GREEN'S ARCADIA, OR MENAPHON: CAMILLAES' Alarm to slumber EUPHVES in his Melancholy Cell at SILEXEDRA.  
Wherein are descyphered, the variable effects of FORTUNE, the wonders of LOVE, the triumphs of inconstant TIME.  
A work, worthy the youngest ears for pleasure, OR, The gravest censures for principles.  
By ROBERTUS GREEN, in Artibus Magister.  
Omne tulit punctum.  
LONDON Printed by W. Stansby for I. Smethwicke, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstanes Church-yard under the Dial, in Fleetstreet. 1616.   

TO THE GENTLEMEN STUDENTS OF BOTH UNIVERSITIES.  
Courteous, and wise, whose judgements (not entangled with envy) enlarge the deserts of the learned, by your liberal censures: vouchsafe to welcome your Scholarlike Shepherd, with such University entertainment, as either the nature of your bounty, or the custom of your common civility may afford. To you he appeals that knew him ab extrema pueritia, whose placet he accounts the plaudite▪ of his pains: thinking his day-labour was not altogether lavished sive linea, if there be any thing at all in it, that doth olere Atticum in your estimate. I am not ignorant how eloquent our gowned age is grown of late, so that every Mechanical mate abhorreth the English he was borne to, and plucks with a solemn periphrasis, his ut vales from the inkhorn: which I impute, not so much to the perfection of Arts, as to the servile imitation of vainglorious Tragedians, who contend▪ not so seriously to excel in action, as to embowel the clouds in a speech of comparison, thinking themselves more then initiated in Poet's immortality, if they but once get Boreas by the beard, and the heavenly Bull by the deaw-lap. But herein I cannot so fully bequeath them to folly, as their idiot Art-masters, that i●●●ude themselves to our ears, as the Alchemists of eloquence, who (mounted on the stage of arrogance) think to outbrave better Pe●s with the swelling bombast of bragging blank verse. Indeed, it may be, the engrafted over ●●ow of some kill 〈◊〉 conceit, that overcloyeth their imagination with a more than drunken resolution, being not extemporal in the invention of any other means to vent their manhood, commits the digestion of their choleric encumbrances, to the spacious volubility of a drumming decasillabon. 'mongst this kind of men, that repose eternity in the mouth of a Player, I can but engross some deep-read Schoolmen or Grammarians, who having no more learning in their skull, then will serve to take up a commodity, nor Art in their braives, than was nourished in a Serving-man's idleness, will take upon them to be the ironical Censors of all, when God and Poetry doth know they are the simplest of all. To leave all these to the mercy of their Mother tongue, that feed on nought but the crumbs that fall from the translators trencher, I come (sweet friend) to thy Arcadian Menaphon, whose attire (though not so stately, yet comely) doth entitle thee above all other, to that temperatum dicendi genus, which Tully in his Orator termeth true eloquence. Let other men (as they please) praise the Mountain that in seven years bringeth forth a Mouse, or the Italianate Pen, that of a packet of pilfris, affords the Press a pamphlet or two in an Age, and then in disguised array vaunts Ovid's and Plutarch's plumes as their own: but give me the man, whose extemporal vein in any humour, will excel our greatest Art-Masters deliberate thoughts, whose inventions quicker than his eye, will challenge the proudest Rhetorician, to the contention of like perfection, with like expedition.  
What is he among Students so simple, that cannot bring forth (tanquam aliquando) some or other thing singular, sleeping betwixt every sentence? What is not Maro's twelve years toil, that so famed his twelve Aeneidos? Or Peter Ramus sixteen years pains, that so praised his petty Logic? How is it then, our drooping wits should so wonder at an exquisite line, that was his Master's day-labour? Indeed I must needs say, the descending years from the Philosophers Athens, have not been supplied with such present Orators, as were able in any English vein to be eloquent of their own, but either they must borrow invention of Ariosto, & his countrymen, take up choice of words by exchange in Tully's Tusculans, & the Latin Historiographers storehouses, similitudes, nay whole sheets, & tractates verbatim, from the plenty of Plutarch and Pliny: and to conclude, their whole method of writing, from the liberty of Comical fictions, that have succeeded to our Rhetoricians by a second imitation; so that well may the Adage, Nil dictum quod non dictum prius, be the most judicial estimate of our latter Writers. But the hunger of our unsatiate humorists, being such as it is, ready to swallow all draff without difference, that insinuates itself to their senses under the name of delights, employeth ofttimes many threadbare wits, to empty their invention of their Apish devices, and talk most superficially of Policy, as those that never ware gown in the University; wherein they revive the old said Adage, Sus Mineruam, and cause the wiser to quip them with Asinui ad lyram. Would Gentlemen and riper judgements admit my motion of moderation in a matter of folly, I would persuade them to physic their faculties of seeing and hearing, as the Sabaeans do their dulled senses with smelling: who (as Strabo reporteth) over-cloyd with such odoriferous savours as the natural increase of their Country (Balsamum, Amomum, with Myrrh and Frankincense) sends forth, refresh their nostrils with the unsavoury sent of the pitchy flame, that Euphrates cast up, & the coniagíous fumes of goat's beards burned: so would I have them, being surfeited unawares with the sweet satiety of eloquence, which the lavish of our copious language may procure, to use the remedy of contraries, and recreate their rebated wits; not as they did, with the scenting of slime or Goat's beards burned, but with the over-seeing of that sublime dicendi genus, which walks abroad for waste paper in each Serving-man's pocket, and the otherwhile perusing of our Gothamists barbarism; so should the opposite comparison of Purity, expel the infection of Absurdity, and their over-racked Rhetoric, be the Ironical recreation of the Reader.  
But so far discrepant is the idle usage of our unexperienced and illiterated Pu●●es from this prescription, that a tale of joan of Brainfords' will, and the unlucky Frumenty, will be as soon entertained into their Libraries, as the best Poem that ever Tasso eternised: which being the effect of an undiscerning judgement, makes dross as valuable as gold, and loss as welcome as gain; the Glow-worm mentioned in Aesop's Fables, namely, the Ape's folly, to be mistaken for fire, when as God wot, poor souls, they have nought but their toil for their heat, their pains for their sweat, and (to bring it to our English Proverb) their labour for their travel. Wherein I can but resemble them to the Panther, who is so greedy of men's excrements, that if they be hanged up in a vessel higher than his reach, he soone● kills himself with the over-stretching of his windless body, than he will cease from his intended enterprise. Oft have I observed what I now set down: a secular wit that hath lived all days of his life by, what do you lack? to be more judicial in matters of conceit, than our quadrant crepundious, that spit ergo in the mouth of every one they meet: yet those and these are affectionate to dogged detracting, as the most poisonous Pasquil's, any durty-mouthed Martin, or Momus ever composed, is gathered up with greediness, before it fall to the ground, and bought at the dearest, though they smell of the Priplers lavender, half a yee●e after ●or I know not how the mind of the meanest is ●ed with this folly, that they impute singularity, to him that slanders privily, and count it a great piece of Art in an inkhorn man, in any Papsterly terms whatsoever, to expose his Supers●ours to envy. I will not deny, but in Scholarlike matters of controversy, a quicker style may pass as commendable, and that a qui● to an Ass is as good as a goad to an Ox: but when the irregular Idiot, that was up to the ears in 〈◊〉, before ever he met with probabile in the Vnluersitle, shall leave pro & contra, before he ca●●carcely pronounce it, and come to correct commonweals, that never heard of the name of Magistrate, before he came to Cambridge, it is no marvel if every Alehouse vaunt the ●●ble of the world turned upside down, 〈◊〉 the Child beateth his Father, and the Ass whipp●th hi● Master, Bul lest I might seem with these night-crow's, Nimi●● 〈◊〉 in aliena republica, I will turn back to my first Text of Studies of delight, and talk a little in friendship with a few of our trivial Translators. It is a common practice now a days amongst a sort of shifting Companions, that run through every Art, and thrive by none, to leave the ●rade of No●eriut, whereto they were borne, and busy themselves with the endeavours of Art, that could scarcely L●●●nize their neck-verse, if they should have need: yet English Seneca read by candlelight, yields many good sentences, as Blood is a beggar, and so forth: and if you entreat him fair in a frosty morning, he will afford you whole Hamlets, I should say, handfuls of Tragical speeches. But, O grief! Tempus ed●x rerum, what's that will last always? The Sea exhaled by drops, will in continuance be dry: and Seneca let blood 〈◊〉 by line, and page by page, at length must needs die to our stage; which makes his famished followers to imitate the Kid in Aesop, who enamoured with the Fox's newfangles, forsook all hopes of life to leap into a new occupation: and these men renouncing all possibilities of credit or estimation, to intermeddle with Italian Translations: Wherein, how poorly they have plodded, (as those that are neither Poverzal-men, nor are able to distinguish of Articles) let all indifferent Gentlemen that have traveled in that tongue; discern by their twopenny Pamphlets. And no marvel though their home-born mediocrity be such in this matter; for what can be hoped of those, that thrust Elysium into hell, and have not learned so long as they have lived in the Spheres, the just measure of the Horizon without an hexameter? Sufficeth them to bodge up a blank verse with ifs and and's, and other while for recreation after their Candle-stuffe, having starched their beards most curiously, to make a Peripatetical path into the inner parts of the City, and spend two or three hours in turning over French Dowdy, where they attract more infection in one minute, than they can do eloquence all days of their life, by 〈◊〉 with any Authors of like argument. But lest in this declamatory veins, I should condemn all, and commend none, I will propound to your learned imitation, those men of import, that have laboured with credit in this laudable kind of Translation. In the forefront of whom, I cannot but place that aged Father Erasmus, that invested most of our Greek writers in the robes of the ancient Romans; in whose traces Philip Melancthon, Sadolet, Plantine, and many other reverend Germans insisting, have re-edified the ruins of our decayed Libraries, and marvelously enriched the Latin tongue with the expense of then toil. Not long after, their emulation being transported into England, every private Scholar, William Turner, and who not, began to vaunt their smattering of Latin, in English impressions. But amongst others in that age, Sir Thomas Eliots' elegance did sever itself from all equals, although Sir Thomas Moor with his comical wit, at that instant was not altogether idle: yet was not knowledge fully confirmed in her Monarchy amongst us, till that most famous and fortunate Nurse of all learning, Saint john's in Cambridge, that at that time was as an University within itself, shining so far above all other Houses, Halls, and Hospitals whatsoever, that no College in the Town, was able to compare with the Tithe of her Students, having (as I have heard grave men of credit report) more Candle's light in it, every Winter morning before four of the clock, than the four of the clock Bell gave strokes: till she (I say) as a pitying Mother, put to her helping hand, and sent from her fruitful womb, sufficient Scholars, both to support her own Weal, as also to supply all other inferior foundations defects, and namely, that royal crection of Trinity College, which the University Orator in an Epistle to the Duke o●, Somerset, aptly termed Colonia deducta, from the Suburbs of Saint john's. In which extraordinary conception, uno partis in rempublicam prodiere, the Exchequer of eloquence, Sir john Check, a man of men, supernaturally traded in all tongues, Sir john Mason, Doctor Watson, Redman, Ascam, Grindal, Lever, 〈◊〉 all which have either by their private readings, or 〈◊〉 works, re●urged the errors of Art, expelled from their purity, and set before our eyes a more perfect method of study.  
But how ill their precepts have prospered with our idle age, that leave the fountains of Sciences, to follow the Rivers of Knowledge, their overfraught Studies, with trifling compendiaries, may testify: for I know not how it cometh to pass, by the doting practice of our Divinity Du●●es, that strive to make their Pupils pulpit-men, before they are reconciled to Priscian: but those years which should be employed in Aristotle, are expired in Epitomies, and well too, they may have so much Catechism vacation, to take up a little refuse Philosophy.  
And here I could enter into a large field of invective against our abject abbreviations of Arts, were it not grown to a new fashion among our Nation, to vaunt the pride of contraction in every manuary action: insomuch, that the Paternoster, which was wont to fill a sheet of Paper, is written in the compass of a penny: whereupon one merrily assumed that Proverb to be derived, No penny, no pater noster. Which their nice curtayling putteth me in mind of the custom of the Scythians, who if they had been at any time distressed with famine, took in their girdles shorter, and swaddled themselves straighter, to the intent, no vacuum being left in their entrails, hunger should not so much tyrannize over their stomachs: even so these men oppressed with a greater penury of Art, do pound their capacity in barren Compendiums, and bound their base humours in the beggarly straits of a hungry Analysis, lest longing after that infinitum, which the poverty of their conceit cannot compass, they sooner yield up their youth to destiny, than their heart to understanding.  
How is it then such bungling practitioners in principles, should ever profit the Commonwealth by their negligent pains, who have no more cunning in Logic or Dialogue Latin, then appertains to the literal construction of either: nevertheless, it is daily apparent to our domestical eyes, that there is none so forward to publish their imperfections, either in their trade of gloze or translations, as those that are more unlearned than ignorant, and less conceiving than Infants. Yet dare I not impute absurdity to all of that society, although some of them have set their names to their simplicity. Who ever my private opinion condemneth as saultie, Master Gascoigne is not to be abridged of his deserved esteem, who first beat the path to that perfection which our best Poets have aspired to since his departure, whereto he did ascend, by comparing the Italian with the English, as Tully did Graeca cum Latinis. Neither was M. turbervile the worst of his time, though in translating he attributed too much to the necessity of the time. And in this page of praise, I cannot omit aged Arthur Golding, for his industrious toil in Englishing Ovid's Metamorphosis, besides many other exquisite editions of divinity, turned by him out of the French tongue into our own. M. Phaer likewise is not to be forgot, in regard of his famous Virgil, whose heavenly verse, had it not been blemished by his haughty thoughts, England might have long insulted his wit, and corrigat qui potest have been subscribed to his works. But Fortune, the Mistress of change, with a pitying compassion, respecting Master Stanihursts praise, would that Phaer should fall, that he might rise, whose heroical poetry enfired, I should say inspired with an hexameter fury, recalled to life, what ever histed Barbarism hath been buried this hundred year: and revived by his ragged quill such carterly variety, as no Hodge ploughman in a Country but would have held as the extremity of clownery: a pattern whereof I will propound to your judgements, as near as I can, being part of one of his descriptions of a tempest, which is thus. 
Then did he make heavens vault to rebound,  
with rounce robble bobble,  
Of ruff raff roaring,  
with thwicke thwack▪ thurlerie bouncing.  Which strange language of the firmament, never subject before to our common phrase, make us that are not used to terminate heavens moving in the accents of any voice, esteem of their triobulare Interpreter, as of some Thrasonical huff-snuff: for so terrible was his style to all mild ears, as would have affrighted our peaceable Poets from intermeddling hereafter, with that quarreling kind of verse, had not sweet Master France, by his excellent translation of Master Thomas watson's sugared Amintas, animated their dulled spirits, to such high-witted endeavours. But I know not how, their over-timerous cowardice hath stood in awe of envy, that no man since him durst imitate any of the worst of those Roman wonders in English: which makes me think, that either the lovers of mediocrity are very many, or that the number of good Poets are very small, and in truth, (Master Watson except, whom I mentioned before) I know not almost any of late days, that hath showed himself singular in any special Latin Poem: whose Amintas, and translated Antigone, may march in equipage of honour, with any of your ancient Poets: I will not say but we had a Haddon, whose pen would have challenged the Laurel from Homer, together with Car that came as near him as Virgil to Theocritus. But Thomas Newton with his Leiland, and Gabriel Harvey, with two or three other, is almost all the store that is left us at this hour. Epitaphers, and position Poets, we have more than a good many, that swarm like Crows to a dead carcase, but fly like Swallows in the Winter, from any continuate subject of wit.  
The efficient whereof, I imagine to issue from the upstart discipline of our reformato●ie Churchmen, who account wit vanity, and Poetry impiety: whose error, although the necessity of Philosophy might confute, which li●s couched most closely under dark fables profundity, yet I had rather refer it as a disputative plea by Divines, than set it down as a determinate position in my unexperienced opinion. But how ever their dissentious judgements should decree in their afternoon sessions of ansit, the private truth of my discovered Creed in this controversy is this, that as that beast was thought scarce worthy to be sacrificed to the Egyptian Epaphus▪ who had not some or other black spot on his skin: so I deem him far unworthy the name of a scholar, and so consequently to sacrifice his endeavours to Art, that is not a Poet, either in whole or in part.  
And here peradventure, some desperate quipper will canuaze my purposed comparison Plus ultra, reconciling the allusion of the black spot, to the black pot, which maketh our Poets undermeale Muses too mutinous, as every stanzo they pen after dinner, is full pointed with a stab. Which their dagger drunkenness, although it might be excused with tam Marti, quam Mercurio, yet will I cover it as well as I may with that proverbial foecundi cal●●es, that might well have been doorkeeper to the kanne of Sile●us, when nodding on his Ass trapped with ivy, he made his moist nosecloth the pausing intermedium twixt every nap. Let frugal scholars, and fine-fingered novices, take their drink by the ounce, and their wine by the halfpenny worths: but it is for a Poet to examine the pottle pots, and gauge the bottom of whole gallons, qui bene vult poie in, debet ante pinion. A pot of blue burning ale, with a fiery flaming toast, is as good as Pallas with the nine Muses on Parnassus' top: without the which, in vain they may cry, O thou my Muse, inspire me with some pen, when they want certain liquid sacrifice to rouse her forth her den.  
Pardon me (Gentlemen) though somewhat merrily I glance at their immoderate folly, who affirm, that noman writes with conceit, except he take counsel of the cup: nor would I have you think, that Theonino dente, I arm mystile against all, since I do know the moderation of many Gentlemen of that study, to be so far from infamy, as their verse from equality: whose sufficiency, were it as well seen into, by those of higher place, as it wanders abroad unrewarded in the mouths of ungrateful monsters, no doubt but the remembrance of Macenas liberality extended to Maro, and men of like quality, would have left no memory to that proverb of poverty, Si nihil attuleris, ibis Homere foras. Tush, say our English Italians, the finest wits our climate sends forth, are but drie-brained dolts in comparison of other countries: whom if you interrupt with red rationem; they will tell you of Petrarch, Tasso, Celiano, with an infinite number of others, to whom if I should oppose Chaucer, Lydgate, Gower, with such like, that lived under the tyranny of ignorance, I do think their best lovers would be much discontented with the collation of contraries, if I should write over all their heads, Hail fellow, well met. One thing I am sure of, that each of these three have vented their metres with as much admiration in English, as ever the proudest Ariosto did his verse in Italian.  
What should I come to our Court, where the other-while vacations of our graver Nobilitle are prodigal of more pompous wit, and choice of words, than ever tragic Tasso could attain to? But as for pastoral poems, I will not make the comparison, lest our countrymen's credit should be discountenanced by the contention: who, although they cannot far with such inferior facility, yet I know, would carry the bucklers full easily from all foreign bravers, if their subiectum circa quod, should savour of any thing haughty. And should the challenge of deep conceit be intruded by any foreigner, to bring our English wits to the touchstone of Art, I would prefer divine Master Spencer, the miracle of wit, to bandy line by line for my life, in the honour of England, against Spain, France, Italy, and all the world. Neither is he the only swallow of our Summer, (although Apollo, if his Tripos were up again, would pronounce him his Socrates,) but he being forborn, there are extant about London, many most able men, to revive Poetry, though it were executed ten thousand times, as in Plato's, so in Puritans Commonwealth: as namely for example, Matthew Roydon, Thomas Achlow, and George Peele: the first of whom, as he hath showed himself singular in the immortal Epitaph of his beloved Astrophil, besides many other most absolute Comike inventious (made more public by every man's praise, than they can be by my speech,) so the second hath more than once or twice manifested hi● deepe-witted scholarship in places of credit: and for the last, though not the least of them all, I dare commend him unto all that know him, as the chief supporter of pleasance now living, the Atlas of Poetry, and primus verborum Artifex: whose first increase, the arraignment of Paris might plead to your opinions, his pregnant dexterity of wit, and manifold variety of invention, wherein (me judice) he goeth a step beyond all that write. Sundry other sweet Gentlemen I do know, that we have vaunted their pens in private devices, and tricked up a company of taffatie fools with their feathers, whose beauty, if our Poets had not pecked with the supply of their periwigs, they might have antickt it until this time, up and down the Country with the King of Fairies, and dived every day at the pease-porredge ordinary with Delfrigus.  
But Tolass● hath forgotten that it was sometime sacked, and beggars, that ever they carried their farthels on footback: and in truth no marvel, when as the deserved reputation of one Roscius, is of force to enrich a rabble of counterfeits: Yet let subjects for all their insolence, dedicate a De propundis every morning to the preservation of their Caesar, left their increasing indignities return them ere long their juggling to mediocrity, and they bewail in weeping blanks, the wane of their Monarchy.  
As Poetry hath been honoured in those her forenamed professors, so it hath not been any whit disparaged by William Warners absolute Albion's. And here Authority hath made a full point: in whose reverence insisting, I cease to expose to your sport the picture of those Pamphleteers, and Poets, that make a patrimony of In speech, and more than a younger brothers inheritance of their Abcie. Read favourably, to encourage me in the firstlings of my folly, and persuade yourselves, I will persecute those Idiots and their heirs unto the third generation, that have made Art bankrupt of her ornaments, and sent Poetry a begging up and down the Country. It may be, my Anatomy of Absurdities may acquaint you ere long with my skill in Surgery, wherein the diseases of Art more merrily discovered, may make our maimed Poets put together their blanks unto the building of an Hospital.  
If you chance to meet it in Paul's, shaped in a new suit of similitudes, as if like the eloquent Apprentice of Plutarch, it were propped at seven years end in double apparel, think his Master hath fulfilled covenants, and only canceled the Indentures of duty. If I please, I will think my ignorance indebted unto you that applaud it: if not, what rests, but that I be excluded from your courtesy, like Apocrypha from your Bibles?  
How ever, yours ever: Thomas Nash.   

