THE Countess of Pembrokes Yuychurch.  
Containing the affectionate life, and unfortunate death of Phillis and Amyntas: That in a Pastoral; This in a Funeral: both in English Hexameters.  
By ABRAHAM FRAVNCE.  
LONDON, Printed by Thomas Orwyn for William Ponsonby, dwelling in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Bishop's head.  
1591.   

To the right excellent, and most honourable Lady, the Lady Marie, Countess of Pembroke.  
IF Amyntas found favour in your gracious eyes, let Phillis be accepted for Amyntas sake. I have somewhat altered S. Tassoes Italian, & M. watsons Latin Amyntas, to make them both one English. But Tassoes is Comical, therefore this verse unusual: yet it is also Pastoral, and in effect nothing else but a continuation of aeglogues, therefore no verse fit than this. For such as generally mislike this reformed kind of verse, as I spoke before, so I say still, I never heard better argument of them than this; Such an one hath done but ill, therefore no man can do well: which reason is much like their own rhymes, in condemning the art, for the fault of some artificers. For others, that like well of the thing, but not of my peculiar labour herein, mine answer is the same it was: if there were any penalty appointed for him that would not read, he might well complain of me that publish it to be read: But if it be in every man's choice to read it, or not to read; why then not in mine also to publish or not to publish it? He that will, let him see and read; he that will neither read nor see, is neither bound to see nor read. If any begin to read, when he beginneth to take no delight, let him leave off, and go no further. If he follow on in reading without pleasure, let him neither blame me, that did what I could; nor be angry with the thing, which hath no sense; but reprehend himself, who would continue in reading, without any pleasure taking.  
Your Honour's most affectionate, Abraham France.   

Amyntas' Pastoral. The first part of the Countess of Pembrokes Yuychurch.  

The Speakers.  
Cupid in a shepherds cloak.  
Daphne.  
Phillis.  
Amyntas.  
Thyrsis.  
Elpinus.  
A Satire.  
Fulvia.  
Ergastus.  
Chorus, all of Shepherds.   

The Prologue by Cupid in a shepherds cloak.  
WHo would think that a God lay lurking under a grey cloak,  
Silly Shepherds grey cloak, & armed with a paltry sheephook?  
And yet no petty God, no God that god's by the mountains,  
But the triumphantst God that bears any sway in Olympus:  
Which many times hath made man-murdring Mars to be cursing  
His bloodsucking blade; and prince of watery empire  
Earth-shaking Neptune, his threeforckt mace to be leaving,  
And jove omnipotent, as a poor and humble obeissant,  
His three-flaked lightnings and thunderbolts to abandon.  
And I believe, thus shaped, and thus with a mantle adorned  
Lady Venus will scarce find out her wily Cupid,  
Mine own mother, I hope, will scarce take me for her own son.  
She makes me run away, and thus compels me to hide me,  
For that still she bids, and still commands as a mother  
Boy, and bow, and all: and still persuades as a woman  
Proud-harted woman, that I bend my bow to the Court still,  
And, as a Lord, with Lords and Ladies still be a dwelling:  
As for parks and woods, such wooden stuff she referreth  
Unto the wanton wags that wait on Lordly Cupid.  
But let a woman talk, let boys be afraid of a woman,  
Lord of love's no boy, although that he seem to be boy-like:  
I'll bestow myself, as best shall seem to my owneself;  
Doves be my mother's birds, but destiny gave to Cupid  
All-inflaming lamp and golden bow for a weapon.  
Oftentimes do I hide myself, and fly fro my mother  
(Not that I own any suit as a servile slave to my mother,  
But that I can not abide to be daily desired by my mother  
For to renounce Hoblobs, and aim at a King or a Kaiser)  
Oftentimes do I fly, and shroud myself in a thicket,  
Leaving Crystal thrones for bowers and rustical harbours:  
But no sooner I can convey myself from Olympus,  
But she gins to demand and ask for lovely Cupid,  
where's that wandering boy, that vile boy, lovely Cupid?  
Seek and search my boy, my wag, my lovely Cupid:  
Look for a curldpate boy, his wings will quickly bewray him,  
Look for a boy with a lamp and bow and quiver about him:  
Whoso finds my boy, my joy, my lovely Cupid,  
And brings back my boy, shall have for a friendly remembrance,  
Either a sweet sweet kiss, or somewhat more than a sweet kiss:  
As though Lovely Cupid to a friend that love's to be silent,  
Neither could nor would allow for a fryendly remembrance  
Either a sweet sweet kiss, or somewhat more than a sweet kiss.  
And, I believe, my kiss, (if love intent to be lovely)  
Will be a sweeter kiss to a lass then Queen cytheraea's.  
Thus, many times in vain she seeks for lovely Cupid,  
Loving girls are loath to bewray their lovely Cupid.  
Yet, to be more secure, my curledlocks I do curtal,  
My wings are laid down, my bow and quiver abandoned,  
Weapons all set aside; and yet love stands not unarmed.  
For this staff, that seems but a toy, that I bear for a fashion,  
Is loves lamp indeed, and bears but a show of a sheephook,  
Lou'es transformed lamp, with most invincible ardour,  
Most invisible heat, and secret ardour abounding,  
Though in form but rude, and goldhead seems to be wanting,  
Whoso feeles his force shall find it not to be poyntles,  
Where it lights it works, and leaves impression endless:  
This blunt dart shall give that cureless wound to the hartroote  
Of loveles damsel, most loveles damsel amongst all  
Those loveles damsels that wait on mighty Diana.  
Phillis (that's her name) disdainefulst wench of a thousand  
Shall in her hardest heart conceive as mighty a loves-wound,  
As was that, that I made in tender breast of Amyntas.  
Now many pleasant springs are past, since young Lad Amyntas  
And young girl Phillis, themselves were wont to be sporting,  
Now to be gathering flowers, and filberts now to be cracking,  
Now to be laying begins for birds, and now to be angling:  
And yet, that this blow may make more forcible entrance  
And more speedily pierce, i'll stay and look for a fit time:  
When pity moves her mind, and makes her breast to be tender,  
Then will I strike and wound; and that this lovely beginning  
May as luckyly end, i'll talk and walk as a herdsman,  
And so insinuate myself to the company rural  
Of these jolly Shepherds which hither now be repairing,  
All in a brave merriment dame Flora'es wakes to be keeping,  
With their garlands green, and boughs of Myrtle adorned.  
Here, even here will I make that most incurable harts-wound  
Which no mortal eye shall see: then lovely Cupid  
Lovely Cupidoe's fame in these woods shallbe resounding,  
These woods than shall feel a triumphant power to be present,  
And perceive that I work by myself, and not by my servants:  
Noble thoughts will I send, and high conceits will I breathe forth  
Into the lowli'est minds, and frame their voice to a sweeter  
And more sugared tune: for wheresoever I harbour,  
Wheresoever I keep, i'll still be the lovely Cupid,  
aswell in Hoblobs' heart, as in heart of a King or a Kaiser,  
And as I list, I do make an unaequall mind to be equal:  
And this is only my joy, and herein most do I glory,  
That by the quyckning heat, by the fire of lovely Cupid  
Oaten pipe contends with learned Lute of a Lording.  
Which if my Mother (who scorns that I am thus a wandering  
Here and there by the woods) can not conceive to be wondrous,  
Then she's blind herself, and not sweet lovely Cupid,  
Whom some blind fools have blind boy unworthily called.   


The first Act, and first Scene,  Daphne, Phillis. 
WHat? Will Phillis then consume her youth as an anckresse,  
Scorning dainty Venus? will Phillis still be a Modder,  
And not care to be called by the deare-sweete name of a Mother?  
Will not Phillis joy to behold herself in a Phillis,  
And her trueloves' face in a young boy's face to be shining?  
Change this mind, fond wench, and this resolution alter.  Phillis. 
Seek the delltes of love, who list, (if love be delightful)  
This life is my love, my bow and shafts be my treasure,  
Hunting is my joy; with stubborn beasts to be striving,  
Until I fell them down, and fearful beasts to be chase.  
And, till woods want beasts, and quiver feathered arrows,  
Phillis shall not want any sweet sports or pretty pastimes.  Daphne. 
Fine sweet sports indeed for a girl, and wise pretty pastimes,  
Still to be killing beasts, and still by the woods to be ranging.  
This life, toilsome life, for a while doth seem to be pleasant,  
Only because as yet thou hast not tried any other.  
So those simple souls that lived when jove was an infant,  
took for pleasant drink, and meat well worthy a man's mouth,  
Streams of purling brooks, and nutbrown kernel of accorne:  
But now, streams of brooks, and nutbrown kernel of accorne  
Are contemned as drink and meat but fit for a beasts mouth,  
Since that corn and grapes were once known how to be used.  
If thou couldst, nay wouldst (and who would not, but a fonkin?)  
Only but one time taste, and but taste only the thousandst  
Part of those pleasures and joys, which still be abounding  
In true-lovers soul, when he feels himself to be loved,  
Thou wouldst quickly repent, and quickly bewray thy repentance,  
And say thus with tears; Each loveles life is a luckless  
And accursed life: my best days vainly be ended,  
Flowering time is gone, and age creeps hastily onward.  
How-many fruitless nights, poor fool, did I waste as a Widow?  
How-many joyless days as a Nun did I draw to the euning?  
Days, to be passed away with winged boys pretty pastimes,  
Nights to be spent with toys and joys of lovely Cupid,  
Pastimes, toys, and joys, which more ioy'de breed me the more joy.  
Change this mind, fond wench, and this resolution alter.  Phillis. 
When that I seem to repent, or seem to bewray my repentance,  
Or say so with tears; let floods run back to the fountains,  
Let Wolves fly fro the Lamb, and trembling Hare to the greyhound,  
Let Bears range by the sea, and Dolphin swim by the desert.  Daphne. 
See what it is to be young; girls always use to be peevish:  
So was I in times past, (Good time il passed) when I wanted  
Age and experience, and so did I trudg to the forest.  
Golden locks, cherylips, red-white face, ivory fingers,  
Proud as a praised Peacock, and so did I trudg to the forest.  
Nets were then my delight, and bended bow my rejoicing,  
Pointed darts my joy, and slaughtered beasts my triumphing.  
If that I saw myself (myself unluckily selfwilde)  
But by a glance, one glance of a lovers eye to be noted,  
Down did I hang my head, and bow mine eyes to my bosom,  
Sore displea'sd forsooth, and, God wots, greatly abashed  
When my pleasing face to a loves look brought any pleasure,  
As though it were some fault, or shame, or mock to my ownself,  
For to be looked upon, to be loved, and sought for of others.  
But what can not time effect? What can not a lovers  
Continual wooing, long serving, daily deserving  
Bring by degrees at length, at length, to a fortunate ending?  
Phillis, I must confess, at last I began to be yielding  
Unto a loves conquest: and these arms made me be yielding,  
Long patience, kindness, sighs, tears, importunate askings.  
Then did a night, one night, one short night teach me a lesson,  
Which many thousand days would never let me be learning:  
Then did I quickly repent, and quickly bewray my repentance,  
And say thus with tears: Now farewell mighty Diana,  
Bowes and shafts I renounce, and brutish life I abandon.  
So, I do hope, one day, thy gentlemynded Amyntas  
Shall with abundant tears make thy hard heart to be tender;  
And why should not I hope, when I see just matter of hoping?  
Is not Amyntas fair? is he not loved of many Lasses?  
Doth not he love Phillis? yet Phillis love's not Amyntas:  
And yet, alas, neither thy hate, nor love of an other  
Can withdraw his love: And, if thou look to thy gentry,  
As sweet Cydippe is known to be truly thy mother,  
Cydippe daughter to the sacred God that abideth  
In this silver brook; so, father of hapless Amyntas  
Was good Sylvanus, Sylvanus son to the great Pan,  
Pan the shepherds great God, that rul's and reign's by the forest.  
And, if Phillis chance to behold her face in a fountain,  
Phillis will not seem more fair than fair Amaryllis:  
And Amaryllis fair loves gentleminded Amyntas;  
And Amaryllis love is still contemned of Amyntas,  
For that, Phillis love still rests in soul of Amyntas,  
Although Phillis alas hates her truelover Amyntas.  
Now suppose for a while (God grant it prove but a suppose)  
That Phillis sour looks drive of this love of Amyntas,  
And Amaryllis love draw on this love of Amyntas,  
And that Amyntas kiss, kiss and embrace Amaryllis,  
And laugh at Phillis: what then will Phillis imagine?  Phillis. 
Well: let Amyntas deal as seemeth best to Amyntas,  
And love somewhere else; his love hath made me to hate him.  Daphne. 
love breed hate? Sweet Sire of a most unnatural offspring  
And vile degenerate bastard: but when will a white swan  
Hatch any coal-black crow? or meek sheep foster a Tiger?  Phillis. 
Daphne leave this talk, or look no more for an answer:  
His love breeds my hate, when I hate to afford what he loveth:  
he's not a friend, but a foe, that my virgynyty seeketh:  Daphne. 
Why then, stifneckt bull is a foe, not a friend to a heifer,  
And to a Turtledove, not a friend, but a foe is a Turtle.  
Why then sweet springetyme breeds hate and works many mischifs,  
Sweetesmyling spring-time, that wills each thing to be loving,  
World and all in world; o see how sweetly the Pigeon  
There with a murmur sweet his copsemate sweet is a wooing.  
Mark that Nightingale, which hops fro the bry'r to the hawthorn,  
Hark, how bravely she sings, I do love, and love to be lovely,  
Nay even sell serpents with cursed poison abounding,  
Strong and stoordy Lions, and Tigers fierce be a loving:  
And yet Phillis alas Phillis more fierce than a Tiger,  
Worse than a wild Lioness, and more vnkyn'de than a serpent,  
Phillis lives still alone, and can not abide to be lovely.  
But strong stoordy Lions, fierce Tigers, slippery serpents  
Have sense and feeling, therefore no wonder at all, if  
Serpents, stoordy Lions, and Tigers fierce be a loving:  
O then look to the trees, and learn of them to be lovely,  
Look to the senseless trees, and mark how dearly the vinetree  
Loves her loving elm, and clipps him fast with a thousand  
Thousand embracements, and beech-tree cleaves to the beech-tree,  
And wil'de ash to the ash, and pine-tree leane's to the pine-tree.  
Yea that broadebrauncht oak which stands so stoordyly pitched,  
And seems rude and rough, not moved with a storm or a tempest,  
Yields to a kind of love; and, if thou were but a little  
Touched with love, thou mights perceive his lovely bewailings,  
And secret groanings: and wilt thou then be for all this  
Worse than a senseless tree, and never learn to be lovely?  
Change this mind, fond wench, and this resolution alter.  Phillis. 
Well: when I see trees weep, and hear their lovely bewailings  
And secret groanings, i'll frame myself to be loving.  Daphne. 
'tis but a folly I see, to be wasting wyn'de on a proud girl,  
That knows nought herself, and will not learn of another.  
Thou that makest but a jest of love, hereafter, I doubt not,  
Wilt full sore lament, and fyn'de all true that I tell thee:  
When thou shalt for shamesly back fro the watery fountains,  
Back fro the springs where now thou see'st thy face to be shining,  
For very shame and grief to behold thy beauty decayed  
And face all wrynckled: that's bad, but that's but a common  
mischief, look in time that a worse plague light not upon thee.  
I'll say nought; but I woe what news were truly reported  
By sage Elpinus last day, to the lovely Lycoris:  
And he reported afore Corydon and Alphesiboeus  
Twooe greatest masters of loves laws, and he reported  
In fair Aurora's great Cave, whose beautiful entrance  
Hath these words engraned by the hand of lovely Cupid,  
(This place is sacred, for lovers only appointed)  
There Elpinus said, and said that he heard it of old time  
Of that great pastor, (great man, whose sweetly resounding  
Pipe did pass fro the fyelds and sang of martial horrors,)  
How that in hell's deep pit, foul fyends have framed a dungeon,  
All as black as pitch, and all as dark as an oven,  
Hard by the joyless banks where smokes and fogs be arising  
From wailing Acheron: and there these no-pyty-taking  
Dames and scornful girls are all condemned to be plagued,  
All tormented there in dungeons ugly for ever.  
There fit place, fair walks for Phillis shallbe prepared:  
There shall fogs, and mists, and smokes, and palpable horror  
Wring out tears from her eyes, and force her still to be wailing,  
Whom no lovers smart, no grief could make to be weeping.  Phillis. 
Good sweet Daphne peace, and tell this again to Lycoris,  
Terrify babes with bugs: its time to be gone to the hunting  
Solemn great hunting which this same day is appointed  
In that pleasant park, that sweetest park of a thousand  
Yuychurches park, pretty Yuychurch, that on hill top  
Flowering hill top sits, and looketh down to the valleys,  
There, o there, I do hear (for so Philoveuia told me)  
There that Nymph, brave Nymph, that peerless Pembrokiana  
Yuychurches Nymph doth mean herself to be present,  
And with her own person give grace and life to the pastime.  
I'll to my wont well with Crystal water abounding,  
There will I leave this dust and sweat that I gate by my toiling  
Yesterday, when I made that lightfoot Do to be tumbling.  Daphne. 
And i'll home, for an hour or two: and then to the hunting,  
Then to the park we'll go: in mean time mark what I told thee  
More than parcks and wells, and, if symplicity blind thee,  
Know thy not knowing; so, mayst thou know of an other.   

