti­on, you are friendly emulato [...] in honest fan [...]ie: sith for­tune (as enemie to your quiet) hath rest you of your faire Shepheardesse (the worlds wonder, & Arcadies miracle) and one of you as champion must lead the rest to reuenge, both destrous to shew your valor as your forwardnesse in affec­tion, & yet (as I said) one to be whole chieftaine of the traine, I awarde to Melicertus that honour (as to him that hath most curiously portraied out his Mistris excellence) to [Page] heare the sole rule and supremacie. At this, Menaphon grud­ged, and Melicertus was in an extasse of ioy, so that gathe­ring all his [...]orces together of stout head-strong clownes a­mounting to the number of some aco. hee apparrelled him selfe in armor, colour sabled, as mourning for his Mistris: in his shield hee had figured the waues of the sea, Venus sit­ting on them in the height of all her pride. Thus marched Melicertus forward with old Domocle [...], the supposed Shep­heard, till they came to the Castle where Pleusidippus and his faire Samela were resident. As soone as they came there, Melicertus begirt the Castle with such a siege, as so many shéepish Caualiers could furnish: which when hee had done, summoned them in the Castle to parley: the young Knight slept vpon the wals, and séeing such a crue of base companions, with iackets and rustie bils on their barkes, fell into a great laughter, and began to taunt them thus: Why, what strange Metamorphosis is this? Are the plaines of Arcadie, whilome filled with labourers, now ouer-laide with Launces? Are shéepe transformed into men, swaines into souldiers, and a wandring companie of poore Shep­heards, into a worthie troupe of resolute Champions: No doubt, either Pan meanes to play the God of warre, or else these be but such men as rase of the téeth of Cadmus. Now, I sée the beginning of your warres, and the pretended end of your stratagems: the shepheards hauing a madding hu­mor like the Greekes to séeke for the recouerie of Helena, so you for the regaining of your faire Samela. Héere shée is a shepheardesse, & I a Priam to defend her with resistance of a ten yéeres st [...]ge [...]yet, for I were loth to haue any castle sacht like Troy, I pray you tal [...] me, which is Agamemnon? Me­licertus hearing the youth speaking thus proudly, hauing the sparks of honor fresh vnder the cinders of pouertie, inci­ted with loue and valour, (two things to animate the most dastard Thersites to enter combat against Hercules) answe­red thus: Vnknowne yongster of Thessalie, if the feare of thy hardy deeds, were like the diapas [...]n of thy threats, wee would thinke the Castle of longer siege, then either our a­ges [Page] would permit, or our valour aduenture: but where the shelfe is most shallow, there the water breakes most high: emptie vessels haue the highest sounds, hollow rockes the [...]owdest ecchoes, & prattling Gloriosors the smallest perfor­mance of courage: for proofe whereas, swing thou hast made a rape of faire Samela, one of her vowed shepherds is come for the safetile of her word [...] to selfe, to chall [...]nge thée to single combat: if thou ouercome mée, thou shalt fréely passe with the shepherdesse to Thessalie: if I vanquish thée, thou shalt feele the burden of thy rashnesse, and Samela the sweetnesse of her libertie. Pleusidippus maruelled at the resolution of the shepheard: but when Domocles heard how if he wonne, she should be transported into Thessalie, a world of sorrows tumbled in his discontented braine, that hee hammered in his head by many meanes to stay the faire Samela: for when Pleusidippus in a great choler was readie to throw downe his gantlet, and to accept of she comda [...] Democles stept vp, and spake thus: Worthy Mirrors of resolued magnani­mity, whose thoughts are aboue your fortunes, and whose valour more than your