THE shepherds Calendar Containing twelve Aeglogues proportionable to the twelve months.  
Entitled TO THE NOBLE AND Virtuous Gentleman most worthy of all titles both of learning and chivalry M. Philip Sidney.  
AT LONDON. Printed by Hugh Singleton, dwelling in Creed Lane near unto Ludgate at the sign of the gylden Tun, and are there to be sold. 1579.   

TO HIS BOOK.  

Go little book: thyself present  
As child whose parent is unkent:  
To him that is the precedent  
Of noblesse and of chevalree,  
And if that Envy bark at thee,  
As sure it will, for succour flee  
Under the shadow of his wing,  
And asked, who thee forth did bring,  
A shepherds swain say did thee sing,  
All as his straying flock he fed:  
And when his honour has thee red,  
Crave pardon for my hardyhedde.  
But if that any ask thy name,  
Say thou wert base begot with blame:  
For thy thereof thou takest shame.  
And when thou art past ieopardee,  
Come tell me, what was said of me:  
And I will sand more after thee.   
Jmmeritô.   

¶ To the most excellent and learned both Orator and Poet, Master Gabriel Harvey, his very special and singular good friend E. K. commendeth the good liking of this his labour, and the patronage of the new Poet.  
VNCOUTHE VNKISTE, Said the old famous Poet Chaucer: whom for his excellency and wonderful skill in making, his scholar Lidgate, a worthy scholar of so excellent a master, calleth the Lodestar of our Language: and whom our Colin clout in his Eclogue calleth Tityrus the God of shepherds, comparing him to the worthiness of the Roman Tityrus Virgile. Which proverb mine own good friend Ma. Harvey, as in that good old Poet it served well Pandares' purpose, for the bolstering of his bawdy brocage, so very well taketh place in this our new Poet, who for that he is uncouth (as said Chaucer) is unkist, and unknown to most men, is regarded but of few. But I doubt not, so soon as his name shall come into the knowledge of men, and his worthiness be sounded in the tromp of fame, but that he shall be not only kissed, but also beloved of all, embraced of the most, and wondered at of the best. Not less I think, deserveth his wittiness in devising, his pithiness in uttering, his complaints of love so lovely, his discourses of pleasure so pleasantly, his pastoral rudeness, his moral wisenesse, his dew observing of Decorum every where, in personages, in seasons, in matter, in speech, and generally in all seemly simplicity of handling his matter, and framing his words: the which of many things which in him be strange, I know will seem the strangest, the words themselves being so ancient, the knitting of them so short and intricate, and the whole Period & compass of speech so delightsome for the roundness, and so grave for the strangeness. And first of the words to speak, I grant they be something hard, and of most men unused. yet both English, and also used of most excellent Authors and most famous poets. In whom whenas this our Poet hath been much travailed and thoroughly red, how could it be, (as that worthy Orator said) but that walking in the son although for other cause he walked, yet needs he might be sunburnt; and having the sound of those ancient poets still ringing in his ears, he might needs in singing hit out some of their tunes. But whether he useth them by such casualty and custom, or of set purpose and choice, as thinking them fittest for such rustical rudeness of shepherds, either for that their rough sound would make his rhymes more ragged and rustical, or else because such old and obsolete words are most used of country folk, sure I think, and think I think not amiss, that they bring great grace, and, as one would say, authority to the verse. For albe amongst many other faults it specially be objected of Valla against Livy, and of other against Saluste, that with over much study they affect antiquity, as coveting thereby credence and honour of elder years, yet I am of opinion, and eke the best learned are of the like, that those ancient solemn words are a great ornament both in the one & in the other; the one labouring to set forth in his work an eternal image of antiquity, and the other carefully discoursing matters of gravity and importance. For if my memory fail not, Tully in that book, wherein he endeavoureth to set forth the pattern of a perfect Orator, saith that oft-times an ancient word maketh the style seem grave, and as it were reverend: not otherwise then we honour and reverence grey hears for a certain religious regard, which we have of old age. yet neither every where must old words be stuffed in, nor the comen Dialecte and manner of speaking so corrupted thereby, that as ●● old buildings it seem disorderly & ruinous. But all as in most exquisite pictures they use to blaze and portrait not only the dainty lineaments of beauty, but also round about it to shadow the rude thickets and craggy cliffs, that by the baseness of such parts, more excellency may accrue to the principal; for oftimes we find ourselves, I know not how, singularly delighted with the show of such natural rudeness, and take great pleasure in that disorderly order. Even so do those rough and harsh terms enlumine and make more clearly to appear the brightness of brave & glorious words. So ofentimes a dischorde in Music maketh a comely concordance: so great delight took the worthy Poet Alceus to behold a blemish in the joint of a well shaped body. But if any will rashly blame such his purpose in choice of old and unwonted words, him may I more justly blame and condemn, or of witless headiness in judging, or of heedless hardiness in condemning. for not marking the compass of his bent, he will judge of the length of his cast. for in my opinion it is one special praise, of many which are dew to this Poet, that he hath laboured to restore, as to their rightsull heritage such good and natural English words, as have been long time out of use & almost clear disherited. Which is the only cause, that our Mother tongue, which truly of itself is both full enough for prose & stately enough for verse, hath long time been counred most bore & barren of both. which default when as some endeavoured to salve & recure, they patched up the holes with pieces & rags of other languages, borrowing here of the french, there of the Italian, every where of the Latin, not weighing how il, those tongues accord with themselves, but much worse with ours: 〈…〉 they have made our English tongue, a gallimaufray or hodgepodge of all other speeches. Other some no so well seem in the English tongue as perhaps in other lan guages, if than happen to here an old word albeit very natural and significant, cry out straight way, that we speak no English, but gibberish, or rather such, as in old time Euamders mother spoke. whose fitst shame is, that they are not ashamed, in their own mother tongue strangers to be counted and alienes. The second shame no less than the first, that what so they understand not, they straight way deem to be senseless, and not at all to be understood. Much like to the Mole in Aesopes' fable, that being blind herself, would inno wise be persuaded, that any beast could see. The last more shameful then both, that of their own country and natural speech, which together with their nurses milk they sucked, they have so base regard and bastard judgement, that they will not only themselves not labour to garnish & beautify it, but also repined, that of other it should be embel lished. Like to the dog in the manger, that himself can eat no hay, and yet barketh at the hungry bullock, that so feign would feed: whose currish kind though cannot be kept from barking, yet I con them thank that they refrain from biting.  
Now for the knitting of sentences, which they call the joints and members thereof, and for all the compass of the speech, it is round without roughness, and learned without hardness, such indeed as may be perceived of the least, understood of the most, but judged only of the learned. For what in most English writers useth to be lose, and as it were ungyrt, in this Author is well grounded, finely framed, and strongly trussed up together. In regard whereof, I scorn and spew out the rakehellye rout of our ragged rymers (for so themselves use to hunt the letter) which without learning boast, without judgement jangle, without reason rage and some, as if some instinct of Poetical spirit had newly ravished them 〈…〉 the meanness of comen capacity. And being in the midst of all their bravery, suddenly either for want of matter, or of rhyme, or having forgotten their former conceit, they seem to be so pained and travailed in their remembrance, as it were a woman in childbirth or as that same Pythia, when the trance came upon her.  
Os rabidum fera corda domans etc.  
nevertheless let them a God's name 〈◊〉 on their own folly, so they seek not to darken the beams of others glory. As for Colin, under whose person the Author self is shadowed, how ●●rre he is from such vaunted titles and glorious shows, both himself showeth, where he saith.  
Of Muse's Hobbin. I con no skill. And Enough is me to paint out my unrest, etc.  
And also appeareth by the baseness of the name, wherein, it seemeth, he chose rather to unfold great matter of argument covertly, then professing it, not suffice thereto accordingly. which moved him rather in Aeglogues, than other wise to write, doubting perhaps his ability, which he little needed, or minding to furnish our tongue with this kind, wherein it faulteth, or following the example of the best & most ancient poets, which devised this kind of writing, being both so base for the matter, and homely for the manner at the first to try their abilities? and as young birds, that be newly crept out of the nest, by little first to prove their tender wings, before they make a greater flight. So flew Theocritus, as you may perceive he was all ready full fledged. So flew Virgile, as not yet well feeling his wings So flew Mantuane, as being not full somd. So Petrarque. So Boccace; So Marot, Sanazarus, and also divers other excellent both Italian and French poets, whose foting this Author every where followed; yet so as few, but they be well scented can trace him out. So finally flieth this our new Poet, as a bird, whose principals be scarce grown out, but yet as that in time shall be able to keep wing with the best  
Now as touching the general drift and purpose of his Aeglogues, I mind not to say much, himself labouring to conceal it. Only this appeareth, that his unstaid youth had long wandered in the common Labyrinth of Love, in which time to mitigate and alloy the heat of his passion, or else to warn (as he saith) the young shepherds 〈◊〉 his equals and companions of his unfortunate folly, he compiled these xii. Aeglogues, which for that they be proportioned to the state of the xii. months, he termeth the shepherds CALENDAR, applying an old name to a new work. Hereunto have I added a certain Gloss or scholion for th'exposition of old words & harder phrases: which manner of glozing and commenting, well I wot, will seem strange & rare in our tongue: yet for somuch as I knew many excellent & proper devices both in words and matter would pass in the speedy course of reading, either as unknown, or as not marked, and that in this kind, as in other we might be equal to the learned of other nations, I thought good to take the pains upon me, the rather for that by means of some familiar acquaintance I was made privy to his counsel and secret meaning in them, as also in sundry other works of his. which albert I know he nothing so much hateth, as to promulgate, yet thus much have I adventured upon his friendship, himself being for long time fur estranged, hoping that this will the rather occasion him, to put forth divers other excellent works of his, which sleep in silence, as his Dreamcs, his Legends, his Court of Cupid, and sundry others; whose commendations to set out, were very vain; the things though worthy of many yet being known to few. These my present pains if to any they be pleasurable or profitable, be you judge, mine own good Master Harvey, to whom I have both in respect of your worthiness generally, and otherwise upon some particular & special cousiderations vowed this my labour, and the maidenhead of this our comen friends Poetry, himself having already in the beginning dedicated it to the Noble and worthy Gentleman, the right worshipful Ma. Phi. Sidney, a special favourer & maintainer of all kind of learning.) Whose cause I pray you Sir, if Envy shall stur up any wrongful accusasion, defend with your mighty Rhetoric & other your rare gifts of learning, as you can, & shield with your good will, as you aught, against the malice and outrage of so many enemies, as I know will be set on fire with the sparks of his kindled glory. And thus recommending the Author unto you, as unto his most special good friend, and myself unto you both, as one making singular account of two so very good and so choice friends, I bid you both most heartily farewell, and commit you & your most commendable studies to the tuition of the greatest.  
Your own assuredly to be commanded E. K.   

Post scr.  
NOw I trust M. Harvey, that upon sight of your special friends and fellow Poet's doings, or else for envy of so many unworthy Quidams, which catch at the garland, which to you alone is dew, you will be persuaded to pluck out of the hateful darkness. those so many excellent English poems of yours, which lie hid, and bring them forth to eternal light. Trust me you do both them great wrong, in depriving them of the desired son, and also yourself, in smothering your deserved praises, and all mer generally, in withholding from them so divine pleasures, which they might conceive oh your gallant English verses, as they have already done of your Latin Poems, which it my opinion both for invention and Elocution are very delicate, and superexcellent. An thus again, I take my leave of my good Master Harvey. from my lodging at London this 10. of April. 1579.   

The general argument of the whole book.  
LIttle I hope, needeth me at large to discourse the first Original of Aeglogues, having already touched the same. But for the word Aeglogues I know is unknown to most, and also mistaken of some the best learned (as they think) I will say somewhat thereof, being not at all impertinent to my present purpose.  
They were first of the Greeks the inventors of them called Aeglogaj as it were 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. that is Goteheards' tales. For although in Virgile and others the speakers be most shepherds, and Goteheards, yet Theocritus in whom is more ground of authority, then in Virgile, this specially from that deriving, as from the first head and wellspring the whole Inuerition of his Aeglogues, maketh Goteheards the persons and authors of his tales. This being, who seethe not the grossness of such as by colour of learning would make us believe that they are more rightly termed Eclogai, as they would say, extraordinary discourses of unnecessary matter, which definition albe in substance and meaning it agreed with the nature of the thing, yet nowhit answereth with the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and interpretation of the word. For they be not termed Eclogues, but Aeglogues. which sentence this author very well observing, upon good judgement, though indeed few Goteheards have to do herein, nevertheless doubteth not to call than by the used and best known name. Other curious discourses hereof I reserve to greater occasion. These xii. Aeclogues every where answering to the seasons of the twelve months may be well divided into three forms or ranks. For either they be Plaintive, as the first, the sixth, the eleventh, & the twelfth, or recreative, such as all those be, which conceive matter of love, or commendation of special personages, or Moral: which for the most part be mixed with some Satirical bitterness, namely the second of reverence dew to old age, the fift of coloured deceit, the seventh and ninth of dissolute shepherds & pastors, the tenth of contempt of Poetry & pleasant wits. And to this division may every thing herein be reasonably applied: A few only except, whose special purpose and meaning I am not privy to. And thus much generally of these xii. Aeclogues. Now will we speak particularly of all, and first of the first. which he calleth by the first months name januarie. wherein to some he may seem foully to have faulted, in that he erroneously beginneth with that month, which beginneth not the year. For it is welknown and stoutly maintained with strong reasons of the learned, that the year beginneth in March. for then the son reneweth his finished course, and the seasonable spring refresheth the earth, and the pleasance thereof being buried in the sadness of the dead winter now worn away, relieveth. This opinion maintain the old Astrologers and Philosophers, namely the reverend Andalo, and Macrobius in his holidays of Saturn, which account also was generally observed both of Grecians and ROmans. But saving the leave of such learned heads, we maintain a custom of coumpting the seasons from the month january, upon a more special cause, than the heathen Philosopher ever could conceive, that is, for the incarnation of our mighty Saviour and eternal redeemer the L. Christ, who as then renewing the state of the decayed world, and returning the compass of expired years to their former date and first commencement, 〈◊〉 to us his 〈◊〉 a memorial of his birth in the end of the last year and beginning of the next. which reckoning, beside that eternal monument of our salvation, leaneth also upon good proof of special judgement. For albeit that in eldertimes, when as yet the count of the year was not perfected, as afterward it was by julius Caesar, they began to tell the months from Marches beginning, and according to the same God (as is said in Scripture) commanded the people of the jews to count the month Abil, that which we call March, for the first month, in remembrance that in that month he brought them out of the land of Egypt: yet according to tradition of latter times it hath been otherwise observed, both in government of of the church, and rule of Mightiest Realms. For from julius Caesar who first observed the leap year which he called Bissextilem Annum, and brought in to a more certain course the odd wandering days which of the Greeks were called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. of the Romans intercalares (for in such matter of learning I am forced to use the terms of the learned) the months have been numbered xii. which in the first ordinance of Romulus were but ten, counting but CCCiiij. days in every year, and beginning with March. But Numa Pompilius, who was the father of all the Roman ceremonies and religion, seeing that reckoning to agreed neither with the course of the son, nor of the Moon, thereunto added two months, january and February: wherein it seemeth, that wise king minded upon good reason to begin the year at januarie, of him therefore so called tanquam janua anni the gate and entrance of the year, or of the name of the god janus, to which god for that the old Paynims attributed the birth & beginning of all creatures new coming into the world, it seemeth that he therefore to him assigned the beginning and first enrraunce of the year. which account for the most part hath hitherto continued. Notwithstanding that the Egyptians begin their year at September, for that according to the opinion of the best Rabbins, and very purpose of the scripture self, God made the world in that month, that is called of them Tisri And therefore he commanded them, to keep the feast of Pavilions in the end of the year, in the xv. day of the seventh month, which before that time was the first.  
But our Author respecting neither the subtlety of th'one part, nor the antiquity o tother, thinketh it fittest according to the simplicity of comen understanding, to be gin with januarie, weening it perhaps no decoru, that Sepheard should be seen in matter of so deep insight, or canvas a case of so doubtful judgement. So therefore begin 〈…〉 he & so continueth he throughout.   

Januarye.  
 

Aegloga prima.  
ARGUMENT.  
IN this first Eclogue Colin clout a shepherds boy complaineth him of his unfortunate love, being but newly (as seemeth) enamoured of a country lass called Rosalinde: with which strong affection being very sore traveled, he compareth his careful case to the sad season of the year, to the frosty ground, to the frozen trees, and to his own winterbeaten flock. And lastly, finding himself rob of all former pleasance and delights, he breaketh his Pipe in pieces, and casteth himself to the ground.  COLIN Cloute. 

A Shepherds boy (no better do him call)  
when Winters wasteful spite was almost spent,  
All in a sunshine day, as did befall,  
Led forth his flock, that had been long ypent.  
So faint they wox, and feeble in the fold,  
That now unneaths their feet could them uphold.   

All as the Sheep, such was the shepherds look,  
For pale and wan he was, (alas the while,)  
May seem he loud, or else some care he took:  
Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his style.  
Thomas to a hill his fainting flock he led,  
And thus him playnd, the while his sheep there fed.   

Ye Gods of love, that pity lovers pain,  
(If any gods the pain of lovers pity:)  
Look from above, where you in joys remain,  
And bow your ears unto my doleful ditty.  
And Pan thou shepherds God, that once didst love,  
Pity the pains, that thou thyself didst prove.   

Thou barren ground, whom winter's wrath hath wasted,  
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:  
Whilom thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted  
Thy summer proud with Daffodils dight.  
And now is come thy winters stormy state,  
Thy mantle marred, wherein thou mas-kedst late.   

Such rage as winters, reigneth in my heart,  
My life blood friesing with unkindly cold:  
Such stormy stoures do breed my baleful smart,  
As if my year were waste, and woxen old.  
And yet alas, but now my spring begun,  
And yet alas, it is already done.   

You naked trees, whose shady leaves are lost,  
Wherein the birds were wont to build their bower:  
And now are clothed with moss and hoary frost,  
Instede of bloosmes, wherewith your buds did flower:  
I see your tears, that from your boughs do rain,  
Whose drops in dreary ysicles remain.   

All so my lustful leaf is dry and sere,  
My timely buds with wailing all are wasted:  
The blossom, which my branch of youth did bear,  
With breathed sighs is blown away, & blasted,  
And from mine eyes the drizzling tears descend,  
As on your boughs the ysicles depend.   

Thou feeble flock, whose fleece is rough and rend,  
Whose knees are weak through fast and evil fare:  
Mayst witness well by thy ill government,  
Thy masters mind is overcome with care.  
Thou weak, I wan: thou lean, I quite forlorn:  
With mourning pine I, you with pining mourn.   

A thousand scythes I curse that careful hour.  
Wherein I longed the neighbour town to see:  
And eke ten thousand scythes I bless the stoure,  
Wherein I saw so fair a sight, as she.  
Yet all for nought: such sight hath bred my bane.  
Ah God, that love should breed both joy and pain.   

It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plain,  
albeit my love he seek with daily suit:  
His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdain,  
His kids, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.  
Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gifts been vain:  
Colin them gives to Rosalind again.   

I love thilk lass, (alas why do I love?)  
And am forlorn, (alas why am I lost?)  
She deigns not my good will, but doth reprove,  
And of my rural music holdeth scorn.  
shepherds devise she hateth as the snake,  
And laughs the songs, that Colin Clout doth make.   

Wherefore my pipe, albeit rude Pan thou please,  
Yet for thou pleasest not, where most I would:  
And thou unlucky Muse, that wontst to ease  
My musing mind, yet canst not, when thou should:  
Both pipe and Muse, shall sore the while abye.  
So broke his oaten pipe, and down dydlye.   

By that, the welked Phoebus 'gan avail,  
His weary wain, and now the frosty Night  
Her mantle black through heaven 'gan overhaile.  
Which seen, the pensive boy half in despite  
Arose, and homeward drove his sonned sheep,  
Whose hanging heads did seem his careful case to weep.    

Colin's Emblem.  
Anchôra speme.   

GLOSS.  
COLIN Clout) is a name not greatly used, and yet have I seen a Poesy of M. Skelton's under that title. But indeed the word Colin is French, and used of the French Poet Marot (if he be worthy of the name of a Poet) in a certain Eclogue. Under which name this Poet secretly shadoweth himself, as sometime did Virgil under the name of Tityrus, thinking it much fit, than such Latin names, for the great unlikelyhoode of the language.  
unneath) scarcely.  
couth) cometh of the verb Conne, that is, to know or to have skill. As well interpreteth the same the worthy Sir Tho. Smitth in his book of government: where of I have a perfect copy in writing, lent me by his kinsman, and my very singular good friend, M. Gabriel Harvey: as also of some other his most grave & excellent writings.  
Sith) time. Neighbour town) the next town: expressing the Latin Vicina.  
Stoure) a fit. Sere) withered.  
His clownish gifts) imitateth Virgil's verse,  
Rusticus es Corydon, nec munera curate Alexis.  
Hobbinol) is a feigned country name, whereby, it being so common and usual, seemeth to be hidden the person of some his very special & most familiar friend, whom he entirely and extraordinarily beloved, as peradventure shall be more largely declared hereafter. In this place seemeth to be some savour of disorderly love, which the learned call paederastice: but it is gathered beside his meaning. For who that hath read Plato his dialogue called Alcybiades, Xenophon and Maximus Tyrius of Socrates opinions, may easily perceive, that such love is much to be allowed and liked of, specially so meant, as Socrates used it: who saith, that in deed he loved Alcybiades extremely, yet not Alcybiades person, but his soul, which is Alcybiades own self. And so is paederastice much to be praeferred before gynerastice, that is the love which inflameth men with lust toward woman kind. But yet let no man think, that herein I stand with Lucian or his devilish disciple unico Aretino, in defence of execrable and horrible sins of forbidden and unlawful fleshliness. Whose abominable error is fully confuted of Perionius, and others.  
I love) a pretty Epanorthosis in these two verses, and withal a Paronomasia or playing with the word, where he saith (I love thilk lass (alas etc.  
Rosalinde) is also a feigned name, which being well ordered, will bewray the very name of his love and mistress, whom by that name he coloureth. So as ovid shadoweth his love under the name of Corynna, which of some is supposed to be julia, themperor Augustus his daughter, and wise to Agryppa. So doth Aruntius Stella every where call his Lady Asteris and janthis, albe it is well known that her right name was Violantilla: as witnesseth Statius in his Epithalamium. And so the famous Paragon of Italy, Madonna Celia in her letters enuclopeth herself under the name of Zima: and Petrona vuder the name of Bellochia. And this generally hath been a common custom of counterfeicting the names of secret Personages.  
Auail) bring down.  
Emblem. Ouerhaile) draw over.  
His Emblem or Poesy is here under added in Italian, Anchóra speme: the meaning whereof is, that notwithstande his extreme passion and luckless love, yet leaning on hope, he is some what recomforted.    