The second Scene.  Amyntas, Thyrsis. 
Hollow caves, raged rocks, waste hills, green watery fountains  
For pity, sweetly reply, and answers make to my mourning:  
Strong oak, tall pine-tree, green laurel, beautiful Yuy  
For pity, sweetly reply, and answers make to my mourning,  
Shake their leaves for grief, and bend their bows to my groaning▪  
Only that one in whom my joys are only reposed  
Yields no lovely reply, no answer makes to my mourning,  
Phillis fair and fierce; Phillis more fierce to Amyntas  
Than strong oak, tall pine, green laurel, beautiful ivy,  
Hollow caves, raged rocks, waste hills, green watery fountains.  
When blackmantled night makes every thing to be silent,  
Every thing at rest, then wandereth restless Amyntas:  
Silver moon, bright stars, you knew these heavy bewailings,  
And for grief your course and due revolution altered:  
But she alas grieves not, take's no compassion on me,  
Whose hart-chearing face, and sweet illuminat eisight  
Silver moon, bright stars, and all your bravery stained,  
And made you for shame, your due revolution alter.  Thyrsis. 
Harmless sheep and lambs eat grass: and greedy devouring  
Wolves eat harmless sheep and lambs: but surly Cupid  
Surly Cupido feeds himself on streams of abounding  
Tears, and's never filled, and yet stands ever a feeding.  Amyntas. 
No, no, Thyrsis, alas: Love lacks no tears of Amyntas,  
Surly Cupido's full, stuftfull with tears of Amyntas,  
And thirsts now for blood, seeks blood of woeful Amyntas,  
And what he seeks, he shall have; I'll quench their thirst by my hartblood,  
Blind boys, proud girls thirst: and glut their eyes with abundant  
Streams of purpled gore of too too wretched Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
O bloody word, fowl word, o God forbidden that Amyntas  
Should or think, or work any outrage unto Amyntas.  
Cast of these fancies, leave these toys, pluck up a mans-hart:  
If bony Phillis scorn, and make but a mock of Amyntas,  
Yet shall Amyntas find as brave gyrls as bony Phillis.  Amyntas. 
Find brave gyrls? o grief: if Amyntas find not Amyntas,  
How can he find others? o how shall he find bony Lasses,  
If that he lose himself? o how shall I seek any other,  
Since my settled soul and heart are like to an aged  
And well grounded tree, which now is come to the full groat,  
And will rather break, than bend, or yield to be turned.  
Hate augments my love; her frowns give fire to my fancy,  
As gentle spaniel, whom beating makes to be loving.  Thyrsis. 
Fear in a fearful man frets more than plagues that he feareth:  
Hope, and have, in time any man may gain any woman.  
Long time mighty Lions at length hath brought to the bridle,  
And wildest Tigers at length are tamed in a long tyme.  Amyntas. 
Yea, but alas long time's too long for wretched Amyntas:  
Death must speedily speed, no wretch can abide any long tyme.  Thyrsis. 
Stay but a while, no doubt these things will mend in a short time:  
Thou know'st that women by kind are mutable ever,  
Soon hot, and soon cold, like and mislike in a moment,  
Change as a weathereock, and all as light as a feather.  
But let Thyrsis now know more at large of Amyntas  
His distressed state; for though thou toldst me a great while  
Since, that Love gave first occasion unto thy torments,  
And that proud Phillis gave fresh increase to thy sorrows,  
Yet whence this love sprang, who was that Phillis I knew not.  
And sith soemany years w'have lived so friendly together,  
And applied ourselus to the lores of learned Apollo,  
there's cause why Thyrsis should know those things of Amyntas,  
Which his Amyntas knows, and will show only to Thyrsis.  Amyntas. 
Know o Thyrsis then, know this mine infinite anguish,  
Which these hills well know, which these sweet watery wells know,  
And yet no man knows: my fatal hour is approaching,  
My death draws so near, that now its time to provide some  
Time to provide some friend, which may and willbe reporter  
Of death and death's cause, which will for a friendly remembrance  
Death and cause of death engrave in bark of a beech tree,  
Hard by the damned place, where corpse of murdered Amyntas  
Bloodless corpse shall lie, that when that brave bony damsel  
That pytiles Phillis shall chance that way to be passing,  
Her proud foot, and yet sweet foot may joy to be treading  
Treading and trampling these baleful bones of Amyntas.  
And that serpent's tongue, thus take a delight to be vaunting,  
This death is my triumph, these bruised bones my trophaeum;  
That such strange travelers as this way chance to be wandering,  
And foreign Pastors that pass by the grave of Amyntas,  
May know this conquest, and make it known to the country.  
And perchance (o Noah, that's too too good for Amyntas)  
Yet perchance one day may once come, when bony Phillis  
When bony sweet Phillis, now moved with a lovely repentance,  
Lovely remorse, may take some small compassion on me,  
And, when 'tis too-late, lament this loss of Amyntas,  
Shedding some sweet tears for death of murdered Amyntas,  
His death; whom when he lived, herself did cause to be dying;  
Saying, O that he were, that he were not a murdered Amyntas,  
O that he lived now, and were my lover Amyntas.  
But now hark and mark of cares and woe the beginning.  Thyrsis. 
Say on then, for I hark and mark perchance to a better  
End, than thou thyself canst yet conceive or imagine.  Amyntas. 
When that I was but a wag, young wag, so young, that I could scarce  
Reach mine outstretched arm to the bending bows of a plum-tree;  
'Twas my luck (ill luck) t'acquaint myself with a brave girl,  
Bravest girl that spreads her golden locks to the tender  
Wind, fair Phillis I mean, but alas what meant I to mean her?  
Phillis a flame to the soul, and Phillis a flower to the forest,  
Phillis a Townish gyrls disgrace, and grace to the country,  
Phillis a fame to the Park, and Phillis a shame to the Palace,  
Phillis that first made Cydippe for to be mother,  
Phillis that first made that rich Montanus a father:  
With that Phillis I was (most woeful was, when I am not)  
With that Phillis I lived (o luckless lived, when I live not)  
Phillis a turtle dove, and faithful turtle Amyntas:  
Both our bowers were nigh, which made us both to be neighbours,  
Both our minds more nigh, which caused us both to be fryendly:  
Both our ages like, which first was cause of a liking,  
Both our lives more like, which still gave fire to a fancy.  
If that Amyntas were disposed for to be fishing,  
Phillis a fishing went: if Amyntas meant to be fowling,  
Phillis a fowling went: if Phillis longed for a filbert,  
Younker Amyntas clymbde: if Phillis would be a hunting,  
Who but Amyntas then, but greene-coate Huntsman Amyntas?  
Either's sport was like, and either's portion equal.  
But when Amyntas thus bestowed himself on his angling,  
Other baits and hooks took secret hold of Amyntas:  
Whilst that Amyntas thus laid traps and snares for a redbreast,  
White-brest laid new snares and hidden traps for Amyntas:  
Whilst that Amyntas I say ran pricking after a Pricket,  
far more poisoned darts have pricked hartroote of Amyntas.  
For, by degrees there grew (as an herb that grows of her own self)  
In my breast there grew, but I witted not whence, a desiring  
Still to be with Phillis, poor fool, and still to be gazing  
On those burning lamps, whence still still I sucked a sweetness,  
Strange kind of sweetness which ended still with a sourness.  
Oftentimes did I sigh, yet knew no cause of a sighing,  
And was a lover afore that I knew what 'twas to be loving:  
But now Thyrsis, I know, and mark, I'll tell thee the manner.  Thyrsis. 
Say on Amyntas then; this matter's worthy the marking.  Amyntas. 
Once on a day (o day, o dismallst day of a thousand)  
Once on a summers day (o summer worse than a winter)  
Under a beech (o beech of Amyntas woe the beginning)  
Phillis sat her down, and down sat Cassiopoea,  
And I between them both: when a Bee that gathered honey  
Here and there fro the flowers, conueys herself in a moment  
Unto the red-rose cheek of smiling Cassiopoea,  
And there bites and bites fair cheek of Cassiopoea,  
Thinking sure, (as I think) her red-rose cheeks to be roses.  
Bee bites, biting smarts, and smarting Cassiopoea  
Wringeth her hands and cries: But, peace, qd my bony Phillis,  
Cassiopoea, be still, cry not sweet Cassiopoea:  
I'll with a word or two soon cause thy pain to be ceasing,  
I'll soon charm thy cheek; this secret lately I learned  
Of beldame Sagane, for an ivory comb that I gave her.  
Then sh'applyes her lips (life-geeving lips to a Lover,  
And yet alas, yet alas life-taking lips from a Lover)  
Unto the smarting cheek of whining Cassiopoea,  
And with a sweet sweet sound her spells she gins to be mumbling:  
By and by (strange thing) her pain was passed in a moment,  
Whether charming words did work so mighty a wonder,  
Or that Phillis mouth (which rather may be believed)  
Heals where it toucheth by some great grace of Apollo.  
Then then, whereas afore I desired but to be seeing  
Hart-inflaming eyes, I desired but to be hearing  
Soul-inuading voice, sweet voice, and like to the purling  
Streams of a silver brook that creeps with a lovely resounding  
Murmur among small stones, or like to the dayntyly warbling  
Noise of a gentle wind, that makes green leaves to be trembling,  
Then then alas did I long and look and wish to be joining  
This my mournful mouth to the mouth of my bony Phillis:  
And in fine I devised (Love finds out wily devices)  
How t' obtain my desire: for I feigned, that a wasp fro the bushes  
Flew to my face in a rage, and poor lips all to be stinged;  
And my doleful looks did look and crave to be charmed,  
Though my tongue was afraid, and made no suit to the charmer,  
Then simple Phillis, who took my tale for a Gospel,  
Came of her own accord and joined her lips to my sore-lipp,  
Sore-sick lip God knows: But alas, whilst Phillis a feigned  
Wound with sweet lips healed, her sweet lips gave me a true-wound,  
Gave me a mortal wound that ran fro the lips to the liver,  
Nay, immortal wound that pierced fro the mouth to the marrow.  
No busy Bee can suck more sweet and sugared honey  
From sweet-smelling flowers, than was distilled fro the roses  
Of chery-lipt Phillis by the boiling breath of Amyntas;  
Although bashful fear was somewhat a curb to my kisses,  
And restrained my joys: which made me the more to desire that  
Poisoned bitter-sweet, and feign yet again that I smarted,  
That with Phillis lips my lips might freshly be charmed:  
And so charmed I was, so stinged, so deadly bewitched,  
So sore enchanted with spill-soule spells, that I must needs  
Either break my heart, or break my love to my Phillis:  
This breaking of love was a loves-breake; better it had been  
Harts-breake or necks-breake to the sore hart-wounded Amyntas.  
Once on a time when Nymphs and Pastors chanced to be sporting.  
Standing all in a round, and each one whispered a secret  
Into an others ear, poor fool I began to be buzzing,  
Phillis, I burn with love, o take compassion on me,  
Help or I die Phillis: But Phillis strait with a lowering  
Look and frowning face, and downcast eyes to the ground-ward,  
Blushed for spite and shame, and gave not a word for an answer,  
But coweyd her away, and flew fro the place in a fury.  
From that time, no time would Phillis abide with Amyntas,  
Lend no eyes to the tears, no ears to the plaints of Amyntas.  
And now flaxen wheat his ripened stalk to the sickle  
Hath threetimes yielded, now cheerful spring, to the forest  
Flowering bows hath brought threetimes, and flowers to the meadow,  
And each thing but death long since was tried by Amyntas  
For t'appease Phillis; my death now only remaineth  
For t'appease Phillis: which death should soon be procured,  
So that I were once sure that I should by my deadly departure  
Wring any tears from her eyes, or bring any joy to her hard heart,  
Make her weep or laugh; and whether should I be wishing?  
Indeed Phillis tears and mind with mercy relenting  
Were far better amends for death of murdered Amyntas,  
And more friendly reward for luckless love of Amyntas,  
But that I may not wish sweet Phillis mind to be grieved,  
Nor Phillis fair face and eyes with tears to be blubbered.  Thyrsis. 
And what man, madman, can think it possible, if that  
Once she do hear these plaints, but that she'll yield to be loving?  Amyntas. 
O good Thyrsis, I doubt, for I never gi'en to be speaking,  
But she recoils fro my words, as subtle snake fro the charmer.  Thyrsis. 
Doubt not, I hope ere long, I'll cause her friendly to hear thee.  Amyntas. 
If thou get that I speak, than nought shall I get by my speaking.  
Mopsus alas Mopsus foretold me my destiny long-since,  
Soothsayer Mopsus that knows what mystery secret  
And hidden virtues in stones and herbs be abiding,  
And by the flight and chirp of birds can tell many wonders.  Thyrsis. 
What? that cozening squire, that broke and sells to the old wives  
Pelting pills in a box, and so scrapes coin fro the country?  
Hope yet Amyntas a while; for I know there's matter of hoping:  
Only because Mopsus says there's no matter of hoping:  
Hope, and meet me again in this same place: for I doubt not  
But that in one half hour, I'll bring good news to Amyntas.  Chorus. 
O Sweet age of gold, not sweet, for that by the pastures  
Every brook and bush with milk and honey abounded;  
Nor that fertile ground untilled, untutcht was afording  
Fresh increase of fruit to the poorman's daily rejoicing;  
Nor that stingles snakes and harmless slippery serpents  
slided abroad by the fields and never breathed any poison;  
Nor that clowdles skies seemed evermore to be smile,  
And aeternal Spring her spring-time daily renewing;  
Nor that no pine-trees as yet cut down fro the mountains  
Ranged abroad by the rocks with salt waves all to be dashed:  
But sweet age of gold, for that this name of a noething,  
Idle name of nought, and daily deceivable Idol,  
Which fools afterward, fine-fooles have made to be Honour,  
Was nor named, nor known, nor brought new laws to the country  
And poor countrymen, whose lives were only directed  
By sweet Nature's law, sweet Nature taught them a lesson,  
If you will, you may: and straitlaced rules did abandon.  
Then by the greene-mantled pastures and watery fountains  
Loves young wanton wags were always wont to be singing,  
And had no light lamps, and had no dangerous arrows.  
Then brave jolly Shepherds and Nymphs sat sweetly together,  
Tempering words with smiles; and every smile with a kissing.  
Nymphs were not so nice, but that they yielded a full view  
Of their bared breasts to the searching eyes of a lover.  
Girls were not so coy, but that they would with a younker  
Friendly together wash, and bathe themselves in a river.  
Honour first covered wellspring of lovely Cupid,  
Honour plucked water from scorched mouth of a Lover,  
Honour taught fair eyes their glittering beams to be hiding,  
And to the darkened soul their light unkindly denying.  
Honour caught in nets those golden locks, that in old time  
Were left lose to the wind dispersed along by the shoulders.  
Honour marred our mirth, and lovelayes turned to a silence,  
And all our pastimes to a solemn gravity changed.  
Honour taught us first our mouths by art to be moving,  
Looks by a looking glass, and gate with skill to be framing.  
Honour called it a theft, which first was counted a free gift,  
Honour made it a crime, which first was thought but a pastime.  
But thou supreme Lord of Love, thou only Monarcha,  
Which rul'st mighty Monarches, what dost thou here in a corner,  
For so great a Godhead o too too simple a corner?  
Go to a proud Diadem, to a golden crown, to a sceptre,  
Break those great men's sleep; so shall thy fame be the greater:  
Disgrace not thy-self with poor contemptible abjects,  
But let Countrey-fooles live as they used to be living,  
Let them live in love, whilst they have time to be loving.  
Sun sets, and riseth; goes down, and quickly reviveth,  
But man's light once out, aeternal darkness abideth:  
Then let Countrey-fooles live as they used to be living,  
Let them live in love, whilst they have time to be loving.    


The second Act, and first Scene.  The Satire alone. 
THis same foolish Bees but a Bee, and Bees but a small thing,  
Yet this buzzing Bee with a small mouth maketh a great wound:  
But what's less than Love, that lurketh in every corner,  
Every small small nook; and hides himself as a false-thiefe  
Sometimes under an hair, and sometimes under an ey-lidd?  
Yet this lest least Love, when he smiteth, maketh a great-wound,  
Great great mortal wound, great cureless wound in a lover.  
My flesh's nought but a mark all overprickt with her arrows,  
My body nought but a wound, my bowels nought but a bleeding.  
O Love, nay not Love, that love unlovely requiteth,  
Love was as ill called Love, as this proud paltry Phillis  
Was well called Phillis; (disdainful Phillis an ill is,  
Ill to her owneself first, and always ill to an other:)  
As this Mountaine-byrd, Montanus daughter I should say,  
‛ Was well called Phillis; since hill-borne Phillis a hill is:  
Wild waste hills and woods and mountains serve for a harbour  
Unto the ravenous brood of wolves, bears, slippery serpents;  
And hillish Phillis makes her fair breast, as a lodging  
For fowl pride, fell spite, and most implacable anger,  
Worse beasts, far more worse, than wolves, bears, slippery serpents,  
These with a pray are pleased, but she's not moved with a prayer.  
If that I fetch her flowers, fresh fragrant flowers fro the forest,  
My fresh fragrant flowers, o spite, with a scorn she rejecteth,  
For cause her fair cheeks with fairer flowers be adorned.  
If that I bring in a dish queene-apples unto my dear Queen,  
Dish and queene-apples, o grief, with a mock she renounceth,  
For cause her bosom with fruit far sweeter aboundeth.  
If that I range by the woods and fyelds, and gather her honey,  
Honn' and honnyes comb, o death, with a flout she refuseth,  
For cause her sweet mouth more sugared honey afordeth,  
O then Phillis, alas, if my poor state can afford thee  
nought, but what thyself mayst have more lovely within thee,  
Take myself for a guyft, i'll give myself to my Phillis,  
And why should Phillis disdain this gift that I give her?  
My face is not fowl, my looks are not to be loathed,  
Yesterday I beheld myself when I walked by the seashore,  
When seas were calmed, when winds their rage had omitted  
My sanguine countenance with moisture lively replenished,  
Bristled breast, braund arms, and shoulders stoordyly squared  
Are all signs of strength, and marks of manliness only,  
And if Phillis doubt, let Phillis try what is in me.  
What should Phillis do with a curldpate paltry cockney?  
What with a smooth-faced fool, with a carpet squire, with a mylksop?  
What with a piping goose, with a whistling boy, with a minstrel?  
Girls indeed, and girls in show, effoeminat each way?  
If perchance Phillis, (this chance may easily happen)  
Should encounter a Wolf, or a fell she Bear, or a wild Boar,  
Then farewell minions, than bristled breasts be the best men.  
O but alas, Phillis doth know right well, that I want not  
Man's face or man's heart; but gold and silver I have not,  
Gold and silver I want, and this makes Phillis abhor me  
Country learns of town to be bought, and every Malkin  
Looks for a purse of silk, or a ring, no less than a Lady.  
Here is an age of gold indeed, gold only triumpheth,  
Gold rul's and o'er ruls from a milkmaid unto an Empress.  
Thou, thou wicked wight that first taughtst maids to be Merchants,  
‛ And mad'st girls sell love; o let thy grave be a dungeon  
For foul spirits and snakes; o let thy damnable ashes  
Feel both wind and rain, and bones lie all to be scattered  
Here and there by the fyelds, bones bruised of every footman,  
Trodden of every beast, accursed of all the beholders,  
This wretch, noble love did abase, when he made it a hireling,  
Made it a slave of gold, and made it a monsterus Hydra,  
Monster of all monsters that land or water afordeth.  
But what mean I to curse in vain? since every creature  
Useth such weapons, as nature gave, to defend him?  
Claws to the greedy Lions, and foaming tusk to the wild Boar,  
Winged eggs to a heart, and pleasing face to a woman,  
Why doel not then deal according unto my nature?  
Why do I not show force, since nature fram'es me to forcing?  
I'll take by violence and rape those joys fro the proud girl  
Which are due to my love, and Phillis stoutly denieth.  
When she gins herself in wonted well to be washing,  
(Silent showed me the well, fair well, well worthy a fair lass)  
I'll rush out from a bush (where first i'll lie as in ambush)  
And take her napping, when I see occasion offered.  
If that I once can roll my hand in her hair, let her hardly  
Scratch and bite and whine, she'll never scape fro my clutches,  
Till, for a worthy revenge, her blood, my blade be a bathing.   

The second Scene.  Daphne. Thyrsis. 
Thyrsis, I know too well, that tender-mynded Amyntas  
Hath long loved this girl; and long may love her, I fear me.  
And, as I told thee before, my helping hand did I always,  
And will now much more for thy sake, lend to Amyntas.  
But more soon may one make gentle a Bear or a Tiger,  
And tame young wild Bulls, then learn young gyrls any reason,  
Gyrls as fond as fair: whose rude symplycyty knows not,  
How their eye-arrowes can pierce men's hearts in a moment.  Thyrsis. 
Simple? I never yet could see so simple a woman,  
But was most expert, though but new crept fro the cradle,  
In these cosn'ing tricks; and knew her face to be framing,  
Now with a smile t'allure, and now to repel with a frowning.  Daphne. 
What skilful Mistress taught them this mystery, Thyrsis?  Thrsis. 
As though thou knewst not: that Mistress, which did in old time  
Take young birds fro the nest, and taught them for to be flying,  
Bull to rebut with a horn, and scaled fish to be swimming,  
And proudhart Peacock her painted train to be spreading.  Daphne. 
What's her name? Thy. Daphne. Dap. Fie, that's impossible. Thy. And why?  
Is not dame Daphne trow you, to be deemed a Mistress  
Sufficient t'enstruct ten thousand such bony lasses?  
Though in truth they want no skill, nor need any mistress,  
Coy by kind, and proud by birth, and surly by nature.  
Yet nurse and mother contend this folly to further,  
And so make in time young cockerel like to the old crow.  Daphne. 
Well crowed, gentle Cock: your song may chance be requited:  
But to the matter in hand, in truth, in truth I remember  
One odd toy, Thyrsis, that makes me scarcely resolved,  
Whether Phillis fain and make but a show of a simplesse,  
Or for a truth doth mean as in outward show she pretendeth.  
For, last day when I went to the green field near to the cytty,  
Phillis sat her down by the brook that runs by the green field,  
And so her countenance composed, as though she required  
Counsel from that brook, and would, b'aduisd by the water,  
How to be disposing, and how to be dayntyly ordering  
Gold wyr'de hair on her head, and how with skill to be setting  
Call on gold wyr'de hair, and how at last to be sticking  
Flowers in a golden call, (her lap with flowers was abounding)  
And now takes up a Rose, and strait way takes up a lily:  
And compares her cheeks to the Rose, and neck to the Lily:  
And then smiles for joy, seeing her lowly triumphant  
Cheeks more red than a Rose, and neck more white than a Lily,  
And disdaigns poor flowers, and thus seems them to be scorning,  
Foolish paltry herbs, your pied coat's nought to my countenance,  
Your flowers nought to my face, your bravery nought to my beauty,  
Foolish paltry weeds, I do bear you often about me,  
For your own disgrace, and not for a grace to my person,  
That your fading flowers may serve as a foil for a Phillis.  
As she was all this while pruning herself by the water,  
Princking and pranking, at last by chance she reflected  
Her bright beams sydeward, and then saw well, that I saw her,  
And was ashamed and blushed, and let fair Lily be falling.  
More that Daphne laughed, more Phillis still was a blushing,  
More that Phillis blushed, more Daphne still was a laughing.  
Buy yet, her hair half trest, half untrest well she remembered,  
And with a stealing eye to the waterglasse she repaired,  
Spying whether I spied; and see's herself to be undressed,  
And yet likes herself, seeing herself to be seemly  
Though undressed, for I saw, yet would not seem to be seeing.  Thyrsis. 
Peace, peace, good Daphne: this no news, come to Amyntas.  Daphne. 
No news? yes mary ist: for no such matter in old time  
Ever afore was seen: When Daphne was but a Damsel  
Dapne was not so: but world now waxeth an old world,  
Grows to be wayward now, and peevish like to an old man.  Thyrsis. 
In those days, Townebyrds flew not so fast to the country,  
Nor country lasles did gad so much to the Cytty.  
Now all's confounded, now fashions all to be mingled  
All to be mangled quite, and every Madge is a Mistress,  
All's turned upside down. But may not, may not Amyntas,  
And bonnilass Phillis yet talk once fryendly together  
By Daphne's good means, and condescend to a parley?  Daphne. 
Thyrsis, I am not sure; she's too too flatly denying.  Thyrsis. 
And he, alas, poorefoole, is too too fond desiring.  Daphne. 
Then let him ask, entreat, importune, nay let him offer,  
Yea offer violence, and take no nay; for a woman  
loves to be wooed of a man: thou knowst well, Thyrsis, a woman  
Runs, and yet so runs, as though she desired to be o'errun;  
Says, Noah, Noah; yet so, as no, Noah, seems to be no Noah;  
strives, and yet so strives as though she desired to be vanquished.  
Woeman's like to a shade, that flies, yet lies by the subject,  
Like to a Bee, that never strives, if sting be removed.  
Thou seest, Thyrsis, I talk as a plain wench unto a plain friend.  Thyrsis. 
Then good plain Daphne, it's more than time to be plain now,  
Help me to help our friend poor helpless fryendles Amyntas.  Daphne. 
Well to be plain indeed, and end this matter in one word,  
Phillis goes with me now by and by to the brave well,  
Mighty Diana's well, where largearmed ash to the hunting  
Nymphs gives cooling shade; there Phillis shallbe presented  
Naked, starcknaked to the open view of Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
And what then? Daph. What then? then I think thus much to a wiseman  
Will seem sufficient, and is too much for a fonkyn.  Thrysis. 
Now I do know thy mind: but I doubt least fearful Amyntas  
Have not so much heart, as boldly to offer an onset.  Daphne. 
Then let Amyntas stay, till an other seek to prevent him.  Thyrsis. 
If that he were so served, he deserved well so to be served.  Daphne. 
But to thyself Thyrsis, wilt still be a boy or a bachelor?  
Were't not far better to be husband or to be lover?  Thyrsis. 
When that Thyrsis see's, that loves not a plague to a lover,  
Then shall Daphne see, that Thyrsis willbe a lover.  
But whilst hateful love with tears and fears is abounding,  
Love who will for me: let another learn to be mourning,  
Thyrsis enough hath mourned. Daph. But he hath not joyed enough yet.  Thyrsis. 
No such joys I desire. Daph. But love can force the resister.  Thyrsis. 
No force; i'll keep back. Daph. And then love hasteneth onward.  Thyrsis. 
I'll run. Daph. Love hath wings. Thyrs. But short wings in the beginning.  Daphne. 
lovers feel not love, when love is first a beginning,  
And when love's once felt, it's too late then to be running.  Thyrsis. 
But let my love rest, till again we chance to be meeting,  
And let Amyntas now, for he most needs, first be relieved.  
I'll seek him strait way▪ and bring, if I can, the retiring  
Bear to the stake. Daph. I'll go, but this was far fro my meaning.  Thyrsis. 
And, if I guess not amiss, lo yonder he comes, with a downcast  
Look, and wandering pace, pace and look fit for Amyntas.   