reuenewes, know that Bitches that puppie in haste, bring forth blind Whelpes, that there is no herbe sooner sprung vp than the Spattarmia, nor sooner fa­deth: the fruite too soone ripe are quickly rotten, that déeds done in haste are repented at leisure. Then braue m [...]n in so weightie a cause, and for the conquest of so excellent a Para­gon, let not one minute begin and end the quarrell, but like Fabius of Rome vse delay in such dangerous exploits, when honor sits on wreaths of Laurell to giue y • Vie [...]or his Gar­land: defer it some thrée daies, & then in solemne manner end the combat. To this good motion, not only Pleusidippus, and Melicertus agreed, but all y • company were consenting, and vpon pledges of truce giuen, they rested. But Democle [...] sée­ing in couert hee could not conquer, and that in despairing loues secrecie was no salue, he dispatcht letters to the No­bilitie of his Court, with strait charge that they should bée in that place within three daies with 10000. strong. This newes came no sooner to the Generall of his forces, but le­uying [Page] so many approued Souldiers, hee marched secretly by night to the place Democles in his Letters had prescri­bed, and there ioyfully entertained by the King, they were placed in ambash, readie when the signall should hee giuen to issue out of the place, & performe their Soueraignes com­mand. Well, the third day being come, no sooner did Titan arise from the watery couch of his Lemman, but these two Champions were readie in the lists, accompanied with the rout of all the Arcadian shepheards, and old Democles whom they had appointed for one of the Iudges. Pleusidippus sée­ing Melicercus aduance on his shield the waues of the Sea, with a Venus sitting vpon them, maruelled what the shep­heard should be that gaue this Armes, and Melicercus was as much amazed to sée & strange Thessalian Knight vaunt his Armes without difference: yet being so fraught with direful reuenge, as they scorned to salute each other so much as with threats, they fell toughly to blowes. Samela stan­ding on top of a Turret, and viewing the combat, the poore Lady gréeuing, that for her cause such a stratageme should arise in Arcadie, her countenance full of sorrow, & flouds of teares falling from her eyes, shee began to breathe out her passion. Vnfortunate Samela, borne to mishaps, & forepoin­ted to sinister fortunes, whose bloomes were ripened to mis­chāce, and whose fruit is like to wither with despaire, in thy youth sate discontent pruning her selfe in thy forehead, now in thy age sorrow hides her selfe amongst the wrinckles of thy face; thus art thou infortunate in the prime, and crossed with contrary accidents in thy autumne, as haplesse as He­lens, to haue the burden of warres laid on the wings of thy beauty. And who must be the Champion? whose sword must pierce the Helmet of thine enemie? Whose bloud must pur­chace the freedome of Samela, but Melicercus? if he conquer, then Samela triumphs, as if shee had beene chiefe Victor in the Olympiades: if hee lose euery droppe falling from his wounds into the cētre of his thoughts, as his death to him, so shall it be to me, the end of my loues, my life, and my liberty. As stil she was about to goe forward in her passion, [Page] the trumpet sounded, and they fell to fi [...]ht in such furious sort, as the Arcadians and D [...]mocles himselfe wondred to sée the courage of the Shepheard, that he tyed the Knight to such a [...]ore taske. Pleusidippus likewise féeling an extraordi­nary kind of force, & séeing with what courage the Knight of the Shepheards fought, began to coniecture diuersly of the warre, and to feare the euent of the combat. On the contrary part, Melicertus halfe wearied with the heauie blowes of Pleusidippus, stood in a maze how so yong a wa [...] should be so expert in his weapon.