February.  
 

Aegloga Secunda.  
ARGUMENT.  
THis Eclogue is rather moral and general, then bend to any secret or particular purpose. It specially conteyveth a discourse of old age, in the person of Thenot an old Shepherd, who for his crookedness and unlustiness, is scorned of Cuddy an unhappy Herdsman's boy. The matter very well accordeth with the season of the month, the year now drooping, & as it were, drawing to his last age. For as in this time of year, so then in our bodies there is a dry & withering cold, which congealeth the crudsed blood, and frieseth the weather-beaten flesh, with storms of Fortune, & hoar frosts of Care. To which purpose the old man telleth a tale of the Oak and the Briar, so lively and so feelingly, as if the thing were set forth in some Picture before our eyes, more plainly could not appear.  

CUDDY.  
THENOT.   

AH for pity, will rank Winter's rage,  
These bitter blasts never gin tasswage?  
The keen cold blows through my beaten hide,  
All as I were through the body gryde.  
My ragged rontes all shiver and shake,  
As do high Towers in an earthquake:  
They wonted in the wind wag their wriggle tails,  
Perk as Peacock: but now it anales.   THENOT. 

Lewdly complainest thou lazy lad,  
Of Winter's wrack, for making thee sad.  
Must not the world wend in his common course  
From good to bad, and from bad to worse,  
From worse unto that is worst of all,  
And then return to his former fall?  
Who will not suffer the stormy time,  
Where will he live till the lusty prime?  
Self have I worn out thrice threttie years,  
Some in much joy, many in many tears:  
Yet never complained of cold nor heat,  
Of summers flame, nor of Winter's threat:  
Ne ever was to Fortune foeman,  
But gently took, that ungently came.  
And ever my flock was my chief care,  
Winter or Summer they might well far.   CUDDY. 

Not marvel Thenot, if thou can bear  
Cheerfully the Winter's wrathful cheer:  
For Age and Winter accord full nigh,  
This chill, that cold, this crooked, that wry.  
And as the lowering Weather looks down,  
So seemest thou like good friday to frown:  
But my flowering youth is foe to frost,  
My ship unwont in storms to be tossed.   THENOT. 

The sovereign of seas he blames in bane,  
That once seabeate, will to sea again.  
So loitering live you little heardgroomes,  
Keeping your beasts in the budded brooms:  
And when the shining sun langheth once,  
You deemen, the Spring is come attonce.  
Thomas gynne you, fond flies, the cold to scorn,  
And crowing in pipes made of green corn,  
You thinken to be Lords of the year.  
But eft, when ye count you freed from fear,  
Comes the breme winter with chamfred brows,  
Full of wrinkles and frosty furrows:  
Drerily shooting his stormy dart,  
Which cruddles the blood, and pricks the heart.  
Then is your careless courage accoied,  
Your careful herds with cold been annoyed.  
Then pay you the price of your surquedry,  
With weeping, and wailing, and misery.   CUDDY. 

Ah foolish old man, I scorn thy skill,  
That wouldst me, my springing youngth to spill.  
I deem, thy brain emperished be  
Through rusty eld, that hath rotten thee:  
Or sicker thy head very tottie is,  
So on thy corbe shoulder it leans amiss.  
Now thyself hast lost both lop and top,  
Als my budding branch thou wouldst crop:  
But were thy years green, as now been mine,  
To other delights they would incline.  
Thomas wouldst thou learn to carol of Love,  
And hery with hymns thy lass' glove.  
Thomas wouldst thou pipe of Phyllis praise:  
But Phyllis is mine for many days:  
I won her with a girdle of gelt,  
Embossed with buegle about the belt.  
Such an one shepherds would make full feign:  
Such an one would make thee young again.   THENOT. 

Thou art a fon, of thy love to boast,  
All that is lent to love, will be lost.   CUDDY. 

Seest, how brag yond Bullock bears,  
So smirk, so smooth, his pricked ears?  
His horns been as broad, as Rainbow bend,  
His dewelap as lieth, as lass of Kent.  
See how he venteth into the wind.  
Weenest of love is not his mind?  
Seemeth thy flock thy counsel can,  
So lustless been they, so weak so wan,  
Clothed with cold, and hoary with frost.  
Thy flocks father his courage hath lost:  
Thy Ewes, that wont to have blown bags,  
Like wail full widows hangen their crags:  
The rather Lambs been starved with cold,  
All for their Master is justlesse and old.   THENOT. 

Cuddy, I wot thou kenst little good,  
So vainly taduaunce thy headless hood.  
For Youngth is a bubble blown up with breath,  
Whose wit is weakness, whose wage is death,  
Whose way is wilderness, whose in Penance,  
And stoopegallaunt Age the host of Greevaunce.  
But shall I tell thee a tale of truth,  
Which I cond of Tityrus in my youth,  
Keeping his sheep on the hills of Kent?   CUDDY. 

To naught more Thenot, my mind is bend,  
Then to hear novels of his devise:  
They been so well thewed, and so wise,  
What ever that good old man bespoke.   THENOT. 

Many meet tales of youth did he make,  
And some of love, and some of chivalry:  
But none fit than this to apply.  
Now listen a while, and harken the end.   

There grew an aged Tree on the green,  
A goodly Oak sometime had it been,  
With arms full strong and largely displayed,  
But of their leaves they were disarayde:  
The body big, and mightily pight,  
thoroughly rooted, and of wondrous height:  
Whilom had been the King of the field,  
And mochel mast to the husband did yield,  
And with his nuts larded many swine.  
But now the grey moss marred his rind,  
His bared boughs were beaten with storms,  
His top was bald, & wasted with worms,  
His honour decayed, his branches sere.   

Hard by his side grew a bragging briar,  
Which proudly thrust into Thelement,  
And seemed to threat the Firmament.  
It was embellished with blossoms fair,  
And thereto ay wonned to repair  
The shepherds daughters, to gather flowers,  
To peinct their garlands with his colowres.  
And in his small bushes used to shroud  
The sweet Nightingale singing so loud:  
Which made this foolish Brere wax so bold,  
That on a time he cast him to scold,  
And snebbe the good Oak, for he was old.   

Why stand'st there (quoth he) thou brutish block?  
Nor for fruit, nor for shadow serves thy stock:  
Seest, how fresh my flowers been spread,  
Died in Lily white, and Cremsin red,  
With leaves engrained in lusty green,  
Colours meet to cloth a maiden Queen.  
Thy waste bigness but cumbers the ground,  
And dirks the beauty of my blossoms round.  
The mouldy moss, which thee accloteth,  
My Cinnamon smell too much annoyeth.  
Wherefore soon I read thee, hence remove,  
Lest thou the price of my displeasure prove.  
So spoke this bold briar with great disdain:  
Little him answered the Dake again,  
But yielded, with shame and grief adawed,  
That of a weed he was overawed.   

It chanced after upon a day,  
The Hus-bandman self to come that way,  
Of custom for to seruewe his ground,  
And his trees of state in compass round.  
Him when the spiteful briar had espied,  
Caul less complained, and loudly cried  
Unto his Lord, stirring up stern strife:  
O my liege Lord, the God of my life,  
Pleaseth you ponder your Suppliants plaint,  
Caused of wrong, and cruel constraint,  
Which I your poor Vassal daily endure:  
And but your goodness the same recure,  
Am like for desperate doole to dye,  
Through felonous force of mine enemy.   

Greatly aghast with this piteous plea,  
Him rested the goodman on the lee,  
And bad the briar in his plaint proceed.  
With painted words though 'gan this proud weed,  
(As most usen Ambitious folk:)  
His colowred crime with craft to cloak.   

Ah my sovereign, Lord of creatures all,  
Thou placer of plants both humble and tall,  
Was not I planted of thine own hand,  
To be the primtose of all thy land,  
With flowering blossemes, to furnish the prime,  
And scarlot berries in Summer time?  
How falls it then, that this faded Dake,  
Whose body is sere, whose branches broke,  
Whose naked Arms stretch unto the fire,  
Unto such tyranny doth aspire:  
Hindering with his shade my lovely light,  
And robbing me of the sweet sons sight;  
So beat his old boughs my tender side,  
That often the blood springeth from wounds wide:  
Untimely my flowers forced to fall,  
That been the honour of your coronal.  
And often he lets his canker worms light  
Upon my branches, to work me more spite:  
And often his hoary locks down doth cast,  
Where with my fresh flowretts been defaced,  
For this, and many more such outrage,  
Craving your goodlihead to assuage  
The rancorous rigour of his might,  
Naught ask I, but only to hold my right:  
Submitting me to your good sufferance,  
And praying to be guarded from grievance.   

To this the Dake cast him to reply  
Well as he couth: but his enemy  
Had kindled such coals of displeasure,  
That the good man noulde stay his leisure,  
But home him hasted with furious heat,  
Eucreasing his wrath with many a threat.  
His harmful Hatchet he hent in hand,  
(Alas, that it so ready should stand)  
And to the field alone he speedeth.  
(Aye little help to harm there needeth)  
Anger nould let him speak to the tree,  
Enaunter his rage might cooled be:  
But to the root bent his sturdy stroke,  
And made many wounds in the waist Dake.  
The Axes edge did often turn again,  
As half unwilling to cut the grain:  
Seemed, the sencetesse iron did fear,  
Or to wrong holy eld did forbear.  
For it had been an ancient tree,  
Sacred with many a mysteree,  
And often crossed with the priests crew,  
And often hallowed with holy water dew.  
But sick fancies weren foolery,  
And broughten this Oak to this misery.  
For naught might they quitten him from decay:  
For fiercely the good man at him did say.  
The block often groaned under the blow,  
And sighed to see his near overthrow.  
In fine the steel had pierced his pitth,  
Thomas down to the earth he fell forthwith:  
His wondrous weight made the ground to quake,  
th'earth shrunk under him, and seemed to shake.  
There lieth the Oak, pitied of none.   

Now stands the briar like a Lord alone,  
Puffed up with pride and vain pleasannce:  
But all this glee had no continuance.  
For eftsoons Winter 'gan to approach,  
The blustering Boreas did encroach,  
And beat upon the solitary Brere:  
For now no succour was seen him near.  
Now 'gan he repent his prude to late:  
For naked left and disconsolate,  
The biting frost nipped his stalk dead,  
The watery wet weighed down his head,  
And heaped snow burdened him so sore,  
That now upright he can stand no more:  
And being down, is trod in the dirt  
Of cattle, and brouzed, and sorely hurt.  
Such was th'end of this Ambitious briar,  
For scorning Eld   CUDDY. 

Now I pray thee shepherd, tell it not forth:  
Here is a long tale, and little worth.  
So long have I listened to thy speech,  
That graffed to the ground is my breach:  
My hartblood is well-nigh frorne I feel,  
And my galage grown fast to my heel:  
But little ease of thy lewd tale I tasted.  
high thee home shepherd, the day is nigh wasted.    


Thenots Emblem.  
Iddio perch è vecchio,  
Fa suoi all suo essempio.   

Cuddies Emblem.  
Niuno vecchio,  
Spaventa Iddio.    

GLOSS.  
Keen) sharp.  
Gride) pierced: an old word much used of Lidgate, but not found (that I know of) in Chaucer.  
Ronts') young bullocks.  
Wrack) ruin or Violence, whence cometh shipwreck: and not wreak, that is vengeance or wrath.  
Foeman) a foe.  
Thenot) the name of a shepherd in Marot his Aeglogues.  
The sovereign of Seas) is Neptune the God of the seas. The saying is borrowed of Mimus Publianus, which used this proverb in a verse.  Improbè Neptunum accusat, qui iterum naufragium facit. 
Heardgromes.) Chaucer's verse almost whole.  
Fond Flies) He compareth careless sluggards or ill husbandmen to flies, that so soon as the sun thineth, or it waxeth any thing warm, begin to fly abroad wben suddenly they be overtaken with cold:  
But eft when) A very excellent and lively description of Winter, so as may be indifferently taken, either for old Age, or for Winter season.  
Breme) i'll, bitter. Chamfred) chapped, or wrinkled.  
Accored) plucked down and daunted. surquedry) pride.  
Eld) old age. Sicker) sure. Tottie) wavering.  
Corbe) crooked. Herie) worship.  
Herie) the name of some maid unknown, whom Cuddy, whose person is secret, loved. The name is usual in Theocritus, Virgile, and Mantuane.  
Belte) a girdle or waste band. A son) a fool. lieth) soft & gentle.  
Venteth) snuffeth in the wound. Thy flocks Father) the Ram. Crags) necks Rather Lambs) that be ewed early in the beginning of the year.  
Youth is) A very moral and pithy Allegory of youth, and the lusts thereof, compared to a weary wayfaring man.  
Tityrus) I suppose he mean Chaucer, whose praise for pleasant tales cannot dye, so long as the memory of his name shall live, & the name of Poetry shall endure.  
Well thewed) that is, Bene moratae, full of moral wiseness.  
There grew) This tale of the Oak and the Brere, he telleth as learned of Chaucer, but it is clean in another kind, and rather like to Aesopes' fables. It is very excellent for pleasant descriptions, being altogether a certain Icon or Hypotyposis of disdainful younkers.  
Embellished) beautified and adorned. To won) to haunt or frequent. Sneb) check.  
Why stand'st) The speech is scornful & very presumptuous. Engrained) died in grain.  
Accloieth) encumbereth. Adawed) daunted & confounded.  
Trees of state) taller trees fit for timber wood. Stern strife) said Chaucer. s fell and sturdy. O my liege) A manner of supplication, wherein is kindly coloured the affection and speech of Ambitious men.  
coronal) Garland. Flourets) young blossoms.  
The Primrose) The chief and worthiest  
Naked arms) metaphorically meant of the bore boughs, spoiled of leaves. This colourably he speaketh, as adjudging him to the fire.  
The blood) spoken of a block, as it were of a living creature, figuratively, and (as they say) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Hoary locks) metaphorically for withered leaves.  
Hent) caught. Nould) for would not. Aye) evermore. Wounds) gashes.  
Enaunter) lest that.  
The priests crew) holy water pot, wherewith the popish priest ufed to sprinkle & hallow the trees from mischance. Such blindness was in those times, which the Poet supposeth, to have been the final decay of this ancient Oak.  
The block often groaned) A lively figure, which giveth sense and feeling to unsensible creatures, as Virgile alfo sayeth: Saxa gemunt gravido etc.  
Boreas') The Northern wind, that bringeth the most stormy weather.  
Glee) cheer and jollity.  
For scorning Eld) And minding (as should seem) to have made rhyme to the former verse, he is cunningly cut of by Cuddye, as disdaining to here any more.  
Galage) a startuppe or clownish shoe.  
Emblem. This emblem is spoken of Thenot, as a moral of his former tale: namely, that God, which is himself most aged, being before all ages, and without beginning, maketh those, whom he loveth like to himself, in heaping years unto their days, and blessing them with long life. For the blessing of age is not given to all, but unto those, whom God will so bless: and albeit that many evil men reach unto such fullness of years, and some also wax old in misery and thraldom, yet therefore is not age ever the less blessing. For even to such evil men such number of years is added, that they may in their last days repent, and come to their first home. So the old man checketh the rashheaded boy, for despising his grey and frosty hears.  
Whom Cuddye doth counterbuff with a biting and bitter proverb, spoken indeed at the first in contempt of old age generally. for it was an old opinion, and yet is continued in some men's conceit, that men of years have no fear of god at all, or not so much as younger folk. For that being rypened with long experience, and having passed many bitter brunts and blasts of vengeance, they dread no storms of Fortune, nor wrath of Gods, not danger of men, as being either by long and ripe wisdom armed against all mischances and adversity, or with much trouble hardened against all troublesome tides: like unto the Ape, of which is said in Aesop's fables, that oftentimes meeting the Lion, he was at first sore aghast & dismayed at the grimnes and austerity of his countenance, but at last being acquainted with his looks, he was so fur from fearing him, that he would familiarly gibe and jest with him: Such long experience breedeth in some men security. Although it please Erasimus a great clerk and good old father, more fatherly and favourably to construe it in his Adages for his own behoof, That by the proverb Nemo Senex metuit iovem, is not meant, that old men have no fear of God at all, but that they be fur from superstition and Idolatrous regard of false Gods, as is jupiter. But his great learning notwithstanding, it is to plain, to be gainsaid, that old men are much more inclined to such fond fooleries, than younger heads.    

March.  
 

Aegloga Tertia.  
ARGUMENT.  
IN this Eclogue two shepherds boys taking occasion of the season, begin to make purpose of love and other pleasance, which to spring time is most agreeable. The special meaning hereof is, to give certain marks and tokens, to know Cupid the Poet's God of love. But more particularly I think, in the person of Thomalin is meant some secret friend, who scorned Love and his knights so long, till at length himself was entangled, and unwares wounded with the dart of some beautiful regard, which is Cupid's arrow.  

Willye  
Thomalin.   

THomalin, why sitten we so,  
As weren overwent with woe,  
Upon so fair a morrow?  
The joyous time now nighest fast,  
That shall alegge this bitter blast,  
And slake the winter's sorrow.   Thomalin. 

Sicker Willye, thou warnest well:  
For Winter's wrath begins to quell,  
And pleasant spring appeareth.  
The grass now gins to be refreshed,  
The Swallow peeps out of her nest,  
And cloudy Welkin cleareth.   Willye. 

Seest not thilk same Hawthorne studde,  
How bragly it begins to bud,  
And utter his tender head?  
Flora now calleth forth each flower,  
And bids make ready Maia's bower,  
That new is uprist from bed.  
Thomas shall we sporten in delight,  
And learn with Lettuce to wax light,  
That scornfully looks askance,  
Thomas will we little Love awake,  
That now sleepeth in Let he lake,  
And pray him leaden our dance.   Thomalin. 

Willye, I ween thou be assott:  
For lusty Love still sleepeth not,  
But is abroad at his game.   Willye. 

How kenst thou, that he is awoke?  
Or hast thyself his slumber broke?  
Or made privy to the same?   Thomalin. 

Not, but happily I him spied,  
Where in a bush he did him hide,  
With wings of purple and blue.  
And were not, that my sheep would stray,  
The privy marks I would bewray,  
Whereby by chance I him knew.   Willye. 

Thomalin, have no care for thy,  
Myself will have a double eye,  
Ylike to my flock and thine:  
For als at home I have a sire,  
A stepdame eke as whott as fire,  
That duly adays counts mine.   Thomalin. 

Nay, but thy seeing will not serve,  
My sheep for that may chance to swerver,  
And fall into some mischief.  
For sithence is but the third morrow,  
That I chanced to fall a sleep with sorrow,  
And waked again with grief:  
The while thilk same unhappy Ewe,  
Whose clouted leg her hurt doth show,  
Fell headlong into a dell,  
And there unjointed both her bones:  
Might her neck been jointed at once,  
She should have need no more spell.  
Thelf was so wanton and so wood,  
(But now I trow can better good)  
She might ne gang on the green,   Willye. 

Let be, as may be, that is past:  
That is to come, let be forecast.  
Now tell us, what thou hast seen.   Thomalin. 

It was upon a holiday,  
When shepherds grooms han leave to play,  
I cast to go a shooting.  
Long wandering up and down the land,  
With bow and bolts in either hand,  
For birds in bushes tooting:  
At length within an Ivy todde  
(There shrouded was the little God)  
I heard a busy bustling.  
I bent my bolt against the bush,  
Listening if any thing did rush,  
But than heard no more rustling.  
Thomas peeping close into the thick,  
Might see the moving of some quick,  
Whose shape appeared not:  
But were it faery, fiend, or snake,  
My courage earned it to awake,  
And manfully thereat shot.  
With that sprung forth a naked swain,  
With spotted wings like Peacock's train,  
And laughing lope to a tree.  
His gylden quiver at his back,  
And silver bow, which was but slack,  
Which lightly he bent at me.  
That seeing I, levelde again,  
And shot at him with might and main,  
As thick, as it had hailed.  
So long I shot, that all was spent:  
Thomas pumie stones I hastily hent,  
And threw: but naught availed:  
He was so wimble, and so wight,  
From bough to bough he lepped light,  
And often the pumies latched.  
Therewith afraid I ran away:  
But he, thou'st erst seemed but to play,  
A shaft in earnest snatched,  
And hit me running in the heel:  
For than I little smart did feel:  
But soon it sore increased.  
And now it rankleth more and more,  
And inwardly it festreth sore,  
Ne wot I, how to cease it.   Willye. 