DElicious words, the life of wanton wit,  
That doth inspire our souls with sweet content,  
Why hath your Father Hermes thought it fit,  
Mine eyes should surfeit by my heart's consent?  
Full twenty Summers have I fading seen,  
And twenty Flora's in their golden guise:  
Yet never viewed I such a pleasant green,  
As this whose garnish gleades compared, devise.  
Of all the flonwers a Lily once I loved,  
Whose labouring beauty branched itself abroad.  
But now old age his glory hath removed,  
And greener objects are mine eyes abroad.  
No Country to the downs of Arcady,  
Where Aganippe's ever springing wells  
Do moist the meads with bubbling melody,  
And makes me muse what more in Delos dwells.  
There feeds our Menaphons' celestial Muse,  
There makes his Pipe his pastoral report:  
Which strained now a note above his use,  
Foretells he'll ne'er come chant of Thoacs' sport.  
Read all that lift, and read till you mislike,  
To condemn who can, so Envy be not judge:  
No, read who can, swell more higher, lest it shriek.  
Robin, thou hast done well, care not who grudge.  
Henry Vpcher.   

The reports of the Shepherds.  
AFter that the wrath of mighty jove had wrapped Arcadia with noisome pestilence, insomuch that the air yielding prejudicial savour, seemed to be peremptory in some fatal resolution, Democles Sovereign & King of that famous Continent, pitying the sinister accidents of his people, being a man as just in his censures, as royal in his possessions, as careful for the weal● of his Country, as the countenance of his Diadem, thinking that unpeopled Cities were corros●nes in Prince's consciences, that the strength of his subjects was the sinews of his Dominions, and that every Crown must contain a care, not only to win honour by foreign conquest, but in maintaining dignity with civil and domestical in●●ghts. Democle▪ grounding his argument upon these premises, coveting to be counted. Pater patria, calling a Parliament together, whither all his Nobility incited by summons made their repair, elected two of his chief Lords to pass unto Delphos, at Apollo's Oracle, to hear the fatal sentence, either of their future misery, or present remedy. They having their charge, posting from Arcadia to the Tripos, where Pithia sat, the sacred Nymph that delivered out Apollo's Dylonimas, offering (as their manner 〈◊〉 Orisons and presents, as well to entreat by devotion, as to persuade by bounty, they had returned from Apollo this doom.  
When Neptune riding on the Southern Seas,  
Shall from the bosom of his Lomman yield,  
The Arcadian wonder, men and 〈◊〉 to please:  
Plenty in pride shall march amidst the field.  
Dead men shall war, and unborn babes shall frown,  
And with their fawchons hew their footmen down:  
When Lambs have Lions for their surest guide,  
And Planets rest upon th' Arcadian hills:  
When swelling Seas have neither ebb nor'tide,  
When equal banks the Ocean margin fills:  
Then look Arcadians for a happy time,  
And sweet content within your troubled clime.  
No sooner had Pithia delivered this scroll to the Lords of Arcadia, but they departed and brought it to Democles, who causing the Oracle to be read amongst the distressed commons, found the Delphian censure more full of doubts to amaze, then fraught with hope to comfort: thinking rather that the anger of GOD sent a peremptory presage of ruin, than a probable ambiguity to applaud any hope of remedy: yet loath to have his careful subjects fall into the baleful Labyrinth of deshaire, Democles began to discourse unto them, that the interpreters of Apollo's secrets were not the conceits of human reason, but the success of long expected events, that Comets did portend at the first blaze, but took effect in the dated bosom of the destinies: that Oracles were foretold at the Delphian cave, but were shaped out and fluished in the Counsel house. With such persuasive arguments Democles appealed the distressed thoughts of his doubtful Countrymen, and commanded by Proclamation, that no man should pry into the quiddities of Apollo▪ answer, lest sundry censures of his divine secrecy should trouble Arcadia with some sudden mutiny. The King thus smoothing the beat of his cares, rested a melancholy man in his Court: hiding under his head the doublefaced figure of janus, as well to 〈◊〉 the Skies of other men's conceits with smiles, as to furnish out his own dumps with thoughts. But as other beasts level their looks at the countenance of the Lion, and birds make wings as the Eagles fly: so Regis ad arbitrium totus componitur orbis: the people were measured by the mind of their Sovereign: and what storms soever they smothered in private conceit, yet they made hay, and cried holiday in outward appearance: insomuch that every man repaired to his own home, and fell either unto pleasures or labours, as their living or content allowed them.  
Whiles thus Arcady rested in a silent quiet, Menaphon the King shepherd, a man of high account among the Swains of Arcadia, loved of the Nymphs, as the paragon of all their country youngsters, walking solitary down to the shore, to see if any of his Ewes and Lambs were straggled down to the Strand to browse on the Sea ivy, whereof they take special delight to feed; he found his stocke● gazing upon the Promontory Mountains hardly: whereon resting himself on a hill that over-peered the great Mediterraneum, noting how Phoebus fetched his Laualtes●n ●n the purple Plains of Neptunus, as if he had meant to have courted Thet is in the royalty of his robes: the Dolphines (the sweet comeiters of Music) fetched their careers on the calmed waves, as if A●ion had touched the strings of his silver sounding instrument: the Mermaids thrusting their heads from the bosom of Amphitrite, sat on the mounting banks of Neptune, day 〈◊〉 their watery tresses in the Sun- 〈◊〉 Ae●dus for bare▪ to throw abroad his gusts on the slumbering brows of the Sea-god, as giving Triron leave to pleasure his Queen with destred melody, and Protens liberty to sollowe his flocks without disquiet.  
Menaphon looking over the champion of Arcady, to see if the continent was as full of smiles, as the Seas were of favours, saw the shrubs as in a dream with delightful harnwnie, and the birds that chanted on their branches, not disturbed with the least breath of a favourable Zephyrus. Seeing thus the accord of the land and Sea, casting a fresh gaze o● the water-Nimphes, he began to consider, how Venus was feigned by the Poets to spring of the froth of the seas: which dra●e him strait into a deep conjecture of the inconstancy of love, that as if Luna were his lead-starre, had every 〈◊〉 ebbs and tides, sometime overflowing the banks of Fortune with a gracious look lightened from the eyes of a favourable lover, other whiles ebbing to the dangerous shelf of despairs, with the piercing frown of a froward Mistress. Menaphon in this brown study, calling to mind certain Aphorisms that Auarreon had pen● down as principles of loves follies, being as deep an enemy to fancy, as Nar●issus was to assertion, began thus to scoff at Venus' Deity.  
Menaphon, thy minds favours are greater than thy wealth's fortunes, thy thoughts higher than thy birth, and thy private conceit better than thy public esteem. Thou art a shepherd, Menaphon, who in feeding of thy ●oike findest out nature's secrecis, and in ●rouenting thy lambs prejudice, conceitest the astronomical motions of the heavens: holding thy sheep-walks to yield as great Philosophy, as the ancients discourse in their learned Academies. Thou countest labour as the Indians do their Chrysocolla, wherewith they try every metal, and thou examine every action. Content sitteth in thy mind as Neptune in his Sea-throne, who with his trident mare appeaseth every storm. When thou seest the heavens frown, thou thinkest on thy faults, and a clear sky putteth, thee in mind of grace: the Summer's glory tells thee of youth's vanity: the winter's parched leaves, of age's declining weakness. Thus in a mirror thou measurest thy deeds with equal and considerate motions, & by being a Shepherd findest that which Kings want in their royalties. Envy over-looketh thee, renting with the winds the Pine-trees of Ida, when the Africa shrubs wave not a leaf with the tempest. Thine eyes are veiled with content, that thou canst not gaze so high as ambition, and for love: and with that in naming of love, the shepherd fell into a great laughter. Love, Menaphon, why of all follies that ever Poets feigned, or men saulted with, this foolish imagination of love is the greatest. Venus forsooth for her wanton escapes must be a goddess, and her bastard a Deity: Cupid must be young and ever a boy, to prove that love is fond and witless: wings to make him inconstant, and arrows whereby to show him fearful: blind (or all were not worth a pin) to prove that Cupid's level is both without aim and reason: thus is the god, and such are 〈…〉 as our Shepherds of Arcady settle themselves to fancy, and wear the characters of Venus stamped in their foreheads, strait their attire must be acquaint, their looks full of amours, as their, gods quiver is full of arrows: their eyes holding smiles and tears, to leap out at their Mistress favours or her frowns: sighs must fly as figures of their thoughts, and every wrinkle must be tempered with a passion: thus suited in outware proportion, and made excellent in inward constitution, they strait repair to take view of their Mistress beauty. She as one observant unto Venus' principles, first, ●ieth love in her tresses, and wraps affection in the 〈◊〉 of her hair; snaring our swains in her locks, as Mars in the net, holding in her forehead Fortune's Calendar, either to assign dismal influence, or some favourable aspect. If a wrinkle appear in her brow, than our Shepherd must put on his working day face, and 〈◊〉 nought but doleful madrigals of sorrow; if a dimple grace her cheek, the heavens cannot prove fatal to our kindhearted lovers; if she seem coy, than poems of death mounted upon deep drawn sighs, fly from their master to sue for some favour, alleging how death at the least may date his misery; to be brief, as upon the shores of 〈◊〉, the winds, continue never one day in one quarter, so the thoughts of a lover never continue scarce a minute in one passion; but as Fortune's globe, so is Fancies case; variable and inconstant.  
If lovers sorrows then be like Sisyphus turmoils, and their favours like honey bought with ●all; let poor Menaphon then live at labour, and make esteem of Venus as of Mars his Coucubine; and as the Cimbrians hold their idols in account but in every tempest, so make Cupid a god, but when thou art over pained with passions, and then Menaphon will never love: for as long as thou temperest thy hand with labours, thou canst not fetter thy thoughts with loves. And in this Satirical humour smiling at his own conceits, he took his pipe in his hand, and between every-report of his instrument, 〈◊〉 a Stanzo to this 〈◊〉.  


Menaphons' Song.  
Some say love,  
Foolish love,  
Doth rue and govern all the gods:  
I say love,  
Inconstant love,  
Sets men's senses f●r●● at odds.  
Some swear love,  
Smoothed face love,  
Is sweetest sweet that men can have:  
I say love,  
Sour love,  
Makes virtues yield as beauty's slave.  
A bitter sweet, a folly worst of all,  
That forceth wisdom to be follies thrall:  
Love is sweet:  
Where in sweet?  
In fading pleasures that do shine:  
Beauty sweet.  
Is that sweet,  
That yields sorrow for a gain:  
If love's sweet,  
Herein sweet,  
That minutes joys are monthly woes:  
'tis not sweet,  
That is sweet,  
No where, but where repentance grows:  
Then love who lift, i● beauty be so sour,  
Labour for me, love rest in Prince's bower.    
Menaphon having ended his roundelay, rose up, thinking to pass from the mountain down to the valley, casting his eye to the sea side, espied certain fragments of a broken ship floating upon the waves, and sundry persons driven upon the shore like a calm, walking all wet and weary upon the sands: wondering at this strange sight, he stood amazed, yet desirous is see the event of this accident, he shrouded himself to rest 〈◊〉, till he might perceive what would happen: at last he might descry it was a woman holding a child in her arms, and an old man directing her as it were hot guide. These three (as distressed wracks) preserved by some further forepointing Fate, coveted to climb the Mountain, the better to use the favour of the Sun, to dry their drench●● apparel, at last crawled up where poor Menaphon lay close, and resting them under a bush, the old man did nothing but send out sighs, and the woman ceased not from streaming forth rivulets of tears, that hung on her cheeks like the drops of pearled dew upon the riches of Flora. The poor babe was the touch stone of his mother's passions: for when he smiled and lay laughing in her lad, were her heart never so deeply overcharged with her present sorrows: yet kissing the pretty Infant, she lightened out smiles from those cheeks that were furrowed with continual sources of tears: but if he cried, then sighs as smokes, and sobs as thunder-crackes, fore 〈◊〉 those showers, that which redoubled distress distilled from her eyes: thus with pretty inconstant passions trimming up her baby, and at last to lull him asleep, she warbled out of her woeful breast this Ditty.  