The third Scene.  Amyntas, Thyrsis. 
THyrsis gave good words: I'll see what's done for Amyntas;  
And, if no thing's done, then afore that I seem to be undone,  
Myself-murdring hand shall reave this breath from Amyntas  
Even in Phillis sight, that like as now she delighteth  
Herself with this wound, loves wound, that cleaves to my heart root,  
Wound of her own fair eyes: so may she be freshly triumphing  
At this gaping wound with purpled gore that aboundeth  
Wound of mine own hands, last wound of murdered Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
Leave of thy mourning: Thyrsis brings news to Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
What news? life, or death?  Thyr. 
Life, love, bliss, joy to Amyntas,  
If that Amyntas dare joy, bliss, love, life be a meeting.  
But then he must be a man, not a mome, man fully resolved,  
And not shrynck with a shower, as a faint heart fool or a dastard.  Amyntas. 
And what great cowrrage, or what resolution is this?  Thyrsis. 
If that thy Phillis should wander alone in a desert,  
Desert walled about with rocks of monsterus hugeness,  
Where sharpe-tusked Boars, and Tigers only resorted,  
Wouldst thou go to thy love by this so fearful a passage?  Amyntas. 
Yea, with a better will, than girls or boys to the stooleball.  Thyrsis. 
If thy Phillis were with a thievish company compassed,  
And saw nought but swords and glistering armour about her,  
Wouldst thou go to thy love through this same company thievish?  Amyntas. 
Yea, with a greater joy, than thirsting Hart to the fountain,  Thyrsis. 
Yet for such exploit, more courage willbe required.  Amyntas. 
I'll with a good will go through scorching flames of a furnace,  
I'll through swelling streams increased with snow fro the mountains,  
I'll through damnable hell, through loathsome Styx, to my Phillis,  
If that can be a hell where heu'ns-ioy Phillis abideth:  
But say, show me all.  Thyr. 
Hark then.  Amynt. 
Tell speedily, Thyrsis,  Thyrsis. 
Thy love sits by a well, sits naked, alone, by a wellspring.  
Phillis sits by a well, and stays for gentle Amyntas,  
Darest thou go to thy love, and wilt thou go to thy Phillis?  Amyntas. 
What? doth my dear life, doth my love sit by a wellspring?  
What? doth Phillis alone and naked stay for Amyntas?  Thyrsis. 
None else but Daphne; and Daphne works for Amyntas,  
Otherwise she alone, and naked stays for Amyntas,  
Naked, but. Amynt. But what? this vile, But, murdereth Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
But Phillis knows not that Amyntas comes to the wellspring.  Amyntas. 
O wellspring of woe; this cold conclusion endeth  
All my hope conceived, and draws confusion onward;  
O pytyles Thyrsis, was sowl-tormented Amyntas  
Not yet plagued enough, but thou must heap on a new plague?  Thyrsis. 
If thou mean to be ru'ld, thou mayst be a happy Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
How ru'ld? Thyr. Take that good, which opportunyty offereth.  Amyntas. 
God forbidden, that I take such opportunyty offered  
As t'attempt any thing displeasing unto my Phyills.  
Yet did I never thing offensive unto my Phillis,  
But that I loved her alas, yet alas she'enforced me to love her,  
That fault's hers, not mine, and beauty to blame, not Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
If thou couldst leave love, wouldst thou leave of to be loving,  
That by not loving, thou mightst please thy bony Phillis?  Amyntas. 
That, will I never say Thyrsis, nor never imagine,  
Love will not consent, that I ever leave to be loving.  Thyrsis. 
Thou wilt love her then, though in despite of her own heart.  Amyntas. 
In despite? o Noah, yet needs needs must I be loving.  Thyrsis. 
What then? against her will. Amynt. love wills so, if she be wilful.  Thyrsis. 
Take then against her will that, which though in the beginning  
Seems to be painful a while, yet proves to be joyful in ending.  Amyntas. 
Thy long experience, o Thyrsis, makes the be talking,  
Makes the be discoursing of love: but freshman Amyntas  
Is possessed with love, and love must frame him an answer,  
Love, that clogs harttyed and tongtyed lover Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
Why then, wilt not go? Amy. Yes. Thyr. Whether? Amy. Strait to my long home,  
If no help, but this, can bring any joy to Amyntas.  Thyrsis. 
And is this nothing? would Daphne send for Amyntas,  
Unless that Phillis seemed in some part to be willing?  
And perchance Phillis doth know herself, that Amyntas  
Comes to the well indeed, but will not seem to be knowing.  
Now if thou wouldst have her full consent to be uttered,  
And mind expressed, which every woman abhorreth,  
Where is then thy desire, thy Phillis still to be pleasing?  
And if Phillis will, that Amyntas joy, be Amyntas  
Theft, not Phillis guyfte; what further seeketh Amyntas?  Amyntas. 
O but alas who knows, that Phillis liketh Amyntas?  Thyrsis. 
And who knows for truth, that Phillis lyks not Amyntas?  
And in an equal doubt, that part is best to be taken,  
Which to the party's mind is most conformable always;  
Therefore come. Amy. Stay yet. Thyr. For what? time passeth Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
O stay good Thyrsis, let's here consult for a while yet.  Thyrsis. 
we'll consult by the way of things that seem to be needful.  
Who so thinks many things▪ brings seaw to a fortunate ending.  Chorus. 
O Heart-ennobling great love, where shall we be learning  
These thy sacred laws? in what school must we be trained  
Up to thy high conceits? or what so skilful a master  
Possibly may unfold those supreme thoughts of a lover  
Which his soul possess, whilst with thy wings in a moment  
His mind mounts to the skies, and Christall-mantled Olympus?  
Neither learned Athens, nor great fame-worthy Lycoeus.  
Can loves force express, or loves perfection utter;  
Neither Castalian Muses, nor great-God Apollo,  
Nor rymewright singers could once aspire to the thousandst  
Part of those joys, which in a lovers breast be abounding:  
Their voice is not a voice of fire, they sing but a cold song,  
Song and voice unfit for loves unspeakable ardour:  
So then loves own voice is a fittest voice for a loves-lay,  
So then Love himself is best expressed by his owneself.  
Love learns rural wits, and base-born breasts to be reading  
Hart-burning secrets and wonders, daintily written  
In faire-flaming eyes, by the hand of lovely Cupid.  
Love (o strange eloquence of Love) with a sigh, with an half-speach,  
Interrupted speech, confused speech of a Lover,  
Sooner a tigers heart to a true compassion urgeth,  
Better a secret smart and inward passion uttreth,  
Than trope-turned tale, or rhyming ditty, derived  
From foolhardy Poets, or vaine-head Rhetoricasters.  
Nay, those silent looks, and lovely regards of a Lover  
More, than a thousand words, express those pangs of a Lover.  
Let those famous Clerks with an endless toil be perusing  
Socratical writings; two fair eyes teach me my lesson:  
And what I read in those, I do write in a bark of a beech-tree,  
Beech-tree better book, than a thousand Dainty devices.    


The third Act, and first Scene.  Thyrsis, Chorus. 
O Extreme disdaigne, o most unmerciful hard-hart,  
O unthankful girl, o proud, and no-pity-taking  
Women, cursed by kind, unkind kind, kin to a Tiger,  
Kin to a poisoned snake. O dame, nay rather a stepdame,  
Bungling artificer Nature, which framed a woman's  
external countenance, and outward parts to be cheerful,  
But th'internal soul, and inward part to be spiteful.  
O perchance, poor wretch, himself hath murdered his ownself.  
Every place do I seek and search out every corner,  
Every bush, each cave, each bank, and every fountain  
All these three hours long, by the well where lately I left him;  
Yet no sight can I get,, no hearing, no not a footestepp  
Wherein he trod of late, not a footestepp yet can I light on:  
Sure he's killed, he's dead, himself hath murdered his owneself.  
I'll ask these Pastors, if they can show any tidings:  
Good friends, have you seen, do ye know any news of Amyntas?  Chorus. 
Some bad misfortune thy mind seems greatly to trouble:  
What mean's this sweeting and blowing? Fearest any mischif?  Thyrsis. 
Mischif I fear indeed of Amyntas: show me Amyntas.  Chorus. 
Nobody here saw him, since you two lately departed.  
But what mischif fearest? Thyrs. That Amyntas murder Amyntas.  Chorus. 
Murder Amyntas. Why? What works so desperate outrage?  Thyrsis. 
Hate and Love. Chor. Two foes, th'one th'other deadly maligning▪  
Either sufficient, but both more mighty to murder:  
Yet make this more plain. Thyrs. To be too too heartily loving,  
And of a loved Lass to be too too spytefuly hated.  Chorus. 
But show all at large: this place is an ordinary thoroughfare:  
Here some man may pass that may bring news of Amyntas,  
And some wind himself may hither chance to be driving.  Thyrsis. 
I'll show all indeed, for I should unjustly be dealing,  
If that I blaze not abroad so shameful a fact to the whole world.  
Wretched Amyntas knew, and knew by my only relating,  
(Now I repent too late, that I was so fond a relator)  
That Daphn ' and Phillis would wash themselves in a wellspring:  
Thither Amyntas went, but went very faintily thither,  
All unwilling went, and backwards oft he retired,  
But that I still still drove him most unluckily forward.  
Forward thus we went, and now came near to Diana's  
Well, when alas we heard some doleful sound of a damsel,  
That still cried, Alas; and saw how woefuly Daphne  
Wringed her hands and wept, and seeing us to be coming,  
Lifted her hands and voice; O run run quickly to Phillis,  
Phillis alas is forced, o run run quickly to Phillis.  
Lover Amyntas leapt, as a Rowe-buck pricked with an arrow,  
At these words, and flew, and quickly I hastened after:  
When we came, we saw fair Phillis bound to a willow,  
Naked, starknaked, bound head hand foot to a willow.  
Her locks served for a cord, her gold-locks leapt in a thousand  
knots, (no true-love's knots) were all tied fast to the willow:  
Her brave Belt, which first that pure virginity guarded,  
Bound both hands to to the trunk, and this fowl villainy furthred:  
And winding willow, unwilling foe to be winding,  
(And yet glad those legs with tender twigs to be tutching)  
Lends her slips to be strings (each thing can further a mischif)  
Strings those trembling legs (o rueful case) to be binding.  
And that beastly Satire, which caused this monsterus outrage,  
Stood with lusting rage, and raging fury before her,  
And now, even just now had left of fully to bind her.  
Phillis strove as much as Phillis might be a striving,  
But for a naked girl with an armed foe to be striving,  
Bootless it had been sure, if sharpened dart of Amyntas  
'Gainst that fleshly Satire had not been timely directed:  
And I myself mean while my lap with stones was a filling,  
Which made lusting beast at last for fear to be flying.  
When this flight gave leave to the loving eyes of Amyntas  
For to behold his joys, those limbs so daintily trembling,  
Trembling yet for fear; at last, at last he approached  
Unto the naked Nymph, and yet yet somewhat abashed:  
Pardon, fair Phillis, qd Amyntas, pardon I pray thee  
This my too bold hand, which too too rashly presumeth,  
And to thy spotless limbs, limbs never touched yet, approacheth,  
Sith so extreme need, so great a necessity forceth  
Forceth Amyntas his hands fair Phillis her hands to be losing▪  
Let not then this grace which fortune seems to afford them,  
Seem any fowl disgrace, or work any woo to my Phillis.  Chorus. 
Words well worthy to make any heart of flint to be tender:  
But what said Phillis? Thyrs. Not a word; but scornfuly blushing  
Looks down, hiding all that bands would have to be hidden.  
Gentle Amyntas comes, and golden locks he releaseth,  
And as he unknits knots, thus golden-locks he beespeaketh,  
Golden locks too good this senseless tree to be chaining,  
What shall Lovers have, wherein they may be triumphing,  
If loves-lace can abide to be stretched from a Nymph to a willow?  
Paltry willow breaks with rude and boysterus handling,  
Golden chain, which gave such grace to the paltry willow.  
Then those hard-held hands in such odd manner he loosed,  
As that he wished and feared hart-holding hands to be handling.  
Lastly, to free her feet, himself he gins to be kneeling:  
But when Phillis her hands from bands felt fully released,  
His loving service with these proud words she refused,  
Touch me not, hence Pastor, mine own hands shall be my own legs  
Freedom, touch not a Nymph, that's consecrat unto Diana.  Chorus. 
O graceless guerdon for service dutiful offered,  
How can a Nymphs sweet breast harbour so filthy a monster?  Thyrsis. 
Gentle Amyntas strait with these words mildly retired,  
And withdrew himself, not daring once to be lifting  
Up those lovesick eyes, himself unkindly denying  
joys to his own poor self, that he might ease his bony Phillis  
Of that pain, small pain, of giving him the denial.  
All this I heard and saw, whilst under an oak I did hide me,  
All this I heard and saw, and once I began to be speaking  
For very grief; yet I stayed: But mark yet, mark yet a wonder.  
After long toiling her feet at last she released,  
And scarce, scarce her feet from bands at last she released,  
But those winged feet she bestyrs as fast as a young Hind,  
And to Amyntas gives no not so much as a farewell:  
Yet no cause of flight, for Amyntas made not an offer.  Chorus. 
What did he then poor man, when Phillis left him alone thus?  Thyrsis. 
That can I noeway guess; for I was so mad to behold this  
Scornful pride, that I ran t'have brought her back to Amyntas,  
Ran with might and main, in vain: for I feared her away still;  
And when I came backward to the well, than I miss Amyntas.  
Surely I fear he's dead, for I know that he fully resolved  
Ere that he came to the well, himself t'have speedily murdered.  Chorus. 
That's but an ordinary thing, for a lover death to be threatening,  
But not an ordinary thing any man for love to be dying.  Thyrsis. 
God grant it prove so in Amyntas. Chor. Doubt not. Thyrs. I fear it.  
Yet to the Cave I'll go, where sage Elpinus abideth:  
There, if he live, its like, that Amyntas willbe recounting  
His forepast pains to the rocks and watery fountains,  
And with pleasant pipe, with voice so sweetly resounding  
Make those rocks to resound, and wring out tears fro the fountains.   

The second Scene.  Amyntas, Daphne, Fulvia. 
THy pity was pityles, Daphne, my dart to be plucking  
From this doleful breast, my pains and pangs be redoubled  
By differing death: what meanest thou thus to be turning,  
Turning and winding my troubled mind with a thousand  
fruitless discourses? thou think'st perchance that Amyntas  
Will dispatch himself: if he do, that's best for Amyntas.  Daphne. 
Fie for shame: leave of these wicked words; for I know, that  
Bashfulness, not pride, made Phillis run from Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
Owretch; sole despair, that drives all hope from Amyntas,  
Is my sole comfort: fond hope first wounded Amyntas;  
And fond hope, even now (o endless grief) is a budding  
In my baleful breast, and only because that I live yet,  
Which is of all others the devourïngst worm to the wretched.  Daphne. 
Live yet wretched a while, and keep thyself for a comfort;  
Think thou see'st Phillis sit naked still by the wellspring.  Amyntas. 
Had not fell fortune and lewd love plagued Amyntas  
With pains sufficient, but wellsprings must be presented  
Unto my eyes: and then to my scorched tongue be denied?  Fulvia. 
What? shall I then be the Crow, whose never-lucky resounding  
Still brings baleful news? shall I first bring death to the aged  
Father Montanus, whose gray-hairs now be deprived  
Of their chief comfort, fair Phillis, brave bony Phillis?  
Old Father, chyldles Father, nay, now not a Father.  Daphne. 
Some sad voice I do hear. Amynt. I do hear most dolefuly sounded  
Phillis dearest name, which ears and heart is a wounding:  
who's that which name her? Daph. Fair Fulvia, Fulvia dearest  
Nymph to the high Huntress of forests mighty Diana.  Fulvia. 
Know it he must▪ and shall, that he may with speed be procuring,  
That those lovely relics of Phillis may be preserved;  
If those lovely relics of Phillis yet be remaining,  
Luckless' Phillis. Amynt. Alas, what? yet more plagues for Amyntas?  Fulvia. 
O Daphne. Daph. What's that? Say on, sweet Fulvia, what's that  
Which thou spak'st to thyself? What made fair Fulvia still still  
After Phillis name our ears with sighs to be filling?  Fulvia. 
How can I choose but sigh, so rueful a sight to remember?  Amyntas. 
O that rueful sight makes my cold heart to be rueful:  
Is my Phillis alive? Daph. Good Fulvia kill not Amyntas  
With so long suspense, let's know what may be the matter.  Fulvia. 
O God, why shall I tell such dead news? and yet I must tell.  
Phillis came naked to my house, and told me the cause of  
Her coming naked: new dressed, she desired me of all loves  
Loving girl, that I would accompany her to the pleasant  
Yuychurches' park, and frame myself to the hunting.  
Both content, both went, and met with a company gallant  
Of flowering damsels waiting on Pembrokiana,  
With bows and arrows on prince like Pembrokiana.  
Much time with pastimes was past, sports drew to an ending,  
And on a sudden lo, where erst no wolf was abiding,  
Ravening wolf runs forth with blood-red mouth fro the bushes,  
And on a sudden lo, whilst others bows be a bending,  
Phillis sent her shaft from her own ear unto the woolus ear:  
Soemuch wrought in her heart sweet sight of Pembrokiana,  
Soemuch did she desire to be praised of Pembrokiana.  
Wounded wolf to the wood, stout Phillis runs to the wounded  
Wolf with a dart in her hand. Amynt. O dreadful dart to Amyntas,  
How can a pleasant end come from so deadly beginning?  Fulvia. 
And with an other dart to the self same place I repaired;  
But Wolf and Phillis (grief spurred th'one, glory the other)  
Were quite out of sight: yet I traced them both to the thickest  
And most desert place: there, (o dear dart to my Phillis)  
There lay Phillis dart, and not far thence was a white lawn  
Wherein Phillis locks enwrapped were by my own hands.  
And as I turned about, seven other woolus by the naked  
Bones of a mangled corpse, gore blood were greedily licking:  
And as chanced (would God such chance had Phillis) I saw them,  
Yet they saw not me, they were so greedily gorging,  
And so bend to the pray: So thence for fear I retired:  
And this is all that I know: and here's that lawn, that I spoke of.  Amyntas. 
And is this not enough? o lawn of my bony Phillis:  
O bony Phillis blood, thou'rt dead my sweet bony Phillis.  Daphne. 
O double death's wound: dead Phillis murdereth Amyntas.  Fulvia. 
'tis but a swoon; for he breath's; and lo, he's quickly revived.  Amyntas. 
Grief, leave of lingering: make quick dispatch of Amyntas:  
Grief, thou'rt too too slow; if death be reserved for Amyntas  
Hand, he'll take it in hand. For alas, if nought be a wanting  
Unto the highest point of grief, if nought's to be added  
Unto Amyntas woe, for what then stayeth Amyntas▪  
O Daphne, Daphne, was Amyntas lately repelled  
From death, sweet death's door by Daphne's means? Was Amyntas  
Kept saulf for these joys? O, then, than I might in a good time  
Have discharged myself of a huge and horrible Aetna:  
But Daphne would not, but cursed Destiny would not,  
Lest that I might by death those plagues have timely prevented,  
Which accursed Fates for Amyntas lately prepared.  
But now, since my woes at last are come to a full groat,  
Destiny and Daphne may well, well let me be dying.  Daphne. 
Yet differ thy death till certain news be received  
Whether Phillis live or die; and then be resolved.  Amyntas. 
Live or die? who doubts? would God that were to be doubted.  Fulvia. 
And would God my tongue had clou'n to my roof, when I blabbed.  Amyntas. 
Geane me the lawn, good Nymph, white lawn, which only remaineth  
Of sweete-white Phillis, that I may in stead of a Phillis  
Kiss my Phillis lawn, and so my joys be prolonging,  
So my shortened days with contentation ending.  Fulvia. 
What? shall I give or keep? Lewd cause wherefore he desir's it  
Wills me to keep it still, lest it bring fancy to fury.  Amyntas. 
Nymph extremely cruel, that thinks it much to be gewing  
One poor piece of lawn, even at last gasp of Amyntas.  
Well, than I yield to my death, and destiny noe-pity-taking:  
Let lawn stay with you, and you stay here for Amyntas.  Daphne. 
Hark, come back, here, take, o stay, and run not Amyntas.  
And yet Amyntas runs, enraged, desperate, headlong.  Fulvia. 
Yea, and runs so fast, that he is not like to be outrun.  
Therefore better I were to my journeys end to be hasting:  
And yet I grieve myself, Montanus mind to be grieving,  
Lest these news inflict as deadly a wound in a father,  
As they gave even now to the fainting heart of a Lover.    