Thomalin, I pity thy plight.  
Perdie with love thou didst fight:  
I know him by a token.  
For once I heard my father say,  
How he him caught upon a day,  
(Whereof he willbe wroken)  
Entangled in a fowling net,  
Which he for carrion Crows had set,  
That in our Peeretree haunted.  
Thomas said, he was a winged lad,  
But bow and shafts as then none had:  
Else had he sore be daunted.  
But see the Welkin thicks apace,  
And stooping Phoebus steeps his face:  
Yts time to hast us homeward.    


Willyes' Emblem.  
To be wise and eke to love,  
Is granted scarce to God above.   

Thomalins Emblem.  
Of Honey and of Gaul in love there is store:  
The Honey is much, but the Gaul is more.    

GLOSS.  
THIS Eclogue seemeth somewhat to resemble that same of Theocritus, wherein the boy likewise telling the old man, that he had shot at a winged boy in a tree, was by him warned, to beware of mischief to come.  
Over went) overgone  
To quell) to abate.  
Alegge) to lessen or assuage.  
Welkin) the sky.  
The swallow) which bird useth to be counted the messenger, and as it were, the forerunner of springe.  
Flora) the Goddess of flowers, but indeed (as saith Tacitus) a famous harlot, which with the abuse of her body having gotten great riches, made the people of Rome her heir: who in remembrance of so great beneficence, appointed a yearly feast for the memorial of her, calling her, not as she was, nor as some do think, Andronica, but Flora: making her the Goddess of all flowers, and doing yearly to her solemn sacrifice.  
Maia's bower) that is the pleasant field, or rather the May bushes. Maia is a Gods and the mother of Mercury, in honour of whom the month of may is of her name so called, as saith Macrobius.  
Lettuce) the name of some country lass.  
Askance) askewe or asquint. For thy) therefore.  
Lethe) is a lake in hell, which the poets call the lake of forgetfulness. For Lethe signifieth forgetfulness. Wherein the souls being dipped, did forget the cares of their former life. So that by love sleeping in Lethe lake, he meaneth he was almost forgotten and out of knowledge, by reason of winter's hardness, when all pleasures as it were, sleep and wear out of mind.  
Assotte) to dote.  
His slumber) To break loves slumber, is to exercise the delights of Love and wanton pleasures.  
Wings of purple) so is he feigned of the poets.  
For als) he imitateth Virgil's verse.  
Est mihi namque domi pater, est iniusta noverca etc.  
A dell) a hole in the ground.  
Spell) is a kind of verse or charm, that in elder times they used often to say over every thing, that they would have preserved, as the Nightspel for thieves, and the woodspell. And here-hence I think is named the gospel, as it were God's spell or word. And so saith Chaucer, Listeneth Lordings to my spell.  
Ganges) go.  
An Ivy todde) a thick bush.  
Swain) a boy: For so is he described of the poets, to be a boy. s always fresh and lusty: blindfolded, because he maketh no difference of Personages: with divers coloured wings,. s full of flying fancies: with bow and arrow, that is with glance of beauty, which pricketh as a forked arrow. He is said also to have shafts, some leaden, some golden: that is, both pleasure for the gracious and loved, and sorrow for the lover that is disdained or forsaken. But who list more at large to behold Cupid's colours and furniture, let him read either Propertius, or Mofchus his Idyllion of wandering love, being now most excellently translated into Latin by the singular learned man Angelus Politianus: which work I have seen amongst other of this Poet's doings, very well translated also into English Rhymes.  
Wimble and wight) Quick and deliver.  
In the heel) is very Poetically spoken, and not without special judgement. For I remember, that in Homer it is said of Thetis, that she took her young babe Achilles being newly borne, and holding him by the heel, dipped him in the River of Styx. The virtue whereof is, to defend and keep the bodies washed therein from any mortal wound. So Achilles being washed all over, save only his heel, by which his mother held, was in the rest in vulnerable: therefore by Paris was feigned to be shot with a poyfoned arrow in the heel, whiles he was busy about the marrying of Polyxena in the temple of Apollo. which mystical fable Eustathius unfolding, saith: that by wounding in the heel, is meant lustful love. For from the heel (as say the best Physicians) to the privy parts there pass certain veins and slender sinews, as also the like come from the head, and are carried like little pipes behind the ears: so that (as saith Hipocrates) if those veins there be cut a sunder, the party straight becometh cold and unfruitful. which reason our Poet well weighing, maketh this shepherds boy of purpose to be wounded by Love in the heel.  
Latched) caught. Wrought) revenged.  
For once) In this tale is set out the simplicity of shepherds opinion of love.  
Stooping Phoebus) Is a Periphrasis of the sun setting.  
Emblem. Hereby is meant, that all the delights of Love, wherein wanton youth walloweth, be but folly mixed with bitterness, and sorrow sauced with repentance. For besides that the very affection of Love itself tormenteth the mind, and vexeth the body many ways, with unrestfulness all night, and weariness all day, seeking for that we can not have, & finding that we would not have: even the self things which best before us liked, in course of time and change of riper years, which also there withal changeth our wonted liking and former fantasies, will then seem loathsome and breed us annoyance, when yougthes flower is withered, and we find our bodies and wits answer not to such vain jollity and lustful pleasance.    

April.  
 

Aegloga Quarta.  
ARGUMENT.  
THis Eclogue is purposely intended to the honour and praise of our most gracious sovereign, Queen Elizabeth. The speakers herein be Hobbinoll and Thenott, two shepherds: the which Hobbinoll being before mentioned, greatly to have loved Colin, is here set forth more largely, complaining him of that boys great misadventure in Love, whereby his mind was alienate and with drawn not only from him, who most loved him, but also from all former delights and studies, as well in pleasant piping, as cunning rhyming and singing, and other his laudable exercises. Whereby he taketh occasion, for proof of his more excellency and skill in poetry, to record a song, which the said Colin sometime made in honour of her Majesty, whom abruptely be termeth Elysa.  

Thenot.  
Hobbinoll.   

TEll me good Hobbinoll, what garres thee greet?  
What? hath some Wolf thy tender lambs ytorne?  
Or is thy bagpipe broke, that sounds so sweet?  
Or art thou of thy loved lass forlorn?   

Or been thine eyes attempered to the year,  
Quenching the gasping furrows thirst with rain?  
Like April shower, so streams the trickling tears  
adown thy cheek, to quench thy thirsty pain.   Hobbinoll. 

Nor this, nor that, so much doth make me mourn,  
But for the lad, whom long I loved so dear,  
Now loves a lass, that all his love doth scorn:  
He plongd in pain, his tressed lacks doth tear.   

shepherds delights he doth them all forswear,  
His pleasant Pipe, which made us merriment,  
He wilfully hath broke, and doth forbear  
His wont songs, wherein he all outwent.   Thenot. 

What is he for a Lad, you so lament?  
Is love such pinching pain to them, that prove?  
And hath he skill to make so excellent,  
Yet hath so little skill to bridle love?   Hobbinoll. 

Colin thou kenst, the Southern shepherds boy:  
Him Love hath wounded with a deadly dart.  
Whilom on him was all my care and joy,  
Forcing with gifts to win his wanton heart.   

But now from me his madding mind is start,  
And woes the widows daughter of the glenne:  
So now fair Rosalind hath bred his smart,  
So now his friend is changed for a frenne.   Thenot. 

But if his ditties been so trimly dight,  
I pray thee Hobbinoll, record some one:  
The whiles our flocks do graze about in sight,  
And we close shrouded in this shade alone.   Hobbinol. 

Contented I: then will I sing his lay  
Of fair Elisa, Queen of shepherds all:  
Which once he made, as by a spring he lay,  
And tuned it unto the Waters fall.   

YE dainty Nymphs, that in this blessed Brook  
do bathe your breast,  
For sake your watery bowers, and hither look,  
at my request:  
And eke you Virgins, that on Parnasse devil,  
Whence floweth Helicon the learned well,  
Help me to blaze  
Her worthy praise,  
Which in her sex doth all excel.   

Of fair Elisa be your silver song,  
that blessed wight:  
The flower of Virgins, may she flourish long,  
In princely plight.  
For she is Syrinx daughter without spot,  
Which Pan the shepherds God of her begot:  
So sprung her grace  
Of heavenly race,  
No mortal blemish may her blot.   

See, where she sits upon the grassy green,  
(O seemly sight)  
Clad in Scarlot like a maiden Queen,  
And Ermines white.  
Upon her head a Cremosin coronet,  
With Damask roses and Daffodils set:  
bayleaves between,  
And Primroses green  
Embellish the sweet Violet.   

Tell me, have ye seen her angelic face,  
Like Phoebe fair?  
Her heavenly haviour, her princely grace  
can you well compare?  
The Red rose meddled with the White yfere,  
In either cheek depeincten lively cheer.  
Her modest eye,  
Her Majesty,  
Where have you seen the like, but there?   

I saw Phoebus thrust out his golden head,  
upon her to gaze:  
But when he saw, how broad her beams did spread,  
it did him amaze.  
He blushed to see another Sun below,  
Ne durst again his fiery face out show:  
Let him, if he dare,  
His brightness compare  
With hers, to have the overthrow.   

Show thyself Cyntbia with thy silver rays,  
and be not abashed:  
When she the beams of her beauty displays,  
O how art thou dashed?  
But I will not match her with Latona's seed,  
Such folly great sorrow to Niobe did breed.  
Now she is a stone,  
And makes daily moan,  
Warning all other to take heed.   

Pan may be proud, that ever he begot  
such a Bellibone,  
And Syrinx rejoice, that ever was her lot  
to bear such an one.  
Soon as my younglings cryen for the dam,  
To her will I offer a milk-white Lamb:  
She is my goddess plain,  
And I her shepherd's swain,  
albeit for swonck and for swatt I am.   

I see Calliope speed her to the place,  
where my Goddess shines:  
And after her the other Muses trace,  
with their Violins.  
Been they not bay branches, which they do bear,  
All for Elisa in her hand to wear?  
So sweetly they play,  
And sing all the way,  
That it a heaven is to hear.   

Lo how finely the graces can it foot  
to the Instrument:  
They dauncen deffly, and singen soot,  
in their merriment.  
Wants not not a fourth grace, to make the dance even?  
Let that room to my Lady be yeven:  
She shallbe a grace,  
To fill the fourth place,  
And reign with the rest in heaven.   

And whither rennes this bevy of Ladies bright,  
ranged in a row?  
They been all Ladies of the lake behight,  
that unto her go.  
Chloris, that is the chiefest Nymph of all,  
Of Olive branches bears a coronal:  
Olives been for peace,  
When wars do surcease:  
Such for a Princess been principal.   

Ye shepherds daughters, that devil on the green,  
high you there apace:  
Let none come there, but that Virgins been,  
to adorn her grace.  
And when you come, whereas she is in place,  
See, that your rudeness do not you disgrace:  
Bind your fillets fast,  
And gird in your waste,  
For more finesse, with a tawdry lace.   

Bring hither the Pink and purple Cullambine,  
With Gelliflowres:  
Bring Coronations, and Sops in wine,  
worn of Paramoures.  
strow me the ground with Daffadowndillies,  
And Cowslips, and Ringcups, and loved Lilies:  
The pretty Pawnce,  
And the Chevisaunce.  
Shall match with the fair flower Delice,   

Now rise up Elisa, decked as thou art,  
in royal array:  
And now ye dainty Damsels may departed  
echeone her way,  
I fear, I have troubled your troops to long:  
Let dame Eliza thank you for her song.  
And if you come hither,  
When Damsines I gather,  
I will part them all you among.   Thenot 

And was thilk same song of Colin's own making?  
Ah foolish boy, that is with love yblent:  
Great pity is, he be in such taking,  
For nought caren, that been so lewdly bend.   Hobbinol. 

Sicker I hold him, for a greater fon,  
That loves the thing, he cannot purchase.  
But let us homeward: for night draweth on,  
And twincling stars the daylight hence chase.    


Thenots Emblem.  
O quam te memorem virgo?   

Hobbinols Emblem.  
O dea certe.    

GLOSS.  
Gars thee greet] causeth thee weep and complain. Forlorn] left & forsaken. Attempered to the year] agreeable to the season of the year, that is April, which month is most bend to showers and seasonable rain: to quench, that is, to delay the drought, caused through dryness of March winds.  
The Lad] Colin Clout] The Lass] Rosalinda. Tressed locks) wreathed & curled  
Is he for a lad] A strange manner of speaking. s what manner of Lad is he?  
To make] to rhyme and versify. For in this word making, our old English poets were want to comprehend all the skill of poetry, according to the Greeké word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to make, whence cometh the name of poets.  
Colin thou kenst] knowest. Seemeth hereby that Colin pertaineth to some Southern noble man, and perhaps in Surrye or Kent, the rather because he so often nameth the Kentish downs, and before, As lieth as lass of Kent.  
The Widows] He calleth Rosalind the Widows daughter of the glenne, that is, of a country Hamlet or borough, which I think is rather said to colour and conceal the person, then simply spoken. For it is well known, even in spirit of Colin and Hobbinoll, that she is a Gentle woman of no mean house, nor en dewed with any vulgar and common gifts both of nature and manners: but such indeed, as need neither Colin be ashamed to have her made known by his verses, nor Hobbinol be grieved, that so she should be commended to immortality for her rare and singular Virtues: Specially deserving it no less, than either Myrto the most excellent Poet Theocritus his darling, or Lauretta the divine Petrarches' Goddess, or Himera the worthy Poet Stesichorus his Idol: Upon whom he is said so much to have doted, that in regard of her excellency, he scorned & wrote against the beauty of Helena. For which his praesumptuous and unheedie hardiness, he is said by vengeance of the Gods, thereat being offended, to have lost both his eyes.  
Frenne] a stranger. The word I think was first poetically put, and afterward used in comen custom of speech for forenne.  
Dight] adorned. Say] a song. as Roundelays and Virelayes  
In all this song is not to be respected, what the worthiness of her Majesty deserveth, nor what to the highness of a Prince is agreeable, but what is most comely for the meanness of a shepherds wit, or to conceive, or to utter.  
And therefore he calleth her Elysa, as through rudeness tripping in her name: & a shepherds daughter, it being very unfit, that a shepherds boy brought up in the sheepfold, should know, or ever seem to have heard of a Queen's royalty.  
Ye dainty] is, as it were an Exordium ad preparandos animos.  
Virgin's] the nine Muses, daughters of Apollo & Memory, whose abode the Poets feign to be on Parnassus, a hill in Grece, for that in that country specially flourished the honour of all excellent studies.  
Helicon] is both the name of a fountain at the foot of Parnassus, and also of a mountain in Boeotia, out of which floweth the famous Spring Castalius, dedicated also to the Muses: of which spring it is said, that when Pegasus the winged horse of Perseus (whereby is meant fame and flying renown) struck the ground with his hoof, suddenly thereout sprang a well of most clear and pleasant water, which fro thence forth was consecrated to the Muses & Ladies of learning.  
Your silver song] seemeth to imitate the like in Hesiodus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Syrinx] is the name of a Nymph of Arcady, whom when Pan being in love pursued, she flying from him, of the Gods was turned into a reed. So that Pan catching at the Reeds in stead of the damosel, and puffing hard (for he was almost out of wind) with his breath made the Reeds to pipe: which he seeing, took of them, and in remembrance of his lost love, made him a pipe thereof. But here by Pan and Syrinx is not to be thought, that the shepherd simply meant those Poetical Gods: but rather supposing (as seemeth) her grace's progeny to be divine and immortal (so as the Paynims were wont to judge of all Kings and Princes, according to Homeres saying.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.)   
could devise no parents in his judgement so worthy for her, as Pan the shepherds God, and his best beloved Syrinx. So that by Pan is here meant the most famous and victorious King, her highness Father, late of worthy memory K. Henry the eight. And by that name, oft-times (as hereafter appeareth) be noted kings and mighty Potentates: And in some place Christ himself, who is the ve rye Pan and god of shepherds.  
Cremosin coronet] he deviseth her crown to be of the finest and most delicate flowers, instead of pearls and precious stones, wherewith Princes Diadems use to be adorned and embossed.  
Embellish] beautify and set out.  
Phebe] the Moon, whom the Poets feign to be sister unto Phoebus, that is the Sun.  
Meddled] mingled.  
Ysere] together. By the mingling of the Red rose and the White, is meant the uniting of the two principal houses of Lancaster and of York: by whose long discord and deadly debate, this realm many years was sore travailed, & almost clean decayed. Till the famous Henry the seventh, of the linc of Lancaster, taking to wife the most virtuous Princess Elisabeth, daughter to the fourth Edward of the house of York, begat the most royal Henry the eight aforesaid, in whom was the first union of the White Rose and the Red.  
Calliope] one of the nine Muses: to whom they assign the honour of all Poetical Invention, & the first glory of the Heroical verse. other say, that she is the Goddess of Rhetoric: but by Virgile it is manifest, that they mistake the thing. For there in his Epigrams, that art seemeth to be attributed to Polymnia, saying: Signat cuncta manu, loquiturque Polymnia gestu.  
which seemeth specially to be meant of Action and elocution, both special par tes of Rhetoric: beside that her name, which (as some construe it) importeth great remembrance, containeth another part. but I hold rather with them, which call her Polymnia or Polyhymnia of her good singing.  
bay branches] be the sign of honour & victory, & therefore of mighty Conquerors worn in their triumphs, & eke of famous Poets, as saith Petrarch in his Sonnets.  

Arbour vittoriosa triomphale,  
Honour d' Imperadori & di Poëti, etc.   
The Graces] be three sisters, the daughters of jupiter, (whose names are Aglaia, Thalia, Euphrosyne, & Homer only addeth a fourth. s Pasithea) otherwise called Chari tes, that is thanks who the poets feigned to be the Goddesses of all bounty & comeliness, which therefore (as saith Theodontius) they make three, to weet, that men first aught to be gracious & bountiful to other freely, then to receive benefits at other men's hands courteously, and thirdly to requited them thankfully: which are three sundry Actions in liberality. And Boccace saith, that they be painted naked, (as they were indeed on the tomb of C. julius Caesar) the one having her back toward us, and her face fromwarde, as proceeding from us: the other two toward us, noting double thank to be due to us for the benefit, we have done.  
Deaffly] finely and nimbly. Soot] Sweet. Merriment] Mirth.  
bevy] A bevy of Ladies, is spoken figuratively for a company or troop. the term is taken of Larks. For they say a bevy of Larks, even as a Covey of Partridge, or an eye of Pheasaunts.  
Ladies of the lake] be Nymphs. For it was an old opinion amongst the Ancient Heathen, that of every spring and fountain was a goddess the Sovereign. Which opinion stuck in the minds of men not many years sithence, by means of certain fine fablers and loud liars, such as were the Authors of King Arthure the great and such like, who tell many an unlawful leasing of the Ladies of the Lake, that is, the Nymphs. For the word Nymph in Greek signifieth Well water, or otherwise a Spouse or Bcyde.  
Bedight] called or named.  
Cloris] the name of a Nymph, and signifieth greenness, of whom is said, that Zephyrus the Western wind being in love with her, and coveting her to wife, gave her for a dowry, the chiefedome and sovereignty of all flowers and green herbs, growing on earth.  
Olives been] The Olive was want to be the ensign of Peace and quietness, either for that it cannot be planted and pruned, and so carefully looked to, as it aught, but in time of peace: or else for that the Olive tree, they say, will not grow near the Fir tree, which is dedicated to Mars the God of battle, and used most for spears and other instruments of war. Whereupon is finely feigned, that when Neptune and Minerva strove for the naming of the city of Athens, Neptune striking the ground with his 〈◊〉, caused a horse to come forth, that importeth war, but at Minerva's stroke sprung out an Olive, to note that it should be a nurse of learning, and such peaceable studies.  
Bind your] Spoken rudely, and according to shepherds simplicity.  
Bring] all these be names of flowers. Sops in wine a flower in colour much like to a Coronation, but differing in smell and quantity. Flower delice, that which they use to misterm, Flower de luce, being in Latin called Flos delitiarum.  
A Bellibone] or a Bonibell homely spoken for a fair maid or Bonilasse.  
Forswonck and forswat●]. over-laboured and sunneburnt.  
I saw Phoebus] the sun. A sensible Narration, & present view of the thing mentioned, which they call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Cynthia] the Moon so called of Cynthus a hill, where she was honoured.  
Latona's seed] Was Apollo and Dinna. Whom whenas Niobe the wife of Amphion scorned, in respect of the noble fruit of her womb; namely her seven sons, and so many daughters, Latona being therewith displeased, commanded her son Phoebus to slay all the sons, and Diana all the daughters: where at the unfortunate Niobe being sore dismayed, and lamenting out of measure, was feigned of the poets, to be turned into a stone upon the sepulchre of her children. for which cause the shepherd saith, he will not compare her to them, for fear of like my misfortune. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Now rise] is the conclusion. For having so decked her with praises and comparisons, he returneth all the thank of his labour to the excellency of her Majesty.  
When Damsins] A base reward of a clownish giver.  
Yblent] Y, is a poetical addition. blended blinded.  
Emblem. This Poesy is taken out of Virgile, and there of him used in the person of Aeneas to his mother Venus, appearing to him in likeness. of one of Diana's damosels: being there most divinely set forth. To which similitude of divinity Hobbinoll comparing the excellency of Elisa, and being through the worthiness of Colin's song, as it were, overcome with the hugeness of his imagination, bursteth out in great admiration, (O quam te memorem virgo?) being otherwife unable, then by soddein silence, to express the worthiness of his conceit. Whom Thenot answereth with another part of the like verse, as confirming by his grant and approvaunce, that Elisa is nowhit inferior to the Majesty of her, of whom that Poet boldly pronounced, O dea certe.    

may.  
 