S●phestias Song to her child.  
Weep not, any wanton, smile upon my knee,  
When thou art old, there'● grief enough for thee.  
Mother's wag, 〈◊〉 boy,  
Father's sorrow father's joy.  
When thy father first did see  
Such a boy by him and me,  
He was glad, I was 〈◊〉,  
Fortune changed made him so:  
When he had left his 〈◊〉 boy,  
Last his sorrow, first his joy▪  
Weep not my wanton, smile upon my knee:  
When thou 〈◊〉 old there's grief enough for thee.  
Streaming tears 〈…〉 stint,  
Like 〈◊〉 drop 〈◊〉 flint,  
Fell by course from his eyes,  
That one another's place supplies:  
Thus he grieved in 〈◊〉 part,  
Tears of blood fell from his heart,  
When he left his 〈◊〉 the boy,  
Father's sorrow, Father's joy.  
Weep not my wanton, smile upon my knee:  
When thou art old; there's grief enough for thee.  
The w●nton smiled, Father wept,  
Mother cried, baby leapt:  
More lie crowned, more he cried,  
Nature could not sorrow hide.  
He must go, he must kiss,  
Child and mother, baby bliss:  
For ●e left his pretty boy,  
Father's sorrow, Father's joy.  
Weep not my wanton, smile upon my knee,  
When thou are old, there's grief enough for thee.    
With this lullaby the baby fell asleep, and Sephestia laying it upon the green grass, covered it with a mantle, and then leaning her head on her hand, and her elbow on her lap, she fell afresh to power forth abundance of plaints, which Lamedon the old man espying, although in his face appeared the map of discontent, and in every wrinkle was a catalogue of woes, yet to cheer up Sophestia, shrouding his inward sorrow with an outward smile, he began to comfort her in this manner.  
Sephestia, thou seest no 〈◊〉 prevails against the gaze of the Basilisks, no 〈◊〉 against the s●ing of the Tarantula, no prevention to divert the decree of the Fates: nor no means to recall back the driefull hurt of Fortune. Incurable sores are without 〈◊〉 Aphorisms, and therefore no salve for them but patience. Th●n my Sephestia, ●ith thy fall is high, and fortune low; thy sorrows great, and thy hope little, se●ing me partaker of thy miseries, set all upon this, Solamen miseris socios hab●isse doloris. Chance is like janus, doublefaced, as well full of smiles to comfort, as of frowns to dismay: the Ocean at the deaddest ebb returns to a full tide, when the Eagle means to soar highest, he raiseth his ●light in the lowest da●es: so s●reth it with fortune, who in her highest extremes is most unconstant: when the tempest of her wrath is most fearful, then look for a calm: when she beats thee with Nettles, then think she will strew th●● with Roses: when she is most familiar with curtes, her intent is to be most prodigal, Sephestia. Thus are the ●●rowes of fortune feathered with the plumes of the bird Halc●●●e, that changeth colour with the ●one, which howsoever she shoots them, pierce not so deep but they may be ●●ced. But Sephestia, th●● art daughter to a s●ing, exiled by him from the hope of a crown was, banished from the pleasures of the Court to the painful fortunes of the country, parte● for love from him thou canst not but love, from Maximus, Sephestia, who for thee hath suffered so many dissa●ours, as either discontent or death can afford. What of all this, is not H●pe the daughter of Time? Have not stars their favourable aspects, as they have froward opposition? Is there not a jupiter as there is a Saturn? Cannot the influence of smiling Venus stretch as far as the frowning constitution of Mars? I tell thee Sephesti●, juno foldeth in her brows the Volumes of the destinies: whom melancholy Saturn deposeth from a Crown, she mildly advanceth to a Diadems: the● fear not, for if the mother li●e in miseris, yet hath she a Sceptre for the Son: let the unkindness of thy father be buried in the ●inders of obedience, and the want of Maximus be supplied with the presence of his pretty babe, who being too young for fortune, lies smiling on thy knee and laughs at Fortune: learn by him Sephestia, to use patience, which is like the balm in the vale of jehosaphat, that 〈◊〉 no wound so deep; but it cureth: thou seest already Fortune begins so change her hue, for after the great storm that p●●t our ship, we found a calm that bronght us safe to shore; the mercy of Neptune was more than the envy of Aeolus, & the discourtesy of thy Father is proportioned with the favour of the gods. Thus Sephestia, being copartner of thy misery, yet do I seek to allay thy martyrdom: being sick to myself, yet do I play the Physician to thee, wishing thou mayest bear thy sorrows with as much content, as I brook my misfortunes with patience. As he was ready to go forward with his persuasive argument, Sephestia fetching a deep sigh, filling her tender eyes with tears, mads this reply.  
Sweet Lamedon, once partner of my royalties, now partaker of my wants, as constant in his extreme distress, as faithful in higher fortunes: the Turtle pearketh not on barren trees, Doves delight not in soul cottages, the Lion frequent no putrefied haunts, friends follow not after poverty, nor hath ●●ister chance any drugs from the Physicians. Nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes: and yet Lamedon; the misfortune of Sephestia abridgeth not our old contracted amity, thou temperest her ●xile with thy banishment, and ●hée sailing to Styx, thou merriest over to Phlege●on: then Lamedon, saying as Andromache said to Hector, Tu Dominus, tu vir, tu mihi frater cris: Thy aged years shall be the Calendar of my fortunes, and thy grey hairs the Parallels of mine actions. If Lamedon persuade Sephestia to content, Po●tia shall not ●●céede Sephestia in patience: If he will her to keep a low fail, she will vail all her sheet: if to forget her loves, she will quench them with labours: if to accuse Venus as a foe, I will hate Cupid as an enemy: and seeing the destinies have driven thee from a crown, I will rest satisfied with the country, placing all my delights in honouring thee, and nursing up my pretty wanton. I will imagine a small cottage to be a spacious Palace, and think as great quiet in a russet coat, as in royal habiliments. Sephestia, Lamedon will not scorn with juno to turn herself into the shape of Semelas' nurse, but unknown, re●● careless of my fortunes: the hope of times return shall be the end of my thoughts, the smiles of my son shall be the nourishment of my heart, and the course of his ●outh shallbe the comfort of my years, every laughter that leaps from his looks, sh●ll be the holiday of my conceits, and every ●eare shall furnish out my grief●s, and his father's funerals. I have heard them say, Lamedon, that the lowest shrubs feel the least tempests, and in the valleys of Africa is heard no thunder, that in country rooms is greatest rest, and in little wealth the least disquiet: dignity treadeth upon glass, and honour is like unto the herb Sinara, that when it bloometh most gorgeous, than it blasteth: Aulica vita splendida miseria, Courts have golden dreams, but cottages sweet slumbers: then Lamedon, will I disguise myself, with my clothes will I change my thoughts; for being poorly attired, I will be meanly minded, & measure my actions by my present estate, not by former fortunes. In saying this, the babe a wa●t and cried, and she fell to tears mixed with a ●ullable.  
All this while Menaphon sat amongst the shrubs, fixing his eyes on the glorious object of her face, he noted her tresses, which he compared to the coloured Hyacinth of Arcadia, her brows to the mountain snows that lie on the hills: her eyes to 〈◊〉 grey glister of Titan's gorgeous mantle, her alabaster neck to the whiteness of his flocks, her tears to pearl, her face to borders of lilies interseamed with roses: to be brief, our Shepherd Menaphon that heretofore was an Atheist to love, and as the Thessalian of Bacchus, so he a contmner of Venus, was now by the wily shaft of Cupid so entangled in the perfection & beauteous excellency of Sephestia; as now he swore, no benign Planet but Venus, no god but Cupid, no exquisite deity but love. Being thus fettered with the pliant persuasions of fancy, impatient in his new affections, as the horse that never before felt the spur, he could not bridle his new conceived amours, but watching when they should depart, perceiving by the gestures of the old man, and the tears of the Gentlewoman, that they were distres●, thought to offer 〈◊〉 help that lay within the compass of his ability. As thus he mused in his new passions, Lamedon and Sephestia rose up, and resolved to take course which way the wind blew: passing so down the mountain● to g●● seek out some town, at last they passing fastly on, Lamedon espied Menaphon: desirous therefore to know the course of the country, he saluted him thus.  
Shepherd, for to far thy attire warrants me; courteous, for so much thy countenance imports: i● distressed, persons, whom Fortune hath wronged, and the seas have favoured, (if we may count it favour to live and wa●t) may without offence ●raue so far side, as to know some place where to rest our weary and weatherbeaten ●●nes, our charges shall be● paid, and you have for recompense such thanks, as Fortune's outlaws may yield to their favourers. Menaphon hearing him speak so gravely, but not ●itting his ear to his eye, stood staring still an Sephestias face, which she perceiving, flashed out such a blush fro● her alabaster cheeks, that they looked like the rud●● gates of the Morning: this sweet bashfulness amazing Menaphon, at last he began thus to answers.  
Strangers, your degree I know not, therefore pardon if I give less title, than your estates ●●rite: fortunes from 〈◊〉 are princes fortunes, and kings are subject to ch●●c●● destiny. Mishap is to be salved with pity, not scorn: and we that are fortunes darlings, are bound to relieu● them that are distressed: therefore follow me, and you shall have such succour, as a Shepherd may afford. Lamedon and Sephestia, were passing glad, and Menaphon led the way, not content only to feed his sight with the beauty of his new Mistress, but thought also to infer some occasion of parl●y, to hear whether her voice were as m●ledious as her face beautiful, he therefore prosecuted his prattle thus: Gentlewoman, when first I saw you sitting upon the Arcadian promontory with your baby on your lap, & this old father by, I thought I had seen Venus with Cupid on her knee, 〈…〉 of Troy & the 〈…〉 your looks could discover no less th●n. Mar● 〈…〉, and the beauty 〈◊〉 child as much as the digni●● of her wanton: at last 〈…〉, that yo● 〈…〉 distress; 〈…〉 partake your so 〈◊〉, and 〈…〉, I pity overcharged persons, in am 〈◊〉 het 〈…〉 your name, country and ●●●●ntage, 〈…〉 by the a 〈…〉, that the swains 〈…〉 love, replied 〈◊〉 Courte●●● 〈…〉 did look like Venus at: a blush, it way 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 goddess wept for her fair: Adonis: my boy 〈…〉 Cupid, but the fou●● of Care▪ Fortunes 〈◊〉 in his youth to be (I hope) her darling in his age 〈◊〉 that your look● saw our grief, and your thought 〈…〉 shall give thanks (the bounty of 〈…〉 heart's pray that the gods may be as friendly to your flo●●s, as you favourable unto us. My 〈◊〉 is Samela, my country Cypress, my 〈…〉, the wis● of a 〈◊〉 Gentleman now 〈…〉, shepherd 〈◊〉, lest it be ●edious for thee to hear it, and a double grief for me● to 〈◊〉 it. The shepherd not daring displease hi● Mistress, 〈…〉 threats hanging 〈◊〉 her lips, 〈…〉 them 〈◊〉 to his house: 〈◊〉 as they were art 〈…〉, he began at the door to entertain them thus: Fair● Mistress, the flower of all our Nymphs that li●● here in Arcadia, this is my cottage wherein I live content, and your lodging, where (please it you) ye may rest 〈…〉 to cover the 〈◊〉, nor 〈…〉 wealth: for shepherds use neither to 〈…〉: you shall ●●nde here 〈◊〉 and milk so? dai● 〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉 for ●l●●hing, in every corner of the house. Content sitting smiling and tempering 〈…〉 thing with a 〈◊〉: this if ye can brook and accept of (as gods allow the meanest hospitality) ye ●all have such welcome and 〈◊〉 Phil●mon and Baucis gave to jupiter▪ Sephestia thanked him heartily, and going into his house, 〈…〉 what he promise 〈◊〉 that they had sat a little by the 〈◊〉 and were 〈◊〉 warmed, they went to supp●●, where Sephestia 〈◊〉 well, as one whom the sea had made 〈◊〉, and Lamedon so plied his teeth, that at supper he sp●ke not 〈…〉 taken their ●ēpast▪ Menaphon 〈◊〉 they were 〈◊〉, and that sleep chimed on to the rest, let them see their lodging, and so gave them the good night. Lamedon on his ●ock-bed, and Sephestia on her country ●ouch,) were so 〈◊〉, that they slept well & but Menaphon, poor Menaaphon, neither asked his 〈◊〉 for his 〈◊〉, nor took his male-spade on his neck to see his 〈◊〉 but as a man pained with a thousand passions, drenched in distress, & overwhelmed with a multitude of uncouth 〈◊〉; he 〈◊〉 like the pictures that Pers●● turned with him 〈◊〉 head into stones. His sister Carmela kept his house, (for so was the country wench called) and she seeing her brother sit so 〈◊〉- contented, stepped to her cupboard, & fetched a little beaten spice in an old bladder, she spared no evening milk, but went amongst the cream boll●s, and made him a posset. But alas, love had so locked up the shepherds stomach, that none would down with Menaphon. Carmela seeing her brother refuse his spiced drink, thought all was not well, and therefore sat down and wept: to be 〈◊〉, she blubbered, and he 〈◊〉; and his men that came in and saw their ●●●ster with a kercher on his head, mourned: so that amongst these swains there was such melody, that Menaphon took his bow and arrows, and went to bed: where casting himself, he thought to have beguiled his ●assions with some sweet slumbers: but love that smiled at his new entertained champion, sitting on his bed's head, wicked him forward with new desires, charging Morph●●●, Phobetur, and Ic●lon the gods of sleep, to present unto his closed eyes the singular beauty and rare 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉: & for so will we now call her) in that the Id●● of her excellence forced him to breath out scalding sights smothered within the furnace of his thoughts, which grew into this or the like passion.  
I had thought, Menaphon, that he which weareth the bay leaf, had been free from light 〈◊〉, and the Eagles 〈◊〉 a preservative against thunder, that labour had been 〈◊〉 so love, and the eschewing of idleness an Antidote against fancy: but I see by proof, there is no adamant so ●ard, but the blood of a Goat will make soft: no 〈◊〉 so well defenced, but strong battery will enter, nor any heart so pliant to restless labours, but enchantments of love will over come. Unfortunate Menaphon, that of late thought●●● Venus a strumpet, and her son a bastard: now must thou offer incense at her shrine, & swear Cupid no less than a god: thou hast reason▪ Menaphon, for he● that lives without love, lives without life, presuming as Narcissus to hate all, and being like him, at length despised of all. Can there 〈◊〉 ● sw●●ter bliss than beauty, a greater heaven than her heavenly perfections that is mistress of thy thoughts? If the sparkle of her eyes appear in the night, the s●arres blush at her brightness: if her hair glister in the day, Ph●●bus puts off his wreath of diamonds, as overcome with the shine of her tresses: if she walk in the fields, Flora seeing her face, bids all her glorious flowers 〈◊〉 themselves, as being by her beauty disgraced▪ ●● her Alabaster neck appear▪ then Hye●●s covereth his s●old, as surpassed in whitenesse● to be short, Menaphon, if Samela had appeared in Ida, juno for majesty, Pallas for wisdom, and Venus for beauty had let my Samela have the Supremacy▪ why shouldest thou not then love, and think there is no life to love, seeing the end of love is the possession of such a heavenly paragon▪ but what of this, Menaphon? hast thou any hope to enjoy her person? she is a widow: true, but too high for thy fortunes: she is in distress. Ah, Menaphon; if thou hast any spark of comfort, this must set thy hope on fire▪ want is the loadstone of affection, distress forceth ●éeper than fortunes frowns, and such as are poor, will rather love then want relief: fortunes frowns are whetstones to fancy, and as the horse starteth at the spur, so love is pricked forward with distress. Samela is shipwrecked, Menaphon reléeue● her: she wants, he supplies with wealth, he s●es for love, ●yther must she grant▪ or buy ●eniall with perpetual repentant●. In this hope 〈◊〉 the poor shepherd: and with that, Menaphon laid his head down on the pis●ow, and took a sound nap, sleeping out fancy with a good slumber.  
As soon as the Sun appeared, the shepherd got him up, and 〈◊〉 fat with this hope, went merrily with his men to the folds, and there 〈◊〉 ●orth his sheep, after that he had appointed where they should graze, returned home, and looking when his guests should rise, having slept ill the last night went roundly to his breakfast: by that time he had ended his 〈◊〉, Lamedon was gotten up, and so was Samels. Against their rising, Carmela had 〈◊〉 her cookery, and Men●phon●yred ●yred in his ru●●et jacket, his red sleeves of chamlet, his blue 〈◊〉, & his round ●●ops of country cloth, bestirred him, as every joint had been fat to a sundry office. Samela no sooner came out of her Chamber, but Menaphon as one that stai●●ed piety for his passions, had her good morrow 〈…〉 lovers look: Samela knowing the fowl by the Feather, was able to cast his disease without his water, perceived that C●pid had caught the poor shapheard in his 〈◊〉, and unless he ●aught quickly to break out of the ●hare, would make him a 〈…〉 fair looks she gave him, and with a smiling sorr●● discovered how she grieved at his misfortune, ● yet 〈◊〉 him: well to breakfast they went, Lamedon & Samela said hath, but Menaphon like the Argive in the 〈…〉 of Arabia, lived with the contemplation of his mistress ●●a●ty: the Salamender lives not without ●●re, the H●rring from the water, the Mo●e from the earth, nor the Chameleon from the air: nor could Menaphon 〈◊〉 but in ●●ght of his Samela, whose breath was perfumed air, whole eyes were 〈◊〉 where in he delighted to daily, whose heart the earthly paradise, wherein he desired so ingrasse the 〈◊〉 of his love and affection: thus did the poor shepherd ●athe in a kind of bliss, while his eye f●●●ing on his mistress face, surfeited with the 〈◊〉 of her perfection. So long he gazed, that at length breakfast was ended, and he desirous to do her any service, first put her child to nurse, and then led her forth to see his folds: thinking with the ●●ght of his flocks to inveigle her, whose mind had rather have chosen any misfortune, then have deigned her eyes on the face and feature of so low a peasant. Well, abroad they went, Menaphon with his Shéephooke fringed with cruel, to signify he was chief of the Swains, Lamedon and Samela after: plodding thus over she grieve fields, at last they came to the mountains where Menaphons' flocks grazed, and there he discoursed to Samela thus. I tell thee fair Nymph, these plains that thou seest stretching Southward, are pastures belonging to Menaphon: there grows the Cinquefoil, and the Hyacinth, the Cowslip, the Primrose, and the Violet, which my ●locks shall spare for flowers to make thee Garlands, the milk of my Ewes, shall be meat for my pretty wanton, the w●ll of the fat wethers, that seem as sine as the fleece that jason fetch● from Colchos, shall serve to make Samela webs withal, the mountain toys shall be thy morning walk, and the sha●●● Valleys thy evenings Arbour, as much as Menaphon owes, shall be at Samelaes' command, if she like to live with Menaphon. This was spoken with such deep affects, that Samela could scarce keep her from smiling: yet she covered her conceit with a sorrowful countenance, which Menaphon espying, to make her merry, and rather for his own advantage, seeing Lamedon was asleep, ●●oke her by the hand, and sat down, and pulling forth his pipe, began after some melody to carol out this roundelay.  


Menaphons' roundelay.  

When tender ●wes brought home with Evening Sun,  
Wend to their fold,  
And to their holds,  
The shepherds trudge when light of day is done.  
Upon a tree,  
The Eagle Ioues fair bird did perch,  
There resteth he:  
A little fly harbour than did search,  
And did presume (though others laughed thereat)  
To perch whereas the princely Eagle sat.   

The Eagle frowned and shook his royal wings,  
And charg'de the Fly,  
From thence to high.  
Afraid in haste, the little creature s●ings,  
Yet seeks again,  
Fearful to pea●ke him by the Eagles side,  
With moody vain,  
The speedy post of Ganymede replied:  
Vassal, avant, or with my wings you die,  
Is't fit an Eagle seat him with a fly?   