The fourth Act, and first Scene.  Phillis, Daphne, Chorus. 
But what a dart was that, which mightily flew fro the fingers  
Of brave Lady Regent of these woods, Pembrokiana,  
Unto the foreign Bear, which came with greedy devowring  
jaws to the harmless game? Whose dying hour was a birthday  
Unto her own young whelps, whose groans thus lastly resounded,  
Death's dart, (yet sweet dart, as thrown by Pembrokiana)  
Make my wound more wide, give larger scope to my young ones,  
give them a free passage, herself hath given them a passport.  Daphne. 
Phillis, for your sports I do much joy, but yet a thousand  
Times more for yourself, sith you so quickly revived  
Live yet safe and sound: for Fulvia lately reported  
Strange news of your death: would God that Fulvia had been  
Dumb, or an other deaf: one mischif draws on an other.  Phillis. 
And in truth just cause had Fulvia for to believe so,  
Sith that I was not like from death's door so to be scaping.  Daphne. 
But yet no just cause had Fulvia for to report so.  
Now let's hear at large, thy dangers and thy delyu'ries.  Phillis. 
Whyl'st I ran after a wolf, I was all enclosed on a sudden  
With dark dens and groves, and forced that chase to be leaving:  
But when I sought to retire and company lost to recover,  
There did I see this wolf (for I knew this Wolf by an arrow  
Which myself did shoot, and gave her a wound by the left care)  
There did I see this Wolf and more Woolus greedily praying  
On some beasts carcase late slain by them, but I could not  
Well discern what beast: this wounded Wolf in a fury  
Comes with a gored mouth, (it seems my face she remembered)  
And so makes onward, who had been worthily welcomed,  
Had not a tree by a chance my dart unworthily hindered.  
My dart mislighting, fell wolf more fiercely approaching  
Drew so near, that I saw 'twas bootless now to be shooting,  
And darts were all spent: Therefore at last I retired  
And fled back for fear, but wyled wolf hastened onward:  
Now mark what chanced, my lawn hanged down to my shoulders  
And stuck fast to a bush, and stayed my flight, but I plucked,  
Yet bush held it fast; at last my lawn I relinquished  
For to reserve my life, and tore it away with a great part  
Of my scattered hair▪ and fear so forcibly urged  
Lightfooted Phillis, that a fearful death she avoided.  
As to my house full glad for joy I repaired, I met thee  
Daphne, there full sad by the way, and greatly amazed.  Daphne. 
Phillis alas is alive, but an other's gone to be dying.  Phillis. 
And what mean's this, Alas? am I now so lightly regarded,  
That my life with, Alas, of Daphne must be remembered?  Daphne. 
Phillis, I love thy life, but I like not a death of an other.  Phillis. 
Whose death? Daph. Death of Amyntas. Phil. Alas how died Amyntas?  Daphne. 
How? that I can not tell; nor yet well whether it is so:  
But no doubt, I believe; for it is most like that it is so.  Phillis. 
What strange news do I hear? what caused that death of Amyntas?  Daphne. 
Thy death. Phil. And I alive? Daph. Thy death was lately reported,  
And he beleeus thy death, and therefore seeketh his own death.  Phillis. 
Fear of Phillis death proved vain, and fear of Amyntas  
Death will prove vain too: life each thing lively procureth.  Daphne. 
O Phillis Phillis, thou know'st not what be the torments  
Of truelovers heart, heart made of flesh as Amyntas,  
Not flint heart, as thine; else wouldst thou love that Amyntas,  
Which loved Phillis more than life or soul of Amyntas.  
Phillis, I know, for I saw, then when thou fledst from Amyntas,  
Fledst, when by reason thou shouldst have kissed Amyntas:  
Then did Amyntas turn his pointed dart to his own breast,  
And thrust breast on dart: and vile dart pierced in a moment  
Through his coat, skin, flesh; and would have speedily pierced  
That same heart, which thou hadst more unluckily pierced,  
But that I grasped his arm, and stayed that desperate outrage.  
And now that small wound perchance will serve for a first proof  
Of cursed courage, and mind unkindly resolved,  
And that dart make way, and passage show to a damned  
Knife, or a baleful sword, with freer scope to be murdering.  Phillis. 
Is this true? Daph. No doubt. Phil. But alas would noebody stay him?  
O let's go, let's run, let's seek and search for Amyntas.  
If that Amyntas died, when Phillis seemed to be dying,  
Then, sith Phillis lives, let Amyntas truly be living.  Daphne. 
Yes yes, quickly Iran; But who can deal with a madman?  
Rage and grief fro my sight conveyed him away in a moment.  
Therefore now too late, it's too late now to be running,  
And thank thy running that it is too late to be running.  Phillis. 
O, this frets my soul Daphne, this deadly remembrance  
Of my scornful pride, that I then my Chastyty called,  
And it Chastyty was, but Chastyty noe-pyty-taking,  
Now I repent it alas, but now too late I repent yt.  Daphne. 
Good God, what do I hear? can Phillis now be repenting?  
Can she relent or yield? What plaint, what passion is this?  
Can proud Phillis love? Phil. No love, but yet pyty-taking.  Chorus. 
When pity runneth afore, love always hasteneth after:  
And now Phillis loves, since Phillis now pyty-taketh.  Daphne. 
But too late, Phillis, too late. O wretched Amyntas,  
Thou (even like to a Bee, that stings, yet dies as he stingeth,  
And his wounding life doth leave in place that he woundeth)  
Hast by thy death at last pierced Phillis through to the hartroote,  
Whereas in all thy life thou couldst not possibly move her.  
Now if Amyntas soul from flesh and blood be released,  
And here wandereth abroad (as I think it for to be wandering)  
Let that soul now see, and joy her pains to be seeing,  
Sowle, that living loved, and by death, bought, to be loved.  Chorus. 
Price to the buyer dear, and shameful price to the seller.  Phillis. 
O that my love might once purchase life for Amyntas,  
O that Amyntas life with my life might be redeemed.  Daphne. 
When steeds are stolen, than Phillis looks to the stable.   

The second Scene.  Ergastus. Chorus. Phillis. Daphne. 
MY heart with pity melts, my sowl's so drowned in anguish,  
That no sight, no sound objects itself to my senses,  
But draws tears fro my eyes, and horror brings to my hearing.  Chorus. 
What's this new man's news, that makes him look thus amazed?  Ergastus. 
News of Amyntas death. Phil. This deaths-newes brings me to death's door.  Ergastus. 
Most noble Pastor, that these woods lately frequented,  
Gentle, loved of all, to the Nymphs dear, dear to the Muses,  
And but a stripling died, and what death?  Chor. 
O, let us hear it,  
O, let us hear it alas, that we may all be a mourning  
His mischance, our grief. Phil. O dear God, I dare not approach him,  
Lest that I hear these news, yet these news must I be hearing.  
heart of stone, hard heart, cursed heart, what makes thee be fearing?  
Go and encounter these knives, these darts that he bringeth  
In sowle-wounding tongue, there show thyself to be stony.  
Pastor, I come for part of these news rightly belonging  
Unto my damnable heart, and due, more due to my hearing  
Than thou canst conceive; then spare not freely to give it.  Ergastus. 
Phillis, I surely believe, that I heard this wretched Amyntas  
With thy name his life and lamentation ending.  Daphne. 
Il news differing, is a plague as great as an ill news.  Ergastus. 
Late as I mended nets on a hill, foretroubled Amyntas,  
Horribly vexed and chafed, in face and action altered,  
Past by my side in a rage: but I stepped and hastened after,  
And overtook him; for I mused what might be the matter.  
Good friend Ergastus, qd he then, now do me a pleasure,  
Come with Amyntas now, and mark what he do's as a witness,  
Stand as a witness by; but first swear, so to be standing,  
And my deeds so marked, in no respect to be hindering.  
Here I alas poor fool (for who would ever imagine  
Such a detestable act, as he purposed then to be working?)  
Rapt out horrible oaths strait way, and swore by the mighty  
Nightwandring Hecate, Pallas, Pomona, Priapus,  
And Pan Pastors God, that I would perform what he willed me.  
Then did he lead me along to a steep and horrible hill top,  
All abrupt and rough, and made so fearful a downfall,  
That my limbs all quaked, when I looked fro the hill to the valley.  
Here did he pause for a while, and somewhat seemed to be smile,  
Which rather made me no mischif for to be deeming.  
Then, qd he, what thou see'st, that tell to the Nymphs, to the Pastors,  
And at last, these words with a down cast look he resounded,  
If that I could aswell command those greedy devouring  
Throats and teeth of Wolves, as I can soon leap from a hilltopp;  
As my life did die, o then so would I be dying;  
Then should these my limbs and cursed corpse be divided,  
As those tender joints, o grief, were all to be mangled.  
But since frowning skies wiled beasts now will not afford me,  
(Which yet I know in time will come this flesh to be tearing)  
This must serve, short death, though sharper death I deserved.  
Phillis, I come strait way, I'll come to thy company, Phillis,  
If thou dost not yet disdain my company, Phillis.  
If that I were but sure, that death brought end to thy anger,  
And that my coming would give no cause to molest thee,  
Then should life with joy leave well contented Amyntas;  
Phillis, I come, scorn not, scorn not my company, Phillis.  
Thus said, lightly he leapt, and headlong fell to the valley;  
My soul quaked for fear. Daph. O grief. Phil. O woeful Amyntas.  Chorus. 
And why staydst him not? waste fear, thy oath to be breaking?  Ergastus. 
O Noah, for when I saw his mind thus bend to that outrage,  
Oaths (in such case vain) I began to be lightly regarding,  
And caught hold (nought hold) caught hold by a paltry girdle;  
Paltry girdle broke by the swing, and weight of Amyntas:  
Part with Amyntas went, and th'other part I reteigned.  Chorus. 
O but where's that corpse, and bruised bones of Amyntas?  Ergastus. 
God knows; for by the fall my senseless soul was amazed,  
Neither durst I behold his corpse unluckily quashed.  Chorus. 
O strange news indeed, break-neck, breakheart of Amyntas.  Phillis. 
O pytyles Phillis, well may thy heart be a stony  
heart, if breakeneck news can not yet break it a sunder.  
If false tales of death, her death, who hated Amyntas,  
took his life yet away; good reason then that Amyntas▪  
True death, too true death, who my hate lovely requited,  
Should take life from me; and so it shall, with an endless  
Grief of troubled soul, or a too too slowly revenging  
Stroke of a murdering hand, or this same piece of a girdle,  
Piece of a girdle alas: that left his master Amyntas  
For good cause, that so proud Phillis might be rewarded,  
And his masters death with Phillis death be requited.  
Luckless' girdle alas of too too luckless Amyntas,  
Take no scorn for a while in a bosom vile to be lodged,  
Sith to requite, to revenge thou meanest therein to be lodged.  
Phillis should have been true turtle-dove to Amyntas  
In this lightsome world, but Phillis proudly denied;  
Therefore by thy means Phillis shall meet with Amyntas  
In those darksome dens, as Phillis rightly deserved.  Chorus. 
Poor distressed soul, forbear thyself to be plaguing:  
His fact, not thy fault, drew his confusion onward.  Phillis. 
Pastors, why do ye mourn? What mean these heavy bewailings?  
If you mourn Phillis; Phillis no mercy deserveth,  
Sith this merciless heart to Amyntas mercy denied:  
If you mourn his death, who had no cause to be dying,  
No such mourning can suffice for murdered Amyntas.  
Dry those tears, Daphne, and wipe thy watery fountains,  
And come, yet come not for me, but come for Amyntas,  
Help me to seek and find, t'entomb those bones of Amyntas;  
For this I stay yet alive: this funeral obsequy only  
Phillis can perform for baleful love of Amyntas.  
And though murdering hand pollute so sacred an office,  
Yet sith Phillis her hand performs so sacred an office,  
This will Amyntas take as a most acceptable office.  Daphne. 
Phillis, I yield my help his scattered bones to be searching,  
But so that Phillis make no more talk of a dying.  Phillis. 
All this while to myself did I live; but now to Amyntas,  
Or to Amyntas bones, crushed bones so long will I live yet,  
And live no longer; my life, his funeral ending.  
Pastors: But yet where's that way which leads to the downfall?  Chorus. 
There: and t'hill stands thence but a little more than a furlong,  Daphne. 
Come, let's go, and search: I'll guide thee; the place I remember.  Phillis. 
Pastors all farewell; farewell fair pembrokiana's  
Yuy churches park, and fountains watery, farewell.  Chorus. 
This Nymph takes her leave, as though these so many farewells  
Were her last farewell, which should cause deadly departure.    


The fifth Act, and first Scene.  Elpinus. Chorus. 
Loves aeternal laws are most unworthily blamed,  
Upright laws in deed, in show though somewhat unaequall.  
And great Lord of love his men with mercy protecteth,  
And yet▪ with justice, with due moderation ordereth.  
O by what strange means and wondrous ways, fro the dungeon  
Of despair, to the bower of bliss doth he bring in a moment  
His loving subjects? lo, gentlemynded Amyntas  
Even to the highest point of joy hath clymbd by a downfall,  
Unto a loves Paradise, by a hell full of infinite horror.  
Blessed Amyntas now; soemuch more blessed Amyntas  
Now, by how much than more wretch more cursed Amyntas.  
Now may Elpinus conceive some matter of hoping  
By thine example, that he shall have fortunate ending  
Of these loveles toils, and most unluckily begynnyngs.  Chorus. 
Sage Elpinus comes, and speaks strange words of Amyntas,  
As, that he were yet alive; and thinks his state to be happy,  
For that he died for love, and by death, bought to be loved.  
Bitter bower of bliss, where monstrous murder aboundeth,  
Loving fools Paradise, that leaves his life to be loved.  
What means Elpinus so woeful an end to be wishing?  Elpinus. 
Fryends leave of mourning: you heard false news of Amyntas.  Chorus. 
What, did he not leap down? Elp. Yes down to his only desired  
joys, and past by the shade of a fearful death, to a heaven,  
And now leaneth his head on breast of sweet bony Phillis,  
Sweet bony Phillis now, more loving now by a thousand  
Parts, then loveles afore; and sucks those sweetly beseeming  
Tears from Phillis her eyes, with a mouth with Nectar abounding.  
And now nothing else is wanting unto the full joy  
Of these loving sowls, but that Montanus is absent;  
And Montanus I seek, whose word makes absolute ending.  Chorus. 
their years are equal, and their affections equal,  
And both learned alike: o, now Montanus is happy  
Happy to have this stay and comfort unto his old age.  
But show yet, what luck, what God so saved Amyntas.  Elpinus. 
Hear, o hear then that, whereof these eyes the beholders  
Were, and whereof now this tongue may well be reporter.  
By my cave did I sit with Thyrsis down by the downfall,  
Talking of my love, loveles yet lovely Lycoris:  
When from an high we saw some man fall down on a soddayn.  
There was a heap of thorns and bows compact on a cluster  
Somewhat above our heads; 'twas his hap there first to be lighting:  
Which although by the swing and weight it bursted a sunder,  
And all came tumbling, and fell down flatly before us,  
Yet by this encounter that fall proved not to be mortal,  
Though sore and painful, making him lie as amazed  
One whole hour and more, as unable his eyes to be opening.  
We twooe, astonied to behold so fearful an object,  
Stood stark dumb for a while, although we knew 'twas Amyntas;  
But perceiving that this fall seemed not to be mortal,  
Our whole endeavours w'apply'de, his woe to be swaging,  
And sent one forthwith, for cunning Alphesiboeus,  
Alphesiboeus whom that great God learned Apollo  
Made to be skilful in herbs, when he gave me the guyft to be singing.  
But now in mean time, when Thyrsis 'gan to rehearse me  
All those secret woes and forepast pangs of Amyntas,  
Daphne and Phillis did meet us there on a sudden,  
Daphne and Phillis, who sought bruysd bones of Amyntas  
Whom they thought to be dead, as then was told me by Daphne.  
But when Phillis saw her longlookt lover Amyntas,  
Discolored, bruised, sorewounded then with a raging  
Voice, and beaten breast on Amyntas flatly she falleth,  
Face to Amyntas face, and mouth to the mouth of Amyntas:  Chorus. 
Was not Phillis abashed, unseemly to lie on Amyntas?  Elpinus. 
Shame to a feynthart love doth sometimes serve for a bridle;  
But true love indeed contemns so bashful a bridle.  
Afterward with tears his bloodless cheeks she bewashed,  
And those tears so wrought that Amyntas quickly revived,  
opened his eyes, and breathed; which breath so luckily uttered  
Encountering Phillis sweet breath was lovely received.  
With what an endless joy these twooe lay sweetly together,  
Either in others arms, and either sure of an others  
Life and love, lovers may think, none else can imagine.  Chorus. 
Is then Amyntas safe, that he needs not fear any danger?  Elpinus. 
Saulfe and sound, but that those thorns have partly defaced  
His fair cheeks, and sides did somewhat chance to be bruised:  
But that's just nothing, and works no woe to Amyntas,  
(Happy Amyntas now, that show'd such sign of a loving  
heart, and so at last obteynd to be loved of a loving  
Soul, his passed pains, make present joys to be greater)  
As yourselves shall see: for Phillis comes with Amyntas  
hitherward hard by: myself must first to the lodging  
Of rich Montanus, persuading him to be yielding  
Unto the purposed match; and thither they be appointed  
Shortly to come, this way: and now its time to be walking.   

The second Scene.  Amyntas, Phillis. 
Dear life, when shall I once have full possession of you?  Phillis. 
When time comes, I'll tell: fruit too-soon plucked, is a sowre-fruyte.  Amyntas. 
If too-late, rotten.  Phill. 
Then pluck when time is appointed.  Amyntas. 
Oyet, come sweet light of these mine eyes to the harbour,  
And ten-thousand woes with a good-turne once be requiting.  Phillis. 
What good-turne would you?  Amyn. 
That which cost you not a dodkin,  
And yet would content my mind much more than a treasure.  Phillis. 
What's that? I understand not yet what may be the meaning.  Amyntas. 
Hark in your ear then.  Phil. 
Fie, no: is that but a trifle?  Amyntas. 
Yet let's sleep for a while; for your sake long was I watching.  Phillis. 
Content. Amynt. O sweet Nymph.  Phil. 
But stay, and stir not a finger:  
As you sleep, I'll tell, what flowers I do keep for a brydes-wayne.  Amyntas. 
How can I hear in sleep? Phil. What pleasure then can Amyntas  
Take, when he sleeps by my side, if he feel noething when he sleepeth?  
And yet I can not sleep, for joy, that I found my Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
Then let's kiss: kissed mouth is nothing worse for a kissing:  
So Bee sucks sweet flowers, flowers noething worse for a sucking;  
And you kiss roses, then think my lips to be roses.  Phillis. 
Well: but these roses so kissed, ask not to be kissed:  
Then let Amyntas stay, till Phillis mean to be kissing.  Amyntas. 
If nought else, yet give me leave those eyes to be kissing,  
Those fair eyes, and so shall I seem fair soul to be kissing.  Phillis. 
You would kiss mine eyes: which ever afore, with a thousand  
Sighs and sobs you cursed, for throwing darts at Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
Now I desire your eyes of purpose for to be kissing,  
Thereby so to declare by this so lovely a token,  
That your murdering eyes, my cursing lips be for ever  
Now made faithful fryends, and all contention ended.  
And, if Phillis think herself not fully revenged,  
Then let her own teeth bite these lying lips of Amyntas.  Phillis. 
If that Amyntas cease mine eyes any more to be cursing,  
Why should Phillis then for spite his lips be a biting?  Amyntas. 
If no kind of kiss from Phillis may be procured,  
Yet let an embracement to Amyntas his arms be aforded.  Phillis. 
With good will.  Amynt. 
Most good; what better will to Amyntas?  Phillis. 
But yet stay: Phillis must first get a boon of Amyntas.  Amyntas. 
O what guyft shall I grant? what boon seeks my bony Phillis?  Phillis. 
Four or five apples fro the tree that grows by the hil-topp.  Amyntas. 
How can I come to the tree for bry'rs and soemany bushes?  Phillis. 
I'll bring you so near, as you may easily touch it.  Amyntas. 
If that I may clasp it, then doubt not, Phillis, Amyntas  
Will climb up to the tree, or shake down foemany apples.  Phillis. 
Is't true? clipped Phillis must then look so to be served.  Amyntas. 
My life, give me the leave, this fair red rose to be putting  
In this bosom, where my heart hath made his abiding,  Phillis. 
O so might you prick your heart with thorns of a red rose,  
Or take it fro my breast perchance, and give it an other.  Amyntas. 
Grant me this one grace yet: this favour do me for all this,  
give me thy snow-white hand, to be clipped and kissed of Amyntas.  Phillis. 
So by the hard-gryping, hoate-kissing Lover Amyntas,  
Phillis snow-white hand may melt, or chance to be bruised.  Amyntas. 
What kind of love's this, that Phillis bear's to Amyntas.  Phillis. 
discreet and sober. Amynt. Well, than this shallbe my sober,  
And yet lovely request; Sat down, that I may be beholding  
That fair Phillis face, and hear her sweetly resounding,  Phillis. 
Phillis must needs yield, when Amyntas duly demandeth.  Amyntas. 
They sing these Asclepiades.  
Sweet face, why be the heu'ns so to the bountiful,  
Making that radiant beauty of all the stars  
Bright-burning, to be fair Phillis her ornament?  
And yet seem to be so spytefuly partial,  
As not for to afford Argus his eyes to me,  
Eyes too few to behold Phillis her ornament?  Phillis. 
First and lastly beloved, only my only joy,  
Why hath not thy beloved soemany lou'ly hearts  
As those Partridges have of Paphlagonia?  
One breast is not enough for to retain my joy,  
More hearts would that I had for to receive my love,  
As those Partridges have of Paphlagonia.  Amyntas. 
Let come fair Helen, Troy's tribulation,  
Or brave Endymion's sweet speculation,  
Or Nymph Idalian friendly to passion;  
None but Phillis alone holdeth Amyntas hands:  
None but Phillis alone pleaseth Amyntas eyes:  
None but Phillis alone woundeth Amyntas heart.  Phillis. 
Let come that pretty Boy, fond of his own image,  
Or goddess Minion killed by an ugly Boar,  
Or youthful Ganymede rapt by the Thunderer:  
Phillis stretcheth alone hands to Amyntas hands▪  
Phillis turneth alone eyes to Amyntas eyes,  
Phillis joineth alone heart to Amyntas heart.  
O, this Amyntas name enchants my soul, that I can not  
Leave this Amyntas name: my tongue still runs on Amyntas,  
And my heart, and mind, and soul still thinks on Amyntas:  
And yet, Amyntas, I know, it's more than time to be going:  
Elpinus long since hath made all known to my father,  
And my father, I know, his new son longs to be knowing.  Amyntas. 
Let me help you up: your hand is in hand of Amyntas  
Now at last surprysde: yet I ask but a kiss for a ransom.  Chorus. 
IF that such sour sauce for sweetest meats be reserved;  
If that Amyntas must serve, love, weep, die for a Phillis,  
If those great pleasures with great pains must be procured,  
Then, good love, give those great matters unto the greate-men.  
Let my Love soon love; let a sawdrey lace, or a thimble,  
Or young nightingale suffice my fancy to further:  
Let not such torments and martyrdoms be required  
My poor simple joys, and pleasures lowly to season:  
But sweete-bitter words, but kind and lovely repulses,  
And such falling out, as may be a speedy renewing  
And fresh increasing of love: let such be the loving  
Wars, and wars, as peace and truce may end in a moment.  
FINIS.     