Aegloga Quinta  
ARGUMENT  
In this first Eclogue, under the persons of two shepherds, Peers & palinody, be represented two forms of pastors or Ministers, or the protestant and the Catholic: whose chief talk standeth in reasoning, whether the life of the one must be like the other, with whom having showed, that it is dangerous to maintain any fellowship, or give too much credit to their colourable and feigned goodwill, he telleth him a tale of the fox, that by such a counterpoint of craftiness deceived and devoured the credulous kid.  

Palinode.  
Piers,   

IS not thilk the merry month of May,  
When love lads mas ken in fresh array?  
How falls it then, we no merrier been,  
Ylike as others, girt in gaudy green?  
Our bloncket liveries been all to sad,  
For thilk same season, when all is ycladd  
With pleasance: the ground with grass, the Woods  
With green leaves, the bushes with bloosming Buds.  
Yougthes' folk now flocken in every where,  
To gather may buskets and smelling briar:  
And home they hasten the posts to dight,  
And all the Kirke pillours ear day light,  
With Hawthorne buds, and sweet Eglantine,  
And garlands of roses and Sops in wine.  
Such merimake holy Saints doth queme,  
But we here sitten as drowned in a dream.   PIERS. 

For Younkers Palinode such folly's fit,  
But we twain been men of elder wit.   PALINODE. 

Sicker this morrow, ne longer ago,  
I saw a shoal of shepherds outgo,  
With singing, and shouting, and jolly cheer:  
Before them yode a lusty Tabrere,  
That to the many a Horn pipe played,  
Whereto they dauncen each one with his maid.  
To see those folks make such iovysaunce,  
Made my heart after the pipe to dance.  
Thomas to the green Wood they speeden hem all,  
To fetchen home May with their musical:  
And home they bringen in a royal throne,  
Crowned as king: and his Queen atone  
Was Lady Flora, on whom did attend  
A fair flock of Facries, and a fresh bend  
Of lovely Nymphs. (O that I were there,  
To helpen the Ladies their Maybush bear)  
Ah Piers, been not thy teeth on edge, to think,  
How great sport they gaynen with little swinck.   PIERS. 

Perdie so far am I from envy,  
That their fondness inly I pity.  
Those faitors little regarden their charge,  
While they letting their sheep run at large,  
Passen their time, that should be sparely spent,  
In lustihede and wanton merriment.  
Thilk same been shepherds for the devils stead,  
That playen, while their flocks be unfedde.  
Well is it seen, their sheep been not their own,  
That let them run at random alone.  
But they been hired for little pay  
Of other, that caren as little as they,  
What fallen the stock, so they han the fleece,  
And get all the gain, paying but a piece.  
I muse, what accounted both these will make,  
The one for the hire, which he doth take,  
And tother for leaving his Lords task,  
When gread Pan accounted of shepherds shall ask.   PALINODE. 

Sicker now I see thou speakest of spite,  
All for thou lackest somedeal their delight.  
I (as I am) had rather be envied,  
All were it of my foe, then fonly pitied:  
And yet if need were, pitied would be,  
Rather, than other should scorn at me:  
For pitied is mishap, that nas remedy,  
But scorned been deeds of fond foolery.  
What shoulden shepherds other things tend,  
Then sith their God his good does them sand,  
Reapen the fruit thereof, that is pleasure,  
The while they here liven, at ease and leisure?  
For when they been dead, their good is ygoe,  
They sleepen in rest, well as other more.  
Thomas with them wends, what they spent in cost,  
But what they left behind them, is lost.  
Good is no good, but if it be spend:  
God givethgood for none other end.   PIERS. 

Ah palinody, thou art a worlds child:  
Who touches Pitch might needs be defiled.  
But shepherds (as Algrind used to say,)  
Might not live ylike, as men of the lay:  
With them it sits to care for their heir,  
Enaunter their heritage do impair:  
They must provide for means of maintenance,  
And to continued their wont countenance.  
But shepherd must walk another way,  
Sike worldly sovenance he must foresay.  
The son of his loins why should should he regard  
To leave enriched with that he hath spared?  
Should not thilk God, that gave him that good,  
Eke cherish his child, if in his ways he stood?  
For if he mislive in lewdness and lust,  
Little boots all the wealth and the trust,  
That his father left by iuheritaunce:  
All will be soon wasted with misgovernance.  
But through this, and other their miscreaunce,  
They maken many a wrong chevisance,  
Heaping by waves of wealth and woe,  
The floods whereof shall them overflow.  
Sike mens folly I cannot compare  
Better, then to the Apes foolish care,  
That is so enamoured of her young one,  
(And yet God wot, such cause hath she none.)  
That with her hard h●ld, and strait embracing,  
She stoppeth the breath of her youngling.  
So often times, when as good is meant,  
Evil ensueth of wrong intent.   

The time was once, and may again return,  
(For aught may happen, that hath been before)  
When shepherds had none inheritance,  
Ne of land, nor fee in sufferance:  
But what might arise of the bore sheep,  
(Were it more or less) which they did keep.  
Well iwis was it with shepherds though:  
Naught having, naught feared they to forego.  
For Pan himself was their inheritance,  
And little them served for their maintenance.  
The shephears God so well them guided,  
That of naught they were unprovided,  
Butter enough, honey, milk, and whey,  
And their flocks fleeces, them to array.  
But tract of time, and long prosperity:  
That nurse of vice, this of insolency,  
Lulled the shepherds in such security,  
That not content with loyal obeisance,  
Some 'gan to gape for greedy governance,  
And match themself with mighty potentates,  
Lovers of Lordship and troublers of states:  
Thomas 'gan shepherds swains to look a fit,  
And leave to live hard, and learn to lig soft:  
Thomas under colour of shepherds, somewhile  
There crept in Wolves, full of fraud and guile,  
That often devoured their own sheep,  
And often the shepherds, that did 'em keep.  
This was the first source of shepherds sorrow,  
That now nill be quit with bail, nor borrow.   PALINODE. 

Three things to bear, been very burdenous,  
But the fourth to forbear, is outrageous.  
Women that of loves longing once lust,  
Hardly forbearen, but have it they must:  
So when choler is inflamed with rage,  
Wanting revenge, is hard to assuage:  
And who can counsel a thirsty soul,  
With patience to forbear the offered bowl?  
But of all burdens, that a man can bear,  
Most is, a fools talk to bear and to hear.  
I ween the giant has not such a weight,  
That bears on his shoulders the heavens height.  
Thou findest fault, where nis to be found,  
And buildest strong work upon a weak ground:  
Thou railest on right withouten reason,  
And blamest hem much, for small encheason.  
How shoulden shepherds live, if not so?  
What? should they pynen in pain and woe?  
Nay said I thereto, by my dear borrow,  
If I may rest, I nill live in sorrow.   

Sorrow ne need be hastened on:  
For he will come without calling anon.  
While times endurens of tranquillity,  
Vsen we freely our felicity.  
For when approach the stormy stowres,  
We might with our shoulders bear of the sharp showers.  
And sooth to say, naught seemeth sick strife,  
That shepherds so witen each others life,  
And lain her faults the world before,  
The while their foes done each of 'em scorn.  
Let none mislike of that may not be mended:  
So conteck soon by concord might be ended.   PIERS. 

Shepherd, I list none accordance make  
With shepherd, that does the right way forsake.  
And of the twain, if choice were to me,  
Had liefer my foe, than my friend he be.  
For what concord han light and dark same?  
Or what peace has the Lion with the Lamb?  
Such faitors, when their false hearts been hid de.  
Will do, as did the Fox by the Kid.   PALINODE. 

Now Piers, of fellowship, tell us that saying:  
For the Lad can keep both our flocks from straying.   PIERS. 

Thilk same Kid (as I can well devise)  
Was too very foolish and unwise.  
For on a time in Summer season,  
The Gate her dame, that had good reason.  
Yode forth abroad unto the green wood,  
To browse, or play, or what she thought good.  
But for she had a motherly care  
Of her young son; and wit to beware,  
She set her youngling before he: knee,  
That was both fresh and lovely to see,  
And full of favour, as kid might be:  
His Velvet head began to shoot out,  
And his wreathed horns 'gan newly sprout:  
The blossoms of lust to bud did begin,  
And spring forth rankly under his chin.   

My son (quoth she) (and with that 'gan weep:  
For careful thoughts in her heart did creep)  
God bless thee poor Orphan, as he might me,  
And sand thee joy of thy iollitee  
Thy father (that word she spoke with pain:  
For a sigh had nigh rend her heart in twain)  
Thy father, had he lived this day,  
To see the branch of his body display,  
How would he have joyed at this sweet sight?  
But ah false Fortune such joy did him spite,  
And cut of his days with untimely woe,  
Betraying him into the trains of his foe.  
Now I a waylfull widow behight,  
Of my old age have this one delight,  
To see thee succeed in thy father's stead,  
And flourish in flowers of lusty head.  
For even so thy father his head upheld,  
And so his haughty horns did he wield.   

Thomas marking him with melting eyes,  
A thrilling throb from her heart did arise,  
And interrupted all her other speech,  
With some old sorrow, that made a new breach:  
Seemed she saw in the younglings face  
The old line aments of his father's grace.  
At last her solein silence she broke,  
And 'gan his new budded beard to stroke   

Kiddie (quoth she) thou kenst the great care,  
I have of thy health and thy welfare,  
Which many wild beasts liggen in wait,  
For to entrap in thy tender state:  
But most the Fox, master of collusion:  
For he has vowed thy last confusion.  
For thy my Kiddie be ruled by me,  
And never give trust to his trecheree.  
And if he chance come, when I am abroad,  
Sperre the gate fast for fear of fraud:  
Ne for all his worst, nor for his best,  
Open the door at his request.   

So schooled the Gate her wanton son,  
That answered his mother, all should be done.  
Thomas went the pensive Damn out of door,  
And chanced to stumble at the threshold flore:  
Her stumbling step some what her amazed,  
(For such, as signs of ill luck been dispraised)  
Yet forth she yode thereat half aghast:  
And Kiddie the door sperred after her fast.  
It was not long, after she was gone,  
But the false Fox came to the door anon:  
Not as a Fox, for than he had be kend,  
But all as a poor peddler he did wend,  
Bearing a truss of trifles at his back,  
As bells, and babes, and glasses in his pack.  
A Biggen he had got about his brain,  
For in his headpeace he felt a sore pain.  
His hinder heel was wrapped in a clout,  
For with great cold he had got the gout.  
There at the door he cast me down his pack,  
And laid him down, and groaned, Alack, Alack.  
Ah dear Lord, and sweet Saint charity,  
That some good body would once pity me.   

Well heard Kiddie all this sore constraint,  
And lengd to know the cause of his complaint:  
Thomas creeping close behind the Wickets clinck,  
Prevelie he peeped out through a chink:  
Yet not so privily, but the Fox him spied:  
For deceiful meaning is double eyed.   

Ah good young master (than 'gan he cry)  
jesus bless that sweet face, I espy,  
And keep your corpse from the careful stounds,  
That in my carrion carcase abounds.  
The kid pitying his heaviness,  
Asked the cause of his great distress,  
And also who, and whence that he were,  
Thomas he, that had well ycond his lere,  
Thus meddled his talk with many a tear,  
〈◊〉, 〈◊〉, alas, and little lack of dead,  
But ● be relieved by your beastlyhead.  
I am a poor Sheep, albe my colour done:  
For with long traveile I am brent in the son.  
And if that my Grandsire me said, be true,  
Sicker I am very sib to you:  
So be your goodlihead do not disdain  
The base kindred of so simple swain.  
Of mercy and favour than I you pray,  
With your aid to forstall my necre decay.   

Thomas out of his pack a glass he took:  
Wherein while kiddie unwares did look,  
He was so enamoured with the newell,  
That naught he deemed dear for the jewel.  
Thomas opened he the door, and in came  
The false Fox, as he were stark lame.  
His tail he clapped betwixt his legs twain,  
Jest he should be descried by his train.   

Being within, the Kid made him good glee,  
All for the love of the glass he did see.  
After his cheer the peddler can chat,  
And tell many leasings of this, and that:  
And how he could show many a fine knack.  
Thomas showed his ware, and opened his pack,  
All save a bell, which he left behind  
In the bas-ket for the Kid to find.  
Which when the Kid stooped down to catch,  
He popped him in, and his bas-ket did latch,  
Ne stayed he once, the door to make fast,  
But ran away with him in all haste.  
Home when the doubtful Dam had her hide,  
She might see the door stand open wide.  
All aghast, loudly she 'gan to call  
Her Kid: but he nould answer at all.  
Thomas on the flore she saw the merchandise,  
Of which her son had set to dear a prize.  
What help? her Kid she knew well was gone:  
She weeped, and wailed, and made great moan.  
Such end had the Kid, for he nould warned be  
Of craft, coloured with simplicity:  
And such end perdie does all hem remain,  
That of such falsers' friendship been fain.   palinody. 

Truly Piers, thou art beside thy wit,  
Furthest fro the mark, weening it to hit,  
Now I pray thee, let me thy tale borrow  
For our sir John, to say to morrow  
At the church, when it is holiday:  
For well he means, but little can say.  
But and if Foxes been so crafty, as so,  
Much needeth all shepherds hem to know.   PIERS. 

Of their falsehood more could I recount.  
But now the bright Sun gynneth to dismount:  
And for the dewy night now doth nigh,  
I hold it best for us, home to high.    


Palinodes Emblem.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉   

Piers his Emblem.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉    

GLOSS.  
Thilk) this same month. It is applied to the season of the month, when all men delight themselves with pleasance of fields, and gardens, and garments.  
Bloncket liveries) grey coats. Clad) arrayed, Y, redoundeth, as before.  
In every where) a strange, yet proper kind of speaking.  
Buskets') a Diminutive. s little bushes of hawthorn. Kirke) church. Queme) please.  
A shoal) a multitude; taken of fish, whereof some going in great companies, are said to swim in a shoal.  
Yode) went. jovyssance) joy. Swinck) labour. Inly) entirely faitors) vagabonds.  
Great pan) is Christ, the very God of all shepherds, which calleth himself the great and good shepherd. The name is most rightly (me thinks) applied to him, for Pan signifieth all or omnipotent, which is only the Lord jesus. And by that name (as I remember) he is called of Eusebius in his fift book de Preparat. Evang; who thereof telleth a proper story to that purpose. Which story is first recorded of Plutatch, in his book of the ceasing of oracles, & of Lavetere translated, in his book of walking spirits. who saith, that about the same time, that our Lord suffered his most bitter passion for the redemption of man, certain passengers sailing from Italy to Cyprus and passing by certain Isles called Paxae, heard a voice calling aloud Thamus, Thamus, (now Thamus was the name of an Egyptian, which was Pilot of the ship,) who giving ear to the cry, was bidden, when he came to Palodes, to tell, that the great Pan was dead: which he doubting to do, yet for that when he came to Palodes, there suddenly was such a calm of wind, that the ship stood still in the sea unmoved, he was forced to cry aloud, that Pan was dead: wherewithal there was heard such piteous outcries and dreadful shrieking, as hath not been the like. By which Pan, though of some be understood the great Satamas, whose kingdom at that time was by Christ conquered, the gates of hell broken up, and death by death delivered to eternal death, (for at that time, as he saith; all Oracles surceased, and enchanted spirits, that were wont to delude the people, thenceforth held their peace) & also at the demand of the Emperor Tiberius, who that Pan should be, answer was made him by the wisest and best learned, that it was the son of Mercury and Penelope, yet I think it more properly meant of the death of Christ, the only and very Pan, then suffering for his flock.  
I as I am) seemeth to imitate the comen proverb, Mal●● Inuidere mihi omnes quam miserescere.  
Nas) is a syncope, for ne has, or has not: as nould, for would not.  
Thomas with them] doth imitate the Epitaphe of the riotous king Sardanapalus, which caused to be written on his tomb in Greek: which verses be thus translated by Tully.  Haec habui quae edi, quaeque exaturata libido Hausit, at illa manent multaac praeclara relicta. 
which may thus be turned into English.  All that I eat did I joy, and all that I greedily gorged: As for those many goodly matters left I for others. 
Much like the Epitaph of a good old Earl of Devonshire, which though much more wisdom bewrayeth, than Sardanapalus, yet hath a smack of his sensual delights and beastliness. the rhymes be these.  

Ho, Ho, who lies here?  
I the good Earl of Devonshere,  
And Maulde my wife, that was full dear,  
We lived together lv. year.  
That we spent, we had:  
That we gave, we have:  
That we left, we lost.   
Algrim) the name of a shepherd. Men of the Lay) Lay men. Enaunter) lest that.  
Sovenaunce) remembrance. Miscreaunce) despair or misbelief.  
Chevisaunce) sometime of Chaucer used for gain: sometime of other for spoil, or booty, or enterprise, and sometime for chiefdome.  
Pan himself) God. according as is said in Deuteronomie, That in division of the land of Canaan, to the tribe of Levy no portion of heritage should be allotted, for GOD himself was their inheritance  
Some 'gan) meant of the Pope, and his Antichristian prelate's, which usurp a tyrannical dominion in the Church, and with Peter's counterfeit keys, open a wide gate to all wickedness and insolent government. Naught here spoken, as of purpose to deny fatherly rule and godly governance (as some maliciously of late have done to the great unrest and hindrance of the Church) but to display the pride and disorder of such, as in steed of seeding their sheep, indeed feed of their sheep.  
Source) wellspring and original. Borrow) pledge or surety.  
The giant) is the great Atlas, whom the poets feign to be a huge giant, that beareth Heaven on his shoulders: being in deed a marvelous high mountain in Mauritania, that now is Barbary, which to man's seeming pierceth the clouds, and seemeth to touch the heavens. Other think, and they not amiss, that this fable was meant of one Atlas king of the same country. (of whom may be, that that hill had his denomination) brother to Prometheus (who as the Greeks say) did first find out the hidden courses of the stars, by an excellent imagination wherefore the poets feigned, that he sustained the firmament on his shoulders. Many other conjectures needless be told hereof.  
Work) work: Encheason) cause, occasion.  
Dear borrow) that is our saviour, the comen pledge of all men's debts to death.  
Wyten) blame. Naught seemeth) is unseemly. Conteck) strife contention.  
) 〈◊〉, as useth Chaucer. Han) for have. Sam) together.  
This tale is much like to that in Aesop's fables, but the Catastrophe and end is far different. By the Kid may be understood the simple sort of the faithful and true Christians. By his dame Christ, that hath already with careful watchewords (as here doth the goat) warned his little ones, to beware of such doubling deceit. By the Fox, the false and faithless Papists, to whom is no credit to be given, nor fellowship to be used.  
The gate) the Goat: Northernely spoken to turn O into A. Yode) went. aforesaid  
She set) A figure called Fictio. which useth to attribute reasonable actions and speeches to unreasonable creatures.  
The bloosmes of lust) be the young and mossy hears, which then begin to sprout and shoot forth, when lustful heat beginneth to kindle.  
And with) A very Poetical 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Orphan) A youngling or pupil, that needeth a Tutor and governor.  
That word) A pathetical parenthesis, to increase a careful Hyperbaton.  
The branch) of the father's body, is the child.  
For even so) Alluded to the saying of Andromache to Ascanius in Virgile. Sic oculos, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat.  
A thrilling throb) a piercing sigh. Liggen) lie.  
Master of collusion). s coloured guile, because the Fox of all beasts is most wily & crafty.  
Sperre the gate) shut the door.  
For such) The goats stumbling is here noted as an evil sign. The like to be marked in all histories: and that not the least of the Lord Hastingues in king Rycharde the third his days. For beside his dangerous dream (which was a shrewd prophecy of his mishap, that followed) it is said that in the morning riding toward the tower of London, there to sit upon matters of counsel, his horse stumbled twice or thrice by the way: which of some, that riding with him in his company, were privy to his near destiny, was secretly marked, and afterwards noted for memory of his great mishap, that ensued. For being then as merry, as man might be, and lest doubting any mortal danger, he was with in two hours after, of the Tyrant put to a shameful death.  
As bells) by such trifles are noted, the relics and rags of popish superstition, which put no small religion in Bells: and Babies. s Idols: and glasses. s Paxes, and such like trumperies.  
Great cold.) For they boast much of their outward patience, and voluntary sufferance as a work of merit and holy humbleness.  
Sweet S. Charity. The Catholics comen oath, and only speech, to have charity always in their mouth, and sometime in their outward Actions, but never inwardly in faith and godly zeal.  
Clink.) a key hole. Whose diminutive is clicket, used of Chaucer for a Key.  
Stounds) fits: aforesaid. His lere) his lesson. Meddled) mingled.  
Bestlihead.) agreeing to the person of a beast. Sibbe.) of kin.  
Newell) a new thing. To forestall) to prevent. Glee] cheer, afforesayde.  
dear a price.) his life, which be lost for those toys.  
Such end) is an Epiphonèma, or rather the moral of the whole tale, whose purpose is to warn the protestant beware, how he giveth credit to the unfaithful Catholic: whereof we have daily proofs sufficient, but one most famous of all, practised of Late years in France by Charles the ninth.  
Fain) glad or desirous.  
Our sir john) a Popish priest, A saying fit for the grossness of a shepherd, but spoken to taunt unlearned Priests.  
Dismount) descend or set. nigh) draweth near.  
Emblem. Both these Emblems make one whole Hexametre. The first spoken of palinody, as in reproach of them, that be distrustful, is a piece of Theognis verse, intending, that who doth most mistrust is most false. For such experience in falsehood breedeth mistrust in the mind, thinking noless guile to lurk in others, then in himself. But Piers thereto strongly replieth with another piece of the same verse, saying as in his former fable, what faith then is there in the faithless. For if faith be the ground of religion, which faith they daily false, what hold then is there of their religion. And this is all that they say.    