The fly craved pity, still the Eagle frowned.  
The silly fly,  
Ready to die,  
Disgraced, displacde, fell groveling to the ground;  
The Eagle saw,  
And with a royal mind, said to the fly,  
Be not in awe,  
I scorn by me the meanest creature die:  
Then seat thee here: the joyful fly up s●ings,  
And sat safe shadowed with the Eagles wings.     
As soon as Menaphon had ended this ronndelay, turning to Samela, after a country blush, hes began to court her in this homely fashion: what think you▪ Samela of the Eagle for this royal deed? that he falsified the old Proverb, Aquila non capit muscas. But I mean, Samela, are you not in opinion, that the Eagle gives instance of a princely resolution, in preferring the safety of a fly, before the credit of her royal majesty? I think Menaphon that high minds are the shelters of poverty, & King's seats are coverts for distressed persons, that the Eagle in shrouding the fly did well, but a little forgot her honour. But hold think you, said Samela, is this proportion to be observed in love? I guess no, for the 〈◊〉 did it not for love, but for succour. Hath love then respect of circumstance: Else it is not love, but lust; for where the parties have no sympathy of estates, there can no firm love be fixed: discord is reputed the mother of division, as in nature this is an unrefuted principle, that it faulteth, which faileth in uniformity. He that grafts jilliflowers upon the Nettle, marreth the smell, who covets to tie the lamb and the lion in one tedder, makes a brawl: equal fortunes, are loves favourites, and therefore should fancy be always limited by Geometrical proportion, lest if young matching with old, fire and frost fall at a combat, and if rich with poor, there ha● many dangerous and braving objections. Menaphon half nipped in the pate with this reply, yet like a tall soldier stood to his tackling and made this answer: suppose gentle Samela, that a man of mean estate, whom disdainful fortune had abased, in tending to make her power prodigal in his misfortunes, being feathered with Cupid's bolt▪ were snared in the beauty of a Queen, should he rather die then discover his amours? It Queens (quoth she) were of my mind, I had rather die, then perish in base fortunes. Venus' loue● Vulcan, replied Menaphon: truth, quoth Samela, but though he was polt-footed, yet he was a god. Phao enjoyed S●pho, he a ●erriman that lived by his hands thrift, she a princess that sat invested with a diadem. The more fortunate, qd. Samela, was he in his honours, and she the less famous in her honesty. To leave these instances, replied Menaphon (for love had made him hardy) I, sweet Samela, infer these presupposed premises, to discover the baseness of my mean birth, and yet the deepness of my affection, who ever since I saw the brightness of your perfection shining upon the mountains of Arcady, like the glister of the Sun upon the topless promontory of Sicilia, was so snared with your beauty, & so inveigled with the excellence of that perfection that exceeds all excellency, that love entering my desire, hath maintained himself by force, that unless sweets Samela grant me favour of her love, & play the princely Eagle, I shall with the poor ●●ie perish in my fortunes: he concluded this period with a deep sigh: and Samela grieving a● this folly of the shepherd, gave him mildly this answer.  
Menaphon, my distressed haps are the resolution of the destinies, and the wrongs of my youth are the forerunners of my woes in age, my native home is my worst nursery, & my friends deny that which strangers prejudicially grant: I arrived in Arcady shipwrecked, and Menaphon favouring my sorrows, hath afforded me succours, for which Samela rests bound, and will prove thankful: as for love, know that Venus standeth on the Tortoise, as showing that love creepeth on by degrees, that affection is like the snail, that steals to the top of the lance by minutes: the grass hath his increase, yet never any sees it augment, the sun shadoweth, but the motion is not seen: love like those should enter into the eye, and by long gradations pass into the heart: Cupid hath wings to fly, not that love should be swift, but that he may so●re high, to avoid base thoughts. The Topaz being thrown into the fire, burns straight, but no sooner out of the flame but it freezeth: straw is soon kindled, but it is but a blaze: and love that is caught in a moment, is lost in a minute: give me leave, Menaphon, first to sorrow 〈◊〉 my fortunes, then to call to mind my husband's late funerals, then if the fates have assigned I shall fancy, I will account of thee before any shepherd in Arcady. This conclusion of Samela drew Menaphon into such an ecstasy for joy, that he stood as a man metamorphozed: at last, calling his senses together, he told her he rested satisfied with her answer, and thereupon le●t her a kiss, such as blushing Thetis receives from her choicest Leman. At this Lamedon awaked, otherwise, no doubt, Menaphon had replied, but breaking off their talk, they went so view their pastures, & so passing down to the place where the sheep grazed, they searched the shepherds bags, & so emptied their bottles, as Samela marveled at such an uncouth banquet: at last they returned home, Menaphon glorying in the hope of his success, entertaining Samela still with such courtesy, that she finding such content in the cottage, began to despise the honours of the court. Resting thus in house with the Shepherd, to avoid tedious conceits, she framed herself so to country labours, that she oft-times would lead the ●●acke● to the fields herself, and being dressed in hamely attire, she seemed like Ocnone that was amorous of Paris. As she thus often traced alongst the plains, she was noted amongst the shepherds of one Doron next neighbour to Menaphon, who entered into the consideration of her beauty, and made report of it to all his fellow swains, so that they chatted nought in the fields but of the new shepherdess. One day amongst the rest, it chanced that Doron sitting in parley with another country companion of his, amidst other tattle, they prattled of the beauty of Samela. Hast thou 〈◊〉 her, quoth Melicertus? (for so was his ●rland called) I quoth Doron, and ●●ghed to see her, not that I was in love, but that aggrieved she should be in love with such a one as Menaphon. What manner of woman is she, quoth Melicertus? As well as I can, answered Doron. I will make description of her.  


Dorons description of Samela.  
Like to Diana in her summer weed,  
Girt with a crimson rob of brightest die,  
goes fair Samela.  
Whiter then be the flocks th●t straggling feed,  
When washed by Arothusa faint they lie,  
is fair Samela.  
As fair Aurora in her morning grey,  
Decked with the ruddy glister of her love,  
is fair Samela.  
Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day.  
When as her brightness Neptunas' fancy move,  
shines fair Samela.  
Her tresses gold▪ her eyes like glassy streams,  
Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory,  
of fair Samela.  
Her cheeks like rose & lily yield forth gleams,  
Her brows bright arches framed of ebony:  
thus fair Samela  
Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue,  
And Inno in the show of majesty  
for she●● Samela.  
P●llas in 〈◊〉 all three if you will view,  
For beauty, 〈◊〉, and matchless dignity,  
yield to Samela.    
Thou ha●● (〈◊〉 Melic●●us) made such a description▪ as 〈…〉 should painst ●nt the perfection of his 〈…〉 thinks the Idea of her person represents 〈…〉 an object to my san●●e, and that I see in the discovery of her excellence, the rare beauties of-: and with that he 〈…〉 as it seemed his heart 〈…〉 as the Lapiths when they 〈…〉. Doron marveling at this sudden event, was half afraid, as if some apoplexy had astonished his senses, so that chéering up his friend, he demanded what the cause was of this sudden conceit. Melicertus no niggard in discovery of his fortunes, began thus: I tell thee Doron, before I kept sheep in Arcadle, I was a shepherd elsewhere, so famous for my flocks, as Menaphon for his folds; beloved of the Nymphs, as he liked of the Country Damsels; coveting in my loves to use Cupid's wings, to soar high in my desires, though myself were borne to base fortunes. The hobby catcheth no prey, unless she mount beyond her mark, the Palm tree beareth most boughs where it groweth highest, & love is most fortunate where his courage is 〈◊〉, and though beyond his compass. Grounding therefore on these principles, I fixed mine eyes on a Nymph, whose parentage was great, but her beauty far more excellent▪ her birth was by many degrees greater than mine, and my worth by many descents less than hers: yet 〈◊〉 Venus loved Adonis; and Luna Endymion, that Cupid had bolts feathered with the plumes of a Crow, as well as with the pens of an Eagle: I attempted, and courted her, I found her looks lightning disdain, and her forehead to contain favours for others, and frowns for me● when I alleged faith, she crossed me with Aeneas: when loyalty, she told 〈…〉 when I swore constancy, 〈…〉 when I craved a final resolution 〈…〉, she ●ld her brows full of wrinkles, and her eyes full of fury, turned her back, and shook 〈◊〉 off with a Non placet. Thus in loves I lost loves, and for her love had lost all, had I not when I near despaired the 〈◊〉 of some court●ous star, or rather the very excellence of s●me Mistri● favours salved my half despairing malady: for she seeing that I held a superstitious opinion of l●ue, in honouring him for a Deity, not in counting him a vain conceit of Poetry, that I thought it sacrilege to wrong my desires, and the basest fortune to enhance my fortune by fals●fyng my loves to a woman, she left from being so rammage, and gently came to the first, and granted me those savours she might afford or my thoughts desire: with this he● 〈◊〉 and fell again to his sigh●●, which Doron noting, answered thus. If (my good 〈◊〉) thou didst enjoy thy loves, what is the occasion thou beginnest with sigh●●, and endest with passions? Ah, Doron, there ends my joys, for no sooner had I triumphed in my favours, but the 〈◊〉 of my fortunes fell like the herbs in Syria, that flourish in the morn, and fade before night● o● like unto the fly Tyryma, that taketh life, and leaveth it all in one day. So (my Doron) did it far with me, for I had, no sooner enjoyed my love, but the heavens (envious a shepherd should have the fruition of such a heavenly Paragon) sent vnr●uocable Fates to deprive me of her life, and she is dead: Dead Doron: to her, to myself, to all, but not to my memory, for so deep were the characters stamped in my inward senses, that oblivion can never raze out the form of her excellence. And with that he 〈…〉 out of those dumps with music, (for he played on his 〈◊〉 certain 〈◊〉 he had contrived in praise of the country 〈◊〉) but plain as Doron, as plain 〈…〉 him to 〈◊〉 roundelay, & he 〈…〉 to this effect.  


D●r●n● I●gge.  
Through the shrubs as I can crack,  
For my lambs pretty one●,  
'mongst many little on●●,  
Nymphs I mean, whose hair was black,  
As the Crow,  
Like the snow,  
Her face and brow●● shine I ween,  
I saw a little one,  
A bonny pretty one,  
As bright, buxom, and as sheen,  
As was she  
On her knee,  
That lul●d the God, whose arrows warns,  
Such merry little ones,  
Such fair faced pretty ones,  
As dally in loves chiefest harms:  
Such was mine,  
Whose grey 〈◊〉  
Made me love. I ga● to wo●  
This sweet little one,  
This bonny pretty one,  
I wooed hard a day or two,  
Till she bade,  
Be not sad,  
Woe no more, I am thine own,  
Thy decrest little one,  
Thy truest pretty one:  
Thus was faith and firm love shown,  
As behoves  
Shepherds loves.    
How like you this ditty of mine own 〈◊〉, qu●th Doron? As well as my music, replied Melicertus; for if Pan and I stri●e, Midas being judge, and should hap to give me the garland, I doubt not but his Ass' ears should be doubled: but Doron, so long we dispute of 〈◊〉, and forget our labours, that ●ath our 〈…〉 to morrow our merry meeting hindered. That is true (quoth Doron) for there will be all the 〈…〉 and country Damsels, and amongst th●m 〈…〉 Men●pho● will bring 〈…〉 thee, and therefore good Melicertus, 〈◊〉 be going. With this prattle, away they went to their 〈◊〉, where we 〈◊〉 them and return to Memphon, who trump 〈◊〉 in the hope of his new loves, caused Samela to tric●e 〈…〉 her country attire, and 〈◊〉 herself brave against 〈…〉 th●n thought, to be coy were to discover her thoughts, 〈◊〉 herself up in ●rm ruff 〈…〉 and that 〈◊〉 as if Venus in 〈…〉 had thought 〈…〉 it with her loudly 〈◊〉. The 〈…〉, and 〈◊〉 they went, but Lamedon was left behind to keep the house▪ At the hour● appointed, M●naph●n, C●mela, 〈…〉 came, when all the 〈…〉 make mercy. 〈◊〉 as word was brought, that Menaphon 〈…〉 new 〈◊〉 a● the company began to 〈…〉 to prepare his eye for 〈…〉 a Heards●a●s daughter of the same Parish, that long had 〈◊〉 Menaphon, & he had filled her 〈◊〉 with stownes, 〈…〉 with 〈◊〉, and her heart with grief; yet 〈…〉 her 〈…〉 who 〈◊〉 that instant came with Menaphon in to the house. No sooner was she entered into the parlour, but her ryes gave such a shine, and her face such a brightness, that they 〈…〉 and she 〈…〉 herself among so many unknown 〈…〉 such a vermilion blush, that the country 〈…〉 themselves fell in love with this faith Nymph, 〈…〉 not 〈◊〉 Menaphon for being over the 〈◊〉 with such a beautiful creature. Doron●●gged ●●gged Melicertus 〈…〉 and so awake him out of a draime: for he was d●●yly drowned, in the contemplation 〈◊〉 excellency; sending out 〈◊〉 of sighs in remembrance of his old 〈…〉 meditating on her favour, how much she resembled her that death had deprived him of: well, her welcome was great of all the company, and for that she was a stranger, 〈…〉 to make her the mistress of the 〈◊〉 Menaphon, 〈…〉 no small 〈◊〉 the advancing of his 〈◊〉, ●oing passing 〈◊〉 and pleasant with the rest of the company, insomuch that every one perceived how the po●re Swai●●● fed upon the dignities of his Mistress graces. 〈…〉 this, 〈…〉 and Caimela winking upon her fellows, answered her 〈◊〉 with a 〈◊〉, which doubled her grief▪ for 〈◊〉 pains are more pinching i● they he gi●ded with a 〈◊〉, then if they be galled with a 〈…〉, Whiles thou there was 〈◊〉 of such looks, as every 〈…〉 an 〈◊〉 Sal●●la willing to see, the fashion of these country young Frowes, cast her eyes abroad, and in viewing every face, at last her eyes glanced an the leaks of Melicertus, whose countenance resembled 〈…〉 Lord, that as his face, but 〈…〉 upon ● stranger, she restraint of her leaks; and so taking her 〈…〉 particular abject, 〈…〉 abroad to make general survey of their Countre●●deme 〈…〉 all this gazing, he that 〈…〉 the face, fearing their eyes should feed or surfeit on his Mistress beauty: if they glanced, he thought straight they would be Rivals in his loves; if they ●●atly looked▪ then they were deeply 〈◊〉 in affection if they once 〈…〉, they had received some glance from 〈◊〉 that ma●e them so 〈◊〉 if she laughed, she 〈◊〉 ●nd at that he 〈…〉 thus sat● poor Menaphon all dinner while pained with a thousand jealous passions, keeping his teeth garders of his stomach, and his eyes, watchmen of his l●●es: but Melicertus half impatient of his new conceived thought●, determined to try how the Damsel was brought up, and whether 〈◊〉 was as 〈◊〉 〈…〉 ●●gan to broke silence 〈◊〉.  
The ●r●●es which the 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 which the 〈…〉 by, were never ●o 〈…〉 ●aies they did 〈…〉 ple●san● pa●●●es▪ were i● not 〈…〉 famous for the beauty of the 〈…〉 roundel●●●● o● our 〈…〉 disgra●●▪ 〈…〉 day with such 〈…〉 country swains s●●●● 〈…〉 company ●am●els both 〈…〉 entertain them ●●●th pretty to ●ry ●●● wits▪ 〈…〉 to this they all agreed with a Plaudite. ●he● quoth Melicertus: by your leave, since I was ●●r●● in 〈…〉, I 〈◊〉 ●● fir●t in question, and therefore 〈◊〉 come 〈…〉▪ ●●rst to you: at this Samela blushed▪ and he began 〈◊〉.  
Fair Da●●e●l, when Nar●us chattels with Iu●o▪ he ha● pardon, in that his 〈…〉 more to 〈…〉 the goddess, then to 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉 presumption▪ i● ay, 〈…〉 be overbold, forgive me: I request not 〈…〉 〈◊〉 from ●ed●omnesse. Then gentle 〈…〉 if you should be 〈◊〉: 〈…〉 the anger of the gods▪ into 〈◊〉 ships▪ what creature would you 〈…〉 〈…〉 Samela blushing that she was 〈…〉 yet 〈…〉 pregnant wit, 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 love) made him this answer▪  
Gentle shepherd, 〈…〉 maiden's to coy: lest the 〈…〉 the other 〈…〉 w●et●●ne●, and by 〈…〉 deciphered in ●●rne●● 〈…〉 in craving pardon, when you 〈…〉 grant of pardon. ●●er●●●re ● to ●●●r ●u●●●ion▪ Daphne, I remem●●●, 〈…〉 〈…〉 Virgin's 〈…〉 according to their merits, but if my wish might serve for a Metamorpho●●●, I would be ●urned into ● sheep▪ ● sheep▪ and why so mistress? I reason thus, quoth Samela, my supposition should be simple, my life quiet, my 〈◊〉 the pleasant pla●nes of Arcady, and the wealthy riches of F●●r●, my 〈◊〉 the c●●●e streams that flow from the 〈…〉 of this continent, my air should be cl●●re, my walks spacious, my thoughts at ease, and can there 〈◊〉 shepherd) a●y better premises to conclude my reply than these? But have you no other allegations 〈…〉 your resolution? Yes sir quoth she, and far greater▪ ●hen the law of our first motion, quoth hes, commands you to repeat them. Far be it, answered Samela, that I should not do of free-will any thing that this pleasant company commands: therefore thus; were I● sheep, I should he guarded from the saldes with jolly Swains, such as was Luna's Love on the hills of Lat●os; their pipes sounding like the melody of Mercury, when he lulled asleep Argus: but more, when the Damsels tracing along the Plains, should with their eyes like Sun-bright beams draw on looke● to 〈◊〉 on such sparkling 〈…〉 weary with ●eede, should I lie and look 〈◊〉 their beautie●, 〈◊〉 the ●●otted wealth of the richest 〈…〉 I should listen so their sweet lays, more 〈…〉 Syr●ns: thus feeding on the 〈◊〉 of their 〈◊〉 I should like the Tyrian better fall 〈…〉 with 〈◊〉 darling. I but, quoth Melicertus, these faire-faced damsels oft draw forth the kindest sheep 〈…〉 And what of that Sir, answered Samela, 〈…〉 with beauty, die for love? 〈…〉 there is more kindness in ●easte, 〈…〉 they die 〈◊〉 love when larks die 〈…〉 they show 〈…〉 sparks they have of 〈…〉 they draw 〈◊〉 their 〈…〉 the Sea 〈…〉 answered 〈…〉 of a weathercock, that brought forth such a wavering companion: for you, ●▪ Menaphon▪ measure your l●●kes by minutes, and your loves are like lightning▪ which no s●●ner ●●ash on the eye, but they vanish. It is then▪ quoth Menaphon, because mine eye is a ●oolish judge, and 〈◊〉 ●●● basely: which when my heart 〈…〉, it casts away ●● re●use. It were best then▪ said Pesana, to discharge such 〈◊〉 judges of their ●eates, and to ●et your eare●●earers of your love pleas. If they ●●ult, quoth Melicertus, every market ●owne ha●h a remedy, ●r el●e there is never a ●aker 〈…〉. Stay, courteous shepherd's, quoth Samela, the●e jesus are t●o broad before, they are cynical like Diogenes●ui●s ●ui●s▪ that had large ●eathers and sharp 〈◊〉▪ it little 〈◊〉 in ●●is company to bandy ta●nts o● love▪ seeing you are unwedded▪ and these all maidens addicted to chastity. You s●●ake well as a patroness of our credit, quoth Pesana, for indeed we be virgins, and evicted to virginity▪ ●ow (quoth Menaphon) that you have got a Virgin in your mouth, you will never leave chanting the word▪ ●ill you prove yourself either a Vestal or a sibyl▪ Suppose she were a Vestal, quoth Melicertus, I had almost said a Virgin (but God forbid I had ma●● such a doubtful supposition) she might carry water with Amulia in a ●●ue: for ●●ongst all the rest o● virgi●●▪ we rea●● o● none but her that wrought such a miracle▪ Pesana hearing 〈◊〉 pleasantly Melicertus' 〈◊〉 with her 〈◊〉, ●hou●ht to ●iue him ● great ●●ne to inawe ●●on▪ which 〈◊〉 cast in ●i● 〈◊〉 thus briefly. I remember 〈◊〉, ●hat Epicurus measured every man's diet by his 〈◊〉 principles: Apr●da● the great macedonian pir●●, thought every one had a letter of 〈◊〉 that sails in the Ocean: none 〈◊〉 to knock at Diogenes 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 was su●●●●ed a C●nick; and ●●●cie 〈…〉 to 〈◊〉 vanities, that you will t●●●ke Vesta a 〈…〉 of poetry▪ Samela 〈◊〉 these 〈…〉 broke off their 〈◊〉 with 〈…〉 to end 〈◊〉 s●ri●e▪ I pray you let ●● 〈◊〉 the o●●●ion of Doron, ●●r all this while neither 〈◊〉 ●or C●●●ela have ●ttered one word, but ●ate as censors at our pleas: ●were necessary he told us how his heart came thus on his halfpenny. Doron hearing Samela thus pleasant, made presently this 〈◊〉 reply: 〈◊〉 was (〈◊〉 mistress) in solemn doubt with myself, whether in being a sheep, you would be a r●m or an we? an 〈◊〉 no doubt, quoth Samela, for ●ornes are the 〈◊〉 but than that the head can bears: As Doron was ready to reply, came in suddenly to this parley ●ours or s●ue old shepherds: who broke off their prattle, that from that, they fell to drinking: and ●o after some ●●rley of their stocks, every one departed to their own 〈◊〉, where they talked of the 〈◊〉 perfection of Samela, especially Melicertus, who gotten to his own cottage, and lain down in his couch by 〈…〉 on Samelaes' shape.  
Ah Melicertus, what an object fortune this day brought to thy eyes! presenting a strange Idea to thy sight, as appeared to Achilles of his dead friend Patroclus, tresses of gold like the trammels of Sephestiaes' 〈◊〉 a face fairer than Venus, such was Sephestia▪ her eye paints her out Sephestia, her voice sounds her out Sephestia, she seemeth none but Sephestia: but seeing she is de●d, and there lives not such another Sephestia. sue to her and love her, for that it is either a self-same or another Sephestia, In this hope Melicertus tell to his slumber, but Samela was not content: for she began thus to mus● with her false: May this Melicertus be a shepherd▪ or can a country cottage afford such perfection▪ doth this coast bring forth such excellency? then happy are the virgin that shall have such suitors, and the wives such pleasing husbands, but his face is not in: 〈◊〉 with any 〈…〉 his brows contain the characters of nobility, and his looks in shepherds wee● are lordly his voice pleasing, his 〈…〉 of gentry: weigh all these equally, and 〈◊〉 Samela, is it not thy Maximu●? 〈…〉 away with these 〈…〉 could the dreaming of 〈◊〉 call Hec●or from his grave? or can the 〈◊〉 my husband rasse 〈◊〉 from the seas? Tush, 〈◊〉 ●●t to such vanities▪ ●● i● dead, and therefore grieve not t●● memory with the imagination of 〈◊〉 ●ew reuiu●, ●o● there h●●●●●ene ●ut one 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●o ●ée Virbuius▪ tw●c● a man: to sa●●● Samela then this suppose▪ i● they court th●e with 〈◊〉▪ ●ntertaine them with ●ose●: 〈…〉 i●●ee woe▪ ●ee wooed and ●or no 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈…〉 like M●ximus. Thus ●ee rested▪ and 〈◊〉 she s●●●t, all ●●rties, ●eing equally content and satisfied with 〈◊〉 except Pelana, who ●ettered with the 〈◊〉 ●● h●r well-beloved Menahpon, 〈◊〉 c●rs●n● Cupid 〈…〉 deity, that would make more daylight i● the ●●r●●●ent than o●● 〈◊〉▪ more rain 〈…〉 Iris and more loves in o●e ●●art th●n o●e settled passion: many prayer● 〈◊〉 made to Venus●or ●or re●●n●●, many 〈◊〉 to Cupid▪ many britains to Him●●n●us▪ 〈…〉 the ●y●e o●●er ●e●●res. Well 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ 〈…〉 she wa● 〈◊〉▪ she ●●ot●ered all with ●●t●enc●▪ and thou●ht ●● 〈◊〉 love 〈…〉 not to love and thus thee d●ily▪ ●r●ue out ●●e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 labour and looking to her herd, ●●a●●n● every ●ay by Doron who was 〈◊〉 ●insman▪ what su●●●sse Menaphon had in his loves▪ Thus 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉 to make a more pleasing▪ 〈…〉 amongst the● th●●. Melicertus 〈…〉 ●s ●● was wont to do with his 〈◊〉▪ dro●● 〈◊〉 ●raze ●● 〈◊〉 the swains of Menaphon 〈…〉 entertained 〈◊〉: who a●●ord●●● t● 〈…〉 every day▪ Melicertus▪ 〈…〉 daughter at the most, could n●t tell ●o●● to courtier: yet, at length calling to remem●ra●ce ●er 〈◊〉 ●it ●●s●●uered in their l●●●●is●ours●●▪ 〈…〉 ●all and ra●●et▪ seeing ●he 〈…〉 but Samela and ●e were in the 〈◊〉, ●e le●●●●s ●●ocke ●n the valley, and ●●e●t unto ●●r▪ and saluted her thus.  
mistress, ●● all e●●● that ●lance ●ut at ●●●●xcellence o● your perfection, sovereign of all such as Venus●●th ●●th 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉, Oenones●uer-match ●uer-match, Arcadie● co●e●, beauty's second 〈◊〉, all 〈◊〉: 〈…〉 like juno when she ●●r●● watched her wh●●e ●e●●er ●● the 〈…〉, as bright as 〈◊〉 Phoe●e●ou●●e● ●ou●●e● on the ●i●●oy of the r●●dy element, I was by a strange ●ttractiu●●orce ●rawne, as the adamant draws the iron, or the 〈◊〉 the ●●●aw, to 〈◊〉 your sweet sel●e in the ●●ade, and 〈◊〉 you such company as a poor Swain may y●●●● without 〈◊〉▪ which if you shall vouch to 〈◊〉 of, I shall be ●● gla● of such 〈…〉, as Paris wa●●●rst ●● his ●e●●●eloue●●●ramour▪ Samela looking upon the shepherds 〈◊〉, 〈…〉 broken sighs, thought to be pleasant wi●● her shepherd thus: Arcadies Apollo, wh●se brig●●●●● 〈◊〉 every 〈◊〉 to ●u●● as the He●o●●opion doth 〈…〉 of shepherds the 〈…〉 spirit, women's wrong, in wronging many with 〈◊〉 ●u● 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 welcome, as we vouchsafe ●● your service, 〈◊〉 of your com●●ny, as of him that is the 〈◊〉 of all 〈◊〉, and 〈…〉 upon any light par●● would 〈…〉 you to 〈…〉 your cunning, Samela m●de this reply▪ b●ca●se ●●e ●●ar●●im ●o super●ne, as i● Eph●●●● h●d 〈◊〉 him to 〈◊〉 his mother's 〈…〉 borne 〈◊〉 to ●ée 〈◊〉: and Melicertus●●●●k●ng ●●●●k●ng Samela had learned wi●h Luci●●a i● At●e●●, 〈…〉 non●●ut si●il●●, ●ma●ine● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 her 〈◊〉 t●●ee ●●ought l●ke Sap●o, 〈…〉 either in 〈…〉 Samela 〈…〉 Pri●●●u●●●nton ●●nton 〈◊〉 n●t ●e with●●t 〈◊〉 o● Nymphs to ●ollow ●im in the ●ale ●● I●a, ●e●●ty 〈…〉 attend her excellency: if the ●●e●●eard be true: i● like Narcissus you wra● not your 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of ●is●aine, you cannot but have 〈◊〉 rare ●●●ag●n to your 〈◊〉, whom I would have you 〈…〉 ●escribe as loves la●● love, if ●oue could 〈◊〉 juno: ●hy 〈◊〉 shall 〈◊〉 and I adventure with my voice to set out my mistress ●auour, for your excellence to 〈…〉 therefore ●●us: yet, Melicertus, for that he ●a● a ●urther reach, would not make any clownish ●escr●●●●on, chanted it thus c●●●ingly.  