Phillis Funeral. The second part of the Countess of Pembrokes Yuychurch.  

The first day.  
NOw bonnilass Phillis was newly betroathd to Amyntas  
By rich Montanus consent; who yet, for a long time  
Wedding day differed, till his own birth day was approaching:  
That twooe solemn feasts joined fryendly together in one day  
Might with more merriment, and more concourse be adorned.  
So men on earth purpose, but Gods dispose in Olympus:  
For, when as each thing was by the Father duly prepared,  
And byrthwedding day now near and nearer approached,  
Wedding by bride's death was most untimely prevented,  
And father's birthday, deaths-day to the daughter appointed;  
Deaths-day lamented many days by the woeful Amyntas,  
Deaths-day which hastened deaths-day to the mournful Amyntas.  
Whose mourning all night all day, did weary the Mountains,  
Weary the woods, and winds, and caves, and weary the fountains.  
But when he saw in vain his cheeks with tears to be watered,  
Cheeks all pale and wan, yet could not find any comfort;  
Comfortless than he turns at length his watery countenance  
Unto the water streams; and there his plaints he beginneth:  
Hear, o Brook, these plaints, hear, o sweet brook, my bewailings,  
And convey them down to thy kinsman's watery kingdom,  
Down to the world-washing main-sea with speedy reflowing:  
World-washing mayne-sea will then convey to the worlds-end  
This grievous mourning by the shore, by the sands, by the desert,  
Desert, sands, and shore fit witnese unto my mourning.  
And great God Neptune perchance his mightyly-thundring  
Triton will command to recount what I feel, what I suffer,  
Raging heat of love passing outragius Aetna.  
So th'infamous fame of wretched lover Amyntas,  
Blown from th'east to the west by the sounding tromp of a Triton,  
Through deep seas passing, at length may pierce to Avernus  
And fyelds Elysian, where blessed souls be abiding;  
And there meet Phillis, sweet soul of Phillis among them,  
Sweet soul of Phillis, still still to be mourned of Amyntas.  
O what a life did I lead, what a blessed life did I lead then,  
Happy Shepherd with a loving lass, while destiny suffered?  
Under a Beech many times we sat most sweetly together,  
Under a broad Beech-tree, that sunbeams might not annoy us,  
Either in others arms, still looking either on other,  
Both many times singing, and verses both many making,  
And both soemany words with kisses soemany mingling:  
Sometimes her white neck, as white as milk, was I tutching,  
Sometimes her pretty paps and breasts was I bold to be fingering,  
Whilst Phillis smile and blushing hanged by my bosom,  
And these cheeks of mine did stroke with her ivory fingers.  
O joyful spring-time with pleasures wished abounding,  
O those blessed days, whilst good luck shined fro the Heavens.  
But since Phillis, alas, did leave most cursed Amyntas,  
pains have plagued, alas, both flesh and bones of Amyntas,  
No day riseth, alas, but it hears these groans of Amyntas,  
No night cometh, alas, that brings any rest to Amyntas,  
Night and day thus, alas, still Phillis troubleth Amyntas:  
Now if northern blasts should sound their fearful alarm,  
And boisterous tempests come thundering down fro the Heavens,  
So that I were compelled with Sheep and Kids fro the pastures  
Down to the broadebrauncht trees & thick-sett groaves to be skudding,  
There to remain for a while, and all for fear of a scouring,  
Phillis then do I want, than my sweet Phillis is absent,  
Phillis then do I want, whose wont was then to be harckning  
All that I could of love, or goddess lovely remember:  
Songs or lusty Satyrs, and Fauni fryends to the Mountains,  
And cheerful Charites; such songs, as none but I only,  
Only Amyntas made, for none compared with Amyntas.  
But now Phillis I want; and who shall now be my Phillis?  
Who shall mark what I sing, what I say, forsaken Amyntas?  
If that I praise Phillis, these hills give praise to my Phillis,  
And Phillis, Phillis from rocks with an Echo reboundeth.  
If that I groan, these trees with bending, yield many groanings,  
And very ground for grief shows her complexion altered:  
So this ground, these trees, these rocks, and Echo resounding,  
All that I hear, that I see, geu's fresh increase to my sorrow.  
Let those happy Shepherds keep company fryendly together,  
And I alone, yielding due mourning unto my Phillis,  
I'll now wander alone, still alone by the rocks, by the Mountains,  
Dwelling in dark dens, by the wild beasts only frequented,  
Where no path for man, where no man's seen to be passing:  
Or to the woods i'll go so dark with broad-shadoe branches,  
That no sun by the day, no moon by the night do behold me▪  
And that I hear no voice but goblins horrible outcries,  
Owls baleful skriking, and Crows unlucky resound.  
There shall these mine eyes be resolved in watery fountains,  
There shall these fountains flow over a long by the pastures.  
There will I make such plaints, as beasts shall mourn by my playnyngs,  
Such plaints, as strong trees shall rend and rive fro the rooting,  
Make wild Panthers tame, and mollify lastly the flint stone.  
And, if I needs must sleep, i'll take but a nap by my sleeping,  
On bare and could ground these limbs all weary reposing:  
No green turf to my head shall stand in steed of a pillow,  
No bows or branches give covering unto my carcase,  
That some fowl serpent may speedily give my deaths-wound,  
That this poor soul may from flesh and blood be released,  
And passing Stygian waters, may come to the fair fyelds  
Elysian fair fyelds, and daily resort to my Phillis.  
Mean while, fryendly Shepherds & ploughmen, mark what I tell you;  
Disdaigne dainty Venus, give no ground unto the young Boy,  
Young Boy, but strong Boy, take heed, take heed by Amyntas,  
Th'one with a fire hath burnt, and th'other pierced with an arrow  
Flesh and blood and bones, what's worse than a fire, than an arrow?  
O bitter fortune of too too wretched Amyntas.   

The second day.  
AS soon as morning her shining rays fro the Mountains  
Had shown forth, and driven all starr-light quite fro the heavens,  
Then that unhappy shepherd still plagued with unhappyly loving,  
Left those barren banks, and waters no pyty-taking:  
And on a crooked sheephook his limbs all weary reposing,  
climbed aloft to the hills, but, alas, very fayntyly climbed,  
Kydds, and Goats, and Sheep, driving, good man, to the Mountains,  
For Sheep, Goats, and kids, with pastures better abounding,  
Then by the way thus he spoke, to the Sheep, to the Goats, to the young Kydds.  
O poor flock, it seems you feel these pangs of a Lover,  
And mourn thus, to behold your mournful master Amyntas.  
Your wont was, some part to be bleating, some to be skipping,  
Some with bended brows, and horned pates to be butting,  
Sheep to be gnapping grass, and Goats to the vines to be climbing,  
But now no such thing, but now no lust to be lively,  
Sheep and silly Shepherd with luckless love be besotted:  
You for Amyntas mourn, for Phillis mourneth Amyntas;  
O with what miseries poor mortal men be molested?  
Now do I know right well what makes you thus to be mourning,  
Thus to be tired, thus to be quailed, thus to be drooping;  
Phillis, while she remained, mylkt my Goats ever at euning,  
Goats that brought home dugs stretched with milk ever at euning.  
Phillis brought them flowers, and them brought unto the welsprings,  
When dogg-dayes reigned, when fyelds were all to be scorched,  
Whilst that I lay sleeping in cooling shade to refresh me.  
Phillis again was wont with Amyntas Sheep to be washing,  
Phillis again was wont my sheep thus washed to be shearing,  
And to the sweet pastures my Sheep thus shorn to be driving,  
Then from Fox and wolf my Sheep thus driven to be keeping,  
And in fyelds and coats my flock thus kept, to be closing;  
Lest by the Northern winds my Sheep might chance to be pinched,  
Lest by the frost or snow my kids might chance to be grieved:  
Phillis loved you so, so Phillis loved Amyntas,  
Phillis a guide of yours, and Phillis a friend of Amyntas.  
But sweet Sheep, sweet Goats, spare not to be lively, for all this,  
Look not upon my weeping face so sadly, for all this,  
Harcken not to my plaints and songs all heavy, for all this.  
Harcken not to my pipe, my pipe unlucky, for all this,  
But sweet sheep, sweet goats, leave of your master Amyntas,  
Leap and skip by the flowering fields, and leave of Amyntas,  
Climb to the wines, and tender trees, and leave of Amyntas;  
Climb to the vines, but run for life for fear of a mischif,  
When th'old Silenus' with his ass comes laesyly trotting.  
Let me alone, me alone lament and mourn my beloved,  
Let me alone celebrate her death by my tears by my mourning:  
Like to the silver Swan, who seeing death to be coming,  
wandereth alone for a while through streams of lovely Caister;  
Then to the flowering banks all faint at length he repaireth,  
Singing there, sweet bird, his dying song to Caister,  
giving there, sweet bird, his last farewell to Caister,  
Yielding up, sweet bird, his breath and song to Caister.  
How can Amyntas live, when Phillis leaveth Amyntas?  
What for fyelds, for woods, for meadows careth Amyntas,  
Meadows, woods, and fyelds, if my sweet Phillis abandon?  
Mighty Pales fro the fyelds, fro the meadows learned Apollo,  
Faunus went fro the woods, when Phillis went from Amyntas;  
No good sight to my eyes, no good sound came to my hearing.  
But let Phillis again come back, and stay with Amyntas,  
Then shall woods with leaves, and fields with flowers be abounding,  
Meadows with green grass to the poor man's daily rejoicing,  
Mighty Pales to the fields, to the meadows learned Apollo,  
Faunus comes to the woods, if Phillis come to Amyntas;  
No bad sight to my eyes, no bad sound comes to my hearing.  
Come then, good Phillis, come back, if Destiny suffer,  
Leave those blessed bowers of sowls already departed;  
Let those sparkling eyes most like to the fire to the crystal,  
Overcome those hags and fiends of fearful Avernus,  
Which have overcome those stars of cheerful Olympus.  
And by thy speech more sweet than songs of Thracian Orpheus,  
Pacify th'infernal Furies, please Pluto the grim God,  
Stay that bawling cur, that three-throate horrible Hellhound.  
Sweet heart, come to thy friend, to thy friend come speedily sweetehart,  
Speedily come, lest grief consume forsaken Amyntas.  
Phillis I pray the return, if prayers may be regarded,  
By these tears of mine from cheeks ay rueful abounding,  
By those arms of thine which sometime clasped Amyntas,  
By lips thine and mine joined most sweetly together,  
By faith, hands, and heart with true sincerity pledged,  
By songs, by wedding with great solemnity vowed,  
By jests, and good-turns, by pleasures all I beseech thee,  
Help and succour alas thy forlorn lover Amyntas.  
Or, by thy tears entreat those Nymphs of destiny fatal,  
Noe-pity-taking Nymphs entreat that I line not alone thus,  
Pyn'de thus away with grief, suffering unspeakable anguish:  
But let death, let death come speedily give me my passport,  
So shall I find fair fyelds, fair seats, fair groves by my dying▪  
And in fields, in seats, in groves fair Phillis abiding.  
There shall Phillis again in courtesy strive with Amyntas,  
There with Phillis again in courtesy strive shall Amyntas,  
There shall Phillis again make garlands gay for Amyntas,  
There for Phillis again gay garlands make shall Amyntas,  
There shall Phillis again be repeating songs with Amyntas,  
Which songs Phillis afore had made and sung with Amyntas,  
But what alas did I mean to the whistling winds to be mourning▪  
As though mourning could restore what Destiny taketh?  
Then to his house; full sad, when night approached, he returned.   

The third day.  
ANd now since burial of Phillis lovely the third day  
At length appeared, when poor distressed Amyntas  
lost his Kids fro the fold, and sheep let forth fro the sheeepecoate,  
And to the neighbour hills full set with trees he resorted:  
Where, as amidst his flock, his Lass thus lost, he bewaileth,  
And makes fond wishes with deep sighs interrupted,  
And he relenting air with his outcries all to be beateth;  
Echo could not now to the last word yield any Echo  
All oppressed with love, for her old love still she remembered,  
And she remembered, still, that sweet Narcissus her old love,  
With tears all blubbered, with an inward horror amazed.  
When she gins to resound her sobs still stay the resounding,  
When she gins her speech, her grief still stoppeth her halfe-speech,  
With which her wont was with lovers sweetly to dally.  
During these her dumps, thus again complaineth Amyntas,  
During his complaints she with all compassion harkneth.  
O what a war is this, with love thus still to be striving?  
O what a wyld-fyre's this conveyed to my heart by the blynd-boy?  
That neither long time can bring any end to my striving,  
Nor tears extinguish this wylde-fyre thrown by the blind boy?  
Then then, alas, was I lost, o then then, alas, was I undone,  
When the coral-colored lips were by me greedily viewed,  
And eyes like bright stars, and fair brows daintily smile,  
And cheerful forehead with gold-wyre all to be decked,  
And cheeks all white-red, with snow and purple adorned,  
And pure flesh swelling with quick veins speedily moving,  
And such fine fingers, as were most like to the fingers  
Of Tithonus wife plaiting th'old beard of her husband.  
What shall I say to the rest? each part united in order,  
Each part unspotted, with long robes covered each part.  
What shall I say to the rest? many kisses joined to the sweet words,  
And many words of weight in like sort joined to the kisses,  
Under a green laurel sitting, and under a myrtle,  
Myrtle due to Venus, green laurel due to Apollo.  
That little earthen pot these joys hath now fro me snatched,  
That little earthen pot where Phillis bones be reserved:  
O thrice happy the pot, where Phillis bones be reserved,  
And thrice happy the ground, where this pot shallbe reserved.  
Earth and earthen pot, you have the beloved of Amyntas,  
nature's sweet darling, and only delight to the Country,  
And sun of this soil, of these woods only Diana.  
O thrice happy the earth, but much more happy the earth-pot.  
O thrice happy the grass, that grows on grave of a Goddess,  
And shooting upwards displays his top to the heavens.  
Sweet blasts of Zephyrus shall make this grass to be seemly,  
Noah sith shall touch it no serpent craftily lurking  
With venomous breathing, or poison deadly shall hurt it;  
No Lioness fowl paws, Bears foot, beasts horn shall abuse it,  
No birds with pecking, Noah vermin filthy by creeping,  
No winters hoar frost, no night-deaws dangerous humour,  
No rage of Suns-heate, no stars, or power of heavens.  
No boisterous tempest, no lightnings horrible outrage;  
drive hence, good ploughmen, drive hence your wearied oxen,  
And you friendly shepherds, keep back your sheep fro the graves grass,  
Lest your sheep unwares may chance by my Love to be harmed,  
Lest by the bulls rude rage her bones may chance to be bruised,  
Whilst with foot and horn he the graves-ground teareth asunder.  
Make haste you youngmen, make haste all you pretty damsels,  
With sacred water this sacred place to besprinkle,  
Burn piles of beech-trees, and then cast on the Sabaean  
spice to the piles burning, send sweet perfumes to the heavens,  
Cinnamon, and Casia, Violets, and loved Amomum;  
Red-colored Roses, with Beare-breech cast ye together.  
And then on every side set tapers sacred in order,  
And beat your bare breasts with fysts all weary with anguish,  
And sing sweet epitaphs, lifting your voice to the heavens,  
Sing sour-sweet epitaphs in death and praise of a Goddess.  
Wanton fleshly Satyrs, and Fauni friends to the mountains,  
Nymphs addict to the trees, and in most gracius order  
Three Graces joining, shall bear you company mourning.  
And I myself will dress, embalm, and chest my beloved,  
And, following her coarse, all pale, and wan as a dead man,  
Weary the woods with plaints, and make new streams by my weeping  
Such streams as no bank shall bar, streams ever abounding,  
Such streams as no drought shall dry, streams never abating.  
With me Parnassus, with me shall mourn my Apollo,  
And Venus, all chafed, that Destiny took my beloved.  
And that same vile boy, which first did join me to Phillis,  
His lamp shall lay down, and painted quiver abandon,  
And with his own pretty tears trickling, and sweetly beseeming,  
Help me to mourn, although that he gave first cause to my mourning.  
But, what alas do I mean to repeat these funeral outcries,  
Still to repeat these plaints, and still too late to repeat them?  
Thrice hath Phoebus now displayed his beams fro the mountains,  
Thrice hath Phoebus now descended down to the mayn-sea,  
Since my beloved was dead, since our good company parted,  
Since Phillis buried, since all solempnities ended,  
Since my delights, poor wretch, were all enclosed in a coffin.  
Yet do I mourn here still, though noegood come by my mourning,  
Adding tears to my tears, and sorrows unto my sorrows,  
And no stay to my tears, and no rest comes to my sorrows.  
O strong boy, strong bow, and o most dangerous arrow.  
Now do I find it a pain, which first did seem but a pleasure,  
Now do I feel it a wound, which first did seem but a smarting,  
When strong boy, strong bow shot first that dangerous arrow.  
Thus did Amyntas mourn, and then came home by the Sunset, 

In these verses, 
Echo could not now to the last word yield any Echo  
All oppressed with love, for her old love still she remembered,  
And she remembered still that sweet Narcissus her old love, etc.  Some little men find great fault, that this word, still, being twice used, is but an idle repetition to make up the verse. Where, if they could see, that in the first place it is an Adverb, & an adjective in the second, they might aswell be still, and not speak any thing, as still talk, and yet say noething.  
The like reprehension was that of him, whose wits were so weakened with passions, that he fell down of his horse, with singing, Down a Down. This man, first moved by the peremptory Preface of the Lawyer's Logic (which yet could touch none but the galled back) and reading there in the Analysis of Stanfords Crown Pleas, that in Homieidijs, etc. although in times past Voluntas reputabatur pro facto, yet it was not so used in these days, but only in the Prince's case, and certain special and honourable personages mentioned by Statute in H. 7. time: thought it a wondrous fault, that I did but Digitum ad fontem intendere, and not literally repeat every word at large out of Saunders case in Plowden, where I bring in his ministering of poison with a murdering intent, as a medium in framing of a Syllogism: whereas alas every child knows, that Saunders action did effect death, even to his own confusion. Better might he have reprehended the misprision of the Printer, who Pag. 74. should have left out Higgs, and put in Mynshew, the very living image of Sir Philip Sydney's Damaetas.     

The fourth day.  
THrice had shining Sun withdrawn his face fro the heavens,  
And earth all darkened since Phillis friendly departed;  
And, when fourth day came, then again truelover Amyntas  
mindful of old love still, took no joy flock to be feeding,  
But still alone wandering through fyelds, to the banks, to the waters,  
Leaned his head on Bank, and eyes cast down to the waters,  
With tears incessant his cheeks full watery washing.  
What now resteth▪ alas, to be done of woeful Amyntas?  
No sense, no knowledge in these unsensible ashes,  
In grave no feeling, in death there's noe-pity-taking.  
Phillis makes but a jest, dead Phillis mocketh Amyntas,  
Phillis breaks her faith, and plays with Pluto the black-Prince,  
Pluto the black-Prince now enjoys those joys of Amyntas.  
Speak on, good sweet Nymphs, if you can show any tidings,  
Whether among those trulls that wait on Queen of Avernus,  
My Queen and Empress, my Phillis chance to be spinning?  
Speak, for I fear, for I fear, she'll never come to Amyntas.  
Father Sylvanus, Sylvanus good to the mountains,  
And flocks on mountains, o help most helpless Amyntas,  
Help by thyself by thy friends thou God, cause Gods to be helping:  
For my religion, for my devotion help me,  
Either let Phillis be returned back to Amyntas,  
Or let Amyntas die, that death may succour Amyntas.  
And thou naughty Cupid, yet say on, give me thy counsel,  
What shall I do? shall I die? shall Amyntas murder Amyntas?  
Die then Amyntas: death will bring Phillis to Amyntas.  
O hard-hearted Love, thou see'st what I bear, what I suffer,  
heart with flames, and eyes with mournful water abounding,  
Head with cares possessed, and foul full of horrible anguish:  
This thou see'st, and sure I do know, it grieves thee to see this,  
Though they call thee tyrant, though so thou justly be called,  
Though thy nature pass Busiris beastly behaviour:  
For, what makes me to mourn, may cause thee to yield to my mourning:  
One rude rock, one wind, and one tempestuus outrage  
Batters, breaks, and beats my ship, thy ship to the quicksands;  
Our harms are equal, thy shipwracks like to my shipwreck;  
Love did love Phillis, Phillis was loved of Amyntas,  
Phillis loves darling, Phillis darling of Amyntas;  
Deearling, crown, garland, hope, joy, health, wealth of Amyntas,  
And what more shall I say? for I want words fit for Amyntas.  
And thou churlish ground, now cease any more to be fruitful,  
Cease to be decked with flowers and all in green to be mantled:  
Thy flower is wyth'red, my garland lately decayed,  
Phillis thine and mine with death untimely departed.  
Whose sweet corpse thou bar'st, whose footsteps in thee be printed,  
And whose face thou didst admire for beauty renowned.  
Belch out roaring blasts with gaping jaws to the heavens,  
That those roaring blasts may scour by the skies, by the heavens,  
And foul struggling storms cast down fro the clouds, fro the heavens,  
For such fowl weather will best agree with a mourner.  
howl and mourn thou earth, and roar with an horrible outcry,  
howl as then thou didst, when mountains were to the mountains  
Put, by thy cursed brood, to be climbing up to Olympus,  
When great flakes of fire came flashing down fro the heavens,  
When thy crawling sons came tumbling down from Olympus.  
howl as Lady Ceres did then when Prince of avernus  
Stole her daughter away from fields that joined on Aetna,  
Unto the dungeons dark, and dens of his hellish abiding.  
Thou ground, forgetful what was by duty required,  
Shouldst send unbidden, with Phillis, tears to Avernus.  
Her blessed burden thou wast unworthy to bear up,  
Therefore tender girl in flowering age she departed.  
O frowning fortune, o stars unluckily shining,  
O cursed birthday of quite forsaken Amyntas,  
Phillis, alas, is changed, Phillis converted in ashes,  
Whose pretty lips, neck, eyes, and hair so sweetly beseeming,  
Purple, snow, and fire, and gold-wyre seemed to resemble.  
Tithonus fair wife comes always home by the Sunset,  
Every night comes home to that old Tithonus her husband,  
Sweet Shafalus leaving, and graybeard heartily kissing:  
But my Phillis, alas, is gone, is gone to Avernus,  
Gone too-far to return, and this tormenteth Amyntas.  
White is black, and sweet is sour to the sense of Amyntas,  
Night and day do I weep and make ground moist by my weeping,  
Mourn, lament, and howl, and power forth plaints to the heavens:  
So do the Nightingales in bushes thorny remaining,  
Sing many doleful notes and tunes, sweet harmony making,  
Their young ones mourning, their young ones daily bewailing.  
Phillis, alas, is gone, she'll never come to Amyntas,  
Never again come back, for Death and Destiny stay her,  
Stay her among those groves and darksome dens of Avernus,  
Where's no path to return, no starting hole to be scaping;  
Destiny, Death, and Hell, and Cerberus horrible Hellhound,  
Loathsome streams of Styx, that nine times compass Avernus,  
Stay her amongst those Hags in dungeons ugly for ever:  
Only the name and fame, and her most happy remembrance  
Still shall abide, shall live, shall flourish freely for ever.  
Thus did Amyntas plain, and then came faintily homeward.   