June.  
 

Aegloga sexta.  
ARGUMENT.  
THis Eclogue is wholly vowed to the complaining of Colin's ill soccesse in his love. For being (as is aforesaid) enamoured of a Country lass Rosalind, and having (as seemeth) found place in her heart, he lamenteth to his dear friend Hobbinoll, that he is now forsaken unfaithfully, and in his steed Menalcas, another shepherd received disloyally. And this is the whole Argument of this Eclogue.  

HOBBINOL.  
COLIN Cloute.   

LO Collen, here the place, whose pleasant site  
From other shades hath weaned my wandering mind,  
Tell me, what wants me here, to work delight?  
The simple air, the gentle warbling wind,  
So calm, so cool, as no where else I find:  
The grassy gronnd with dainty Daisies dight,  
The Bramble bush, where Birds of every kind  
To the waters fall their tunes attemper right.   COLLEN. 

O happy Hobbinoll, I bless thy state,  
That Paradise hast found, which Adam lost.  
Here wander may thy flock early or late,  
Withouten dread of Wolves to been ytossed:  
Thy lovely lays hear mayst thou freely boast.  
But I unhappy man, whom cruel fate,  
And angry Gods pursue from cost to cost,  
Can nowhere find, to shouder my luckless pate.   HOBBINOLL. 

Then if by me thou list advised be,  
Forsake the soil, that so doth the bewitch:  
Leave me those hills, where harbour nis to see,  
Nor holybush, nor brere, nor winding witch:  
And to the dales resort, where shepherds rich,  
And fruitful flocks been every where to see.  
Here no night raven lodge more black than pitch,  
Nor elvish ghosts, nor ghastly owls do flee.   

But friendly Fairies, met with many Graces,  
And lightfote Nymphs can chase the lingering night,  
With Heydeguyes, and trimly trodden traces,  
Whilst sisters nine, which devil on Parnasse height,  
Do make them music, for their more delight:  
And Pan himself to kiss their crystal faces,  
Will pipe and dance, when Phoebe shineth bright:  
Such pierlesse pleasures have we in these places.   COLLEN. 

And I, whilst youth, and course of careless years  
Did let me walk withouten links of love,  
In such delights did joy amongst my pecres:  
But riper age such pleasures doth reprove,  
My fancy eke from former follies move  
To stayed steps. for time in passing wears  
(As garments done, which wexen old above)  
And draweth new delights with hoary hears.   

Thomas couth I sing of love, and tune my pipe  
Unto my plaintive pleas in verses made:  
Thomas would I seek for Queen apples unripe,  
To give my Rosalind, and in Sommet shade  
Dight gaudy Garlands, was my comen trade,  
To crown her golden locks, unt years more ripe,  
And loss of her, whose love as life I weighed,  
Those weary wanton toys away did wipe.   HOBBINOLL. 

Colin, to hear thy rhymes and roundelays,  
Which thou were wont on wasteful hills to sing,  
I more delight, than lark in Summer days:  
Whose Echo made the neighbour groves to ring,  
And taught the birds, which in the lower spring  
Did shroud in shady leaves from sonny rays,  
Frame to thy song their cheerful cheriping,  
Or hold their peace, for shame of thy sweet lays.   

I saw Calliope with Muses more,  
Soon as thy oaten pipe began to sound,  
Their ivory Luyts and Tamburins forego:  
And from the fountain, where they sat around,  
Renne after hastily thy silver sound.  
But when they came, where thou thy skill didst show,  
They drew aback, as half with shame confounded,  
Shepherd to see, them in their art outgo.   COLLEN. 

Of Muses Hobbinol, I con no skill:  
For they been daughters of the highest jove.  
And holden scorn of homely shepherds quill.  
For sith I heard, that Pan with Phoebus strove,  
Which him to much rebuke and Danger drove:  
I never list presume to Parnasse hill,  
But piping low in shade of lowly grove,  
I play to please myself, all be it ill.   

Naught weigh I, who my song doth praise or blame,  
Ne strive to win renown, or pass the rest:  
With shepherd sits not, follow flying fame:  
But feed his flock in fields, where falls 'em best.  
I wot my rhymes been rough, and rudely dressed:  
The fytter they, my careful case to frame:  
Enough is me to paint out my unrest,  
And poor my piteous plaints out in the same.   

The God of shepherds Tityrus is dead,  
Who taught me homely, as I can, to make.  
He, whilst he lived, was the sovereign head  
Of shepherds all, that been with love tale:  
Well couth he wail his Woes, and lightly slake  
The flames, which love within his heart had bred,  
And tell us merry tales, to keep us wake,  
The while our sheep about us safely fed.   

Now dead he is, and lieth wrapped in lead,  
(O why should death on him such outrage show?)  
And all his passing skill with him is fled,  
The fame whereof doth daily greater grow.  
But if on me some little drops would flow,  
Of that the spring was in his learned head,  
I soon would learn these woods, to wail my woe,  
And teach the trees, their trickling tears to shed.   

Then should my plaints, caused of discurtesee,  
As messengers of all my painful plight,  
Fly to my love, where ever that she be,  
And pierce her heart with point of worthy wight:  
As she deserves, that wrought so deadly spite.  
And thou Menalcas, that by trecheree  
Didst underfong my lass, to wax so light,  
Shouldst well be known for such thy villance.   

But since I am not, as I wish I were,  
Ye gentle shepherds, which your flocks do feed,  
Whether on hylls, or dales, or other where,  
Bear witness all of this so wicked deed:  
And tell the lass, whose flower is wox a weed,  
And faultless faith, is turned to faithless fere,  
That she the truest shepherds heart made bleed,  
That lives on earth, and loved her most dear.   HOBBINOL. 

O careful Colin, I lament thy case,  
Thy tears would make the hardest flint to flow.  
Ah faithless Rosalind, and void of grace,  
That art the root of all this ruthful woe.  
But now is time, I guess, home ward to go:  
Then rise ye blessed flocks, and home apace,  
Lest night with stealing steps do you forsloe,  
And wet your tender Lambs, that by you trace.    


Colin's Emblem.  
Gia speme spenta.    

GLOSS.  
site) situation and place.  
Paradise) A Paradise in Greek signifieth a Garden of pleasure, or place of delights. So he compareth the soil, wherein Hobbinoll made his abode, to that earthly Paradise, in scripture called Eden; wherein Adam in his first creation was placed. Which of the most learned is thought to be in Mesopotamia, the most ferule and pleasant country in the world (as may appear by Diodorus Syculus description of it, in the history of Alexander's conquest thereof.) Lying between the two famous Rivers (which are said in scripture to flow out of Paradise) Tigris and Euphrates, whereof it is so denominate.  
Forsake the soil) This is no poetical fiction, but unseynedly spoken of the Poet self, who for special occasion of private affairs (as I have been partly of himself informed) and for his more preferment removing out of the Northparts came into the South, as Hobbinoll indeed advised him privately.  
Those hills) that is the North country, where he dwelled. Nis) is not.  
The Dales) The Southpartes, where he now abideth, which though they be full of hills and woods (for Kent is very hyllye and woodye; and therefore so called: for Kantsh in the Saxons tongue signifieth woody) yet in respect of the Northpartes they be called dales. For indeed the North is counted the higher country.  
Night Ravens &c.) by such hateful birds, he meaneth all misfortunes (Whereof they be tokens) flying every where.  
Friendly fairies) the opinion of Fairies and elves is very old, and yet sticketh very religiously in the minds of some. But to root that rank opinion of Elves out of men's hearts, the truth is, that there be no such things, nor yet the shadows of the things, but only by a sort of bald Friars and knavish shavelings so feigned; which as in all other things, so in that, sought to nousell the comen people in ignorounce, lest being once acquainted with the truth of things, they would in time smell out the untruth of their packed pelf and Massepenie religion. But the sooth is, that when all Italy was distraicte into the Factions of the Guelphs and the Gibelins, being two famous houses in Florence, the name began through their great mischiefs and many outrages, to be so odious or rather dreadful in the people's ears, that if their children at any time were froward and wanton, they would say to them that the Guelfe or the Gibeline came. Which words now from them (as many thing else) be come into our usage, and for Guelfes and Gibelines, we say Elves & Goblins. Not otherwise then the Frenchmen used to say of that valiant captain, the very scourge of France, the Lord Thalbot, afterward Earl of Shrewsbury; whose noblesse bred such a terror in the hearts of the French, that often times even great armies were defaicted & put to flight at the only hearing of his name. In somuch that the French women, to affray their children, would tell them that the Talbot cometh.  
Many Graces) though there be indeed but three Graces or Charites (as afore is said) or at the utmost but four, yet in respect of many gifts of bounty, there may be said more. And so Musaeus saith, that in Heroes either eye there sat a hundred graces. And by that authority, this same Poet in his Pageants saith. An hundred Graces on her eyeledde sat, etc.  
Haydeguies') A country dance or round. The conceit is, that the Graces and Nymphs do dance unto the Muses, and Pan his music all night by Moonlight. To signify the pleasantness of the soil.  
Peers] Equals and fellow shepherds. Queneapples unripe) imitating Virgil's verse.  Ipse ego cana legam tenera lanugine mala. 
Neighbour groves) a strange phrase in English, but word for word expressing the Latin vicina nemora.  
Spring) not of water, but of young trees springing. Calliope) afforesayde. This staff is is full of very poetical invention. Tamburines) an old kind of instrument, which of some is supposed to be the Clarion.  
Pan with Phoebus) the tale is well known, how that Pan and Apollo striving for excellency in music, chose Midas for their judge. Who being corrupted with partial affection, gave the victory to Pan undeserved: for which Phoebus set a pair of Ass' ears upon his head etc.  
Tityrus) That by Tityrus is meant Chaucer, hath been already sufficiently said, & by this more plain appeareth, that he saith, he told merry tales. Such as be his Canterbury tales. whom he calleth the God of poets for his excellency, so as Tully calleth Lentulus, Deum vitae suae. s the God of his life.  
To make) to versify. O why] A pretty Epanorthosis or correction.  
Discourtesy) he meaneth the falseness of his lover Rosalinde, who forsaking him, had chosen another.  
Point of worthy wit] the prick of deserved blame.  
Menalcas] the name of a shepherd in Virgile; but here is meant a person unknown and secret, against whom he often bitterly inveigheth.  
undersonge] undermined and deceive by false suggestion.  
Emblem. You remember, that in the first Eclogue, Colin's Poesy was Anchora speme: for that as then there was hope of favour to be found in tyme. But now being clean forlorn and rejected of her, as whose hope, that was, is clean extinguished and turned into despair, he renounceth all comfort and hope of goodness to come. which is all the meaning of this Emblem.    

July.  
 

Aegloga septima.  
ARGUMENT.  
THis Eclogue is made in the honour and commendation of good shepebeardes, and to the shame and dispraise of proud and ambitious Pastors. Such as Morrell is here imagined to be.  

Thomalin.  
Morrell.   

IS not thilk same a goteheard proud, that sits on yonder bank,  
Whose straying heard themself doth shroud among the bushes rank?   Morrell. 

What ho, thou jolly shepherds swain, come up the hill to me:  
Better is, than the lowly plain, als for thy flock, and thee.   Thomalin. 

Ah God shield, man, that I should climb, and learn to look aloft,  
This reed is rife, that oftentime Great clymbers fall unsoft.  
In humble dales is footing fast, the trod is not so trickle:  
And though one fall through heedless haste, yet is his miss not much.  
And now the Son hath reared up his fyriefooted teme,  
Making his way between the Cup, and golden Diadem:  
The rampant Lion hunts he fast, with Dog of noisome breath,  
Whose baleful barking brings in haste pine, plagues, and dreary death.  
Against his cruel scorching heat where hast thou coverture?  
The wasteful hills unto his threat is a plain overture.  
But if thee lust, to holden chat with silly shepherd's swain,  
Come down, and learn the little what, that Thomalin can say.   Morrell. 

Syker, thou but a lazy lord, and rekes much of thy swinck,  
That with fond terms, and weetlesse words to blear mine eyes dost think.  
In evil hour thou hentest in hand thus holy hills to blame,  
For sacred unto saints they stand, and of them han their name.  
S. Michel's mount who does not know, that wards the Western cost?  
And of S. Brigets' bower. I trow, all Kent can rightly boast:  
And they that con of Muse's skill, sayne most what, that they devil  
(As goteheards wont) upon a hill, beside a learned well.  
And wonned not the great God Pan, upon mount Olivet:  
Feeding the blessed flock of Dan, which did himself beget?   Thomalin. 

O blessed sheep, O shepherd great, that bought his flock so dear,  
And them did save with bloody sweat from Wolves, that would them tear.   Morrel. 

Beside, as holy father's sayne, there is a hyllye place,  
Where Titan riseth from the main, to run his daily race.  
Upon whose top the stars been stayed, and all the sky doth lean,  
There is the cave, where Phebe laid, the shepherd long to dream.  
Whilom there used shepherds all to feed their flocks at will,  
Till by his folly one did fall, that all the rest did spill.  
And sithence shepherds been foresaid from places of delight:  
For thy I ween thou be afraid, to clune this hills height.  
Of Synah can I tell thee more, And of our ladies bower:  
But little needs to strew my store, suffice this hill of our.  
Here han the holy Fauns resourse, and Sylvans haunten rathe.  
Here has the salt Medway his source, wherein the Nymphs do bathe.  
The salt Medway, that trickling stremis adown the dales of Kent:  
Till with his elder brother Themis His brackish waves be meynt.  
Here grows Melampode every where, and Teribinth good for Goats:  
The one, my madding kids to smear, the next, to heal their throats.  
Hereto, the hills been nigher heaven, and thence the passage ethe.  
As well can prove the piercing leaven, that seldom falls beneatheth.   Thomalin. 

Syker thou speaks like a lewd lorrell, of Heaven to demen so:  
How be I am but rude and borrell, yet nearer ways I know.  
To church the narre, from God more far, has been an old said saw.  
And he that strives to touch the stars, often stombles at a straw,  
Alsoone may shepherd climb to sky, that leads in lowly dales,  
As Goteherd proud that sitting high, upon the Moimtaine sails.  
My silly sheep like well below, they need not Melampode:  
For they been hale enough, I trow, and liken their abode,  
But if they with thy Goats should go, they soon might be corrupted:  
Or like not of the frowie fede, or with the weeds be glutted.  
The hills, where dwelled holy saints, I reverence and adore:  
Not for themself, but for the saints, Which han be dead of yore.  
And now they been to heaven forewent, their good is with them go:  
Their sample only to us lent, That als we might do so.  
Shepherds they weren of the best, and lived in lowly leas:  
And sith their souls been now at rest, why done we them disease?  
Such one he was, (as I have heard old Algrind often say)  
That whilom was the first shepherd, and lived with little gain:  
As meek he was, as meek might be, simple, as simple sheep,  
Humble, and like in each degree the flock, which he did keep.  
Often he used of his keep a sacrifice to bring,  
Now with a Kid, now with a sheep the Altars hallowing.  
So lowted he unto his Lord, such favour couth he find,  
That sithence never was abhorred, the simple shepherds kind.  
And such I ween the brethren were, that came from Canaan:  
The brethren twelve, that kept yfere the flocks of mighty Pan.  
But nothing such thilk shepherd was, whom Ida hill did bear,  
That left his flock, to fetch a lass, whose love he bought to dear:  
For he was proud, that ill was paid, (no such might shepherds be)  
And with lewd lust was overlaid: twain things done ill agreed:  
But shepherd might be meek and mild, well eyed, as Argus was,  
With fleshly follies undcfyled, and stout as steed of brass.  
Sike one (said Algrin) Moses was, that saw his maker's face,  
His face more clear, then Crystal glass, and spoke to him in place.  
This had a brother, (his name I knew) the first of all his cote,  
A shepherd true, yet not so true, as he that erst I hot.  
Whilom all these were low, and lief, and loved their flocks to feed,  
They never striven to be chief, and simple was their weed.  
But now (thanked be God therefore) the world is well amend,  
Their weeds been not so nighly wore, such simplesse might them shend:  
They been clad in purple and pall, so hath their god them blessed,  
They reign and rulen over all, and lord it, as they list:  
Ygyrt with belts of glitterand gold. (might they good shepherds been)  
Their Pan their sheep to them has sold, I say as some have seen.  
For Palinode (if thou him ken) yode late on Pilgrimage  
To Rome, (if such be Rome) and then he saw thilk misusage.  
For shepherds (said he) there done lead, as Lords done other where,  
Their sheep han crusts, and they the bread: the chips, and they the cheer:  
They han the fleece, and eke the flesh, (O silly sheep the while)  
The corn is theirs, let other thrash, their hands they may not file.  
They han great stores, and thrifty stocks, great friends and feeble foes:  
What need 'em caren for their flocks? their boys can look to those.  
These wizard's weltre in wealths waves, pampered in pleasures deep,  
They han fat kerns, and leany knaves, their fasting flocks to keep.  
Sike mister men been all misgone, they heapen hills of wrath:  
Sike syrlye shepherds han we none, they keepen all the path.   Morrell. 

Here is a great deal of good matter, lost for lack of telling,  
Now sicker I see, thou dost but clatter: harm may come of melling.  
Thou meddlest more, then shall have thank, to wyten shepherds wealth:  
When folk been fat, and riches rank, it is a sign of health.  
But say me, what is Algrin he, that is so often bynempt.   Thomalin. 

He is a shepherd great in gree. but hath been long ypent.  
One day he sat upon a hill, (as now thou wouldst me:  
But I am taught by Algrins' ill, to love the low degree.)  
For sitting so with bared scalp, An Eagle sored high,  
That weening his white head was chalk, a shell fish down let fly:  
She weaned the shell fish to have broke, but therewith bruzd his brain,  
So now astonished with the stroke, he lies in lingering pain.   Morrell. 

Ah good Algrin, his hap was ill, but shall be better in time.  
Now farewell shepherd, sith this hill thou hast such doubt to climb.    


Palinodes Emblem.  
In medio virtus.   

Morrells Emblem.  
In summo foelicitas.    