Melicertus' description of his Mistress.  
Tune on my Pipe, the praises of my love,  
And midst thy Oaten 〈…〉.  
How fair she is that makes by mistake moun●  
And every string of thy heart's Harp to move,  
Shall I compare her form unto the Sphere,  
Whence Sun-bright Venus' 〈◊〉 her silver shine?  
Ah, more than that by just compare is thine,  
Whose Crystal looks the cloudy heavens do clear.  
How oft have I descending Ti●●● seen,  
His burning locks couch in the sea? Queen's lap,  
And beauteous Th●●● his red body wrap,  
In watery robes, as he her Lord had b●●ne?  
When as my Nymph impatient of the ●ight,  
Bade bright Atre●● with his train give place,  
Whiles she led forth the day with her fair face,  
And lent each star a more than Delian light.  
Not ●oue or nature (should they both agree,  
To make a woman of the firmament,  
Of his mixed purity) could not invent  
A skieborne form so beautiful as she.    
When Melicertus had ended this roundelay in praise of his Mistress, Samela perceived by his description, that either some better Poet than himself had made it, or else that his former phrase was dissembled: wherefore to try him thoroughly, & to see what snake lay hid undo the grass, she followed the chase in this manner. Melicertus, might not a stranger crave your Mistress name? At this the shepherd blushed, and made no reply. How now, quoth Samela▪ what? is she so mean that you shame, or so high that you fear to bewray the sovereign of your thoughts? stand not in doubt man: for be she base, I read that mighty Tamburlaine after his wise Xenocrate (the world's fair eye) passed out of the theatre of this mortal life, he chose stigmatical Tru●s to please his humorous fancy. Be she a Princess, honour hangs in high desires, and it is the token of a high mulled to venture for a Ouéene: then gentle shepherd tell me thy mistress name. Melicertus, hearing his Goddess speak sofavorably, Breathed out this sudden reply: high Samela, and therefore I fear with the Syrian Wolves to bark against the Moon, or with them of Scyrum, to shoot against the Stars in the height of my thoughts soaring too high, to fall with woeful repenting Ica●is: No sooner did mine ●ye glance upon her beauty, but as if love and fate had sat to forge my fatal disquiet, they trapped me within her looks, and haling het Idea through the passage of my sight, placed it so deeply in the centre of my heart, as ma●ger all my studious endeavour it still and ever will keep restless possession: Noting her virtues, her beauties, her perfections; her excellence, and fear of her too high borne parentage, though painfully fettered, yet have I still feared to dare so haughty an attempt to so brave a parsonage: lest she offensive at my presumption, I perish in the height of my thoughts. This conclusion broken with an abrupt passion, could not so satisfy Samela, but she would be further inquisitive. At last, after many questions, he answered thus: seeing, Samela, I consume myself, and displease you, to hazard for the salve that may cure my malady, and satisfy your question, know it is the beauteous Samela. Be there more of that name in Arcady, beside myself, qd. she? I know not, said Melicertus, but were there a million, only you are Melicertus Samela: but of a million, quoth she, I cannot he Melicertus Samela: for love hath put one arrow of desire in his quiver, but one string to his how, and in choice but one aim of affection. Have ye already, said Melicertus, set your rest upon some higher parsonage? No, said Samela, I mean by yourself, for I have heard that your fancy is linked already to a beautiful shepherdess in Arcady. At this the poor Swain tainted his cheeks with a vermilion die, yet thinking to carry out the matter with a jest, he stood to his tackling thus: whosoever, Samela, descanted of that love, told you a Canterbury Tale, some prophetical full mouth, that as he were a cobblers eldest son, would by the Last, tell where and thers she wrings, but his sowterly aim was just level, in thinking every look was love, or every fair word a pawn of loyalty. Then said Samela, taking him at a rebound, Neither map I think your glances to be fancies, nor your greatest protestation any assurance of deep affection: therefore ceasing off to court any further at this time, think you have proved yourself too tall a soldier to continue so long at battery, and that I am a favourable so that have continued solong at parley: but I change you by the love you a we your dearest mistress, not to say any more as touching love at this time. It Samela, said he, thou hadst enjoined me as Iuo●. did to Hercules, most dangerous labours, I would have discovered my love by obedience, and my affection by death: yet let me crave this, that as I began with a Sonnet, so I may end with a Madrigal. Content, Melicertus, quoth she, for none more than I love musich▪ Upon this reply the shepherd proudtu, followed with this ditty.  