The fifth day.  
SInce Phillis burial with due celebration ended,  
Phoebus again advanced his blazing face fro the maine-sea,  
And with morning star dispelling night fro the heavens,  
Quickly the fifth time brought broad daylight unto Amyntas:  
But yet Phillis in heart, in mind, and fowl of Amyntas  
Still did abide, and still was Phillis mourned of Amyntas.  
No care of driving his kydds and goats to the mountains,  
No care of following his sheep and lambs to the pastures,  
But daye-light loathing, and days work wont abhorring,  
Strait to the woods doth he walk, in no man's company walking,  
Where he the weeping flower making all weary by weeping,  
Untuned speeches cast out, and desperate outcries.  
Where with sighs, to the winds, with tears, increase to the waters  
Still did he give, and still vain love most vainly bewailed.  
As loving Turtle seeing his lately beloved  
turtle-dove thrown down from a tree with a stone or an arrow,  
Can not abide Sunbeams, but flies fro the fields, fro the meadows,  
Unto the darkest woods, and there, his desolate harbour  
Makes in a Cypress tree, with lightning all to be scorched,  
Or with Winter's rage and black storms foully defaced:  
Where, on a rotten bow his limbs all heavy reposing,  
Still doth he groan for grief, still mourn for his only beloved:  
Then consumed with grievous pangs, and weary with anguish,  
Down to the ground doth he fall with fainting wings fro the bare bow,  
Beating dust with wings, and feathers foully beraying,  
Beating breast with beck, till blood come freshly abounding:  
So did Amyntas mourn, such true-love made him a mourner.  
O what a vile boy's this, what a grievous wound, what a weapon?  
O what a dart is this that sticks so fast to my heart root,  
Like as a root to the trunk, or like as a vine to the elm tree?  
O pityles loves-god, poor Lovers how be we plagued?  
O strong dart of Love, which each thing speedily pierceth.  
This dart God Saturn, God Mars, and great God of all Gods  
jove himself did wound unless that fame do belly them:  
Although God Saturn were old, and like to a crushed crab,  
Although Mars were armed with tried Vulcanian armour,  
Although jove with fire and thunder maketh a rumbling.  
Yea thine own mother, thine own invincible arrow  
Hurt, and pricked those paps which thou wast wont to be sucking,  
Neither sparest thou him that reigns in watery kingdom,  
Neither sparest thou him that rules in fearful Avernus:  
Pluto knows what it is, with a paltry Boy to be troubled,  
Neptune knows what it is, by a blind boys check to be mated:  
Then since heavens, seas, and hells are nought by thee spared,  
Earth and earth-dwelling lovers must look to be pinched.  
O what gaping earth will Amyntas greedily swallow?  
O what gulf of seas and deeps will quickly devour him,  
And bring him living to the deadmen's sowls in Avernus?  
God of skies (for love hath pierced oft up to the heavens)  
If pity move your hearts, if you from stately Olympus  
Can vouchsafe to behold these inward wounds of Amyntas,  
Free this troubled soul from cares and infinite anguish,  
End these endless toils, bring ease by my death to my deaths-wound.  
O that I had then died, when Phillis lived with Amyntas,  
In fyelds, when Phillis sang songs of love with Amyntas,  
In fyelds, when Phillis kissed and embraced Amyntas,  
In fyelds, when Phillis slept under a tree with Amyntas,  
Blest had Amyntas been, if death had taken Amyntas.  
So my Phillis might have sitten down by my deathbed,  
Closing these eye-lidds of dead, but blessed Amyntas,  
Blest, that he died in her arms, that his eyes were closed with her own hands.  
But what alas do I mean for death thus still to be wishing  
Fool that I am? for death comes quickly without any wishing.  
Inward grief of troubled soul hath brought me to deaths-dore,  
Wonted strength doth fail, my limbs are faynty with anguish;  
Vital heat is gone, like unto a smoke or a vapour,  
Yesterday but a boy, and now gray-headed Amyntas▪  
O luckless lovers, how always are we bewitched,  
What contrarieties, what fancies flatly repugnant,  
How-many lives, deaths, hopes, fears, joys, cares still do we suffer?  
O that I could forget Phillis many times am I wishing,  
O that I had died for Phillis many times am I wishing,  
Thus distracted I am ten thousand times by my wishing,  
Like to a ship, through whirling gulfs unsteedyly passing,  
Floating here and there, hence thence, with danger on each side,  
Fearing Scylides jaws, and mouth of greedy Charybdis,  
Whilst by the rage of sea, bruysde ship sticks fast to the quyck-sands,  
And by the mighty rebounding waves is last devoured.  
But what alas do I mean mine old love still to be mourning,  
Forgetting pastures, and flocks, and vines by my mourning?  
My naked pastures with floods are like to be drowned,  
My fyelds untilled with thorns are like to be pestered,  
My poor Sheep and Goats with could are like to be pinched,  
My pretty black bullock will come no more to my white cow,  
And by the swine's fowl snout my vines are like to be rooted,  
For want of walling, for want of customed hedging.  
Rank bows in vinetree there's nobody now to be cutting,  
cut bows with withy twigs there's nobody now to be binding,  
Pecking Pies from grapes there's nobody now to be keeping.  
You rocks, help me to mourn; rocks, pinetrees loftyly bearing,  
You woods, help me to mourn; woods always wont to be silent,  
You wells, help me to mourn; wells clear and like to the Crystal.  
Vines forlorn, forsaken shrubs, lament with Amyntas.  
On you rocks many times Phillis was wont to be walking,  
In you woods many times Phillis was wont to be sitting,  
With you wells many times Phillis was wont to be smile.  
And you vines and shrubs Phillis was wont to be fingering.  
Now 'twas just dark night, and home came silly Amyntas.   

The sixth day.  
SInce Phillis burial, sixtymes sprang light fro the Mountains.  
Six times had Titan brought back his coach fro the mayn-sea,  
And flying horses with-salt waves all to be dashed,  
With puft-up nostrils great fire flames lustily breathing.  
When to the wild woods went careless, yet careful Amyntas,  
Leaving flock in fold, no creatures company keeping,  
Beating breast with fist, with tears face foully defacing,  
Filling ways as he went with such and soemany wailings,  
As were sometimes made by the sweet Rhodopeïan Orpheus,  
When by the rocks of Thrace, by the fatal water of Haebrus,  
His sweet Eurydice with most sweet voice he bewailed,  
When sweet voice, sweet harp joined most sweetly together,  
Made both birds and beasts, both stocks and stones to be mourning.  
Every beast in field wisheth daylight to be coming,  
Morning star by the birds in fylds is sweetly saluted,  
As soon as she gins by the break of day to be peeping;  
Every beast in field wisheth dark night to be coming,  
Evening star to the kydds well fed, comes heartily welcome,  
As soon as she begins by the night's approach to be shining,  
Neither day nor night can please displeased Amyntas,  
All day long do I mourn, and all night long am I plaining,  
No day's free fro my plaints, and no night's free fro my mourning.  
Whosoe thinks it strange, that thus tormented Amyntas  
Can thus long endure, who thinks it strange, that Amyntas  
lives, yet takes no rest, but still hus, still to be dying;  
This man knows not alas, that love is daily triumphant,  
Love can abide no law, love always loves to be lawless,  
Love altereth nature, rules reason, maystreth Olympus.  
Laws, edicts, decrees: contemns jove mightily thundering,  
jove, that rules and reigns, with a beck that bendeth Olympus.  
Love caused Hippolytus with bryr's and thorns to be mangled,  
For that he had fowl love of lusting Phaedra refused.  
love made Absyrtus with sisters hands to be murdered,  
And in pieces torn, and here and there to be scattered.  
love forced Pasiphae man's company long to be loathing,  
And, for a white Bull's flesh, Bull's company long to be lusting.  
Love and luring looks of lovely Polixena, caused  
Greekish Achilles death, when he came to the Church to be wedded.  
love made Alcides, that great invincible Heros,  
Master of all monsters, at length to be whipped by a Mistress.  
love drowned Laeander swimming to the beautiful Hero,  
Unto the town Cestos from town of cursed Abydos.  
love made love, that's ruler of earth and ruler of heaven,  
Like to a silly Shepherd, and like to the fruitful Echidna,  
Like to a fire, to a Swan, to a Shower, to a Bull, to an Eagle,  
Sometimes Amphitrion, sometimes Dyctinna resembling.  
But what need I to show this blind Boys surly behaviour,  
Lewd pranks, false policies, sly shifts, and wily devices,  
Murdering mind, hard heart, dead hand, bend bow, bloody arrows?  
Nobody knows better what bitter grief is abounding  
In loves lewd kingdom, than luckless lover Amyntas.  
Whether I go to the groaves, or whether I climb to the Mountains,  
Whether I walk by the banks, or whether I look to the fountains,  
Love still waits at an inch, and never leaves to be pinching,  
Every thing complains, and answereth unto my playnyngs,  
Every thing geus cause and fresh increase to my mournings.  
If that I mourn in woods, these woods seem all to be mourning,  
And broadebrauncht oak trees their upright tops to be bowing.  
If that I sigh or sob, this pine-tree strait by the shaking,  
This pearese pine-tree for company seems to be pining,  
As though himself felt th'enduring pangs of Amyntas.  
And that bird o! Thrace, my woeful company keeping,  
Cries and calls for Itys, with monstrous villainy murdered,  
Murdered alas by the merciless heart and hands of a Mother,  
Eaten alas by the cursed mouth and teeth of a father.  
And poor turtle-dove, her mates good company missing,  
Sits on a naked bow, and keeps me company mourning.  
When that I climb to the ragged rocks, & creep to the Mountains,  
Staying feeble knees with a staff, for fear of a falling,  
If that I then curse death, and rail on destiny fatal,  
For marring that face, those cheeks, those ivory fingers  
Of my sweet Phillis; Phillis comes back with an Echo,  
Echo returns Phillis, five times fro the rocks, fro the Mountains.  
Every beast which hears these woeful plaints of Amyntas  
Comes and sets him down twixt legs of woeful Amyntas,  
Sustring back to be stroked with staff of mournful Amyntas:  
As that good Lioness, which first was cured by a Roman,  
In Roman theatre gave life for life to the Roman.  
O, if such pity were in Destiny noe-pyty-taking,  
Phillis I should not miss, nor Phillis miss of Amyntas.  
If that I come to the banks, and cast mine eyes to the waters,  
Waters augmented by these my watery fountains,  
Then these fowle-mouthed frogs with jarring tunes do molest me:  
So that I am compelled with bowing knees to be praying,  
Praying unto the Nymphs in bowers of water abiding,  
That they would vouchsafe to receive my carcase among them,  
And fro the sight of man, fro the light of sun to remove it,  
As that loved Hylas they sometimes fryendly received.  
But yet I wish in vain, and nought can I get by my wishing,  
And of my wishing these lewd winds make but a whistling,  
So noething contents poor malcontented Amyntas,  
Clogged with an heap of cares, and closed in a hell full of horror.  
Then to his homely Cabin, by the moon light hasted Amyntas.   

The seventh day.  
Fix nights now were past, and seu'nth day hastened onward,  
When, with fretting cares all spent and wasted Amyntas,  
Went to the wood starkwood with great extremyty weeping,  
And to the dull deaff winds his late loss freshly bewailing.  
O how much this Amyntas is altered from that Amyntas,  
Which was wont to be captain of every company rural?  
Noething nimble I am with willow staff to be threshing,  
Nor with toothed rake round hey-cocks for to be making.  
Noething nimble I am my branched vines to be cutting,  
Nor with sharp-edged suck my fruitful soil to be ploughing.  
Noething nimble I am my scabbed Sheep to be curing,  
Nor with leapping lads, with tripping trulls to be dancing.  
Noething nimble I am sweetete rhymes and songs to be making,  
Nor sweet songs and rhymes on pleasant pipe to be playing.  
My sense is dulled, my strength extremely decayed,  
Since that fair Phillis my love did leave me for ever,  
Who was worthy to live, and worthy to love me for ever.  
Phillis, fair Phillis, thou darling dear of Amyntas,  
What lass durst compare with darling dear of Amyntas  
For wit, for learning for face, for seemly behaviour?  
My sweet lass Phillis was noemore like to the graygownes,  
And country milkmaid, than Nightingale to the Lapwing,  
Rose to the green willow, or silver Swan to the Swallow.  
Phillis amidst fair maids did fair maids company countenance,  
As ripe corn doth fyelds, as clustered grapes do the vinetrees,  
As stout Bulls do the droves, as bay leaves beautify gardens.  
Phillis name and fame, which is yet freshly remembered,  
Passed abroad so far, so far surpassed Amaryllis,  
As that it yrckt and grieved disdanigeful proud Amaryllis,  
Who still thought herself for beauties praise to be peerless:  
But let her heart full of hate still pine, let her eyes full of envy  
Still be resolved in tears, Phillis surmounts Amaryllis,  
Phillis dead is alive, and so shall live to the world's end,  
Phillis praise shall scape from death and grave to the world's end.  
But what avayls it alas, dead Phillis now to be praising?  
Phillis alas is dead, it's too late now to be praising,  
And to renew old thoughts and fond conceits by my praising.  
Better it is to be low, and never climb to a kingdom,  
Than fro the sceptre again to be tumbled down to the dunghill.  
For what avails it now, that Phillis lulled Amyntas  
Lulled him a sleep in her arms, and slept herself with Amyntas,  
Under a cooling shade from scorching beams to defend us,  
Which sight made Aeglon, and Mopsus teeth to be watery?  
Or what avayls it now t'have gathered jointly together  
Fragrant herbs and flowers by the mantled fyelds, by the meadows,  
Daffadil, and Endyve, with mourning flower Hyacinthus,  
Thyme, Casia, Violets, Lilies, and sweet pretty Roses,  
For Nymphs and wood-gods gay garlands duly preparing?  
Or what auayl's it now, t'have plucked at Strawberry brambles,  
Blackbery bryr's t'have spoiled, t'have bared Mulberry branches,  
With such country fruit our basketts heavily loading?  
Or what avayls it now, t'have geu'n her soemany kisses?  
Or t'have taken again in like sort soemany kisses?  
Or what auayl's it now, t'have drawn our talk to the eu'nyng?  
Or t'have made our names with boxtree bark to be growing,  
Names and vows which nought but death could cause to be broken?  
Woeful wretch that I am, Phillis sorsaks me, for all this,  
And forsaken of her, death hath possessed me, for all this.  
And yet I am not sick (unless that love be a sickness)  
But death comes creeping, and lingering life is a flitting,  
And this differing of death is worse than a dying.  
Lingering fire by degrees hath spent and wasted Amyntas,  
As Meleager of old, whose life was left in a firebrand,  
firebrand cast to the fire by the murdering hands of a mother,  
When fatal firebrand burning did burn Meleager.  
Every day do I weep and every hour am I wailing,  
Every hour and day dismal to the wretched Amyntas,  
Yea much more wretched, than that poor silly Prometheus,  
Who, for his aspiring, for stealing fire from Olympus,  
Was by the God's decrees, fast bound with chains to the mountain  
Caucasus, huge and cold, where he's compelled an Eagle,  
Eagle still feeding, with his own heart still to be feeding.  
O Pan, o Fauni, that love with maids to be lively,  
Leave your pipes, your songs, your dance, leave of to be lively,  
join your tears with Amyntas tears, and mourn with Amyntas,  
And mourn for Phillis, for Phillis leaveth Amyntas.  
Phillis for your sake fine wafers duly prepared,  
Phillis pleased your eyes, whilst Phillis dayntyly danced.  
Phillis amidst fair maids was deemed still to be fairest,  
And gave grace to the rest with her eyes and comely behaviour,  
As fair laurel trees be adorned with beautiful ivy,  
As fine gold is adorned by the shining light o a jasper.  
Since death of Phillis, no joys enjoyeth Amyntas,  
Every good thing's gone, Phillis took every good thing,  
Country soil laments, and Contreymen be a weeping.  
And thou garden green now power forth plaints with Amyntas,  
Phillis thy sweet banks and beds did water at eu'nyng,  
Phillis amidst thy flowers always was wont to be walking;  
But now no walking, but now no water at evening,  
Now best flower is dead, now Phillis gone fro the garden.  
And you Crystal springs with streams of silver abounding,  
Where fair Phillis saw fair Phillis face to be shining,  
power forth floods of tears from those your watery fountains.  
Phillis will noemore see Phillis sit by the fountains,  
Phillis will noemore her lips apply to the fountains,  
Lips, to be joined to the lips of jove that ruleth Olympus.  
And you darksome dales and woods aye wont to be silent,  
Where she amidst the Shepherds and toiling boisterus Herdsmen  
Her milk-white shee-goats many times was wont to be feeding,  
Lament and mourn for this Nymphs untimely departure.  
But Pan, and Fauni, but garden green of Amyntas,  
But you springs and dales, and woods ay wont to be silent,  
Leave of your mourning, i'll give you leave to be silent,  
Leave to be silent still, give you me leave to be mourning,  
Leave to be mourning still, let this most heavy departure  
This death of Phillis bring wished death to Amyntas,  
Here did he pause for a while, and home at night he returned.   

The eight day.  
NOw since fair Phillis was chested duly, the eighth time  
Night gave place to the light, and evening unto the morning:  
When to the woods so wild, to the wild beasts dangerous harbours,  
Forsaking high ways, by the buy ways passed Amyntas:  
And there sets him down all wearied under a Myrtle,  
For grief still groaning, with deep sighs heavily panting,  
Still Phillis naming, still Phillis fayntyly calling.  
And must one wench thus take all the delight fro the country?  
And must one wench thus make every man to be mourning,  
Every man whose flocks on these hills use to be feeding?  
And must Aeglon weep? and must that fryendly Menalcas  
Wear his mourning robe, for death of my bony Phillis?  
And must good Corydon lament? must Tityrus alter  
His pleasant melodies, for death of my bony Phillis?  
And must Damaetas for grief leave of to be loving?  
Must Amaryllis leave, for death of my bony Phillis?  
And must drooping bull consume as he goes by the meadow,  
Must Sheep look lowering for death of my bony Phillis?  
And must sighs seem winds, must tears seem watery fountains?  
And must each thing change for death of my bony Phillis?  
O then what shall I do for death of my bony Phillis?  
Sith that I loved bony lass Phillis more dearly than all these,  
Sith that I loved her more than I love these eyes of Amyntas,  
O then what shall I do forlorn forsaken Amyntas,  
What shall I do but die, for death of my bony Phillis?  
Phillis who was wont with bow and shafts to be shooting,  
Phillis who was wont my flock with care to be feeding,  
Phillis who was wont my mylch shee-goates to be milking,  
Phillis who was wont (most handsome wench of a thousand)  
Either clouted cream, or cakes, or curds to be making,  
Either fine baskets of bulrush for to be framing,  
Or by the green meadows gay dancing dames to be leading:  
Phillis whose bosom filberts did love to be filling,  
Phillis for whose sake green laurel loved to be bowing,  
Phillis, alas, sweet Lass Phillis, this brave bony Phillis,  
Is dead, is buried, makes all good company parted.  
O how oft Phillis conferred in fields with Amyntas?  
O how oft Phillis did sing in caves with Amyntas,  
joining her sweet voice to the oaten pipe of Amyntas?  
O how oft Phillis clipped and embraced Amyntas?  
How many thousand times hath Phillis kissed Amyntas,  
Bitten Amyntas lips, and bitten again of Amyntas,  
So that Amyntas his eyes enuy'de these lips of Amyntas?  
O sweet soul Phillis, w'have lived and loved for a great while,  
(If that a man may keep any mortal joy for a great while)  
Like loving turtles, and turtle-doves for a great while,  
One love, one liking, one sense, one soul for a great while,  
Therefore one deaths-wound, one grave, one funeral only  
Should have joined in one both love and lover Amyntas.  
O good God, what a grief is this that death to remember?  
For, such grace, gesture, face, feature, beauty, behaviour  
Never afore was seen, is never again to be looked for.  
O frowning fortune, o death and destiny dismal;  
Thus be the poplar trees that spread their tops to the heavens,  
Of their flowering leaves despoilded in an hour, in a moment:  
Thus be the sweet violets, that gave such grace to the garden,  
Of their purpled robes despoilded in an hour, in a moment.  
O how oft did I cry, and roar with an horrible howling,  
When for want of breath Phillis lay faintyly gasping?  
O how oft did I wish, that Phoebus would fro my Phillis  
Drive that fever away, or send his son from Olympus,  
Who, when Lady Venus by a chance was pricked with a bramble,  
Healed her hand with his oils and fine knacks kept for a purpose?  
Or that I could perceive Podalyrius order in healing,  
Or that I could obtain medaea's exquisite ointments,  
And baths most precious, which old men freshly renewed:  
Or that I were as wise as was that crafty Prometheus,  
Who made pictures live with fire that he stole from Olympus,  
Thus did I call and cry, but nobody came to Amyntas:  
Then did I rail and rave, but nought did I get by my railing:  
Whilst that I called and cried, and raged, and raved as a madman,  
Phillis, alas, Phillis by the burning fits of a fever,  
Quickly before her day, her days unluckily ended.  
O dismal deaths-day, with black stone still to be noted,  
Wherein no Sun shined, no comfort came fro the heavens,  
Wherein clustered clouds had covered lightsome Olympus.  
Wherein no sweet bird could find any joy to be chirping,  
Wherein loathsome snakes from dens were loath to be creeping,  
Wherein fowl screech owls did make a detestable howling,  
And from chymney-top gave woeful signs of a mischif.  
O first day of death, last day of life to Amyntas,  
Which no day shall drive from soul and heart of Amyntas,  
Till Neptune dried up, withdraw his floods fro the fishes,  
And scaled fishes live naked along by the seashore.  
For since Phillis went and left forsaken Amyntas,  
joys and pleasures went, and left forsaken Amyntas:  
Perplexed speaking and vain thoughts only remained,  
Immoderate mourning, and mad love only remained.  
Thou jove omnipotent, which dost with mercy remember  
Mortal men's miseries, which know'st what it is to be loving:  
And thou God Phoebus, that sometimes dryu'n from Olympus,  
Feeding sheep didst love, help luckless Lover Amyntas  
Feeding his poor sheep, help poor man, young man Amyntas:  
Thou that abridgest breath, and makest our light to be darkness,  
Cut this thread of life, dispatch and bring me to darkness  
Infernal darkness, fit place for mourner Amyntas.  
So shall Amyntas walk and talk in darksome Avernus,  
So shall Amyntas love with Phillis again be renewed,  
In fields Elysian Phillis shall live with Amyntas.  
Thus do I wish and pray, this praying is but a prattling,  
And these wishing words but a blast, but a wind, but a whistling:  
Die then, Amyntas, die: for dead is thy bony Phillis.  
Phoebus' went to the sea: to the poor house hasted Amyntas.   