Thus debating diuersly in their seuerall thoughts, at length being both weary, they stept backe, and leaning on their swords, tooke breath, gazing each on other. At last, Pleusiddippus burst into these spéeches. Shepheard in life, though now a Gentleman in armor, if thy degree be better, I glory, I am not disgraced with the combate: tell me, how [...]rest thou so farre wrong [...], as to beare mine armes on thy shield? Princocks (quoth Melicercus) thou lyest, they be mine owne, and thou contrary to the law of Armes bearest my Crest without difference, in which quarrell, séeing it concerneth my honour, I will reuenge it as farre as my loues: and with that he gaue such a charging blow at Pleu­sidippus helme, that he had almost ouer-turned him: Pleusi­dippus left not the blow vnrequited, but doubled his force: insomuch that the hazard of the battell was doubtfull, and both of them were [...]aine to take breath againe. Democles séeing his time, that both of them were so weakened, gaue the watch-word, and the ambush lept out, slaughtered ma­ny of the Shepheards, put the rest to flight, tooke the two Champions prisoners, and sacking the Castle, carryed them and the faire Samela to his Court: letting the Shep­heardesse haue her liberty, but putting Melicertus and Pleu­sidippus into a déep and darke dungeon.

Where leauing these passionate Louers in this Cata­strophe, againe to Doron, the homely blunt Shepheard: who hauing béene long enamoured of Carmela, much good wooing past betwixt them, and yet little spéeding: at last, [Page] both of them met hard by the Promontory of Arcadie, shee leading forth her sheepe, and he going to sée his new yeaned Lambes. As soone as they met, breaking a few quarter blowes with such country glances as they could, they gée­red one at another louingly. At last, Doron manfully began thus.

Carmela, by my troth good morrow, it is as daintie to sée you abroad, as to eate a messe of swéet milke in Iuly: you are proued such a house-doue of late, or rather so good a huswise, that no man may sée you vnder a couple of Capons: the Church-yard may stand long enough ere you will come to looke on it, and the Piper may beg for euery penny he gets out of your purse: but it is no matter, you are in loue with some stout Ruffler, and yet poore folkes, such as I am, must be content with pottage: and with that, turning his backe, he smiled in his sléeue, to sée how kindly he had giuen her the [...]ob: which Carmela séeing, she thought to be euen with him thus.

Indéed, Doron, you say will, it is long since we met, and our house is a grange house with you: but we haue tied vp the great dog, and when you come, you shall haue green ru­shes, you are such a stranger: but it is no matter, soone hote, soone cold, he that mingles himselfe with draffe, the hogges will eate him: and shée that layes her loue on an vnkind man, shall find sorrow enough to eate her sops withall. And with that, Carmela was so ful stomackt that she wept.

Doron, to shew himselfe a naturall yong man, gaue her a few kind kisses to comfort her, and sware, that shee was the woman he loued best in the World, and for proofe (quoth he) thou shalt heare what I will prayse: and you (quoth she) what I will performe. And so taking hand in hand, they kindly sate them downe, and began to discourse their loues, in these Eglogues.

Dorons Eglogues ioyned with Carmelaes.

Sit downe, Carmela, heere are cubs for Kings,
Slowes blacke as Iet, or like my Christmas shoes:
[Page] Sweet Sidar, which my leathern bottle brings:
Sit downe, Carmela, let me kisse thy toes.
Carmela.
Ah, Doron, ah my hart, thou art as white
As is my mothers Calfe, or brinded Cow:
Thine eyes are like the slow-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 sweat vpon thy face doth oft appeare,
Like to my mothers fat and kitchin gaine.
Ah, leaue my toe, and kisse my lips, my loue,
My lips are thine, for I haue giuen them thee:
Within thy cap tis thou shalt weare my gloue,
At foot-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 iuyce is iumbled there withall:
Thy breath is like the steame of apple-pyes.
Thy lips resemble two Cowcumbers faire,
Thy teeth like to the tusks of fattest swine,
Thy speech is like the thunder in the ayre:
Would God thy toes, thy lips and all were mine.
Carmela.
Doron, What thing doth moue this wishing griefe?
Doron.
This Loue, Carmela, ah, tis cruell Loue:
That like a slaue, and caytiue villaine theefe,
Hath cut my throat of ioy for my behoue.
Carmela.
Where was he borne?
Doron.
In faith I know not where:
But I haue heard much talking of his dart:
Aye me poore man, with many a trickling teare,
I feele him wound the forchearse of my hart.
[Page] What, doe I loue? O no, I doe but talke.
What, shall I die for loue? O no, not so:
What, am I dead? O no, my tongue doth walke.
Come kisse Carmela, and confound my woe.
Carmela.
Euen with this kisse, as once my father did,
I seale the sweet endentures of delight:
Before I breake my vow, the gods forbid,
No not by day, nor yet by darksome night.
Doron.
Euen with this garland made of Holly-hocks,
I crosse thy browes, from euery shepheards kisse:
Heigh ho, how glad am I to touch thy locks,
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 chapter parent with my thums,
Come kisse and part, for feare my mother comes.