Melicertus Madrigal.  
What are my sheep without their wont food?  
What is my life except I gain my love?  
My sheep consume and faint for want of blood,  
My life is lost unless I grace approve.  
No flower that sapless thrives,  
No Turtle without fere.  
The day without the Sun, doth lower for woe,  
Then woe mine eyes, unless thy beauty see  
My Sun Samelaes' eyes, by who 〈◊〉 know  
Wherein delight cansis●s where pleasure● be.  
Nought more the heart revives  
Th●● to 〈…〉 his dear,  
The stars from earthly earthly 〈…〉 their light,  
Our humours by their light possess their power:  
Samelaes' eyes fed by any weepi●e sights,  
Iufud●s my pains or i●yes, by smile or lowr●.  
So wends the source of love,  
It feeds, it falls, it ends.  
Kind looks clear to your joy, behold her eyes,  
Admire her heart, desire to taste her kisses;  
In them the heaven of joy and solace lies:  
Without them every hope his succour misses.  
Oh how I love to prove,  
Whereto this solace tends.    
Scarce had the Shepherd ended this Madrigal, but Samela began to frown, saying he had broken promise. Mel●certus alleged, if he had uttered any passion, 'twas sung, not said. Thus these lovers, in a humorous descant of their prattle, espied a far off old Lamedon and Menaphon coming towards them: whereupon kissing in conceit, and prattling with interchanged glances, Melicerius●tole ●tole to his sheep, and Samela●ate ●ate her down making of nets to ca●eh birds. At last, Lamedon and her love came, & after many gracious looks, and much good parley, helped her home with her sheep, & put them in the folds: but leaving these amorous shepherds busy in their loves, let us return at length to the pretty baby Samelas' child, whom Menaphon had put to norse in the country. This infant being by nature beautiful, and by birth noble, even in his cradle expressed to the eyes of the gazers, such glorious presages of his approaching fortunes, as if another Alciades (the arm-strong d●rling of the doubled night) by wrestling with snakes in his swaddling ●lowtes, should prophesse to the world the approaching wonders of his prowess: so did his fiery looks reflect ●●rror to the weak beholders of his ingrafie● nobility, as if some God twice-borne, like to the Th●ra●ian Bac●●●●, 〈◊〉 his he aven-borne deity, should delude our eyes with the alternate form of his infancy. Five years had full run their monthly revolution, when as this beauteous boy began to show himself among the shepherds children, with whom he had no sooner contracted familiar acquaintance, but steaite he was chosen Lord of the May-game, king of their sports, & Ringleader to their reuel● insomuch that his 〈◊〉 or another 〈◊〉 holding him by chance, ●ounted in his Kingly Majesty, and imitating honourable justice in his gamesome exercite of discipline, with tears of joy took up these prophetical terms: well do I see, where God and Fat● hath vowed felicity, no adverse fortune may expel prosperity. Pleusid●pus thou art young, thy looks high, and thy thoughts haughty, sovereignty is seated in thine eyes, & honour in thy heart: I fear, this fire will have his flame, and then am I undone in thee my Son ●y countrylife (〈◊〉 countrylife) in thy proud soaring hopes, dispoited and disrobed of the disguised array of his rest, must return ru●●et weeds to the folds where I left my fears, & haste to the court of my hell, there to invest me with my wont cares: how now Samela, wilt thou be a Sibyl of mishaps to thyself? The angry heavens that have eternised thy exile, haste establish● thy content in Arcady, my content in Arcady, that we may be no longer than my Pleusidippus days in Arcady, which I have cause to fear: for the whelps of the Lion are no longer harmless than when they are whelps, and babes are no longer to be awed then while they are babes. ay, but nature: & there with she paused, being interrupted by a tumult of boys, that by young Pleusidippus command fell upon one of their fellows, and beat him most cruelly for playing false play at Nine-holes: which she espying through the lattice 〈…〉 not choose but smile above measure▪ but when she saw him in his childish terms condemn one to death, for despising the authority bequeathed him by the rest of the boys, than she bethought her of the Persian Cyrus, that deposed his Grandfather Astyages, whose use it was, at like age to imitate majesty in like manner. In this distraction of thoughts she had not long time stayed, but Lamedon and Menaphon called her away to accompany them to the solds, whiles Pleusidippus hasting to the execution of justice, dismissed of his boyish session till their next meeting: where how imperiously he behaved himself in punishing misorders amongst his equals, in using more than jesting justice towards his untamed copesmates, I refer it to the A●●als of the Arcadians that dilate not a little of this ingenious argument. In this sort did Pleufidippus draw forth his infancy; till on a time walking to the shore, where he with his mother were wracked, to gather Cockle and pebble stones, as children are wont: there arrived on the strand a Thessalian Pirate named Eurylochus, who after he had foraged in the Arcadian confines, driving before him a large booty of ●easts to his ships, espied this pretty infant, when gazing on his face, as wanton jove gaze● on Phrygian Ganymede in the fields of Id●, he● exhaled into his eyes such deep impression of his perfection, as that his thought never thirsted so much after any prey, as this pretty Pleusidippus possession: But determining first to assay him by courtesy, before he assailed him with rigour, he began to try his wit after this manner. My little child, whence art thou, where wert thou borne, what is thy name, and wherefore wanderest thou thus all alone on the shore? I pray ye what are ye Sir, quoth Pleusidippus, that deal thus with me by interrogatories, as if I were some runaway? Wilt thou not tell me then who was thy father? said he, Good sir, if ye will needs know, go ask that of my mother. He hath said well, my Lord, quoth Romanio, who was one of his special associates, for wise are the children in these days that know their own fathers, especially if they be begotten in dogdays, when their mothers are frantic with love, & young men furious for lust. Besides, who knows not that these Arcadians are given to take the benefit of every Hodge, when they will sacrifice their virginity to Venus, though they have but a hush of nettles for their bed? and sure this boy is but some shepherds bastard at the most, howsoever this wanton face importeth more than appearance. Pleusidippus eyes at this speech resolved into ●ire, and his face in purple with a more than common courage in children of his years and stature, gave him the lie roundly in this reply: Peasant, the bastard in thy face, for I am a Gentleman: wert thou a man in courage, as thou art a cow● in proportion, thou wouldst never have so much impaired thy honesty, as to derogate from my honour. Look not in my face, but level at my heart by this that thou seest: & therewith he ●et ●riue at him with such ptbble stones as he had in his hat, insomuch that Romanio was driven to his heels, to shun this sudden haileshot, and Eurylochus resolved into laughter, and in terms of admiration most highly extolled so exceeding magnanimity in so little a body: which how available it proved, to the confirmation of his fancy that was before inflamed with his features, let them imagine that have noted the imbecility of that age, and the unresisted fury of men at Arms. Sufficeth at this instant to unfold (all of her circumstances of praise laid apart) that Eurylochus being far in love with his extraordinary lineaments awaited no farther parley, but willed his men, perforce, to hops him a shipboard, intending as soon as ever he arrived in Thessaly, by sending him to the Court as a present, to make peace with his Lord & Master Agenor, who not long before had proclaimed him as a notorious Pirate throughout all his dominions. Neither swerved he one whit from his purpose: for no sooner had he cast anchor in the port of Hadrianopolis, but he arrayed him in choice silks, and Tyrian purple, and so sent him as a prize to the king of that Country: who walking as then in his Summer garden, with his Queen the beauteous Eriphila, fell to discourse (as one well seen in Philosophy) or Herbs and flowers, as the savour or colour did occasion: and having spent some time in disputing their medicinable properties, his Lady reching him a Marigold, he began to moralise of it thus merrily: I marvel the Poets that w●re to prodigal in painting the amorous affection of the 〈◊〉 to his Hyacinth, did never observe the relation of love twixt him and the Marigold: it should seem either they were loath to incur the displeasure of women, by propounding in the way of comparison any servile imitation for headstrong wives, that love no precepts less than those pertaining unto duty; or that the ●lower not so usual in their gardens as ours, in her unacquainted name, did obscure the honour of her amours to Apollo, to whose motions reducing the method of her springing, she waketh and stéepeth, openeth and shutteth her golden leaves as he riseth and setteth. Well did you forestall▪ my exception, quoth Etiphila, in terming it a servile imitation: for were the condition of a wise so slavish, as your similitude would infer, I had as lief be your page as your spouse, your dog as your darling. Not so, sweet wife, answered Agenor, but the comparison holdeth in this, that as the Marigold resembleth the Sun both in colour and form, so each man's wife ought every way to be the image of her husband, framing her countenance to smile, when she sees him disposed to mirth, and contrariwise her eyes to tears, he being surcharge with melancholy: As the Marigold displayeth the orient ornaments of her beauty, and to the resplendent view of none but her lover Hyperion: so ought not a woman of modesty lay open the allurements of her face to any but her espoused Fere, in whose absence, like the Marigold in the absence of the Sun, she ought to shut up her doors, and solemnize continual night, till her husband, her Sun making a happy return, unsealeth her silence with the joy of hid sight. Believe me, but if all flowers (quoth Eriphila) afford such influence of eloquence to our adverse Orators, I'll exempt them all from my smell, for fear they be all planted to poison. Oft have I heard (replied Agenor) our cunning Physicians conclude, that one poison is harmless to another, which if they be so, there is no cause why a thistle should fear to be s●ung of a Natile. I can tell you sir, you were best beware, ●eft in wading to● far in comparisons o● thistles and Nettle●, you ochange not your Rose for a Nettle. If 〈◊〉 Agenor, it is no more, but my gardener shall pluck it up by the roots, and throw it over the wall as a weed. To end this jest, which else would issue to a jar, what purple flower is this in form like a Hyacinth (quoth Eriphila) so cunningly dropped with blood, as if nature had intermeddled with the Herald's art to ●mblazon a bleeding heart? It 〈◊〉 flower, into which Poets feign, Venus' 〈◊〉 dying 〈◊〉 to hi● turned affair Boy, but 〈…〉 it possible (〈◊〉 Eriphil●) that ever nature should be & so bounteous to a Boy, to give him a face in despite of women so faira? fain would I see such an object, and then would I defy beauty for imparting our excellency to any infer object. In saying those words, (as if fortune meant to present her fancy with her desired felicity) Romanio conducted by one of the Lord, came with young Pleusidippus in his hand into the privy Garden: where discoursing unto the King the intent of Eurylochus, in presenting him with such an inestimable jewel, the manner of his taking of the Strand of Arcady, with other circumstances of vowed allegiance: all which being greatefully accepted of Agenor, he sealed their several pardons, and gave them leave to depart. But when he had thoroughly observed every perfection of young Pleusidippus, he burst into these terms of passion: Had Seaborn P●ntia then an appliable ear in our idleness, that to testify her eternal Deity, she should send us a second Adonis, to delude our senses? what ever may deserve the name, fair have I seen before, beauty have I beheld in his brightest orb, but never set eye on immortality before this hour. Eriphila, likewise in no less ecstasy, seeing her eyes to ●azle with the reflex of his beauty, and her cheeks tainted with a blush of disgrace by t●o too much gazing on his face, said: that either the Sun had left his b●wer to beguile their eyes with a borrowed shape (which could not keep in his brightness,) or Cupid dis●●ounted from his mother● lap, left his how, & quiver at random, to outbrave the Thessalonian dames in their beauty. In this contrariety of thoughts, being all plunged well-nigh in a speechless astonishment, the fair child Pleusidippus, not used to such hyperbolical spactators, broke off the silence, by calling for his victuals, as one whose empty stomach slace his coming from sea, was not over-cleped with delicates. whereout Agenor, revived from him trance, wherein the present wonder had enwrapped him, demanded such question's 〈◊〉 his name and parentage, as the Pirates ignorance could not unfold: but he being able to tell no more than this, that his mother was a Shepherdess, and his own name, Pleusidippus, cut off all other interrogatories, bp calling after his childish manner again, for his dinner. Whereupon, Agenor, commanding him to be had in, and used in every respect as the child of a Prince, began in his solitary walk by his countenance to ralculate his Nativity, and measure his birth by his beauty, contracting him in thought, heir to the Kingdom of Thessaly, and husband to his daughter, before he knew whence the child descended, or who was his father.  
But leaving young Pleusidippus, thus spending his youth in the Thessalian Court, protected with the tender affection of such a courteous Foster-father as Agenor, return we where we left, back into Arcady, and meet his mother the fair Samela returning from the Folds: who having discoursed by the way as she came home to Lamedon and Menaphon, what she late saw and obserned in her Son, they both conjoined their judgements to their conclusion, that he was doubtless borne to some greater fortunes than sheepcotes could contain, and therefore it behoved her to further his Destinies with some good and liberal education, and not to detain him any longer in that trade of life, which his fortune withstood: but by the way, to rebuke him for tyrannising so Lordly over the Boys, left the neighbour Shepherds might haply intrude the name of injury on them being Strangers; for his insulting over their children. With this determination came she home, and calling for Pleusidippus, according to their former counsel, he would 〈◊〉 wise be found. Thereupon inquiry was made among all the Shepherds, diligent search in every Village, but still the most carefullest Post returned with, Non est in●entus. Which Samela hearing, thinking she had utterly lost him whom fortune had saved, began in this manner to act her unrest: Dissembling Heavens, where is your happiness? Unconstant times, what are your triumphs? Have you therefore hitherto fed me with ●ouie, that ye might at last poison me with gall. Have you ●atted me so long witly Sordenian smiles, that like the wrack of the Sirens, I might perish in your wiles? Cursed that I was to a●●ie in your courtesse● cursed that I am to taste of your cruelty! O, Plousidippus, livest thou, or art thou dead? No, thou art dead, dead to the world, dead to thy kinsfolks, dead to Cypress, dead to Arcady, dead to thy mother Samela: and with thee dies the World's wonder, thy kinsfolks comfort, Cypress soul, Arcadies hopes, thy mother's honours. Was this the prophecy of thy Sovereignty, to yield up thy life: to death so 〈◊〉? wretched was I of all women, to bring the forth to this infencie.  
O cruel The●i●, that didst revolve such unevitable fate: hardhearted death to prosecute me with such hate. Have we therefore escap●e the ●urio of the seas, to pepish on the land? was it not enough that we were exiled from higher prosperity, but we must all of us suddenly be overwhelmed with the overflow of a second adversity? my husband & my father to be swallowed in the fury of the furge, and now thou to be (and therewith her eyes distilled such abundance of tears, as stopped the passage of her plaints, & made her seem a more than second Niobe, be wailing her sevenfold sorrow under the form of weeping Flint.) Menaphon, who had overheard her all this while, as one that sought opportunity to plead his unrest, perceiving her in that extremity of agony for her sons supposed loss, stepped to her presently and cheered her up in these these term: fair shepherdess, might y● 〈◊〉 of contritian raise the dead from destruction, than were it wisdom to bewail what weeping might recall: but since such anguish is fruitless, and these plain bootless, comfort yourself with the hope of the living, and omit the tears for the dead. Why, quoth Samela, how is it possible a woman should lose him without graefe, whom she hath conceived with sorrow he was, sw●●te Menophon, the divided half of my essence, soul to my joys, and life to my delights, as beauteous in his birth, as is our bright how-hearing god, that played the Shepherd awhile for love, amidst our pleasant Areadian downs. What ever he was in heautie, quoth Meniphon, proceeded from your bounty, who may by marriage make his like when you please: therefore there is no cause, why you should so much grieve to 〈◊〉 your first work defaced, that of a new ●old can form a far better than ever he was 〈…〉 ●ere more 〈◊〉 his like proceed from 〈◊〉 ●oynes: I 〈…〉 he made the Chamber bright with his beauty when he was borne, and check● the night with the golden rays that gleamed from his looks: never more may ●●e the mother of such a 〈◊〉. Yes, Samela (quoth the 〈…〉 but if thou wilt list to my loves, I will 〈◊〉 th● with is 〈…〉 reas● as ever he was. Alas, poor Swain, said thee, thou hopest in vain, fluee and her must reap what thou hast sown, and gather into his 〈◊〉, what thou hast 〈◊〉 in the furrow. Another 〈◊〉 what I have 〈◊〉 Therewith he● 〈…〉 and s●tting his cap, he could not tell which way, in a hot● 〈…〉 uttered these words of fury: 〈◊〉 of Greece, 〈◊〉 thou my love with this 〈…〉 ingratitude? 〈◊〉 I therefore with my plenty supplied thy 〈◊〉, that thou 〈◊〉 thy pride shouldest 〈◊〉 my 〈…〉 thee iii 〈◊〉, to wound me in thy welfare with disdain Deceitful woman (an● there with he swore a holiday oath, by 〈◊〉 the god of the sepheards) either ret●rat love for love, or I will turn thee forth of doors to 〈…〉 canst, and make thee pitied for thy poverty, that 〈…〉 honoured in every man's eye through the support 〈◊〉 of thy beauty. Be like then, quoth Same●a, when you on 〈◊〉 me into your house, you 〈◊〉 not in regard of the laws of hospitality, but only with this 〈…〉 the Arms of your fancy: then Sir, I have 〈…〉 am less indebled to your 〈…〉 I thought no less, said 〈◊〉, when your struggling eye at our last ●eating, would 〈…〉 every corner of our company, that you would prove such kind 〈◊〉: but if you will needs 〈…〉 you 〈◊〉 ●aster, I warrant you: thou see which of our herd less youngsters will take you in, when I have cast you forth. Th●se▪ said she, that out-countenante Menaphon and his ●elfe, & are better able than yourself: but howsoever I find their ●auour, I henceforth de●ie you and your fellowship. And therewith in great rage she flung away into the next chamber, where her uncle Lamedon lay sleeping, who complaining of Menaphons' discourtesses, he straight invented this remedy: There was a Shepherd called Moron (brother to Doron) that not long before died of a surfeit, whose house and flock being set to sale after his decease, he bought them both forthwith for Samela, with certain remainder of money he had, and therein enfeoffed her, maugre the fury of Menaphon, who when he saw she was able to support her state without his purse, became sick for anger, and s●ent whole Eglogues in anguish. Sometime lying comi●ties in his h●d, he would complain him to the winds, of his 〈◊〉 in these or such like words: Forlorn, and forsook, since Physics doth loath thee, despair be thy death, love is a god, and despiseth thee a man: fortune blind, and cannot behold thy deserts: die, did, fond Menaphon, that ungratefully hast abandoned thy Mistress. And therewith stretehed himself upon his 〈◊〉, as thinking to have sl●p●, he● was 〈◊〉 by cares that ●●iled all rest from his eyes; where upon taking his Pipe in his hand, twin● playing and singing he plained him thus.  


Menaphons' Song in his bed.  
Your restless cares, companions of the night,  
That wrapped my joys, in folds of endless woes:  
tire on my heart, and wound it wish your spite,  
Since love and fortune proves my equal foes.  
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy dries,  
Welcome, sweet grief, the subject of my lays.  
Mourn heavens, mourn earth, your Shepherd is forlorn,  
Mourn times, and hours, since bale invades by bower,  
Curse every tongue, the place where I was borne,  
Curse every thought, the life which makes me lower.  
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days,  
Welcome, sweet grief, the subject of my lays.  
Was I not free? was I not fancies aim?  
Framed not desire my face to front disdainer  
I was; she did: but now one silly maim  
Makes me to droop, as he whom love hath slain.  
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days,  
Welcome, sweet grief, the subject of my lays.  
Yet drooping, and yet living to this death,  
I sigh, I sue for pity at her shrine:  
Whose fiery eyes exhale my vital breath;  
And make my flocks with parching heat to pine.  
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days,  
Welcome, sweet grief, the subject of my lays.  
Fade they, die I, long may she live to bliss,  
That feeds a wanton fire with fuel of her form:  
And makes perpetual summer where she is,  
Whiles I do cry, o'ertook with enules' storm.  
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days,  
Welcome, sweet griffe, the subject of my lays.    
No sooner had Menaphon ended this Ditty, but Pesana hearing that he was lately fallen sick, and that Samela and he were at mortal jars, thinking to make hay while the Sun shined, and take opportunity by her forelocks, coming into his chamber, under pretence to visit him, fell into these terms: Why, how now, Menaphon, hath your new change driven you to a nightcap? Believe me, this is the strangest effect of love that ever I saw, to freeze so quickly the heart the is set on fire so lately. Why, may it not be a burning fever aswell, quoth Menaphon, blushing? Nay, that can not be, said Pesana, since you shake for cold, not sweat for heat. Why, if it be so, it is long of cold entertainment. Why, said Pesana, hath your h●te entertainment r●●led your courage?  
No, but her undeserved hate quite hindered my conquest. You know, said Pesana, where you might have been let in long ere this, without either 〈◊〉 any such battery. With this the Shepherd was 〈◊〉▪ and Pesana ashamed: but at length regathering his spiri●●, to bowray his Martyrdom, and make his old Mistress some new music, he strained forth this Ditty.  