The ninth day.  
SInce Phillis burial, now fair Aurora the ninth time  
Showed her shining face, and Phoebus lightened Olympus:  
When, from couch all wet with tears, confounded Amyntas  
Raised his crazd carcase, with mind still abroad to be wandering  
Unto the wild beasts dens, and fearful unhospital harbours,  
Where was noething else, but certain death to be looked for.  
But whilst naked limbs with robes all ragged he covered,  
Oft did he call and cry for Phillis, for bony Phillis,  
With deep sighs and greanes still Phillis, Phillis, he called:  
And then dressed, up he gets, and gets himself to the desert,  
Desert dens, man's sight and Sun's light ever abhorring.  
There, by the woods wandering, and love unlucky bewailing,  
More and more did he feed that wont wound of a lover;  
Like as a trembling Hart, whose heart is pierced with an arrow,  
Runs, and yet running, his death still beareth about him,  
Runs to the thickest groaves, yet bleeds and sweats as he runneth,  
Runs, and so with toil and grief, death hasteneth onward:  
Then with tears doth he seek Dictamus flower by the desert,  
Seeks, but can not find Dictamus flower by the desert:  
Like to the trembling Hart, went heartless lover Amyntas;  
And thus again at length (his cheeks with water abounding)  
From sullen silence, abruptly began to be raging.  
Since Phillis locked up that starr-light lively for ever,  
Since fair Phillis slept that long sleep, what shall Amyntas  
Think, conceive, contrive, or what shall Amyntas imagine,  
What shall Amyntas do, that Amyntas go not a begging?  
For no care is of health, no care of wealth in Amyntas,  
No joy, no comfort, but Phillis abides in Amyntas.  
Who will fodder now in winter give to my bullocks?  
Who will now any more bring my white Bull to my Heifer?  
Who will goats and kids to the ragged rocks be a driving?  
Who will sheep and lambs from ravening wolves be defending?  
Who will look to my rams, and wash their fleece in a river?  
Who will anoint scabbed sheep, least-that contagius humour  
Once get strength, make way, and spoil whole flock of Amyntas?  
Who will let them blood, when raging fire of a fever  
Runneth along by the bones, and marrow quickly devoureth?  
Who will tender sheep drive up fro the fields, to the mountains,  
When deep brook (increased with rain or snow from Olympus)  
Drives down wont walls, and banks all beateth asunder,  
Overflowing fields, and pastures foully defacing?  
O poor flock, poor heard, o life and love of Amyntas,  
Phillis life and love is gone, o wretched Amyntas.  
Even as a Merchant man, who lost his ware by a shipwreck,  
And ship left on sands with blind rocks broken a sunder,  
Swim on a board staggering, with salt-waves all to be dashed,  
driv'n hence thence with winds, and knows no place to be landing,  
wandering here and there, and sees no stars to be shining:  
So twixt hope and fear, twixt life and death doth Amyntas  
Daily delay his days, yet death's wound beareth about him.  
For since Phillis alas in a dead sleep slipped from Amyntas,  
Inconstant, wandering, distracted, moydred Amyntas  
Rangeth alone by the rocks, by the woods, by the dens, by the deserts,  
Deserts, dens, and woods, and rocks, where nobody walketh,  
Nobody dare approach for fear of slippery serpents,  
And crawling adders with baleful poison abounding:  
And yet I cannot find, what I seek, what I look, what I long for,  
Phillis I mean, by the rocks, by the woods by the dens, by the deserts.  
Since that time, that time of grief and woe the beginning,  
Neither Sun by the day, nor Moon by the night did Amyntas  
Ever see sleeping though weak and weary by watching.  
And no food I desire, for I feed too fast on a fancy,  
Love fills fainty stomach, and every part of Amyntas:  
And I desire no drink, for I drink up watery fountains  
Fountains of salt tears still trickling, ever-abounding,  
Like showers in winter, driven down with winds from Olympus.  
O most mighty Pales, which still bar'st love to the country  
And poor countrey-folk, hast thou forgotten Amyntas  
Now when as other Gods have all forsaken Amyntas  
Thou on whose feast days Bonfires were made by Amyntas,  
And quite leapt over by the bouncing dancer Amyntas?  
Thou for whose feast days great cakes ordained Amyntas,  
Supping milk with cakes, and casting milk to the bonefyre?  
And thou surly Cupid, thou churlish dame Cytheraea,  
With, whose praise I did once, whilst Phillis abode with Amyntas,  
Make these fields to resound, make beasts and men to be wondering,  
On pitiful poor wretch is no care, no pity taken?  
What? shall I noething get for making soemany offerings,  
Soemany sweet perfumes, for saying soemany prayers,  
All with a garland green, with leaves of Myrtle adorned?  
Are Gods unthankful? can no grace come from Olympus?  
Are Gods unmindful? why then, what mean I to worship,  
Worship I know not what for a God, when it is but an Idol?  
For, no guerdon, alas, no good thing's left for a good man.  
Poor fool, what did I mean, on Gods or stars to be railing,  
As though stars or Gods could alter Destinies order?  
Poor, fool, what did I mean incessant tears to be shedding,  
Still to the hills, to the woods to the fields, to the floods to be wailing,  
Since these hills, these woods, these fields, these floods to my weeping  
Can lend no feeling, can afford no sense to my wailing?  
Yet will I call Phillis, though noebody come by my calling,  
And weep for Phillis, though noegood come by my weeping:  
Thus will I do: Many men, many minds; this pleaseth Amyntas.  
And yet I cannot abide any more by the woods to be ranging,  
And this living death, this dying life to be leading:  
Die then Amyntas, die, let Amyntas murder Amyntas;  
So shall that grim Sire, and fowle-faced Prince of avernus  
Some pity take, when he sees this wound of murdered Amyntas,  
This wound wide and large; and loss of graus but a small loss.  
So shall Amyntas walk, and Phillis walk with Amyntas  
Through those pleasant groaves, and flowering fields of Avernus.  
But yet again to his house with doubtful mind he returned.   

The tenth day.  
SInce that fatal day and hour unlucky, the tenth time  
Fair Aurora betimes by the days break, rose from her husband  
Husband old and cold, and drove dark clouds from Olympus,  
Making way to the Sun, taking her way to the younker  
Brave younker Shafalus, whom fair Aurora desired.  
Aeolus, of purpose Aurora's fancy to further,  
Sent forth sweet Zephyrus with tender breath to be blowing,  
And moist dew by the fields with whistling blast to be drying,  
Lest nights cold moisture might stay their lovely proceed,  
Stay brave Aeolides, stay fair Aurora fro kissing.  
Every thing did smile, woods, fields, air, watery fountains,  
Every Larck did sing, and made sweet mirth to the Morning,  
And cheerful Charites with gold-locks gaily bedecked,  
Danced along by the fields in due and gracius order;  
And th'unruly Satyrs by the sound of a paltry piper,  
Leapt and skipped by the woods in most lascivius order.  
Only Amyntas loathed these sports and these pretty pastimes▪  
Only Amyntas mourned, and old griefs only remembered,  
Leaving house and home, and deserts only frequenting,  
Scratching face with nails, and Phillis freshly bewailing.  
O what means Phillis? can Phillis cast of Amyntas?  
O consider, alas, consider careful Amyntas,  
And forget not, alas, forget not faithful Amyntas,  
Who for Phillis sake, for love and fancy to Phillis  
Bears this fire in his heart, and still this fire is a feeding.  
What means Phillis, alas, in those fair fields to be walking,  
〈◊〉 those Elysian fair fields, and leave me behind her?  
What's there noemore care of flock in Phillis abiding?  
What? noe care of love, no care of lover Amyntas?  
O unthankful wench, if this thing come by thy causing,  
And accursed Fate, if Destiny cause thee to leave me.  
See what a strange effect these cares have wrought in Amyntas▪  
Needles cares have driven all needful cares from Amyntas.  
No care, no comfort in driving goats to the mountains,  
When rising Phoebus displays his beams in a morning;  
No care, no comfort in bringing sheep to the sheepe-coates▪  
When sitting Phoebus withdraws his face in an evening.  
Rhymes are quite set aside, and seu'n-hoald pipe is abandoned,  
Rhymes that I played on pipe; pipe used at every dancing:  
Leather bottel's lost, and tarr-box broken asunder,  
shone and myttens gone, and sheephook cast in a corner,  
And little old Lightfoot hath lost his Master Amyntas  
Whose watchful barking made wolves afraid to be biting.  
See how Phillis death doth make my Goats to be dying:  
Noebody gives them Thyme and other flowers to be gnapping,  
Noebody gives them drink and water fresh to be sipping,  
Noebody brings them back to the sold, or shade to refresh them.  
See how Phillis death doth make my sheep to be dying,  
Whilst th'unlucky Shepherd neglects his sheep to be feeding,  
Lambs in woeful wise by the wolves are daily devoured,  
Ewes in loathsome sort with scabs are foully molested,  
And their wool with dust and dirt is filthily fouled.  
O but, alas, poor fool, whilst thou thus rail'st on Olympus,  
Phillis fair, perchance, in pleasant fields of Avernus  
Keepeth better goats, and better sheep is a feeding,  
Leaving this poor flock, and their poor master Amyntas.  
And must only my death cause endless plagues to be ended?  
And shall I never die, till time that Destiny pointed?  
O, what a life is this, with life and death to be striving?  
And yet I love this life, this strife, and every moment  
Reason yields to my rage, and rage gives place to my reason:  
And whilst breath shall abide in burning breast of Amyntas,  
Perpetual sobbing shall make these sides to be smarting,  
Perpetual plaining shall make this mouth to be sounding,  
Perpetual weeping shall make these eyes to be swelling.  
As soon as Titan with face all fiery returneth,  
With violent clamours great clouds will I cast on a cluster.  
As soon as dark night doth spread her mantle among us,  
With tears still trickling, I'll make springs ever abounding:  
What love's like to my rage, what fancy's like to my folly,  
That not a day, not an hour, not a moment scapeth Amyntas,  
But still Amyntas mourns, since Phillis grave was a making?  
That lewd Lord of Love drew my destruction onward,  
That boy bred my bane, my death untimely procured,  
When by the sight of a Lass, by the flaming eyes of a Virgin,  
Fire did pierce by my flesh, to my soul, to my bones, to my marrow,  
And there burns and boils like scalding sulphur of Aetna.  
Who would think thou Love couldst bear such hate to a lover?  
Or wouldst work such harm to a countryman that is harmless?  
But bloody boy thou art, thou bear'st bloody mind, bloody weapons.  
And thou most spiteful Nemesis, whose hasty revenging  
Hands are ever at hand, whose mind is mutable always,  
At miseries laughing, at men's felicity grudging,  
Why dared thou deal with, what didst thou mean to be meddling  
With loving Phillis, with Phillis Lover Amyntas?  
If that Phillis I kissed, or Phillis kissed Amyntas,  
If that Phillis I clipped, or Phillis clipped Amyntas,  
If that I spent many hours in talking under a Myrtle,  
Wast any great offence, any great disgrace to a goddess?  
We were country folk, twooe seeliest souls of a thousand;  
Those golden Diadems, that state of a King or a Kingdom  
More fit for Nemesis: Phillis more fit for Amyntas:  
Who would think thou couldst on beggars thus be triumphing?  
Why should silly Shepherds be molested thus by a Goddess?  
Nay godless Nemesis: for thou dost noebody goodness,  
And where's no goodness, who thinks there can be a Goddess?  
And thou most hellish Lachesis, more fierce than a Fury,  
What reason foundst thou such mischif for to be working,  
That by the griping pains, by the cold-hoate fits of an ague,  
Phillis fit for a man, should die thus afore she be fitted?  
O why shouldst thou take all comfort quite fro the country,  
And make countrymen thus comfortless to be mourning?  
Can not that sweet face, nor that most seemly behaviour,  
Nor that league of love still lasting lead thee to mercy?  
But thy delight is death, and blood thou only desirest,  
Therefore bring me to death, take living blood from Amyntas,  
For my delight is death, death only desireth Amyntas,  
And to procure quick death, it's fully resolved by Amyntas,  
That fair Phillis again may love her lover Amyntas.  
And yet about evening with staggering steps he retired.   

The eleventh day.  
NOw th'eleventh day from death of Phillis approached,  
Which to the former rage that long possessed Amyntas,  
Dogged new conceits with more resolution added.  
And shall I stay, qd he, now? shall I wait for greater abundance  
Of sowle-tormenting horrors? shall I still be a dying,  
And yet living still? Did I thrust my breast on a pointed  
Dart, when Phillis lived, though Phillis fled from Amyntas?  
Yea, did an untrue tale, did a hearsay work in Amyntas  
So, that he threw himself fro the hill top desperate, headlong,  
Hearing Phillis death by Fulvia falsely reported?  
And shall Amyntas now, when he knows, when he sees, when he looks on,  
Looks on Phillis alas, and see's her fayntyly gasping,  
Looks, and sees her alas, her last, last breath to be yielding,  
Looks, and sees those eyes with father's hands to be closed,  
(Eyes by Amyntas his hands more worthily for to be closed)  
Looks, and sees, (dead sight) her sacred face to be covered,  
And corpse embalmed; shall he now, now fear to be dying?  
Daphne stayed darts-wound, and caused it, not to be deaths-wound,  
Destiny made downfall for that time not to be mortal;  
But neither Daphne, nor cursed Destiny henceforth  
Shall withdraw this knife from bleeding breast of Amyntas.  
If Daphne could not, nor cursed Destiny would not  
Keep Phillis from death; why should they keep me fro Phillis?  
Once it was my chance my naked lovely Diana  
For to behold by the well; but alas my lovely Diana  
Her poor Actaeon's true love unkindly requited,  
And freed Phillis did fly from freer Amyntas.  
Afterwards, forsooth, our wedding day was appointed;  
Apples touched my chin, to my lips streams lovely approached;  
But when Tantalus hoapte his fruit and streams to be tutching,  
Apples fled fro my chin, fro my lips streams lovely retired,  
Bridal by burial was most untimely prevented.  
Now, if worse do remain, let come, let come to Amyntas  
Ere that Amyntas die, for he means noemore to be trifling,  
But this self-sacrifice to the sweetest Saint to be offering.  
Go poor Sheep and Kydds, sometime the delight of Amyntas,  
Seek now somewhere else both boughs and grass to refresh you,  
Make your way by the fyelds, and never stay for Amyntas,  
Lodge your selves at night, and never look for Amyntas:  
Some pitiful goodman will take compassion on you,  
And feed you wandering, and bring you home by the eu'nyng:  
Now shall I never more your horns with flowers be adorning,  
Now shall I never more yourselus to the fyelds be a driving,  
Now shall I never more see you creep up to the Mountains,  
Now shall I never more sit down and sing in a valley.  
Think it no strange thing if Woolus do chance to devour you,  
Sith that Wolves are like to devour your master Amyntas,  
Unless some good man this carcase chance to be covering.  
Go poor loving dog old Lightfoot, seek thee a master.  
Get thee a new master, since thine old master Amyntas  
Gets him another dog, fowl Cerberus horrible hellhound.  
Now shall I never more give Lightfoot bones to be gnawing,  
Now shall I never more cause Lightfoot glooves to be fetching:  
If, for thy feeding from a whelp, thou mean to be thankful,  
Then keep ravening Woolus from wounded corpse of Amyntas.  
Pipe, fit for merriment, unfit for mourner Amyntas,  
Hang on this myrtle, till good luck send the a master,  
More blessed master, than ten-times cursed Amyntas.  
Roses fair and red, which Phillis loved to be wearing,  
Keep still fair and red, keep fresh and lovely for ever,  
My red blood shall still give new supply to the redness.  
Yuychurch farewell; farewell fair pembrokiana's  
Park and loved lawns; and, if fair Pembrokiana  
Scorn not my farewell, farewell fair Pembrokiana.  
Hills and dales farewell, you pleasant walks of Amyntas,  
Floods and wells farewell, sweet looking glass of Amyntas.  
Now shall I never more my sorrows utter among you,  
Now shall I never more with clamours vainly molest you.  
Handkerchief farewell, sweet work of my bony Phillis,  
Handkerchief many times made moist with tears of Amyntas,  
Now shall thy Gelyflowrs; which wanted nought but a redness,  
Prove perfect Gelyflowres; my blood shall give them a redness,  
So shall Phillis work in part be the work of Amyntas.  
heart of gold, farewell, which Phillis gave to Amyntas,  
Sign of a loving heart, which grieves my heart to be leaving:  
And would never leave, unless that I meant in a moment,  
This my living heart, and heart of gold to be leaving.  
Wedding ring, farewell, she's gone, whose ivory finger  
Should have been thy grace: full well did I cause to be graven  
In thy golden round, those words as true as a Gospel,  
Love is a bitter-sweet, fit words for bitter Amyntas.  
Farewell knife at last, whose point engraved in a thousand  
Barcks of trees that name, sweet name of my bony Phillis,  
And hard by that name▪ this name of Lover Amyntas:  
So that in every ash, these names stood, Phillis Amyntas,  
And each Beech-tree bark, bore these names, Phillis Amyntas:  
Pastors daily did ask, what folk are, Phillis Amyntas?  
Nymphs did daily demand, who wrote this, Phillis Amyntas?  
But now, loved knife, thy pain is somewhat abridged,  
Now writ Phillis alone, and noemore, Phillis Amyntas:  
Now writ Phillis alone, but let not an ash, or a beech-tree  
Bear so blessed a name, which only belongs to Amyntas:  
My breast shallbe the bark, writ Phillis name in Amyntas:  
And since sharpened point shall find so tender a subject,  
Strike, engrave, cut, launse, spare not to be mightily wounding▪  
Let fair Phillis name to the eyes of lovely beholders  
With blood-red letters in Amyntas his heart be apearing.  
Yet this murdering stroke to an other time he referred.   