GLOSS.  
A Goteheard] By Goats in scripture be represented the wicked and reprobate, whose pastor also must needs be such.  
Bank) is the seat of honour. Straying heard] which wander out of the way of truth.  
Als] for also. Climb] spoken of Ambition. Great clymbers] according to Seneneca his verse, Decidunt celsa graviore lapsus. Mickle] much.  
The son] A reason, why he refuseth to devil on Mountains, because there is no shelter against the scorching sun. according to the time of the year, which is the whotest month of all.  
The Cup and Diadem] Be two signs in the Firmament, through which the son maketh his course in the month of july.  
Lion] This is Poetically spoken, as if the Sun did hunt a Lion with one Dog. The meaning whereof is, that in july the son is in Leo At which time the Dog star, which is called Syrius or Canicula reigneth, with immoderate heat causing Pestilence, drought, and many diseases.  
Overture] an open place. The word is borrowed of the French, & used in good writers  
To holden chat) to talk and prate.  
A loorde] was want among the old Britons to signify a Lord. And therefore the Danes, that long time usurped their Tyranny here in Brytanie, were called for more dread and dignity, Lurdanes. s Lord Danes. At which time it is said, that the insolency and pride of that nation was so outrageous in this Realm, that if it fortuned a Briton to be going over a bridge, and saw the Dane set foot upon the same, he must return back, till the Dane were clean over, or else abide the price of his displeasure, which was no less, then present death. But being afterward expelled that name of Lurdane became so odious unto the people, whom they had long oppressed, that even at this day they use for more reproach, to call the quartan ague the Fever Lurdane.  
Recks much of thy swinck) counts much of thy pains. Weetelesse] not understood.  
S. Michel's mount) is a promontory in the West part of England.  
A hill) Parnassus aforesaid. Pan Christ. Dan) One tribe is put for the whole nation per Synecdochen  
Where Titan) the Son. Which story is to be red in Diodorus Syc. of the hill Ida; from whence he saith, all night time is to be seen a mighty fire, as if the sky burned, which toward morning beginneth to gather into a round form, and thereof riseth the son, whom the poets call Titan:  
The Shepherd] is Endymion, whom the Poets feign, to have been so beloved of Phoebe. s the Moon, that he was by her kept a sleep in a cave by the space of xxx. years, for to enjoy his company.  
There) that is in Paradise, where through error of shepherds understanding, he saith, that all shepherds did use to feed their flocks, till one, (that is Adam by his folly and disobedience, made all the rest of his offspring be debarred & shutoe out from thence.  
Synah) a hill in Arabia, where God appeared.  
Our ladies bower) a place of pleasure so called.  
Fauns or Sylvans] be of poets feigned to be Gods of the Wood.  
Medway] the name of a river in Kent, which running by Rochester, meeteth with Thames; whom he calleth his elder brother, borh because he is greater, and also falleth sooner into the Sea.  
Meynt] mingled. Melampode and Terebinth] be herbs good to cure diseased Goats. of th'one speaketh Mantuane, and of tother Theocritus.  
Nigher heaven] Note the shepherds simpleness, which supposeth that from the hylls is nearer way to heaven.  
Levin] Lightning; which he taketh for an argument, to prove the nighness to heaven, because the lightning doth commonly light on high mountains, according to the saying of the Poet. Feriuntque summos fulmina montes.  
Lorrell] A lozel. A borrell.] a plain fellow. Narre] nearer.  
Hale] for hole. Go] go. Frowye] musty or mossy.  
Of yore] long ago. Forewente] gone afore.  
The first shepherd] was Abel the righteous, who (as scripture saith) bend his mind to keeping of sheep, as did his brother Cain to tilling the ground.  
His keep] his charges his flock. Lowted] did honour and reverence.  
The brethren] the twelve sons of jacob, which were shepemaisters, and lived one lie thereupon.  
Whom Ida] Paris, which being the son of Priamus king of Troy, for his mother Hecubas dream, which being with child of him, dreamt she brought forth a firebrand, that set all the tower of Ilium on fire, was cast forth on the hill Ida; where being fostered of shepherds, he eke in time be came a shepherd, and lastly came to knowledge of his parentage.  
A lass] Helena the wife of Menelaus king of Lacedemonia, was by Venus for the golden Apple to her given, then promised to Paris, who thereupon with a sort of lusty Troyanes', stole her out of Lacedemonia, and kept her in Troy. which was the cause of the ten years war in Troy, and the most famous city of all Asia most lamentably sacked and defaced.  
Argus'] was of the Poets devised to be full of eyes, and therefore to him was committed the keeping of the transformed Cow Io: So called because that in the print of a cows foot, there is figured an I in the midst of an O.  
His name) he meaneth Aaron: whose name for more Decorum, the shepherd saith he hath forgot, jest his remembrance and skill in antiquities of holy writ should seem to exceed the meanness of the Person.  
Not so true) for Aaron in the absence of Moses started aside, and committed Idolatry.  
In purple] Spoken of the Popes and Cardinals, which use such tyrannical colours and pompous painting. Belts) Girdles.  
Glitterand) Glittering. a Participle used sometime in Chaucer, but altogether in I. Goore Their Pan) that is the Pope, whom they count their God and greatest shepherd.  
Palinode) A shepherd, of whose report he seemeth to speak all this.  
Wizard's) great learned heads. Welter) wallow. Kerne) a Churl or Farmer.  
Sike mister men) such kind of men. Surly) stately and proud Melling) meddling.  
Bet) better. Bynempte) named. Greenshield) for degree.  
Algrin the name of a shepherd afforesayde, whose mishap he alludeth to the chance, that happened to the Poet Aeschylus, that was brained with a shellfishe.  
Emblem. By this poesy Thomalin confirmeth that, which in his former speech by sundry reasons he had proved. for being both himself sequestered from all ambition and also abhorring it in others of his cote, he taketh occasion to praise the mean and lowly state, as that wherein is safety without fear, and quiet without danger, according to the saying of old Philosophers, that virtue dwelleth in the midst, being environed with two contrary vices: whereto Morrell replieth with continuance of the same Philosopher's opinion, that albeit all bounty dwelleth in mediocrity, yet perfect felicity dwelleth in supremacy. for they say, and most true it is, that happiness is placed in the highest degree, so as if any thing be higher or better, than that straight way ceaseth to be perfect happiness. Much like to that, which once I heard alleged in defence of humility out of a great doctor, Suorum Christus humillimus: which saying a gentle man in the company taking at the rebownd, beat back again with like saying of another doctor, as he said. Suorum deus allissimus.    

August.  
 

Aegloga octava.  
ARGUMENT.  
IN this Eclogue is setforth a delectable controversy, made in imitation of that in Theocritus: whereto also Virgile fashioned his third & seventh Eclogue. They choose for umpire of their strife, Cuddy a neatheards' boy, who having ended their cause, reciteth also himself a proper song, whereof Colin he saith was Author.  

Willye.  
Perigot.  
Cuddy.   

TEll me Perigot, what shallbe the game,  
Wherefore with mine thou dare thy music match?  
Or been thy Bagpypes run far out of frame?  
Or hath the Cramp thy joints benoind with ache?   Perigot. 

Ah Willye, when the heart is ill assayed,  
How can Bagpipe, or joints be well apaid?   Willye. 

What the foul evil hath thee so bestead?  
Whilom thou was peregall to the best,  
And wont to make the jolly shepherds glad  
With piping and dancing, didst pass the rest.   Perigot. 

Ah Willye now I have learned a new dance:  
My old music marred by a new mischance.   Willye. 

Mischief might to that new mischance befall,  
That so hath raft us of our merriment.  
But reed me, what pain doth thee so appall?  
Or lovest thou, or been thy younglings 〈◊〉?   Perigot. 

Love hath misled both my younglings, and me:  
I pine for pain, and they my pain to see,   Willye. 

Perdie and wellawaye: isl may they thrive:  
Never knew I lovers sheep in good plight.  
But and if in rhymes with me thou dare strive,  
Such fond fantsies shall soon be put to flight.   Perigot. 

That shall I do, though mochel worse I fared:  
Never shall be said that Perigot was dared.   Willye. 

Then lo Perigot the Pledge, which I plight:  
A mazer ywrought of the Maple war:  
Wherein is enchased many a fair sight  
Of Beres and Tigers, that maken sters' war:  
And over them spread a goodly wild vine,  
Entrailed with a wanton Ivy twine.   

Thereby is a Lamb in the Wolves jaws:  
But see, how fast runneth the shepherd swain,  
To save the innocent from the be astes paws:  
And here with his shepehooke hath him slain.  
Tell me, such a cup hast thou ever seen?  
Well might it beseem any harvest Queen.   Perigot. 

Thereto will I pawn yonder spotted Lamb,  
Of all my flock there nis sick another:  
For I brought him up without the Damn.  
But Colin Clout rafte me of his brother,  
That he purchased of me in the plain field:  
Sore against my will was I forced to yield.   Willye. 

Sicker make like account of his brother.  
But who shall judge the wager won or lost?   Perigot. 

That shall yonder heardgrome, and none other,  
Which over the pousse hitherward doth post.   Willye. 

But for the Sunnebeame so sore doth us beat,  
Were not better, to shun the scorching heat?   Perigot. 

Well agreed Willy: then sit thee down swain:  
Sike a song never heardest thou, but Colin sing.   Cuddy. 

Gynne, when ye list, ye jolly shepherds twain:  
Sike a judge, as Cuddy, were for a king.   Perigot. 

IT fell upon a holly eve,   Willye. 

hay ho hollidaye,   Per. 

When holly father's wont to shrieve:   Wil 

now gynneth this roundelay.   Per. 

Sitting upon a hill so high,   Wil 

hay ho the high hill,   Per. 

The while my flock did feed thereby,   Wil 

the while the shepherd self did spill:   Per. 

I saw the bouncing Bellibone,   Wil 

hay ho Bonibell,   Per. 

Tripping over the dale alone,   Wil 

she can trip it very well:   Per. 

Well decked in a frock of grey,   Wil 

hay ho grey is greet,   Per. 

And in a Kirtle of green say,   Wil 

the green is for maidens meet:   Per. 

A chapelet on her head she wore,   Wil 

hay ho chapelet,   Per. 

Of sweet Violets therein was store,   Wil 

she sweeter than the Violet.   Per. 

My sheep did leave their wont food,   Wil 

hay ho silly sheep,   Per. 

And gazed on her, as they were wood,   Wil 

Wood as he, that did them keep.   Per. 

As the bonilasse passed buy,   Wil 

hay ho bonilasse,   Per. 

She roude at me with glancing eye,   Wil 

as clear as the crystal glass:   Per. 

All as the Sunnye beam so bright,   Wil 

hay ho the Sun beam,   Per. 

Glanceth from Phoebus' face forthright,   Wil 

so love into my heart did stream:   Per. 

Or as the thunder cleaves the clouds,   Wil 

hay ho the Thunder,   Per. 

Wherein the lightsome leaven shrouds,   Wil 

so cleaves thy soul a sunder:   Per. 

Or as Dame Cynthia's silver ray   Wil 

hay ho the Moonlight,   Per. 

Upon the glittering wave doth play:   Wil 

such play is a piteous plight.   Per. 

The glance into my heart did glide,   Wil 

hay ho the glyder,   Per. 

Therewith my soul was sharply gryde,   Wil 

such wounds soon wexen wider.   Per. 

Hasting to raunch the arrow cut,   Wil 

hay ho Perigot,   Per. 

I left the head in my heart root:   Wil 

it was a desperate shot.   Per. 

There it rankleth aye more and more,   Wil 

hay ho the arrow,   Per. 

Ne can I found salve for my sore:   Wil 

love is a careless sorrow.   Per. 

And though my bale with death I bought.   Wil 

hay ho heavy cheer,   Per. 

Yet should thilk lass not from my thought:   Wil 

so you may buy gold to dear.   Per. 

But whether in painful love I pine,   Wil 

hay ho pinching pain,   Per. 

Or thrive in wealth, she shallbe mine.   Wil 

but if thou can her obtain.   Per. 

And if for graceless grief I die,   Wil 

hay ho graceless grief,   Per. 

Witness, she slew me with her eye:   Wil 

let thy folly be the priefe.   Per. 

And you, that saw it, simple sheep,   Wil 

hay ho the fair flock,   Per. 

For priefe thereof, my death shall weep,   Wil 

and moan with many a mock.   Per. 

So learned I love on a holly eve,   Wil 

hay ho holiday,   Per. 

That ever since my heart did grieve.   Wil 

now endeth our roundelay.   Cuddye, 

Sicker sick a roundle never heard I none.  
Little lacketh Perigot of the best.  
And Willye is not greatly overgone,  
So weren his undersongs well addressed.   Willye. 

Herdgrome, I fear me, thou have a squint eye:  
Aread uprightly, who has the victory?   Cuddy. 

faith of my soul, I deem each have gained.  
For thy let the Lamb be Willye his own:  
And for Perigot so well hath him pained,  
To him be the wroughten mazer alone.   Perigot. 

Perigot is well pleased with the doom:  
Ne can Willye wit the witelesse herdgroome.   Willye. 

Never dempt more right of beauty I ween,  
The shepherd of Ida, that judged beauties Queen.   Cuddy. 

But tell me shepherds, should it not yshend  
Your roundels fresh, to hear a doleful verse  
Of Rosalend (who knows not Rosalend?)  
That Colin made, ilk can I you rehearse.   Perigot. 

Now say it Cuddy, as thou art a lad:  
With merry thing its good to meddle sad.   Willy. 

faith of my soul, thou shalt ycrouned be  
In Colin's stead, if thou this song aread:  
For never thing on earth so pleaseth me,  
As him to hear, or matter of his deed,   Cuddy. 

Then listeneth each unto my heavy lay,  
And tune your pipes as ruthful, as ye may.   

YE wasteful woods bear witness of my woe,  
Wherein my plaints did oftentimes resound:  
Ye careless birds are privy to my cries,  
Which in your songs were wont to make apart:  
Thou pleasant spring hast lulled me often a sleep,  
Whose streams my trickling tears did oft augment.  
Resort of people doth my griefs augment,  
The walled towns do work my greater woe:  
The forest wide is fit to resound  
The hollow Echo of my careful cries,  
I hate the house, since thence my love did part.  
Whose wail full want debars mine eyes from sleep:  
Let streams of tears supply the place of sleep:  
Let all that sweet is, void: and all that may augment  
My doole, draw near. Moore meet to wail my woe,  
Been the wild woods my sorrows to resound,  
Then bed, or bower, both which I fill with cries,  
When I them see so waist, and find no part  
Of pleasure past. Here will I devil apart  
In ghastful grove therefore, till my last sleep  
Do close mine eyes: so shall I not augment  
With sight of such a change my restless woe:  
Help me, ye baneful birds, whose shrieking sound  
Is sign of dreary death, my deadly cries  
Most ruthfully to tune. And as my cries  
(Which of my woe cannot be wray lest part)  
You hear all night, when nature craveth sleep,  
Increase, so let your irksome yells augment.  
Thus all the night in plaints, the day in woe  
I vowed have to wayst, till safe and sound  
She home return, whose voices silver sound  
To cheerful songs can change my cherelesse cries.  
Hence with the Nightingale will I take part,  
That blessed bird, that spends her time of sleep  
In songs and plaintive pleas, the more taugment  
The memory of his misdeed, that bred her woe:  
And you that feel no woe, when as the sound  
Of these my nightly cries ye hear apart,  
Let break your sounder sleep and pity augment.   Perigot. 

O Colin, Colin, the shepherds joy,  
How I admire each turning of thy verse:  
And Cuddy, fresh Cuddy the liefest boy,  
How dolefully his doole thou didst rehearse.   Cuddy. 

Then blow your pipes shepherds, till you be at home:  
The night nigheth fast, yts time to be gone.    


Perigot his Emblem.  
Vincenti gloria victi.   

Willyes' Emblem.  
Vinto non vitto.   

Cuddies Emblem.  
Felice chj puo.    

GLOSS  
bestead) disposed, ordered. Peregall) equal. Whilom) once. Rafte) bereft, deprived. Miswent) gone a stray. Ill may) according to Virgile. Infelix o semper ovis pecus.  
A mazer) So also do Theocritus and Virgile feign pledges of their strife.  
Enchased) engraven. Such pretty descriptions every where useth Theocritus, to bring in his Idyllia. For which special cause indeed he by that name termeth his Aeglogues: for Idyllion in Greek signifieth the shape or picture of any thing, whereof his book is full. And not, as I have heard some fond guosse, that they be called not Idyllia, but Haedilia, of the Goteheards in them.  
Entrailed) wrought between.  
Harvest Queen) The manner of country folk in harvest tyme. Pousse.) Pease.  
It fell upon) Perigot maketh his song in praise of his love, to whom Willy answereth every under verse. By Perigot who is meant, I can not uprightly say: but if it be, who is supposed, his love deserveth no less praise, than he giveth her.  
Greet) weeping and complaint. Chaplet) a kind of Garland like a crown.  
leaven) Lightning. Cynthia) was said to be the Moon. Gryde) pierced.  
But if) not unless. Squint eye) partial judgement. Each have) so saith Virgile.  
Et vitula tu dignus, et hic etc.  
So by interchange of gifts Cuddy pleaseth both parts.  
Doom) judgement. Dempt) fordeemed, judged. Wite the witelesse) blame the blameless. The shepherd of Ida) was said to be Paris.  
Beauty's Queen) Venus, to whom Paris adjudged the goldden Apple, as the price of her beauty.  
Emblem. The meaning hereof is very ambiguous: for Perigot by his poesy claming the conquest, & Willye not yielding, Cuddy the arbiter of their cause, and Patron of his own, seemeth to challenge it, as his dew, saying, that he, is happy which can, so abruptly ending but he meaneth either him, that can win the best, or moderate himself being best, and leave of with the best.    

September.  
 

Aegloga Nona.  
ARGUMENT.  
HErein Diggon Davie is devised to be a shepherd, that in hope of more gain, drove his sheep into a far country. The abuses whereof, and lose living of Popish prelate's, by occasion of Hobbinols demannd, he discourseth at large.  

Hobbinol.  
Diggon Davie.   

DIggon Davie, I bid her god day:  
Or Diggon her is, or I missaye.   Diggon. 

Her was her, while it was day light,  
But now her is a most wretched wight.  
For day, that was, is wightly passed,  
And now at erst the dirke night doth haste.   Hobbinoll. 

Diggon aread, who has thee so dight?  
Never I witted thee in so poor a plight.  
Where is the fair flock, thou was wont to lead?  
Or been they chaffred? or at mischief dead?   Diggon. 

Ah for love of that, is to thee most lief;  
Hobbinol, I pray thee gall not my old grief:  
Sike question ripeth up cause of new woe,  
For one opened mote unfold many more.   Hobbinoll. 

Nay, but sorrow close shrouded in heart  
I know, to keep, is a burdenous smart.  
Each thing imparted is more each to bear:  
When the rain is fallen, the clouds wexen clear.  
And now sithence I saw thy head last,  
Thrice three Moons been fully spent and passed:  
Since when thou hast measured much ground,  
And wandered I ween about the world round,  
So as thou can many things relate:  
But tell me first of thy flocks estate.   Diggon. 

My sheep been wasted, (wae is me therefore)  
The jolly shepherd that was of yore,  
Is now nor jolly, nor shepherd more.  
In foreign costs, men said, was plenty:  
And so there is, but all of misery.  
I dempt there much to have eeked my store,  
But such eking hath made my hartsore.  
In though countries, whereas I have been,  
Not being for those, that truly mean,  
But for such, as of guile maken gain,  
Not such country, as there to remain.  
They setten to sale their shops of shame,  
And maken a Mart of their good name.  
The shepherds there robben one another,  
And lain baits to beguile her brother.  
Or they will buy bis sheep out of the cote,  
Or they will carven the shepherds throat.  
The shepherds swain you cannot well ken,  
But it be by his pride, from other men:  
They looken big as Bulls, that been bate,  
And bearen the nag so stiff and so state,  
As cock on his dunghill, crowing crank.   Hobbinoll. 

Diggon, I am so stiff, and so stanck,  
That uneath may I stand any more:  
And now the Western wind bloweth sore,  
That now is in his chief sovereigntee,  
Beating the withered leaf from the tree.  
Sit we down here under the hill:  
Thomas may we talk, and tell our flll,  
And make a mock at the blustering blast.  
Now say on Diggon, what ever thou hast.   Diggon. 

Hobbin, ah hobbin, I curse the stound,  
That ever I cast to have lost this ground.  
Wellaway the while I was so fond,  
To leave the good, that I had in hand,  
In hope of better, that was uncouth:  
So lost the Dog the flesh in his mouth.  
My silly sheep (ah silly sheep)  
That here by there I whilom used to keep,  
All were they lusty, as thou didst see,  
Been all starved with pine and penuree.  
Hardly myself escaped thilk pain,  
Driven for need to come home again.   Hobbinoll, 

Ah fon, now by thy loss art taught,  
That seldom change the better brought.  
Content who lives with tried state,  
Need fear no change of frowning fate:  
But who will seek for unknown gain,  
Often lives by loss, and leaves with pain.   Diggon. 

I wot ne Hobbin how I was bewitched  
With vain desire, and hope to be enriched.  
But sicker so it is, as the bright star  
Seemeth aye greater, when it is far:  
I thought the s●yle would have made me rich:  
But now I wot, it is nothing sich.  
For either the shepherds been idle and still,  
And led of their sheep, what way they will:  
Or they been false, and full of covetise,  
And casten to compass many wrong emprise.  
But the more been freight with fraud and spite,  
Ne in good nor goodness taken delight:  
But kindle coals of contech and ire,  
Wherewith they set all the world on fire:  
Which when they thinken again to quench  
With holy water, they done 'em all drench.  
They say they con to heaven the high way,  
But by my soul I dare undersaye,  
They never set foot in that same trod,  
But balk the right way, and strayen abroad.  
They boast they han the devil at command:  
But ask 'em therefore, what they han pawned.  
Marry that great Pan bought with dear borrow,  
To quite it from the black bower of sorrow.  
But they han sold thilk same long ago:  
For thy woulden draw with 'em many more.  
But let 'em gang alone a God's name:  
As they han brewed, so let 'em bear blame.   Hobbinoll. 

Diggon, I pray thee speak not so dirke.  
Such mister saying me seemeth to mirke.   Diggon. 

Then plainly to speak of shepherds most what,  
Bad is the best (this english is flat.)  
Their ill haviour garres men missay,  
Both of their doctrine, and of their faith.  
They say the world is much war than it wont,  
All for her shepherds been beastly and blunt.  
Other sayne, but how truly I note,  
All for they holden shame of their cote.  
Some stick not to say, (hot coal on her tongue)  
That sick mischief grazeth 'em among,  
All for they casten too much of world's care,  
To deck her Dame, and enrich her heir:  
For such encheason, If you go nigh,  
Few chymneiss reeking you shall espy:  
The fat Ox, that wont lig in the stall,  
Is now fast stalled in her crumenall.  
Thus chatten the people in their steads,  
Ylike as a Monster of many heads.  
But they that shooten nearest the prick,  
Sayne, other the fat from their beards done lick.  
For big Bulls of Basan brace hem about,  
That with their horns button the more stout:  
But the lean souls treaden under foot.  
And to seek redress might little boot:  
For liker been they to pluck away more,  
Then aught of the gotten good to restore.  
For they been like foul wagmoires overgrast,  
That if thy galage once sticketh fast,  
The more to wind it out thou dost swinck,  
Thou might aye deeper and deeper sink.  
Yet better leave of with a little loss,  
Then by much wrestling to lose the gross.   Hobbinoll. 

Now Diggon, I see thou speakest to plain:  
Better it were, a little to feign,  
And cleanly cover, that cannot be cured.  
Such ill, as is forced, might needs be endured  
But of sick pastors how done the flocks creep?   Diggon. 

Sike as the shepherds, sick been her sheep,  
For they nill listen to the shepherds voice,  
But if he call 'em at their good choice,  
They wander at will, and stray at pleasure,  
And to their folds yield at their own leisure.  
But they had be better come at their call:  
For many han into mischief fall,  
And been of ravenous Wolves rent,  
All for they nould be buxom and bend.   Hobbinoll. 

Fie on thee Diggon, and all thy foul leasing,  
Well is known that sith the Saxon king,  
Never was Wolf seen many nor some,  
Nor in all Kent, nor in Chrisiendome:  
But the lesser Wolves (the sooth to say,)  
The more been the Foxes that here remain.   Diggon. 