Thus ended this merrie Eglogue betwixt Doron and Carmela: which (Gentlemen) if it be [...]ust with prettie Si­milies, and farre fetcht Metaphors, thinke the poore coun­try Louers knew no further comparisons the [...] oure with­in compasse of their country Logicke. Well, twas a good world, when such Simplicitie was vsed, say [...]s the old Wo­men of our time, when a ring of a rush would tie as much loue together as a gimmon of gold: but gentlemen, [...]ce we haue talkt of loue so long, you shall giu [...] [...] leaue [...] shew my opinion of that foolish sanc [...]e, th [...].

Sonetto.
What thing is loue? It is a power diuine,
That reignes vs, or else a wreakfull law,
That doomes our mindes to beauty to incline.
It is a starre, whose influence doth draw
[Page] Our hearts to loude [...] being of his might,
Till he be master of our hearts and fight.
Loue is a discord, and a strange di [...]
Betwixt our sense and reason, [...] whose power
As mad with reason we admit that force,
Which wit or labour [...] may deuoure.
It is a will that brooketh no consent:
It would refuse, yet [...] may repent.
Loue's a desire, which for to wallen [...],
Doth lose an age of yeeres, and so doth passe
As doth the shadow [...]e [...]ered from his prime,
Seeming as though it were, yee neuer [...]:
Leauing behinde nought but repent [...]nt thoughts
Of dayes ill spent, for that which profit [...]ough [...]s.
It's now a peace, and then a sudden warre,
A hope consumde before it is conceiu'd,
At hand it feares, and menac [...] [...],
And he that games, is most of all deceiu'd.
It is a secret hidden and not knowne,
Which one may better feele then [...] vpon.

Thus Gentlemen haue you heard my verdit in this So­ [...] now will I returne to [...] Carmela, who not seeing her mother come, sell aga [...] to a [...], and thus it was.

After they had thus [...] their Eglogues, they plighted faith and truth, and Carmela, very bris [...]ly [...] her mouth with a [...] it▪ with a kisse, which Doron taketh [...] a little pay­ing loth to depart, they [...] went a [...] their [...] Leauing them therefore [...] their [...] againe to Demo­cles, who séeing no [...] to perswade; Sa­mela to loue, neither the hope of the [...] crowne, no [...] the title of a [...] lastly [...] threats, but all in vaine: for [...] by nature, [...] that he was her father, and [...] by loue, in that [...] Meli­certus lay imprisoned onely for her [...] [Page] [...] erauing pardon of Maxim [...]us and Sephestia: and to shew that the outward [...] of his watery eyes had a [...] thy with the [...] of his heart, hee impa [...] ­ [...]d the head of his young Nephew Pleufidippus with the Crowne and Diademe of Arcadie: for that his brother La­medon had in all distresse not left his daughter Sephestia, he tooke the matter so kindly, that he reconciled himselfe vnto him; and made him Duke in Arcadie. The successe of this fore-rehearses [...] g [...]wing so Comicall, they all concluded after the [...] solemnizing of the Coronation (which was made famous with the excellent déeds of many worthy [...],) to passe into Thessa [...]e, to contract the marriage betwixt Pleusidippus, and the daughter of the Thessalian King. Which nowes spred through Arcadie as a wonder, that at last it came to Menaphons eares: who hea­ring the high parentage of his supposed Samela, séeing his passions were too aspiring, & that with the Syrian Wolues he barked agains the Moone, he left such Lettice as were too fine for his lips, and courted his olde loue Pesana, to whom shortly after he was married. And lest there should her left any thing vnperfect in this pastorall accident, Doron [...] himselfe vp, and ium­ped a marriage with his old friend Car­mela.

FINIS.

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