The twelfth day.  
ANd now since Phillis dead corpse was laid in a coffin  
Twelfth day came at last, when weak, yet wakeful Amyntas  
Spied through tiles of his house fair Phoebus' beams to be shining▪  
Which when he saw, then in haste himself he began to be stirring,  
And with trembling knees, with mind extremely molested;  
Passed along to the fyelds where grave of Phillis appeared,  
Meaning there to the grave, to the ghost, to the scattered ashes  
His last lamenting in woeful wise to be making.  
But when he saw fresh flowers and new grass speedily start up,  
And Phillis sweet name ingrau'n by the hand of Amyntas,  
Then did he stay, and weep, with an inward horror amazed:  
And at length his knees on grave there fantyly bowing,  
With dolorous groanings his fatal hour he bewailed.  
This day, this same day, most blessed day of a thousand,  
Shall be the first of joy, and last of annoy to Amyntas,  
This shall bring me myself to myself, and bring me to Phillis.  
Let neither father nor mother mourn for Amyntas,  
Let neither kinsman, nor neighbour weep for Amyntas,  
For Venus, only Venus doth lay this death on Amyntas,  
And Phillis sweet soul in fair fyelds stays for Amyntas.  
If you needs will show some sign of love to Amyntas,  
Then when life is gone, close up these eyes of Amyntas,  
And with Phillis corpse lay this dead corpse of Amyntas,  
This shall Phillis please, and Phillis lover Amyntas.  
And thou good Thyrsis, drive forth those Sheep of Amyntas,  
Lest that Amyntas Sheep die with their master Amyntas.  
And thou good Daphne, when so thou gang'st to the Mountains,  
drive on Phillis Goats, fair Phillis Goats to the Mountains;  
For now, now at length, i'll leave this life for a better,  
And seek for mending in a most unnatural ending.  
Must then Amyntas thus but a stripling murder Amyntas?  
O what an imperious princess is Queen Cytheraea?  
For, stil-watching love would never let me be resting,  
Nor never sleeping since Phillis went from Amyntas.  
And no longer I can sustain these infinite horrors  
And pangs incessant, which now are freshly renewed  
And much augmented; therefore am I fully resolved  
Of lingering loves wound to be speedily cured by a deaths-wound.  
Thus when he had contrived in his heart this desperate outrage,  
And meant fully to die, with an hellish fury bewitched,  
What do I stay, qd he, now? 'tis loss of time to be lingering:  
Then with a fatal knife in a murdering hand, to the heavens  
Up did he look for a while, and groaned with a deadly resounding,  
With these words his life and lamentation ending.  
Gods and ghosts forgive, forget this fault of Amyntas,  
Pardon I crave of both, this knife shall bring me to Phillis,  
And end these miseries, though destiny flatly deny it.  
Even as he spoke these words, down fell deep-wounded Amyntas,  
Fowling hands and ground with streams of blood that abounded.  
And good-natured ground pytying this fall of Amyntas,  
In most loving wise, very gently received Amyntas,  
And when he fell, by the fall, in mournful sort, she resounded.  
jupiter in meantime, and th'other Gods of Olympus,  
When they saw this case (though great things were then in handling)  
Yet lamented much, and then decreed, that Amyntas  
Sowle should go to the fyelds where blessed Phillis abideth,  
And bloody corpse should take both name and form of a fair flower  
Called Amaranthus then, for Amyntas fryendly remembrance.  
Whilst these things by the Gods were thus decreed in Olympus,  
Senses were all weak, and almost gone from Amyntas,  
Eyes were quite sightles, deaths-pangs and horror approached.  
Then with his head half up, most heavily groaned Amyntas,  
And as he groaned, than he felt his feet to the ground to be rooted,  
And seeking for a foot could find no foot to be sought for,  
For both legs and trunk to a stalk were speedily changed,  
And that his old marrow to a cold juice quickly resolved,  
And by the fame could juice this stalk still lively appeared.  
Which strange change when he felt, than he lifted his arms to the heavens,  
And, when he lifted his arms, than his arms were made to be branches;  
And now face and hair of Amyntas lastly remained;  
O what mean you Gods to prolong this life of Amyntas?  
O what mean you Gods? with an hollow sound he repeated,  
Until his hollow sound with a stalk was speedily stopped,  
And fair face and hair bare form and shape of a fair flower,  
Flower with fair red leaves, fair red blood gave the beginning.  
Then with bow and shafts, and painted quiver about him,  
uprose Lord of love from princelike seat in Olympus,  
And, when 'twas too late, laments this loss of a lover,  
Speaking thus to the Gods of this new flower of Amyntas.  
Myrtle's due to Venus, green laurel's dear to Apollo,  
Corn to the Lady Ceres, and vines to the young merry Bacchus,  
But thou fair Amaranthus, gentlest flower of a thousand,  
Shalt be my flower henceforth, and though thou camest from a bleeding,  
Yet blood shalt thou staunch, this guyft will I give the for ever:  
And by the pleasant park where gentlemynded Amyntas  
Lately bewailed his love, there thy leaves lowly for ever,  
Boys and gyrls and Nymphs, shall take a delight to be plucking,  
Take a delight of them their garlands gay to be making.  
And now in mean time whilst these things were thus a working,  
Good loving neighbours for a long time missed Amyntas,  
And by the caves of beasts, by the dungeons dark, by the deserts,  
And by the hills and dales, by the wells and watery fountains,  
Sought for Amyntas long, but never met with Amyntas.  
Down in a dale at last, where trees of state, by the pleasant  
Yuychurches' park, make all to be sole, to be silent,  
Down in a desert dale, Amaryllis found Amaranthus,  
(Nymph, that, Amyntas loved, yet was not loved of Amyntas)  
Found Amaranthus fair, seeking for fairer Amyntas;  
And with fair new flower fair Pembrokiana presented.  
Who, by a straight edict, commanded yearly for ever  
Yuychurches Nymphs and Pastors all to be present,  
All, on that same day, in that same place to be present,  
All, Amaranthus flower in garlands then to be wearing,  
And all, by all means Amaranthus flower to be praising,  
And all, by all means his Amyntas death to be mourning.  
Yea, for a just monyment of tender-mynded Amyntas,  
With new found titles, new day, new dale she adorned,  
Called that, Amyntas Day, for love of lover Amyntas,  
Called this, Amyntas' Dale, for a name and same to Amyntas.  
FINIS.    

The Lamentation of Corydon, for the love of Alexis, verse for verse out of Latin.  
SIlly Shepherd Corydon loved heartily fair lad Alexis  
His master's darling, but saw no matter of hoping;  
Only amidst dark groves thickset with broade-shadoe beech-trees  
Daily resort did he make, thus alone to the woods, to the mountains,  
With broken speeches fond thoughts there vainly revealing.  
O hard-hearted Alexis, I see my verse to be scorned,  
Myself not pitied, my death by thee lastly procured.  
Now do the beasts even seek for cooling shade to refresh them,  
And now green lizards in bushes thorny be lurking,  
And, for faint reapers by the sun's rage, Thestilis hastening,  
Strong-smelling wild time and garlyck, beats in a mortar:  
But whilst scorched Corydon doth trace his lovely Alexis,  
Groaves by the hoarce-chirping Grasshoppers yield a resownding.  
Wast not far better t'have borne with surly Menalcas,  
And sore displeased, disdaigneful, proud Amaryllis,  
Although thou white were, although but swarthy Menalcas?  
O thou fair white Boy, trust not too much to thy whiteness:  
Fair white flowers fall down, black fruits are duly reserved.  
Thou carest not for me: my state thou know'st not Alexis,  
What flocks of white Sheep I do keep, of milk what abundance▪  
On Sicil high Mountains my Lambs feed more than a thousand;  
New milk in summer, new milk in winter I want not:  
My songs like Theban Amphion's song, when he called  
His wandering bullocks on Greekish mount Aracynthus.  
Nor so fowl be my looks; for I saw myself by the seashore,  
When seas all calm were: I'll o'ercome Daphnis, I doubt not,  
Even by thy own judgement, unless my face do deceive me.  
O let this be thy will, to frequent my rustical harbours,  
And simple cottages, sticking in forcks to uphold them,  
And drive on forward our flock of Kids to the mallows.  
We will amidst wild woods contend Pan's song to resemble;  
Pan was first that quills with wax tied jointly together,  
Pan is good to the sheep, and Pan is good to the sheepesman.  
Neither think it a shame to thyself t'have played on a corne-pipe▪  
For, that he might do the same with skill, what did not Amyntas?  
Damaetas long since did give me a pipe for a token,  
Compact of seven reeds all placed in order unaequall:  
And thus said when he died; one used it only before thee:  
Thus said Damaetas; this grieved foolish Amyntas.  
Also twooe pretty kids do I keep, late found in a valley  
Dangerus, and their skins with milk-white spots be bedecked,  
Of dams milk not a drop they leave, and for the I keep them:  
Thestilis of long time hath these kydds of me desired:  
And they shall be her own, for that thou scornest what I give thee.  
Come near, o fair boy; lo, Nymphs here bring thee the Lilies  
With full stuffed baskets, fair Naïs', lo, to thy comfort  
White Violets gathering, and Poppies daintily topping,  
Daffadil adds to the same, and leaves late plucked fro the sweet Dill:  
Then mingling Casia, with divers savoury sweet flowers,  
With yellowish Marigold she the tender Crowto bedecketh.  
I'll pluck hoar Quinces with soft down daintily clothed,  
And Chessnutts which were loved of my sweet Amaryllis:  
Add will I wheat plumbs too, for this fruit will be regarded:  
And you, Laurel leaves, will I pluck, and next to the Laurel  
Leaves, I'll pluck Myrtle; for so placed, yield ye the sweet sent.  
thou'rt but a fool Corydon; for first, gifts move not Alexis,  
Then, though thou give much, yet much more give will Iolas.  
But what alas did I mean? I do let go madly the southwind  
Into the flowers, and boars send forward into the clear springs.  
Whom sli'st thou, fond boy? Many Gods have gladly resorted  
And Paris of Troy-towre, to the woods: let towers by Minerva  
Built, by Minerva be kept, and woods of us only regarded.  
Grim Lioness runneth to the Wolf, and Wolf to the yong-Goate,  
And wanton yong-Goate to the flowering Tetrifol hasteneth,  
And Coridon to Alexis; a self-ioy draweth on each man.  
But lo, Blow comes home hanged fast by the yoke to the bullocks,  
And shadow, by Phoebus' declining, double appeareth,  
Yet do I burn with love: for what mean can be to loving?  
Ah Coridon, Coridon, what mad rage hath thee bewitched?  
Thy vine's scarce half cut, pestered with leaves of her elmetree▪  
Leave this churlish boy; and bend thyself to thy business;  
With twigs and bulrush some needful thing be a making:  
Thou shalt find others, though thou'rt disdaigned of Alexis.  
FINIS.   

The beginning of Heliodorus his Aethiopical History.  
Assoon as Sunbeams could once peep out fro the mountain  
And by the dawn of day had somewhat lightened Olympus,  
Men, whose lust was law, whose life was still to be lusting,  
Whose thriving thieving, conveyed themselves to an hil-top,  
That stretched forward to the Heracleotical entry  
And mouth of Nilus: looking thence down to the maine-sea  
For seafaring men; but seeing none to be sailing,  
They knew 'twas bootless to be looking there for a booty:  
So that strait fro the sea they cast their eyes to the seashore;  
Where they saw, that a ship very strangely without any shipman  
Lay then alone at road, with cables tied to the maine-land,  
And yet full-fraighted, which they, though far, fro the hil-top,  
Easily might perceive by the water drawn to the deck-boords▪  
But men on every side lay scattered along by the seashore,  
Some dead, some dying, some whose corpse heavily panting  
showed a late fight, though no just cause of a fight:  
Only a man might guess, there had been some bloody banquet  
Which to the guests quaffing gave such unfortunate ending.  
For banks with tables, tables with dainty devices  
And delicate dishes were there well stored, amongst which  
Some served as weapons in this so desperate onset,  
Weapons with pale hands of deadmen greedily clasped:  
Some lay as cou'rings on such as fear had amazed,  
Cou'rings for faint hearts who thither seemed to be creeping,  
Cups were all thrown down; some fell fro the greedy carowsers  
Hands faint and feeble; some flew like stones fro the fingers  
Of them, who new shifts for deadlifts quickly preparing,  
Used ' bowls for bullets, and caused pots to be pellets.  
Of them, whose carcase lay mangled along by the sea-shoare,  
Some with fire were burnt, and some were bruised with a lever,  
Some with an axe were knocked, and some were hurt with a shellfish,  
With shells of sea-fish, by the seashore ever abounding,  
Some this way, some that; but most with feathered arrows.  
So blood brewed with wine, so buffets joined to the banquets,  
Killing with swilling and beating unto the eating,  
Caused a strange wonder to the thieves, who saw fro the hil-top  
Men killed, no killers; many dead, no conqueror extant,  
Victory, no spoiling, ship fraughted, yet not a shipman.  
But, notwithstanding for a time they stood thus amazed,  
Yet for greedy desire of gain they hastened onward  
And drew near to the place, where men lay all to bemangled,  
And ship-full-fraughted; thinking themselves to be victors.  
But, good God, what a sight, what a strange sight, yea, what a sweet fight,  
And yet a woeful sight, to the thieves unlookt-for appeared?  
There was a maid so made, as men might think her a Goddess,  
There was a sweete-faced maid, that sat on a rock by the seashore,  
Sat on a rock full sad to behold this desperate outrage,  
Sad, yet not dismayed to behold this desperate outrage,  
For that a maiden's face was there well matched with a mans-hart.  
Laurel crowned her head, but her head gave grace to the laurel:  
Left hand armed with a bow, and back with a quiver adorned,  
Right hand held up her head; her thy was a stay to the right hand:  
Head never moving, eyes ever fixed on one thing,  
Fixed on one young man sore wounded down by the seashore.  
Sorewounded youngman now lifted his eyes to the heavens  
Heavily, like to a man that's wakened late from a dead sleep,  
And yet he seemed fair and looked lovely for all that;  
And though some bloody spots his face had lately defaced,  
His whiteness by the red more fresh and lively appeared.  
Sorewounded youngman for grief now closed his eye-lidds,  
And yet he caused this maid very steedily still to behold him,  
Still to behold his wounds and face very steedily, so that  
Whosoe looked to the maid must also look to the youngman;  
Who, when he came t'himself, these words very faintily uttered:  
And art thou yet saulf, thou sweetest soul of a thousand,  
Or by thy death hast thou augmented this bloody slaughter?  
Whether death do triumph, or whether life be prolonged,  
Whom Love hath joined, no death shall cause to be seu'red.  
In thee alone do I joy, and for thee alone am I living,  
On thee alone do I see my wealth to be wholly depending.  
And thee alone I do love, that sweet Nymph quickly replied,  
On thee alone I rely: therefore was I fully resolved,  
With this knife, lo here, t'have speedily given me my deaths-wound  
But that I looked for life, and hoapt for a timely recou'ry.  
Thus said, lightly she leapt fro the stone; which made the beholders  
Like men lately amazed with a lightning, run to the bushes,  
And there hide themselves for fear and wonder among them.  
For, standing upright, this maid more stately appeared,  
And much more divine, and far more like to a Goddess.  
Her shafts on shoulders did clash by her hasty removing,  
Her gold-wrought garments by the Sunbeams glistered about her,  
And fro the green garland her fair hair sweetly beseeming  
Scattered abroad by the wind, fell daintily down to the girdle:  
Which princelike marching of a maiden greatly appalled  
Those timorous vagabonds, who peeping out fro the bushes  
Saw thus a strange wonder, but knew no cause of a wonder.  
Some said, Sure this Nymph must needs be the mighty Diana▪  
Some rather thought her that great Egyptian Isis  
Whom those men worshipped; and some were flatly resolved  
That some Priest of Gods inspired with fury from heaven  
Had caused that bloodshed; so every man was a guessing,  
Noeman guessed aright, noeman came near to the matter.  
But she away 'gan fly, and ran forthwith to the youngman,  
Weeping sore for his hurts, his wounds very daintily wiping,  
Kissing, embracing, pitying, and greatly bewailing  
His late misfortune and grief; which caused the beholders  
Quickly to change their mind and former opinion alter.  
And are these, said they, such wondrous works of a Goddess?  
What? can a Goddess kiss, can a Goddess clip thus a deadman?  
What? can such love-tricks and fancies fly to the heavens?  
Nay, then down let's go, and see what may be the matter:  
So then down they go to behold what might be the matter,  
Go to the maid; who than this youngman's wounds was a dressing.  
When they came to the maid, they stopped and stayed on a sudden,  
And not a word, for life, was there once uttered among them,  
And not a deed, for life, was there attempted among them,  
But like stocks or stones they stood very ghastly beside her.  
When she beheld the shadoes of men stand rightly before her,  
And perceived a sound and noise of somewhat about her;  
Thereat somewhat moved, herself she removed a little,  
And looked back for a while, but again very speedily stooped  
Down to the youngman's wounds, and them with care was a dressing,  
Noething troubled at all to behold that company thievish,  
Which there gaped for a pray, and glistered in armour about her.  
Such is true-love's force, that where it taketh a liking,  
There no pain is felt, no pleasure can be regarded  
In respect of that which is so dearly beloved.  
But when those Rakehells 'gan march on bowldly before her  
With fowl black visages, making some show of an onset,  
Up then again, poor wench, herself she began to be lifting,  
And thus spoke, their looks, and countenance ugly beholding.  
If that you be the ghosts of such as lately departed,  
Then do ye us great wrong with such strange sights to molest us:  
For most part of you your selves have filthily murdered,  
And we for our safeguard, God knows, were forced to be fight  
Sith force and violence were offered unto my person:  
If not ghosts but men, then sure ye be thieves, as appeareth  
By your night-walking; and we shall think it a pleasure,  
If you cause our death, our death cause grief to be dying.  
Thus she bewailed her woe; but alas those barbarus outlaws  
Understood no word, no part of her heavy bewailing;  
But there left them alone as noething like to be starting;  
And ran strait to the ship with treasures wished abounding,  
With precious diamonds, gold, silver, curius arrace  
clothes, and finest silk themselves all heavily loading,  
Other wares, that were of less price, lightly regarding.  
When that enough was brought, and pray pleased greedy desiring,  
All was cast on a heap, and then they fell to dividing  
And parting booties, by the greatness, not by the goodness,  
thinking afterwards, of those poor souls to determine,  
Pooreman, poor maiden. But now whilst this was a working,  
Other thieves 'gan approach, whose foremen lustily praunsing  
Were two stout horsemen, resolute, and framed for an onset.  
First thieves fear last thieves (one robber robbeth an other)  
Fear, and fly for fear; and leave their booty behind them,  
Lest by a quick pursuit their prey might chance to betray them  
Into the hands of these last thieves, in number abounding,  
They ten, these thrice ten. Now, now that lovely Virago  
Was captived again, poor soul, and yet not a captive.  
For these last rovers, though greedily bend to the booty.  
Yet somewhat fearful (thieves always use to be fearful)  
And with wonder amazed (such sight might well be a wonder)  
Paused a while, and thought those former thieves to be authors  
Of this fowl outrage: but when they lastly reflected  
Their distracted sight to the brave and glorius object  
Of sweet Nymph, with strange attire yet costly adorned,  
Stowt-hart Nymph, that stirred not a foot nor feared any danger,  
(And yet well, too well she might have feared a danger)  
Constant Nymph, whose eyes, heart, hands were bend to the youngman,  
Loving Nymph, pytying this youngman more than her owneself,  
(And yet most pitiful, God knows, she seemed her ownself)  
thieves themselves, rude thieves were even compelled to be wondering  
At this maids courage, nothing dismayed at a myschif,  
At this maids persnage, noething empayrd by a myschif,  
At this man, though sore, yet tall and comely apearing  
Even as he lay on ground; for now was he somewhat amended,  
And had strength at length and former beauty recovered.  
After much gazing, their guide and captain approaching  
Caught poor maid by the hand, and bade her for to be rising  
And accompany him: poor maid surprysde by the captain  
Understood not a word, (as borne in a contrary country)  
And yet guessed what he meant: and cleaved fast to the youngman,  
And held youngman fast, and every way she declared;  
Unless youngman went, she never meant to be going,  
Unless youngman went, herself she meant to be murdering,  
And with a knife in her hand to her heart she gins to be pointing.  
Which when their captain (with some compassion harckning)  
Partly by her wild talk perceived, but chief by gesture,  
And saw this youngman, though wounded, yet to be manly,  
And very like to be fit for some great noble adventure  
If that he once might chance his former strength to recover,  
Himself dismounting commands his squire to be lighting,  
And youngman youngmaid to the horses strait to be lifting,  
Then bids his fellows take opportunyty offered,  
And make haste after, when spoils and booty be gathered:  
Himself by their sides still runs as a page or a lackey,  
Staying wounded-man, weak maid for fear of a falling.  
Thus was a Lord at last made vassal unto a vassal,  
Thus was a brave captain made captive unto a captive;  
So doth Noblesse work, and so much beauty prevaileth,  
That very thieves themselves it some cyvylyty teacheth,  
And their bruytish breasts to a new humanyty frameth.  
Thus for two forlongs they passed along by the seashore;  
Then leaving Neptune, they turned their course to the lefthand  
Over a hill to a pool, which there lies down in a valley,  
Valley grown to a lake and standing pool by the swelling  
And overflowing of Nilus down to the valley:  
Poole very huge and deep, whose utmost bryms by the marshes,  
As salt sea by the shore, enclosed, was a notable harbour  
Of rogues and robbers and all Egyptian outlaws.  
Their floating whyrries are so contrived in order,  
That they serve these thieves aswell for coats to be dwelling,  
As for boats, by the pool, that roguish sea, to be passing:  
Since each part of land lies overspread by the water,  
But some small angles and nooks, that chance to be peeping  
Here and there by the pool: whereon these raskaly scapethrifts  
Patch uprude cottages, fit bowers for such an asembly.  
In these boats their trulls and wives keep usual household,  
Here their brats are borne and bred, fit nest for a poole-byrde.  
Poole-byrde first brought forth, sucks mother's milk for a season,  
Then feeds on fishes, when sucking days be determynd,  
Fish's caught in pool, and roasted a while by the sunbeams.  
But when he finds his feet, and begins by the boat to be creeping,  
One legg's tide to a cord, for fear of a fall or a ducking:  
So this young crackrope, by a cord is trained to a halter,  
And escapes from drowning, that he may grow fit for a hanging.  
Every younker that fro the pool thus takes a beginning,  
In this pool still keeps, and there doth he make his abiding:  
Poole is his house and home; in pool his life he reposeth  
Poole is a trusty refuge which poole-babes strongly protecteth.  
This makes wandering squires that live by the spoil of an other,  
shifters, night-walkers, rovers, and all the detested  
Pack of rogues to the pool, tag, rag, to be daily repairing,  
As Lords and Ladies of a lake, securely triumphing.  
For this marsh with reeds, this pool with water abounding,  
Water serves as a wall, and reeds instead of a bullwarck.  
And for a further strength to the place, they craftily framed  
divers blind by ways and crooked walks with a thousand  
turnings and windings, aswell known unto the authors  
And marshmen themselves, as not known unto a stranger.  
So that on every side they thick their fort to be fenced,  
And no danger at all, and no pursuit to be feared.  
Now had fiery Phlegon his days revolution ended,  
And his snoring snout with salt waves all to be washed,  
When to the Pool with spoils, etc.  
Carmen amat, quisquis carmine digna gerit.  
FINIS.   

Errata.  
B. 29. He that will, may for those verses,  
I'll soon charm thy cheek, this secret lately I learned  
Of Beldame Sagane, for an ivory comb that I gave her.  
Read these,  
I'll soon charm thy cheek: this charm did Aresia teach me,  
For mine ivory horn, with gold all bravely adorned.  
D. 14. In most part of the impression, by too much haste, bastneth went forth, instead of, hasteneth. l. 2. 29. For sloodes, read floods. K. 3. 17 For eorps, read corpse.