Fair fields proud Flora's vaunt, Why is't you smile  
when as I languish?  
You golden meads, why strive you to beguile  
my weeping anguish?  
I live to sorrow, you to pleasure spring,  
why do you spring thus?  
What will not B●re● temp●st● wrathful King  
take some pity on us?  
And send forth winter in rusty weed,  
to wail my bemoning;  
Whiles I distressed do tune my Country ●●ed  
unto my g●●ings.  
But heaven, and earth, time, place, and every power,  
have with her conspired,  
To turn my blissful sweet to baleful sour,  
since I fond desired.  
The heaven, whereto my thoughts may not aspire,  
ay me unhappy:  
It was my fault t'embrace my bane the fire,  
that forceth me to die.  
Mine be my pain, but hers the cruel cause  
of thi● strange torment:  
Wherefore no time my banning prayers shall pause,  
till proud she repent.    
Well I perceive, said Pesana, for all she hath let you fly like a Hawk that hath lost her tire, yet you mean to follow suit and service, though you get but a handful of smoke to the bargain. Not so, said Menaphon, but perhaps I seek to return an ill bargain, as dear as I bought it. If you do so, you are wiser than this kercher showeth you, said Pesana. Much idle prattle to this and had Menaphon with Pesana in his sickness; and long it was not, but that with good diet and 〈…〉 (especially by her careful atdendance) he began to 〈◊〉 or up his 〈◊〉, and listen by little and little to the lo●● 〈◊〉 storned. Leave we them to their equal 〈…〉 either of others society, and l●t us look back to Thessaly, where Samelac● stripling (now grown up to the age of 16. years) flourished in honour & feats of Arms above all the Knights of the Court, insomuch, that the 〈◊〉 of his fame, was the only news talked on throughout every 〈◊〉 in Greece. But Olympia, the mistress of his prowess (for 〈◊〉 was the King's daughter named) was 〈◊〉 that most of all exulted in the far renowned reports of his martial perfections, to whose praise he did consecrate all his ende●ours, to whose exquisite form he did dedicate all his adventures. But Hellborn fame, the eldest daughter of Bryoni●, envying the felicity of these two famous lovers, dismounted eftsoons from her brasse-sounding buildings, and 〈◊〉 herself of her secrets in the presence of young 〈◊〉, among whose Catalogue the had not forgot to discover the incomparable beauty of the Arcadian Shepherdess, whereof the young Prince no sooner had received an inkling, but he 〈◊〉 upon thorns till he had satisfied his desire with her sight. Therefore on a time sitting with his Mistress at supper, when for tabletalk it was debated amongst them, what Country 〈◊〉 the most accomplished Dames for all things? after strangers and others had delivered up their opinions without partiality, one among them all▪ who had been in Arcady, gave up his verdict thus freely: Gentlewoman (quoth he) he it no disgrace for the Moon to stoop to the Sun, for the Stars to give place when Titan appears: then I hope neither the Thessalians will ●ee moved, nor the Grecians aggrieved, if I make Apoll●s Arcady, beauty's meridian: Neither will I proceed herein as our Philosophical Po●ts are wont, that muster every mover in the Zodiacs, every ●●xed Star in the Firmament, every elemental word of art in an Almanac, to prove that Country for beauty most canonical where their Mistress abideth: when as (God w●t) had they but learned of Apelles, N● Suitor 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉, they would not have aspired above their birth, or talked beyond their sowterly bringing up. Our Arcadian Nymphs are fair and beautiful, though not begotten of the Sun's bright rays, whose eyes vaunt loves armoury to the view, whose angelical faces are to the ●bs●●●● earth instead of ●●rmament: view but this counterfeit, (and therewithal he showed the picture of Samela) and see if it be not of 〈◊〉 to draw the Sun from his Sphere, or the Moon from her Circle, to gaze as the one did on the beauty of Daphne, or all night contemplate as the other on the form of Endymion. Pleusidippus, who all this while heard his Tale with attentive patience, no sooner beheld the radiant glory of this resplendent face, but as a man already installed in eternity, he exclaimed thus abruptly: O Arcady, Arcady, workhouses of nymphs, & nursery of beauty! At which words Olympia starting up suddenly, as if she a second juno, had taken her jove in bed with Alcmene's; and overcasting the Chamber with a frown that was able to mantle the World with an eternal night, she made passage to her choler in these terms of contempt: Beardless upstart of I know not whence, have the favours of my bounty (not thy desert) entered thee so deeply in overwéening presumption, that thou shouldest be the foremost in derogation of o●● dignity & blaspheming of my beauty? I tell thee miscreant, I scorn thy clownish Arcady with his inferior comparisons, as one that prizeth her perfection above any created constitution. Pleusidippus, upon this speech stood plunged in a great perplexity, whether he should excuse himself mildly, or take her up roundly: but the latter being more level to his humour then the former, he began thus to rouse up his fury: Disdainful dame, that upbraidest me with my birth as it were base, and my youth as it were boyish: know that though my Parents and Progeny are envied by obscurity, yet the sparks of renown that make my Eagle-minded thoughts to mount the heavenly fire imprisoned in the pannicles of my crest, inciting me to more deeds of honour, then stout Perseus effected with his sauchen in the fields of Hesperia, ascertaines my soul I was the Son of n● coward, but a gentleman: but 〈…〉 of parentage, is such an eyesore to thy envy, hold, take thy savours (and there with he threw her glo●e) and immortalize whom thou wilt with thy toys, for I will to Arcady in spite of thee, and thy affinity, there either to 〈◊〉 out mischance, or a new Mistress.  
With this, in a great ●age he rose from the hoard, & would have mounted himself to ●●part in that mood, had not the Lords & gentlemen there present dissuaded him from such an unadvised enterprise. Neither was this unkindness kept so secret, but it came to the King's ear as he was new risen from dinner, who for the love he ●ar● to Pleusidippus, whom he had honoured with Knighthood not long before, and for the toward hopes he saw in him, took pains to go to the chamber where they were, & finding his daughter in strange manner perplexed with the thoughts of Pleusidippus departure, her eyes red, and her cheeks all to be blubbered with her jealous tears, he took her up in this manner. Daughter, I thought I had chose such a one to be the object of your eye, as ye might have every way loved and honoured as the Lord of your life, and not have controlled as the slave of your lust. Did I therefore grace him with my countenance, the you should distain him with your taunts? peevish girl, I advise thee on my displeasure, either reconcile thyself betimes, and reform thy unreverent terms, or I will disclaim the love of a Father, and deal by thee no more as a daughter. Olympia, who already had sufficiently bitten on the bridle, took these words more unkindly than all her former bitterness, which she digested but sourly: nevertheless making necessity the present times best policy, she humbled herself as she might with modesty, and desired the best interpretation of what was passed. Pleusidippu●, whose courteous inclination could not withstand this submission, in sign of reconcilement, gave her a stoccado des labies: yet was he not so reconciled, but he kept on his purpose of going to Arcady, whereat Olympia (though she grudged inwardly, yet being loath to offend) held her peace, and determined to bestow upon him a remembrance, whereby he might be brought to think on her in his absence, which was the device of a bleeding heart flothig in the Sea wa●es, curiously stamped in Gold, with this ●otto about it: portum aut mortem, alluding as it seemed, to the device in his shield, wherein (because it was taken up by Eurylochus on the shore) was cunningly drawn in a field argent, the sea waves with Venus sitting on the top, in token that his affection was already fettered. Here hold this (said she) my sweet Pleusidippus, and hang it about thy neck, that when thou art in Arcady, it may be ever in thy eye, so shall these drops of ruth that paint out a painful truth withdraw thy fancy from attracting strange beauty: which said, the tears gushed from her eyes, and Agenor's likewise, who gave him nothing so much in charge, as to make haste of his retain. Pleus●●ippus, though he could have been content to have done the like for company, yet he had such a mind on his journey, that he broke off such ceremonies, and hasted a shipbord, & in a Bark bound for Arcady, having the wind favourable, made a short cut: so as in a day and nights sailing, he arrived on the shore joining on the Promontory where he, his mother, and Lamedon were first wracked.  
Leave we him wandering with some few of his train that came with him along the seaside, to seek out some Town or village where to refresh themselves, and let us a while to the Court of Democles, where our History began▪ who having committed his daughter with her tender babe, her husband Maximinus and Lamedon his uncle, without ear or Mariner, to the fury of the merciless wanes, determined to leave the succession of his kingdom to uncertain chance: for his Q. with Sephestiacs loss (whom she deemed to be dead) took such thought, that within short time after she died Democles as c●relesse of all weathers, spent his time Epicure-like in all kind of pleasures, that either art or expense might afford, so as for his dissolute life he seemed another Heliogabalus, deriving his security from that grounded tranquillity, which made it proverbial to the world, No heaven but Arcadia. Having spent many years in this variety of vanity, Fame determining to apply herself to his fancy, s●nnded in his ear the singular beauty of his daughter Samela: he although he were an old Colt, yet had not cast all his wanton teeth, which made him under the brute of being sick of a grievous Apoplexy, steal from his Court secretly in the disguise of a shepherd, to come and seek out Samela, who not a little proud of her new flock, lived more contented then if she had been Queen of Arcady, and Melicertus joying not a little that she was parted from Menaphon, used every day to visit her without dread, and court her in such shepherds terms as he had, which how they pleased her, I leave to you to imagine, when as not long after she vowed marriage to him solemnly in presence of all the Shepherds, but not to be solemnized till the prophecy was fulfilled, mentioned in the beginning of this History. Although this penance exceeded the limits of his patience, yet hoping that the Oracle was not uttered in vain, and might as well (albeit he knew not which way) be accomplished in him as in any other, was contented to make a virtue of necessity, and await the utmost of his destiny. But Pleusidipp●s, who by this time had perfected his policies, exchanging his garments with one of the Heardgroomes of Menaphon, tracing over the plains in the habit of a shepherd, chanced to meet with Democles as he was new come into those quarters, whom mistaking for an old shepherd he began many impertinent questions belonging to the Sheep-cotes; at last he asked him if he knew Samelaes' sheepfold: who answering doubtfully to all alike, made him half angry: and had not Samela passed by at that instant, to fill her bottle at a spring near the foot of the Promontory, he should like enough have had first handsel of our new shepherds shéephooke. But the wonder of her beauty so wrought with his wounded fancy, that he thought report a partial spreader of her praises, and same too vase to talk of such forms. Samela espying this fair shepherd so far overgone in his gazing, stepped to him, and asked him if he knew her that he so ouerlookt her. Pardon me, fair shepherdess (said Pleusidippus,) if it be a fault, for I cannot choose being Eagle-sighted, but gaze on the Sun the first time I see it. And truly I cannot choose but compare you to one of Aesop's Apes, that finding a Glow-worm in the night, took it for a fire: and y●● seeing a face full of deformities, mistake it for the Sun. Indeed it may us mine eye● made opposite to such an object may fail in their office, having their lights rebated by such brightness. Nay, not unlike, quoth Samela, for else out of doubt you would see your way better. Why, quoth Pleusidippus, I cannot go● not of the way 〈…〉 I meet such glistering Goddesses in my way▪ How now, Sir Paris, are you out of your Arithmoticke? I think you have lost your wits with your eyes, that mistake Arcady for Ido, and a Shepherdess for a Goddess. How ever it please you (quoth Pleusidippus) to ●●rogate from my pr●wasse by the title of Paris, know that I am not so far out of my Arithmetic, but that by mistiplication I can make time of one, in an hours warning, or be as good as a cipher to fill up a place at the worst hand: for my wit sufficeth, be it never so simple, to prove both re and voce, that there can be no vacuum in rerum natura: and mine eyes, or else they dec●iue me, will enter so far in art, as, niger est 〈◊〉 albo, and teach me how to discern twixt black and white.  
Much other circumstance of prattle passed between them, which the Arcadian records do not show, nor I remember: sufficeth, he pleaded love, and was repulsed: which drove him into such a choler, that meeting him supposed Shepherd, who lying under a bush had all this while everheard them, he entered into such terms of indignation, as jove shaking his earth-quaking hair, when h● sat in consultation of Lycaon. Wherefore Democl●s perceiving Pleusidippus repulsed, who was every way graced with the ornaments of nature, began to cast over his bad penniworths, in whose face age had surrowed her wrinkles, except he● should lay his Crown down at her feet, and tell her he was King of Arcadia; which in Commonwealths respects, seeming not commodi●ns, he thought to turns a new leaf, and make thisyoung Shepherd the means to perfect his purpose. He had not far from that place a strong Castle, which was inhabited as then by none but Tilsmen and Heardgr●mes, thither did be persuade Pleusidippus to carry her perforce, and ●●ert that by constraint, that he could not achieve by entreaty; who listening not a little to this counsel, that was never plotted for his advantage, presently put in practice what he of late ga●e in precepts, and waiting till the evening that Samela should fold her sheep; having given hi● men the watchword, ma●ger all the shepherds adjoining, he mounted her behind him; and being by Democles directed to the Castle, he made such ha●orke among the stubboorne. Herdsmen, that will they, nill they, he was Lord of the Castle. Yet might not this prevail with Samela, who constant to her old shepherd, would not entertain any new love: which made Plousidippus thi●●lle all his Harvest lost in the reaping, and blemish all his delights with a mournful drooping.  
But Democles, that looked for a mountain of Gold in a Molehill, finding her alone, began to discourse his love in more ample mann●r then ever Pleusidippus, telling her how he was a King, what his revenues were, what power he had to advance her, with many other proud vaunts of his wealth, and prodigal terms of his treasure. Samela hearing the name of a King, and perceiving him to be her Father, stood amazed like Medusae. Metamorphosis, and blushing 〈◊〉 with intermingled sighs, began to think how injurious Fortune was to her shown in such an incestuous Father: but he, hote-spurred in his purpose, gave her no time to deliberate or consider of the matter, but required either a quick consent, or a present denial. She told him, that the Shepherd Mdicertu● was already entitled in the ine●rest of her beauty, wherefore it was in vain what he or any 〈◊〉 th●● could plead in the way of persuasion.  
●●ee thereupon entering into a large field of the baseness of shepherds, and royalties of Kings, with many other assembled sembled arguments of delight, that would have fetch Venus from her Sphere to dispo●●: but Samela, whose mouth could digest no other meat save only her sweet Melicertus, ashamed so long to hold ●arley with her father about such a matter, flung away to her withdrawing Chamber in a dissembled rage; and there, after her wont manner bewailed her misfortune●.  
Democles, plunge● thus in a Labyrinth of restless passions, seeing Melicertus' figure was so deeply printed in the centre of her thoughts, as neither the resolution of his fancy, his Metamorphosis from a King to a travailer, Crowns, Kingdom, preferments, (batteries that soon over throw the fortress of women's fantasses) when Democles, I say, saw that none of these could remove Samela, hearing that the Arcadian Shepherds were in an uproar for the loss of their beautiful, Shepherdess, his hot love changing to a bird of coy disdain, he intended by some revenge, either to obtain his love, or satisfy his hate: whereupon thoroughly resolved, he stole away secretly in his shepherds apparel, and got him down to the plains, where he found all the Swains in a mutiny about the recovery of their beautiful Paragon. Democles stepping amongst the rout, demanded the cause of their controversy. Marry sir, quoth Doron, bluntly, the flower of all our garland is gone. How mean you that sir, quoth he? We had, answered Doron, an Ewe amongst our Rams, whose sléece was as white as the hairs that grow on Father Boreas chin, or as the dangling dewlap of the silver Bull, her front curled like to the Erimanthyan Boar, and spangled like to the worsted stockings of Saturn, her face like Mars treading upon the milk-white clouds: believe me, Shepherd, her eyes like the fiery torches tilting against the Moon: This Paragon, this none, such, this Ewe, this Mistress of our flocks, was by a wily Fox stolen from our folds, for which these shepherds assemble themselves to recover so wealthy a prize. What is he, quoth Menaphon, that Doron is in such debate with? Fellow, canst thou tell us any news of the fair Shepherdess, that the Knight of Thessaly hath carried away from her fellow Nymphs. Democles thinking to take opportunity by the forehead, & seeing time had feathered his bolt, willing to assay as he might to hit the mark, began thus. Shepherds, you see my profession is your trade, and although my wandering fortunes be not like your home-born favours, yet were I in the Groves of Thessalian Tempe, as I am in the plains of Arcady, the Swains would give me as many due honours, as they present you here with submiss reverence. Beauty that drew Apollo from heaven to play the Shepherd, that fetched jove from heaven to bear the shape of a Bull for Agenor's daughter, the excellence of such a metaphysical virtue, I mean (shepherds) the fame of your fair Samela, hovering in the ears of every man as a miracle of nature, brought me from Thessaly to feed mine eyes with Arcadies' wonder: stepping alongst the shore to come to some sheepecote, where my weary limbs might have rest. Love that for my labours thought to lead me to fancy's pavilion, was my conduct to a Castle, where a Thessalian Knight lies in hold; the Portcullis was let down, the bridge drawn, the court of guard kept: thither I went, & for my tongue I was known to be a Thessalian, I was entertained and lodged: the Knight whose years are young, and valour matchless, holding in his arms a Lady more beautiful than loves Queen, all blubbered with tears, asked me many questions, which as I might I replied unto: but while he talked, mine eye surfeiting with such excellence, was detained upon the glorious show of such a wonderful object: I demanded what she was, of the standers by, and they said she was the fair Shepherdess, whom the Knight had taken from the Swains of Arcady; and would carry with the first wind that served into Thessaly: this (shepherds) I know, and grieve that thus your loves should be ouermatcht with Fortune, and your affections pulled back up contrariety or destiny. Melicertus hearing this, the fire sparkling out of his eyes, began thus, I tell thee, shepherd, if Fates with their forepointing pencils did pen down, or fortune with the deep variety resolve, or love with his greatest power determine to deprive Arcadia of the beautiful Samela, we would with our blood sign down such spells on the plains; that either our gods should summon her to Elysium, or she rest with us quiet & fortunate: thou seest the shepherds are up in Arimes to revenge, only it rests who shall have the honour and principality of the field. What needs that question, quoth Menaphon, am not I the King's Shepherd, and chief of all the bordering Swains of Arcadia? I grant, quoth Melicertus, but am not I a Gentleman, though tired in a shepherds skincote, superior to thee in birth, though equal now in profession? Well, from words they had fallen to blows, had not the shepherds parted them, and for the avoiding of further troubles, it was agreed that they should in two Eglog●es make description of their love: and Democles, for he was a stranger, to fit Censor, and who best could decipher his Mistress perfection, should be made general of the rest. Menaphon and Melicereus condestended to this motion, and Democles sitting as a judge, the rest of the shepherds standing as witnesses of this combat, Menaphon began thus.  


Menaphons' Eglogue.  
Too weak the wit, too slender is the brain,  
That means to mark the power and worth of love:  
Not one that lives (excep the hap to prove)  
Can tell the sweet, or tell the secret pain.  
Yet I that have been apprentice to the grief,  
Like to the cunning Seaman, from afar  
By guess will take the beauty of that star,  
Whose influence must yield me chief relief.  
You Censors of the glory of my dear,  
With reverence, and lowly bend of knee:  
Attend and mark what her perfections be,  
For in my words my fancies shall appear.  
Her locks are plighted like the fleece of wool,  
That jason with his Grecian mates atchiu'de:  
As pure as gold, yet not from gold derived,  
As full of sweets, as sweet of sweets is full:  
Her brows are pretty tables of conceit,  
Where love his records of delight doth qu●te:  
On them her dallying locks do daily ●lore,  
As love full of● doth feed upon the b●ite:  
Her eyes, fair eyes, liketh the purest lights  
That animate the Sun, or ●●eere the day:  
In whom the shining Sunbeams brightly play,  
Whiles fancy doth on them divine delights.  
Her cheeked like ripened Lilies steeped in wine,  
Or fair Pomegranate kernels washed in milk:  
Or snow-white threads, in nets of crimson silk,  
Or gorgeous clouds upon the suns decline.  
Her lips like Roses ouerw●sht with dew,  
Or like the purple of Nar●issus flower:  
No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power,  
But by her breath, her beauties do renew.  
Her crystal chin like to the purest mould,  
Enchased with daintiest Daisies soft and white:  
Where fancies fair Pavilion once is pight,  
Whereas embraced his beauties he doth hold.  
Her neck like to an I●orie shining Tower,  
Where through with azure veins sweet Nectar runne●:  
Or like the down of Swans where S●ness● wodnes,  
Or like delight that doth itself devour.  
Her paps are like fair Apples in the prime,  
As round as orient pearls, as soft as down:  
They never veil their fair through winter's frown,  
But from their sweets love sucked his Summer time.  
Her body's beauties best esteemed bower,  
Delicious comely, dainty, without stain:  
The thought whereof (not touched) hath wrought my pain,  
Whose fair, all fair and beauties doth devour.  
Her maiden wont, the dwelling house of pleasure,  
Not like, for why no like surpasseth wonder:  
O blest is he may bring such beauties under,  
Or search by suit the secrets of that treasure.  
Devoured in though, how wanders my deuio●?  
What rests behind I must divine upon.  
Who talks the best, can say but ●airer none:  
Few words well couched do most content the wise.  
All you that hear, let not my silly style  
Condemn my zeal: for what my tongue should say,  
Serves to enforce my thoughts to seek the way,  
Whereby my woes and cares I do beguile.  
Seld speaketh Love, but sighs his secret pains,  
Tears are his Truce-men, words do make him tremble●  
How sweet is love to them that can dissemble,  
In thoughts and looks, till they have reaped the gains?  
A lonely I am plain, and what I say  
I think, yet what I think tongue cannot tell:  
Sweet Censors, take my silly worst for well:  
My faith is firm, though homely be my lay.    
After the hapless Menaphon had in this homely discourse shadowed his heavenly ●rlight, the shepherd Melicertus, after some pause, began in this sort.  