Yes, but they gang in more secret wise,  
And with sheeps clothing done 'em disguise,  
They walk not widely as they were wont  
For fear of raungers, and the great hunt:  
But privily prowling two and fro,  
Enaunter they might be inly know.   Hobbinol. 

Or prive or pert if any been,  
We han great Bandogs will tear their skin.   Diggon. 

Indeed thy ball is a bold big cur,  
And could make a jolly hole in thoyr fur.  
But not good dogs hem needeth to chase,  
But heedy shepherds to difcerne their face.  
For all their craft is in their countenance,  
The been so grave and full of maintenance.  
But shall I tell thee what myself know,  
Chanced to Roffynn not long ygoe?   Hobbinol. 

Say it out Diggon, what ever it height,  
For not but well might him betight.  
He is so meek, wise, and merciable,  
And with his word his work is convenable.  
Colin clout I ween be his self boy,  
(Ah for Colin he whilom my joy)  
Shepherds sich, God might us many sand,  
That done so carefully their flocks tend.   Diggon. 

Thilk same shepherd might I well mark:  
He has a Dog to bite or to bark,  
Never had shepherd so keen a kurre,  
That waketh, and if but a lease stir.  
Whilom there wonned a wicked Wolf,  
That with many a Lamb had glutted his gulf.  
And ever at night wont to repair  
Unto the flock, when the Welkin shone fair,  
Ycladde in clothing of silly sheep,  
When the good old man used to sleep.  
Thomas at midnight he would bark and ball,  
(For he had eft learned a curs call.)  
As if a Wolf were among the sheep.  
With that the shepherd would break his sleep,  
And sand out louder (for so his dog hot)  
To range the fields with wide open throat.  
Thomas when as louder was far away.  
This Wolvish sheep would catchen his prey,  
A Lamb, or a Rid, or a weanell waste:  
With that to the wood would he speed him fast.  
Long time he used this slippery prank,  
Ere Roffy could for his labour him thank  
At end the shepherd his practice spied,  
(For Roffy is wise, and as Argus eyed)  
And when at even he came to the flock,  
Fast in their folds he did them lock,  
And took out the Wolf in his counterfeit cote,  
And let out the sheeps blood at his throat.   Diggon. 

Mary Diggon, what should him affray,  
To take his own where ever it lay?  
For had his weasand been a little widder,  
He would have devoured both hidder & shidder.   Diggon. 

Mischief light on him, and Gods great curse,  
Too good for him had been a great deal worse:  
For it was a perilous beast above all,  
And eke had he cond the shepherds call.  
And often in the night came to the sheepcote,  
And called Louder, with a hollow throat,  
As if it the old man self had bene.  
The dog his masters voice did it ween,  
Yet half in doubt, he opened the door,  
And ran out, as he was wont of yore.  
Not sooner was out, but swifter than thought,  
Fast by the vyde the Wolf louder caught:  
And had not Roffy run to the steven,  
louder had be slain thilk same even.   Hobbinoll. 

God shield man, he should so ill have thrive,  
All for he did his devoir believe.  
If sick vene Wolves, as thou hast told,  
How might we Diggon, hem behold.   Diggon. 

How, but with heed and watch fullness,  
For stallen hem of their wiliness?  
For thy with shepherd sits not play,  
Or sleep, as some done, all the long day:  
But ever liggen in watch and ward,  
From soddein force their flocks for to guard.   Hobbinoll. 

Ah Diggon, thilk same rule were too strait,  
All the cold season to wach and wait.  
We been of flesh, men as other Bee.  
Why should we be bound to such miseree?  
What ever thing lackech changeable rest,  
Might needs decay, when it is at best.   Diggon. 

Ah but Hobbinol, all this long tale,  
Naught easeth the care, that doth me forhaile.  
What shall I do? what way shall I wend,  
My piteous plight and loss to amend?  
Ah good Hobbinol, might I thee pray,  
Of aid or counsel in my decay.   Hobbinoll. 

Now by my soul Diggon, I lament  
The hapless mischief, that has thee hent,  
nevertheless thou seest my lowly sail,  
That froward fortune doth ever avail.  
But were Hobbinoll, as God might please,  
Diggon should soon found favour and ease.  
But if to my cottage thou wilt resort,  
So as I can: I will thee comfort:  
There mayst thou lig in a vetchy bed,  
Till fairer Fortune show forth his head.   Diggon. 

Ah Hobbinol, God might it thee requited.  
Diggon on few such friends did ever light.    

Diggons emblem.  
Jnopem me copia fecit.   

GLOSS.  
The Dialecte and phrase of speech in this Dialogue, seemeth somewhat to differ from the comen. The cause whereof is supposed to be, by occasion of the party herein meant, who being very friend to the Author hereof, had been long in foreign countries, and there seen many disorders, which he here recounteth to Hobbinoll.  
Bid her) Bid good morrow. For to bid, is to pray, whereof cometh beads for prayers, and so they say, To bid his beads. s to say his prayers.  
Wightly) quickly, or suddenly. Chaffred) sold. Dead at mischief) an unusual speech, but much usurped of Lidgate, and sometime of Chaucer.  
Lief) dear. E'the) easy. These three moons) nine months. Measured) for traveled.  
Waes) woe Northernly. Eeked) increased. carven) cut. ken) know.  
crag) neck. State) stoutly Stanck) weary or faint.  
And now) He applieth it to the time of the year, which is in th'end of harvest, which they call the fall of the leaf: at which time the Western wind beareth most sway.  
A mock) Imitating Horace, Debes ludibrium ventis. Lome) left Soot) sweet.  
Vncouthe) unknown. Hereby there) here and there. As the bright) Trarslated out of Mantuane. Emprise) for enterprise. Per Syncopen. Contek) strife.  
trod) path. Marry that) that is, their souls, which by popish Exorcisms & practices they dam to hell.  
Black) hell. Ganges) go. Mister) manner. Mirke) obscure. War) worse.  
Crumenall) purse. Brace compasse●: Encheson) occasion. Ouergrast) overgrown with grass. Galage) shoe. The gross) the whole.  
Buxom and bend) meek and obedient.  
Saxon king) K. Edgar, that reigned here in Brytanye in the year of our Lord. which king caused all the Wolves, whereof then was store in this country, by a proper policy to be destroyed. So as never since that time, there have been Wolves here found, unless they were brought from other countries. And therefore Hobbinoll rebuketh him of untruth, for saying there be Wolves in England.  
Nor in Christendom) This saying seemeth to be strange and unreasonable: but indeed it was want to be an old proverb and comen phrase. The original whereof was, for that most part of England in the reign of king Ethelbert was christened, Kent only except, which remained long after in mysbeliefe and unchristened, So that Kent was counted no part of Christendom.  
Great hunt) Executing of laws and justice. Enaunter) lest that.  
Inly) inwardly. afforesayde. privily or pert) openly saith Chaucer.  
Roffy) The name of a shepherd in Marot his Eclogue of Robin and the King. whom he here commendeth for great care and wise governance of his flock  
Colin clout) Now I think no man doubteth but by Colin is ever meant the Author self. whose especial good friend Hobbinoll saith he is, or more rightly Master Gabriel Harvey: of whose special commendation, aswell in poetry as Rhetoric and other choice learning, we have lately had a sufficient trial in diverse his works, but specially in his Musarum Lachrymae, and his late Gratulationun Valdinensium which book in the progress at Audley in Essex, he dedicated in writing to her Majesty. afterwards presenting the same in print unto her Highness at the worshipful Master chapels in Hertfordshire. Beside other his sundry most rare and very notable writings, partly under unknown Titles, and partly under counterfeit names, as his Tyrannomastix, his Ode Natalitia, his Rameidos, and esspecially that part of Philomusus, his divine Anticosmopolita, and divers other of like importance. As also by the names of other shepherds, he covereth the persons of divers other his familiar friends and best acquaintance.  
This tale of Roffy seemeth to colour some particular Action of his. But what, I certain lie know not. Wonned) haunted. Welkin) sky. afforesaid.  
A Weanell waste) a weaned youngling. Hidder and shidder) He & she. Male and Female. Steven) Noise. Believe) quickly. What ever) Ovid's verse translated. Quod caret alterna requie, durabile non est.  
Forehaile) draw or distress. Vetchie) of Pease straw.  
Emblem. This is the saying of Narcissus in ovid. For when the foolish boy by beholding his face in the brook, fell in love with his own likeness: and not able to content himself with much lookng thereon, he cried out, that plenty made him poor. meaning that much gazing had bereft him of sense. But our Diggon useth it to other purpose, as who that by trial of many ways had found the worst, and through great plenty was fallen into great penury. This poesy I know, to have been much used of the author, and to such like effect, as first Narcissus spoke it.    

October.  
 

Aegloga decima.  
ARGUMENT.  
IN Cuddy is set out the perfect pattern of a Poet, whishe finding no maintenance of his state and studies, complaineth of the contempt of Poetry, and the causes thereof: Specially having been in all ages, and even amongst the most barbarous always of singular accounpt & honour, & being indeed so worthy and commendable an art: or rather no art, but a divine gift and heavenly instinct not to be gotten by labour and learning, but adorned with both: and poured into the wit by a certain 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and celestial inspiration, as the Author hereof else where at large discourseth, in his book called the English Poet, which book being lately come to my hands, I mind also by God's grace upon further advisement to publish.  

Pierce.  
Cuddy.   

CVddie, for shame hold up thy heavy head,  
And let us cast with what delight to chase:  
And weary this long lingering Phoebus' race.  
Whilom thou wonted the shepherds lads to lead,  
In rhymes, in riddles, and in bidding base:  
Now they in thee, and thou in sleep art dead?   Cuddye. 

Piers, I have piped erst so long with pain,  
That all mine Oaten reeds been rend and wore:  
And my poor Muse hath spent her spared store,  
Yet little good hath got, and much less gaune.  
Such pleasance makes the Grasshopper so poor,  
And lig so laid, when Winter doth her strain:   

The dapper ditties, that I want devise,  
To feed youths fancy, and the flocking fry,  
Delighten much: what I the bet for thy?  
They han the pleasure, I a slender prize.  
I beat the bush, the birds to them do fly:  
What good there of to Cuddy can arise?   Pires. 

Cuddy, the praise is better, than the price,  
The glory eke much greater than the gain:  
O what an honour is it, to restrain  
The lust of lawless youth with good advice:  
Or prick them forth with pleasance of thy vain,  
Whereto thou list their trained wills entice.   

Soon as thou gynst to set thy notes in frame,  
O how the rural routs to thee do cleave:  
Seemeth thou dost their soul of sense bereave,  
All as the shepherd, that did fetch his dame  
From Pluto's baleful bower withouten leave:  
His musics might the hellish hound did tame.   Cuddy. 

So praisen babes the Peacocks' spotted train,  
And wondren at bright Argus' blazing eye:  
But who rewards him ere the more for thy?  
Or feeds him once the fuller by a grain?  
Sike praise is smoke, that sheddeth in the sky,  
Sike words been wind, and wasten soon in vain.   Piers. 

Abandon then the base and viler clown,  
life up thyself out of the lowly dust:  
And sing of bloody Mars, of wars, of giusts,  
Turn thee to those, that wield the awful crown.  
To doubted Knights, whose woundless armour rusts,  
And helms unbruzed wexen daily brown.   

There may thy Muse display her fluttring wing,  
And stretch herself at large from East to West:  
Wither thou list in fair Elisa rest,  
Or if thee please in bigger notes to sing,  
Advance the worthy whom she loveth best,  
That first the white bear to the stake did bring.   

And when the stubborn stroke of stronger stounds,  
Has somewhat slacked the tenor of thy string:  
Of love and lustihead though mayst thou sing,  
And carol loud, and lead the millers round,  
All were Elisa one of thilk same ring.  
So might our Cuddies name to Heaven found.   Cuddye. 

Indeed the Romish Tityrus, I hear,  
Through his Maecenas left his Oaten reed,  
Whereon he erst had taught his flocks to feed,  
And laboured lands to yield the timely ear,  
And eft did sing of wars and deadly dread,  
So as the Heavens did quake his verse to here.   

But ah Maecenas is clad in clay,  
And great Augustus long ygoe is dead:  
And all the worthies liggen wrapped in lead,  
That matter made for Poets on to play:  
For ever, who in derring do were dread,  
The lofty verse of hem was loved ay.   

But after virtue 'gan for age to stoop,  
And mighty manhood brought a bed of ease:  
The vaunting Poets found naught worth a pease,  
To put in press among the learned troop.  
Thomas 'gan the streams of flowing wits to cease,  
And sonnebright honour penned in shameful coupe.   

And if that any buds of Poesy,  
Yet of the old stock 'gan to shoot again:  
Or it men's follies moat be forced to fayne,  
And roll with rest in rhymes of ribaldry.  
Or as it sprung, it wither must again:  
Tom Piper makes us better melody.   Piers. 

O pierlesse Poesy, where is then the place?  
If nor in Prince's palace thou do sit:  
(And yet is Prince's palace the most fit)  
Ne breast of base birth doth thee embrace.  
Then make thee wings of thine aspiring wit,  
And, whence thou camest, fly back to heaven apace.   Cuddy. 

Ah Percy it is all to weak and wan,  
So high to sore, and make so large a flight:  
Her pieced pyneons been not so in plight,  
For Colin fits such famous flight to scan:  
He, were he not with love so ill bedight,  
Would mount as high, and sing as soot as Swan.   Pires 

Ah fon, for love does teach him climb so high,  
And lyftes him up out of the loathsome mire:  
Such immortal mirror, as he doth admire,  
Would raise one's mind above the starry sky.  
And 'cause a caitiff courage to aspire,  
For lofty love doth loathe a lowly eye.   

All otherwise the state of Poet stands,  
For lordly love is such a Tyrant fell:  
That where he rules, all power he doth expel.  
The vaunted verse a vacant head demands.  
Ne wont with crabbed care the Muses devil,  
Unwisely weaves, that takes two webs in hand.   

Who ever casts to compass weighty prize,  
And thinks to throw out thundering words of threat:  
Let power in lavish cups and thrifty bits of meat,  
For Bacchus' fruit is friend to Phoebus' wise.  
And when with Wine the brain gins to sweat,  
The numbers flow as fast as spring doth rise.   

Thou kenst not Percy how the rhyme should rage's.  
O if my temples were distained with wine,  
And girt in garlands of wild Ivy twine,  
How I could rear the Muse on stately stage,  
And teach her tread aloft in bus-kin fine,  
With quaint Bellona in her equipage.   

But ah my courage cools ere it be warm,  
For thy, content us in this humble shade:  
Where no such troublous tides han us assayed,  
Here we our slender pipes may safely charm.   Pires. 

And when my Gates shall han their bellies laid:  
Cuddy shall have a Kid to store his farm.    


Cuddies Emblem.  
agitant calescimus illo etc.    

GLOSS.  
This Eclogue is made in imitation of Theocritus his xuj. Idilion, wherein he reproved the Tyrant Hiero of Syracuse for his nigardise toward poets, in whom is the power to make men immortal for their good deeds, or shameful for their naughty life. And the like also is in Mantuane, The style hereof as also that in Theocritus, is more lofty than the rest, and applied to the height of Poetical wit.  
Cuddy] I doubt whether by Cuddy be specified the author self, or some other. For in the eight Eclogue the same person was brought in, singing a Cantion of Colin's making, as he saith. So that some doubt, that the persons be different.  
Whilom) sometime. Oaten reeds) Auena.  
Ligge so laid) lie so saint and unlusty. Dapper) pretty.  
Frye) is a bold Metaphor, forced from the spawning fishes. for the multitude of young fish be called the fry.  
To restrain:) This place seemeth to conspire with Plato, who in his first book de Legibus saith, that the first invention of Poetry was of very virtuous intent. For at what time an infinite number of youth usually came to their great solemn feasts called Panegyrica, which they used every five year to hold, some learned man being more able than the rest, for special gifts of wit and Music, would take upon him to sing fine verses to the people, in praise eythet of virtue or of victory or of immortality or such like. At whose wondered gift all men being astonished and as it were ravished, with delight, thinking (as it was indeed) that he was inspired from above, called him vatem: which kind of men afterward framing their verses to lighter music (as of music be many kinds, some sadder, some lighter, some martial, some heroical: and so diversely eke affect the minds of men) found out lighter matter of Poesy also, some playing with love, some scorning at men's fashions, some powered out in pleasures, and so were called poets or makers.  
Sense bereave) what the secret working of Music is in the minds of men, aswell appeareth hereby, that some of the ancient Philosophers, and those the most wise, as Plato and Pythagoras held for opinion, that the mind was made of a certain harmony and musical numbers, for the great compassion & likeness of assection in th'one and in the other as also by that memorable history of Alexander: to whom when as Timotheus the great physician played the Phrygian mclodie, it is said, that he was distraught with such unwonted fury, that straight way rising from the table in great rage, he caused himself to be armed, as ready to go to war (for that music is very war like:) And immediately whenas the physician changed his stroke into the Lydian and jonique harmony, he was so ●urr from warring, that he sat as still, as if he had been in mats of counsel. Such might is in music. wherefore Plato and Aristotle forbidden the Aradian Melody from children and youth. for that being altogether on the fift and seven, tone, it is of great force to mollify and quench the kindly courage, which useth to burn in young breasts. So that it is not incredible which the Poet here saith, that Music can bereave the soul of sense.  
The shepherd that) Orpheus: of whom is said, that by his excellent skill in Music and Poetry, he recovered his wife Eurydice from hell.  
Argus' eyes) of Argus is before said, that juno to him committed her husband jupiter his Paragon Iô, because he had an hundred eyes: but afterward Mercury with his Music lulling Argus asleep, slay him and brought Iô away, whose eyes it is said that Inno for his eternal memory placed in her bird the Peacock's tail. for those coloured spots indeed resemble eyes.  
Woundless armour) unwounded in war, do rust through long peace.  
Display) A poetical metaphor: whereof the meaning is, that if the Poet list show his skill in matter of more dignity, then is the homely Eclogue, good occasion is him offered of higher vain and more Heroical argument, in the person of our most gracious sovereign, who (as before) he calleth Elisa. Or if matter of knighthood and chivalry please him better, that there be many Noble & valiant men, that are both worthy of his pain in their deserved praises, and also favourers of his skill and faculty.  
The worthy) he meaneth (as I guess) the most honourable and renowned the Earl of Leycester, whon by his cognisance (although the same be also proper to other) rather then by his name he bewrayeth, being not likely, that the names of noble princes be known to country clown.  
Slack) that is when thou changest thy verse from stately discourse, to matter of more pleasance and delight.  
The Millers) a kind of dance. Ring) company of dancers.  
The Romish Tityrus) well known to be Virgile, who by Maecenas means was brought into the favour of the Emperor Augustus, and by him moved to write in loftier kind, than he erst had doen.  
Whereon) in these three verses are the three several works of Virgile intended. For in teaching his flocks to feed, is meant his Aeglogues. In labouring of lands, is his Bucoliques. In singing of wars and deadly dread, is his divine Aeneis figured.  
In derring do) In manhood and chivalry.  
For ever) He showeth the cause, why poets were wont be had in such honour of noble men; that is, that by them their worthiness & valour should through their famous Posies be commended to all posterities. wherefore it is said, that Achilles had never been so famous, as he is, but for Homeres immortal verses. which is the only advantage, which he had of Hector. And also that Alexander the great coming to his tomb in Sigeus, with natural tears blessed him, that ever was his hap to be honoured with so excellent a Poet's work: as so renowned, and ennobled only by his means. which being declared in a most eloquent Oration of Tully's, is of Petrarch no less worthily set forth in a sonnet  

Giunto Alexandro a la famosa tomba  
Del fero Achille sospirando disse  
O fortunato che si chiara tromba. Trovasti etc.   
And that such account hath been always made of Poetes, as well showeth this that the worthy Scipio in all his wars against Carthage and Numantia had evermore in his company, and that in a most familiar sort the good old Poet Ennius: as also that Alexander destroying Thebes, when he was informed that the famous Lyric Poet Pindarus was borne in that city, not only commanded straightly, that no man should upon pain of death do any violence to that house by fire or otherwise: but also specially spared most, and some highly rewar dead, that were of his kin. So favoured he the only name of a Poet. which praise otherwise was in the same man no less famous, that when he came to ransacking of king Darius' coffers, whom he lately had overthrown, he found in a little coffer of silver the two books of Homer's works, as laid up there for special jewels and richesses, which he taking thence, put one of them daily in his bofome, and though there every night laid under his pillow.  
Such honour have poets always found in the sight of princes and noble men. which this author here very well showeth, as else where more notably.  
But after) he showeth the cause of contempt of Poetry to be idleness and baseness of mind. Penned) shut up in sloth, as in a coop or cage.  
Tom piper) An Ironical Sacrasmus, spoken in derision of these rude wits, which make more account of a rhyming rybaud, then of skill grounded upon learning and judgement.  
Ne breast) the meaner sort of men. Her pieced pinions) unperfect skill. Spoken with humble modesty.  
As soot as Swan) The comparison seemeth to be strange: for the swan hath ever won small commendation for her sweet singing: but it is said of the learned that the swan a little before her death, singeth most pleasantly, as prophesying by a secret instinct her near destiny As well saith the Poet elsewhere in one of his sonnets.  

The silver swan doth sing before her dying day  
As she that feels the deep delight that is in death etc.   
Immortal myrrhour) Beauty, which is an excellent object of Poetical spirits, as appeareth by the worthy Petraches saying.  