Melicertus' Eglogue.  
What need compare, where sweet exceeds compare?  
Who draws his thoughts of love from fenceless things,  
Their pomp and greatest glory doth impair,  
And mount loves heaven with over-leaden wings.  
Stones, herbs, and flowers, the foolish spoils of earth,  
Floods, metals, colours, dalliance of the eye:  
These show, conceit is stained with too much dearth:  
Such abstract fond compares make cunning dye.  
But he that hath the feeling taste of love,  
Derives his essence from no earthly joy:  
A weak conceit his power cannot approve,  
For earthly thoughts are subject to annoy.  
Be whist, be still, be silent Censors now,  
My fellow-swaine▪ haas told a pretty Tale,  
Which modern Poets may perhaps allow,  
Yet I condemn the terms, for they are stale.  
Apollo, when my Mistress first was borne,  
Cut off his locks, and left them on her head,  
And said, I plan● these wires in Nature's scorn,  
Whose beauty shall appear when Time is dead.  
From forth the Crystal Heaven, when she was made,  
The purity thereof did ●aint her brow:  
On which the glistering Sun that sought the shade,  
'Gan set, and there his glories, doth avow.  
Those eyes, fair eyes, too fair to be described,  
Were those that erst the Chaos did reform:  
To whom the heavens their beauties have ascribed,  
That fashion life in man, in beast, in worm.  
When first her fair delicious cheeks were wrought,  
Aurora brought her blush, the Moon her white:  
Both so combined as passed natures thought,  
Compiled those pretty Orbs of sweet delight.  
When Love and Nature once were proud with play,  
From both their lips her lips the coral drew:  
On them doth fancy sleep, and every day  
Doth swallow-ioy, such sweet delights to view.  
Whilom, while Venus' son did seek a bower,  
To sport with Psyche's, his desired dear,  
He chose her chin, and from that happy stowre,  
He never stints in glory to appear.  
Desires and joys that long had served Love,  
Behold a hold, whence pretty eyes might woe them;  
Love made her neck, and for their boast behove  
Hath shut them there, whence no man can undo them.  
Once Venus dreamt upon two pretty things,  
Her thoughts they were affections chiefest nests:  
She sucked and sighde, and bathed her in the springs,  
And when she waked, they were my Mistress breasts.  
Once Cupid sought a hold to couch his kisses,  
And found the body of my best beloved,  
Wherein he closed the beauty of his blisses,  
And from that bower can never be removed.  
The Graces erst, when Alcedelian springs▪  
Were waxen dry, perhaps did find her fountain  
Within the bale of bliss, where Cupid's wings  
Do shield the Nectar fleeting from the mountain.  
No more, fond man: things infinite, I see,  
Brook no dimension: hell a foolish speech,  
For endless things may never talked be,  
Then let me live to honour and beseech.  
Sweet Nature's pomp, if my deficient phrase  
Hath stained thy glories by too little skill,  
Yield pardon, though mine eye that long did gaze,  
Hath left no better pattern to my quill.  
I will no more, no more will I detain  
Your listening ears with dalliance of my tongue:  
I speak my joys, but yet conceal my pain,  
My pain too old, although my years be young.    
As soon as Melicertus had ended this Eglogse, they expected the doom of Democles, who hearing the sweet description, wherein Melicertus described his Mistress, wondered that such rare conceits could be harboured under a shepherds grey clothing: at last he made this answer. Arcadian Swains, whose wealth is content, whose labours ●●e tempered with sweet loves, whose minds aspire not, whose thoughts brook no envy, only as rivals in affection, you are friendly emulatory in honest fannie: sith fortune (as enemy to your quiet) hath rest you of your fair Shepherdess (the world's wonder, & Arcadies' miracle) and one of you as champion must lead the rest to revenge, both desirous to show your valour as your forwardness in affection, & yet (as I said) one to be whole chieftain of the train, I award to Melicertus that honour (as to him that hath most curiously portrayed out his Mistress excellence) to hear the sole rule and supremacy. At this, Menaphon grudged, and Melicertus was in an extasse of joy, so that gathering all his ●orces together of stout headstrong clowns amounting to the number of some aco. he appareled himself in armour, colour sabled, as mourning for his Mistress: in his shield he had figured the waves of the sea, Venus sitting on them in the height of all her pride. Thus marched Melicertus forward with old Domocle●, the supposed Shepherd, till they came to the Castle where Pleusidippus and his fair Samela were resident. As soon as they came there, Melicertus begird the Castle with such a siege, as so many shéepish Cavaliers could furnish: which when he had done, summoned them in the Castle to parley: the young Knight slept upon the walls, and seeing such a crew of base companions, with jackets and rusty bills on their barks, fell into a great laughter, and began to taunt them thus: Why, what strange Metamorphosis is this? Are the plains of Arcady, whilom filled with labourers, now overlaide with Lances? Are sheep transformed into men, swains into soldiers, and a wandering company of poor Shepherds, into a worthy troop of resolute Champions: No doubt, either Pan means to play the God of war, or else these be but such men as raze of the teeth of Cadmus. Now, I see the beginning of your wars, and the pretended end of your stratagems: the shepherds having a madding humour like the greeks to seek for the recovery of Helena, so you for the regaining of your fair Samela. Here she is a shepherdess, & I a Priam to defend her with resistance of a ten years st●ge●yet, for I were loath to have any castle sacht like Troy, I pray you tal● me, which is Agamemnon? Melicertus hearing the youth speaking thus proudly, having the sparks of honour fresh under the cinders of poverty, incited with love and valour, (two things to animate the most dastard Thersites to enter combat against Hercules) answered thus: Unknown youngster of Thessaly, if the fear of thy hardy deeds, were like the diapason of thy threats, we would think the Castle of longer siege, then either our ages would permit, or our valour adventure: but where the shelf is most shallow, there the water breaks most high: empty vessels have the highest sounds, hollow rocks the vowdest echoes, & prattling Gloriosors the smallest performance of courage: for proof whereas, swing thou hast made a rape of fair Samela, one of her vowed shepherds is come for the safetile of her word● to self, to challenge thee to single combat: if thou overcome me, thou shalt freely pass with the shepherdess to Thessaly: if I vanquish thee, thou shalt feel the burden of thy rashness, and Samela the sweetness of her liberty. Pleusidippus marveled at the resolution of the shepherd: but when Domocles heard how if he won, she should be transported into Thessaly, a world of sorrows tumbled in his discontented brain, that he hammered in his head by many means to stay the fair Samela: for when Pleusidippus in a great choler was ready to throw down his gauntlet, and to accept of she comda●● Democles stepped up, and spoke thus: Worthy Mirrors of resolved magnanimity, whose thoughts are above your fortunes, and whose valour more than your revenues, know that Bitch's that puppy in haste, bring forth blind Whelps, that there is no herb sooner sprung up than the Spattarmia, nor sooner fadeth: the fruit too soon ripe are quickly rotten, that deeds done in haste are repent at leisure. Then brave m●n in so weighty a cause, and for the conquest of so excellent a Paragon, let not one minute begin and end the quarrel, but like Fabius of Rome use delay in such dangerous exploits, when honour sits on wreaths of Laurel to give the Vie●or his Garland: defer it some three days, & then in solemn manner end the combat. To this good motion, not only Pleusidippus, and Melicertus agreed, but all the company were consenting, and upon pledges of truce given, they rested. But Democle● seeing in covert he could not conquer, and that in despairing loves secrecy was no salve, he dispatched letters to the Nobility of his Court, with straight charge that they should be in that place within three days with 10000 strong. This news came no sooner to the General of his forces, but levying so many approved Soldiers, he marched secretly by night to the place Democles in his Letters had prescribed, and there joyfully entertained by the King, they were placed in ambash, ready when the signal should he given to issue out of the place, & perform their Sovereign's command. Well, the third day being come, no sooner did Titan arise from the watery couch of his Leman, but these two Champions were ready in the lists, accompanied with the rout of all the Arcadian shepherds, and old Democles whom they had appointed for one of the judges. Pleusidippus seeing Melicercus advance on his shield the waves of the Sea, with a Venus sitting upon them, marveled what the shepherd should be that gave this Arms, and Melicercus was as much amazed to see & strange Thessalian Knight vaunt his Arms without difference: yet being so fraught with direful revenge, as they scorned to salute each other so much as with threats, they fell toughly to blows. Samela standing on top of a Turret, and viewing the combat, the poor Lady gréeuing, that for her cause such a stratagem should arise in Arcady, her countenance full of sorrow, & floods of tears falling from her eyes, she began to breath out her passion. Unfortunate Samela, borne to mishaps, & forepointed to sinister fortunes, whose blooms were ripened to mischance, and whose fruit is like to wither with despair, in thy youth sat discontent pruning herself in thy forehead, now in thy age sorrow hides herself amongst the wrinkles of thy face; thus art thou infortunate in the prime, and crossed with contrary accidents in thy autumn, as hapless as Helen's, to have the burden of wars laid on the wings of thy beauty. And who must be the Champion? whose sword must pierce the Helmet of thine enemy? Whose blood must purchase the freedom of Samela, but Melicercus? if he conquer, than Samela triumphs, as if she had been chief Victor in the Olympiades': if he lose every drop falling from his wounds into the centre of his thoughts, as his death to him, so shall it be to me, the end of my loves, my life, and my liberty. As still she was about to go forward in her passion, the trumpet sounded, and they fell to fi●ht in such furious sort, as the Arcadians and D●mocles himself wondered to see the courage of the Shepherd, that he tied the Knight to such a ●ore task. Pleusidippus likewise feeling an extraordinary kind of force, & seeing with what courage the Knight of the Shepherds fought, began to conjecture diversly of the war, and to fear the event of the combat. On the contrary part, Melicertus half wearied with the heavy blows of Pleusidippus, stood in a maze how so young a wa● should be so expert in his weapon.  
Thus debating diversly in their several thoughts, at length being both weary, they stepped back, and leaning on their swords, took breath, gazing each on other. At last, Pleusiddippus burst into these speeches. Shepherd in life, though now a Gentleman in armour, if thy degree be better, I glory, I am not disgraced with the combat: tell me, how ●●rest thou so far wrong 〈◊〉, as to bear mine arms on thy shield? Princocks (quoth Melicercus) thou liest, they be mine own, and thou contrary to the law of Arms bearest my Crest without difference, in which quarrel, seeing it concerneth my honour, I will revenge it as far as my loves: and with that he gave such a charging blow at Pleusidippus helm, that he had almost overturned him: Pleusidippus left not the blow unrequited, but doubled his force: insomuch that the hazard of the battle was doubtful, and both of them were ●aine to take breath again. Democles seeing his time, that both of them were so weakened, gave the watchword, and the ambush leapt out, slaughtered many of the Shepherds, put the rest to flight, took the two Champions prisoners, and sacking the Castle, carried them and the fair Samela to his Court: letting the Shepherdess have her liberty, but putting Melicertus and Pleusidippus into a deep and dark dungeon.  
Where leaving these passionate Lovers in this Catastrophe, again to Doron, the homely blunt Shepherd: who having been long enamoured of Carmela, much good wooing passed betwixt them, and yet little spéeding: at last, both of them met hard by the Promontory of Arcady, she leading forth her sheep, and he going to see his new yeaned Lambs. As soon as they met, breaking a few quarter blows with such country glances as they could, they géered one at another lovingly. At last, Doron manfully began thus.  
Carmela, by my troth good morrow, it is as dainty to see you abroad, as to eat a mess of sweet milk in july: you are proved such a housedove of late, or rather so good a huswise, that no man may see you under a couple of Capons: the Churchyard may stand long enough ere you will come to look on it, and the Piper may beg for every penny he gets out of your purse: but it is no matter, you are in love with some stout Ruffler, and yet poor folks, such as I am, must be content with pottage: and with that, turning his back, he smiled in his sleeve, to see how kindly he had given her the ●ob: which Carmela seeing, she thought to be even with him thus.  
Indeed, Doron, you say will, it is long since we met, and our house is a grange house with you: but we have tied up the great dog, and when you come, you shall have green rushes, you are such a stranger: but it is no matter, soon hot, soon cold, he that mingles himself with draff, the hogs will eat him: and she that lays her love on an unkind man, shall find sorrow enough to eat her sops withal. And with that, Carmela was so full stomached that she wept.  
Doron, to show himself a natural young man, gave her a few kind kisses to comfort her, and swore, that she was the woman he loved best in the World, and for proof (quoth he) thou shalt hear what I will praise: and you (quoth she) what I will perform. And so taking hand in hand, they kindly sat them down, and began to discourse their loves, in these Eglogues.  


Dorons Eglogues joined with Carmelaes'.  
Sat down, Carmela, here are cubs for Kings,  
sloes black as jet, or like my Christmas shoes:  
Sweet Sidar, which my leathern bottle brings:  
Sat down, Carmela, let me kiss thy toes.  Carmela. 
Ah, Doron, ah my heart, thou art as white  
As is my mother's Calf, or brinded Cow:  
Thine eyes are like the slow-wormes in the night,  
Thine hairs resemble thickest of the snow.  
The lines within thy face are deep and clear,  
Like to the furrows of my father's wain:  
Thy sweat upon thy face doth oft appear,  
Like to my mother's fat and kitchen gain.  
Ah, leave my toe, and kiss my lips, my love,  
My lips are thine, for I have given them thee:  
Within thy cap 'tis thou shalt wear my glove,  
At football sport thou shalt my champion be.  Doron. 
Carmela dear, even as the golden ball  
That Venus got, such are thy goodly eyes,  
When cherries juice is jumbled there withal:  
Thy breath is like the steam of apple-pyes.  
Thy lips resemble two Cucumbers fair,  
Thy teeth like to the tusks of fattest swine,  
Thy speech is like the thunder in the air:  
Would God thy toes, thy lips and all were mine.  Carmela. 
Doron, What thing doth move this wishing grief?  Doron. 
This Love, Carmela, ah, 'tis cruel Love:  
That like a slave, and caitiff villain thief,  
Hath cut my throat of joy for my behove.  Carmela. 
Where was he borne?  Doron. 
In faith I know not where:  
But I have heard much talking of his dart:  
Ay me poor man, with many a trickling tear,  
I feel him wound the forchearse of my heart.  
What, do I love? O no, I do but talk.  
What, shall I die for love? O no, not so:  
What, am I dead? O no, my tongue doth walk.  
Come kiss Carmela, and confound my woe.  Carmela. 
Even with this kiss, as once my father did,  
I seal the sweet indentures of delight:  
Before I break my vow, the gods forbid,  
No not by day, nor yet by darksome night.  Doron. 
Even with this garland made of Holly-hocks,  
I cross thy brows, from every shepherds kiss:  
Heigh ho, how glad am I to touch thy locks,  
My frolic heart even now a free man is.  Carmela. 
I thank you Doron, and will think on you:  
I love you Doron, and will wink on you:  
I seal your chapter parent with my thumbs,  
Come kiss and part, for fear my mother comes.    
Thus ended this merry Eglogue betwixt Doron and Carmela: which (Gentlemen) if it be ●ust with pretty Similes, and far fetched Metaphors, think the poor country Lovers knew no further comparisons the● our within compass of their country Logic. Well, 'twas a good world, when such Simplicity was used, sayas the old Women of our time, when a ring of a rush would tie as much love together as a gimmon of gold: but gentlemen, ●●ce we have talked of love so long, you shall giu● 〈◊〉 leave 〈◊〉 show my opinion of that foolish sanc●●e, th●●.  


Sonetto.  
What thing is love? It is a power divine,  
That reigns us, or else a wreakful law,  
That dooms our minds to beauty to incline.  
It is a star, whose influence doth draw  
Our hearts to loud 〈◊〉 being of his might,  
Till he be master of our hearts and fight.  
Love is a discord, and a strange di●●●  
Betwixt our sense and reason, 〈◊〉 whose power  
As mad with reason we admit that force,  
Which wit or labour 〈◊〉 may devour.  
It is a will that brooketh no consent:  
It would refuse, yet 〈◊〉 may repent.  
love's a desire, which for to wallen 〈◊〉,  
Doth lose an age of years, and so doth pass  
As doth the shadow ●e●ered from his prime,  
Seeming as though it were, ye never 〈◊〉:  
Leaving behind nought but repentant thoughts  
Of days ill spent, for that which profit ●ough●s.  
It's now a peace, and then a sudden war,  
A hope consumed before it is conceived,  
At hand it fears, and menac●●● 〈◊〉,  
And he that games, is most of all deceived.  
It is a secret hidden and not known,  
Which one may better feel then 〈◊〉 upon.    
Thus Gentlemen have you heard my verdict in this So●●● now will I return to 〈◊〉 Carmela, who not seeing her mother come, sell aga●● to a 〈…〉, and thus it was.  
After they had thus 〈…〉 their Eglogues, they plighted faith and truth, and Carmela, very bris●ly 〈◊〉 her mouth with a 〈…〉 it▪ with a kiss, which Doron taketh 〈…〉 a little paying loath to depart, they 〈◊〉 went a 〈◊〉 their 〈…〉 Leaving them therefore 〈◊〉 their 〈◊〉 again to Democles, who seeing no 〈…〉 to persuade; Samela to love, neither the hope of the 〈…〉 crown, no● the title of a 〈◊〉 lastly 〈…〉 threats, but all in vain: for 〈…〉 by nature, 〈◊〉 that he was her father, and 〈◊〉 by love, in that 〈◊〉 Melicertus lay imprisoned only for her 〈…〉 〈…〉 eraving pardon of Maxim●us and Sephestia: and to show that the outward 〈◊〉 of his watery eyes had a 〈◊〉 thy with the 〈…〉 of his heart, he impa●●●d the head of his young Nephew Pleufidippus with the Crown and Diadem of Arcady: for that his brother Lamedon had in all distress not left his daughter Sephestia, he took the matter so kindly, that he reconciled himself unto him; and made him Duke in Arcady. The success of this fore-rehearses 〈…〉 g●●wing so Comical, they all concluded after the 〈…〉 solemnizing of the Coronation (which was made famous with the excellent deeds of many worthy 〈◊〉,) to pass into Thessa●e, to contract the marriage betwixt Pleusidippus, and the daughter of the Thessalian King. Which news spread through Arcady as a wonder, that at last it came to Menaphons' ears: who hearing the high parentage of his supposed Samela, seeing his passions were too aspiring, & that with the Syrian Wolves he barked agains the Moon, he left such Lettuce as were too fine for his lips, and courted his old love Pesana, to whom shortly after he was married. And lest there should her left any thing unperfect in this pastoral accident, Doron 〈◊〉 himself up, and jumped a marriage with his old friend Carmela.  
FINIS.