Fiorir faceva il mio debile ingegno  
A la sua ombra, et crescer ne gli affanni.   
A caitiff courage) a base and abject mind.  
For lofty love) I think this playing with the letter to be rather a salt then a figure, aswell in our English tongue, as it hath been always in the Latin, called Cacozelon.  
A vacant) imitateth Mantuanes saying. va cuum curis divina cerebrum Poscit.  
Lavish cups) Resembleth that comen verse Faecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.  
O if my) He seemeth here to be ravished with a Poetical fury. For (if one rightly mark) the numbers rise so full, & the verse groweth so big, that it seemeth he hath forgot the meanness of shepherds state and style.  
Wild ivy) for it is dedicated to Bacchus & therefore it is said that the Maenades (that is Bacchus frantic priests) used in their sacrifice to carry Thyrsos, which were pointed staves or javelins, wrapped about with ivy.  
In buskin) it was the manerof poets & players in tragedies to were buskins, as also in Comedies to use stocks & light shoes. So that the buskin in Poetry is used for tragical matter, as it said in Virgilc. Sola sophocleo tua carmina digna cothurno. And the like in Horace, Magnum loqui, nitique cothurno.  
Quaint) strange Bellona; the goddess of battle, that is Pallas, which may therefore well be called quaint for that (as Lucian saith) when jupiter her father was in travail of her, he caused his son Vulcan with his axe to hue his head. Out of which leapt forth lustily a valiant damsel armed at all points, whom seeing Vulcan so fair & comely, lightly leaping to her, proffered her some courtesy, which the Lady disdeigning, shaked her spear at him, and threatened his sauciness. Therefore such strangeness is well applied to her.  
Equipage.) order. Tides) seasons.  
Charm) temper and order. for Charms were want to be made by verses as Ovid saith. Aut si carminibus.  
Emblem. Hereby is meant, as also in the whole course of this Eclogue, that Poetry is a divine instinct and unnatural rage passing the reach of comen reason. Whom Piers answereth Epiphonematicos as admiring the excellency of the skill whereof in Cuddy he had already had a taste.    

November.  
 

Aegloga undecima.  
ARGUMENT.  
In this xi. Eclogue he bewaileth the death of some maiden of great blood, whom he calleth Dido. The parsonage is secret, and to me altogether unknown, albe of himself I often required the same. This Eclogue is made in imitation of Marot his song, which he made upon the death of Joys the french Queen. But far passing his reach, and in mine opinion all other the Eglogues of this book.  

Thenot.  
Colin.   

COlin my dear, when shall it please thee sing,  
As thou were wont songs of some iovisaunce?  
Thy Muse to long slombreth in sorrowing,  
Lulled a sleep through loves misgovernance,  
Now somewhat sing, whose endless sovenance,  
Among the shepherds swains may ay remain,  
Whether thee list thy loved lass advance,  
Or honour Pan with hymns of higher vain.   Colin. 

Thenot, now nis the time of merimake.  
Nor Pan to herye, nor with love to play:  
Sike mirth in May is meetest for to make,  
Or summer shade under the cocked hay.  
But now sad Winter welked hath the day,  
And Phoebus' weary of his yearly task:  
Ystabled hath his steeds in lowly say,  
And taken up his in in Fishes has-ke.  
Thilk sollein season sadder plight doth ask:  
And loatheth sick delights, as thou dost praise:  
The mournful Muse in mirth now list ne mask,  
As she was wont in youngth and summer days.  
But if thou algate lust light virelayes,  
And loser songs of love to undersong  
Who but thyself deserves sick poets praise?  
Relieve thy Oaten pipes, that sleepen long.   Thenot. 

The Nightingale is sovereign of song,  
Before him sits the Titmose silent be:  
And I unfit to thrust in skilful throng,  
Should Colin make judge of my fooleree.  
Nay, better learn of 'em, that learned be,  
And han be watered at the Muses well:  
The kindlye dewedrops from the higher tree,  
And wets the little plants that lowly devil.  
But if sad winter's wrath and season chill,  
Accord not with thy Muse's merriment:  
To sadder times thou mayst attune thy quill,  
And sing of sorrow and deaths dreariment.  
For dead is Dido, dead alas and 〈◊〉,  
Dido the great shepherd his daughter sheen:  
The fairest May she was that ever went,  
Her like she has not left behind I ween.  
And if thou wilt bewail my woeful tene:  
I shall thee give yond Cosset for thy pain:  
And if thy rhymes as round and rueful been,  
As those that did thy Rosalind complain,  
Much greater gifts for guerdon thou shalt gain,  
Then Kid or Cosset, which I thee bynempt:  
Then up I say, thou jolly shepherd swain,  
Let not my small demand be so contempt.   Colin. 

Thenot to that I choose, thou dost me tempt,  
But ah to well I wot my humble vain,  
And how my rhymes been rugged and unkempt:  
Yet as I con, my cunning I will strain.   

UP than Melpomene thou mournfulst Muse of nine,  
Such cause of mourning never hadst afore:  
Up grisly ghosts and up my rueful rhyme,  
Matter of mirth now shalt thou have no more.  
For dead she is, that mirth thee made of yore.  
Dido my dear alas is dead,  
Dead and lieth wrapped in lead:  
O heavy hearse,  
Let streaming tears be poured out in store:  
O careful verse.   

Shepherds, that by your flocks on Kentish downs abide,  
Wail ye this woeful waste of nature's work:  
Wail we the wight, whose presence was our pride:  
Wail we the wight, whose absence is our cark.  
The son of all the world is dim and dark:  
The earth now lacks her wont light,  
And all we devil in deadly night,  
O heavy hearse.  
Break we our pipes, that shrilled as loud as Lark,  
O careful verse.   

Why do we longer live, (ah why live we so long)  
Whose better days death hath shut up in woe?  
The fairest flower our garland all among,  
Is faded quite and into dust ygoe.  
Sing now ye shepherds daughters, sing no more  
The songs that Colin made in her praise,  
But into weeping turn your wanton lays,  
O heavy hearse,  
Now is time to dye. Nay time was long ygoe,  
O careful verse.   

Whence is it, that the flouret of the field doth fade,  
And lieth buried long in Winter's bale:  
Yet soon as spring his mantle doth display,  
It flowereth fresh, as it should never fail?  
But thing on earth that is of most avail,  
As virtues branch and beauty's bud.  
Reliven not for any good.  
O heavy hearse,  
The branch once dead, the bud eke needs must quail,  
O careful verse.   

She while she was, (that was, a woeful word to say)  
For beauty's praise and pleasance had no peer:  
So well she couth the shepherds entertain,  
With cakes and cracknells and such country cheer.  
Ne would she scorn the simple shepherds swain,  
For she would call 'em often heme  
And give 'em curds and clouted Cream.  
O heavy hearse,  
Als Colin clout she would not once disdain.  
O careful verse.   

But now sick happy cheer is turned to heavy chance,  
Such pleasance now displaced by dolours dint:  
All Music sleeps, where death doth lead the dance,  
And shepherds wont solace is extinct.  
The blue in black, the green in grey is tinct,  
The gaudy garlands deck her grave,  
The faded flowers her corpse embrave.  
O heavy hearse,  
Morn now my Muse, now morn with tears besprint.  
O careful verse.   

O thou great shepherd Lobbin, how great is thy grief,  
Where been the nosegays that she dight for thee:  
The coloured chaplets wrought with a chief,  
The knotted rushrings, and guilt Rosemaree?  
For she deemed nothing too dear for thee.  
Ah they been all clad in clay,  
One bitter blast blewe all away.  
O heavy hearse,  
Thereof naught remains but the memores.  
O careful verse.   

Aye me that dreerie death should strike so mortal stroke,  
That can undo Dame natures kindly course:  
The faded locks fall from the lofty oak,  
The floods do gasp, for dried is their source,  
And floods of tears flow in their stead perforce.  
The mantled meadows morune,  
Their sundry colours torune.  
O heavy hearse,  
The heavens do melt in tears without remorse.  
O carsefull verse.   

The feeble flocks in field refuse their former food,  
And hung their heads, as they would learn to weep:  
The beasts in forest wail as they were wood,  
Except the Wolves, that chase the wandering sheep:  
Now she is gone that safely did 'em keep,  
The Curtle on the bared branch,  
Laments the wound, that death did launch.  
O heavy hearse,  
And Philomele her song with tears doth steep.  
O careful verse.   

The water Nymphs, that wont with her to sing and dance,  
And for her garland Olive branches bear,  
Now baleful boughs of Cypress done advance:  
The Muses, that were wont green bays to wear,  
Now bringen bitter Eldre branches sear,  
The fatal sisters eke repent,  
Her vital thread so soon was spent.  
O heavy hearse,  
Morn now my Muse, now morn with heavy cheer.  
O careful verse.   

O trustless state of earthly things, and slipper hope  
Of mortal men, that swink and sweat for naught,  
And shooting wide, do miss the marked scope:  
Now have I learned (a lesson dearly bought)  
That nis on earth assurance to be sought:  
For what might be in earthly mould,  
That did her buried body hold.  
O heavy hearse,  
Yet saw I on the bear when it was brought  
O careful verse.   

But maugre death, and dreaded sisters deadly spite,  
And gates of hell, and fiery fury's force:  
She hath the bonds broke of eternal night,  
Her soul unbodied of the burdenous corpse.  
Why then weeps Lobbin so without remorse?  
O Lob, thy loss no longer lament,  
Dido nis dead, but into heaven hent.  
O happy hearse,  
Cease vow my Muse, now cease thy sorrows source,  
O joyful verse.   

Why wail we then? why weary we the Gods with plaints,  
As if some evil were to her betight?  
She reigns a goddess now among the saints,  
That whilom was the saint of shepherds light:  
And is installed now in heavens height.  
I see thee blessed soul, I see,  
Walk in Elysian sieldes so free.  
O happy hearse,  
Might I once come to thee (O that I might)  
O joyful verse.   

Unwise and wretched men to weet what's good or ill,  
We deem of Death as doom of ill desert:  
But knew we fools, what it us brings until,  
die would we daily, once it to expert.  
No danger there the shepherd can astart:  
Fair fields and pleasant lays there been,  
The fields aye fresh, the grass aye green:  
O happy hearse,  
Make hast ye shepherds, thither to revert,  
O joyful verse.   

Dido is gone afore (whose turn shall be the next?)  
There lives she with the blessed Gods in bliss,  
There drink she Nectar with Ambrosia mixed,  
And joys enjoys, that mortal men do miss.  
The honour now of highest gods she is,  
That whilom was poor shepherds pride,  
While here on earth she did abide.  
O happy hearse,  
Cease now my song, my woe now wasted is.  
O joyful verse.   Thenot. 

Aye frank shepherd, how been thy verses meint  
With doolful pleasance, so as I ne wot,  
Whether rejoice or weep for great constraint?  
Thine be the cossette, well hast thou it got,  
Up Colin up, enough thou mourned haste,  
Now gins to mizzle, high we homeward fast.    

Colin's Emblem.  
La mort ny mord.   

GLOSS.  
jovisaunce) mirth. Sovenaunce) remembrance. Herie) honour.  
Welked) shortened or impaired. As the Moon being in the wain is said of Lidgate to welk.  
In lowly lay) according to the season of the month November, when the son draweth low in the South toward his Tropic or return.  
In fish's haske) the son, reigneth that is, in the sign Pisces all November. a haske is a wicker pad, wherein they use to carry fish.  
Virelays) a light kind of song.  
Be watered) For it is a saying of poets, that they have drunk of the Muses well Castlias, whereof was before sufficiently said.  
Dreariment) dreary and heavy cheer.  
The great shepherd) is some man of high degree, and not as some vainly suppose God Pan. The person both of the shepherd and of Dido is unknown and closely buried in the Author's conceit. But out of doubt I am, that it is not Rosalind, as some imagine: for he speaketh soon after of her also.  
Shene) fair and shining. May) for maid. Tene) sorrow.  
Guerdon) reward. Bynempt) bequeathed. Cosset) a lamb brought up without the dam. Unkempt) Incompti Not combed, that is rude & unhandsome.  
Melpomene) The sad and waylefull Muse used of Poets in honour of Tragedies: as saith Virgile Melpomene Tragico proclamat maesta boatu.  
Up grisly ghosts) The manner of Tragical poets, to call for help of Furies and damned ghosts: so is Hecuba of Euripides, and Tantalus brought in of Seneca. And the rest of the rest. Hearse) is the solemn obsequy in funerals.  
Waste of) decay of so beautiful a piece. cark) care.  
Ah why) an elegant Epanorthosis. as also soon after. nay time was long ago.  
Flouret) a diminutive for a little flower. This is a notable and sententious comparison A minore ad maius.  
Reliven not) live not again. s not in their earthly bodies: for in heaven they enjoy their due reward.  
The branch) He meaneth Dido, who being, as it were the main branch now withered the buds that is beauty (as he said afore) can no more flourish.  
With cakes) fit for shepherds banquets. Home) for home. after the northern pronouncing. Tuict) died or stained.  
The gaudy) the meaning is, that the things, which were the ornaments of her life, are made the honour of her funeral, as is used in burials.  
Lobbin) the name of a shepherd, which seemeth to have been the lover & dear friend of Dido. Rushring) agreeable for such base gifts  
Faded locks) dried leaves. As if Nature her self bewailed the death of the Maid.  
Source) spring. Mantled meadows) for the sundry flowers are like a Mantle or coverlet wrought with many colours.  
Philomele) the Nightingale. whom the poets feign once to have been a Lady of great beauty, till being ravished by her sister's husband, she desired to be turned into a bird of her name. whose complaints be very well set forth of Ma. George Gaskin a witty gentleman, and the very chief of our late rymers, who and if some parts of learning wanted not (albeit it is well known he altogether wanted not learning) no doubt would have attained to the excellency of those famous Poets. For gifts of wit and natural promptness appear in him abundantly.  
Cypress) used of the old Paynims in the 〈…〉 shing of their funeral Pomp. and properly the of all sorrow and heaviness.  
The fatal sisters) Clotho Lachesis and Atropodas, ughters of Herebus and the Night, whom the poets feign to spin the life of man, as it were a long thread, which they draw out in length, till his fatal hour & timely death be come; but if by other casualty his days be abridged, than one of them, that is Atropos, is said to have cut the thread in twain. Hereof cometh a common verse.  Clotho colum baiulat, lachesis trahit, Atrhpos occat. 
O trustless) a gallant exclamation moralised with great wisdom and passionate with great affection. Bear) a frame, whereon they use to lay the dead corpse.  
Furies) of poets be feigned to be three, Persephone Allecto and Megaera, which are said to be the Authors of all evil and mischief.  
Eternal might) Is death or darkness of hell. Betight) happened,  
I see) A lively Icon, or representation as if he saw her in heaven present.  
Elysian fields) be devised of poets to be a place of pleasure like Paradise, where the hap pie souls do rest in peace and eternal happiness.  
Dye would) The very epresse saying of Plato in Phaedone.  
Astert] befall unwares.  
Nectar and Ambrosia) be feigned to be the drink and food of the gods: Ambrosia they liken to Manna in scripture and Nectar to be white like cream, whereof is a proper tale of Hebe, that spilled a cup of it, and stained the heavens, as yet appeareth. But I have already discoursed that at large in my Commentarye upon the dreams of the same Author. Meynt) Mingled.  
Emblem. Which is as much to say, as death biteth not. For although by course of nature we be borne to dye, and being ripened with age, as with a timely harvest, we must be gathered in time, or else of ourselves we fall like rotten ripe fruit fro the tree: yet death is not to be counted for evil, nor (as the Poet said a little before) as doom of ill desert) For though the trespass of the first man brought death in to the world, as the guerdon of sin, yet being overcome by the death of one, that died for all, it is now made (as Chaucer saith) the green path way to life. So that it agreeth well with that was said, that Death biteth not (that is) hurteth not at all.    

December.  
 

Aegloga Duodecima.  
ARGUMENT.  
THis Eclogue (even as the first began) is ended with a complaint of Colin to God Pan. wherein as weary of his former ways, he proportioneth his life to the four seasons of the year, comparing his youth to the spring time, when he was fresh and free from loves folly. His manhood to the summer, which he saith, was consumed with great heat and excessive drought caused through a Comet or blazing star, by which he meaneth love, which passion is commonly compared to such flames and immoderate heat. His riper years he resembleth to an unseasonable harvest wherein the fruits fall ere they be ripe. His latter age to winter's chill & frosty season, now drawing near to his last end.  

THe gentle shepherd sat beside a springe,  
All in the shadow of a bushy brere,  
That Colin height, which well could pipe and sing,  
For he of Tityrus his songs did lere.  
There as he sat in secret shade alone,  
Thus 'gan he make of love his piteous moan.   

O sovereign Pan thou God of shepherds all,  
Which of our tender Lambkins takest keep:  
And when our flocks into mischance might fall,  
Dost save from mischief the unwary sheep:  
Als of their masters haste no less regard,  
Then of the flocks, which thou dost watch and ward:   

I thee beseech (so be thou deign to hear,  
Rude ditties tuned to shepherds Oaten reed,  
Or if I ever sonnet song so clear,  
As it with pleasance might thy fancy feed)  
Hearken awhile from thy green cabinet,  
The rural song of careful Colinet.   

Whilom in youth, when flowrd my joyful spring,  
Like Swallow swift I wandered here and there:  
For heat of heedless lust me so did sting,  
That I of doubted danger had no fear.  
I went the wasteful woods and forest wide,  
Withouten dread of Wolves to been espied,   

I wont to range amid the mazie thickette,  
And gather nuts to make me Christmas gain:  
And joyed often to chase the trembling Pricket,  
Or hunt the heartless hare, till she were tame.  
What wreaked I of wintrye ages waste,  
Thomas deemed I, my spring would ever last.   

How often have I scaled the craggy Oak,  
All to dislodge the Raven of her nest:  
How have I wearied with many a stroke,  
The stately Walnut tree, the while the rest  
Under the tree fell all for nuts at strife:  
For ylike to me was liberty and life.   

And for I was in thilk same loser years,  
(Whether the Muse, so wrought me from my birth,  
Or I tomuch believed my shepherd peers)  
Somedele ybent to song and musics mirth.  
A good old shepherd, Wrenock was his name,  
Made me by art more cunning in the same.   

Fro thence I durst in derring to compare  
With shepherds swain, what ever fed in field:  
And if that Hobbinol right judgement bore,  
To Pan his own self pipe I need not yield.  
For if the flocking Nymphs did follow Pan.  
The wiser Muses after Colin ran.   

But ah such pride at length was ill repaid,  
The shepherds God (perdie God was he none)  
My hurtless pleasance did me ill upbraid,  
My freedom lost, my life he left to moon.  
Love they him called, that gave me checkmate,  
But better might they have behote him Hate.   

Thomas 'gan my lovely Spring bid me farewell,  
And Summer season sped him to display  
(For love then in the lions house did devil)  
The raging fire, that kindled at his ray.  
A comett stirred up that unkindly heat,  
that reigned (as men said) in Venus' seat.   

Forth was I led, not as I wonted afore,  
When choice I had to choose my wandering way:  
But whether luck and loves unbridled lore  
Would lead me forth on Fancies bit to play.  
The bush my bed, the bramble was my bower,  
The Woods can witness many a woeful stowre.   

Where I was wont to seek the honey Bee,  
Working her formal rowines in Wexen frame:  
The grisly Todestoole grown there might I see  
And loathed Paddocks lording on the same.  
And where the chanting birds lulled me a sleep,  
The ghastly Owl her grievous in doth keep.   

Then as the springe gives place to elder time,  
And bringeth forth the fruit of summers pride:  
Also my age now passed youngthly prime,  
To things of riper reason self applied.  
And learned of lighter timber coats to frame,  
Such as might save my sheep and me fro shame.   

To make fine cages for the Nightingale,  
And Baskets of bulrushes was my wont:  
Who to entrap the fish in winding sale  
Was better seen, or hurtful beasts to hont?  
I learned als the signs of heaven to ken,  
How Phoebe fails, where Venus sits and when.   

And tried time yet taught me greater things,  
The sudden rising of the raging seas:  
The sooth of birds by beating of their wings,  
The power of herbs, both which can hurt and ease:  
And which be wont to tenrage the restless sheep,  
And which be wont to work eternal sleep.   

But ah unwise and witless Colin clout,  
That kydst the hidden kinds of many a weed:  
Yet kydst not even to cure thy sore heart root,  
Whose rankling wound as yet dors rifelye bleed.  
Why livest thou still, and yet hast thy deaths wound?  
Why diest thou still, and yet alive art found?   

Thus is my summer worn away and wasted,  
Thus is my harvest hastened all to rathe:  
The ear that budded fair, is burnt & blasted,  
And all my hoped gain is turned to scathe.  
Of all the seed, that in my youth was sown,  
Was naught but brakes and brambles to be mown.   

My boughs with bloosmes that crowned were at first,  
And promised of tunely fruit such store,  
Are left both bore and barren now at erst:  
The flattering fruit is fallen to ground before.  
And rotten, ere they were half mellow ripe:  
My harvest waste, my hope away did wipe.   

The fragrant flowers, that in my garden grew,  
Been withered, as they had been gathered long.  
Their roots been dried up for lack of dew,  
Yet dewed with tears they han be ever among.  
Ah who has wrought my Rosalind this spite  
To spill the flowers, that should her garland dight,   

And I, that whilom wont to frame my pipe,  
Unto the shifting of the shepherds foot:  
Sike folly now have gathered as too ripe,  
And cast 'em out, as rotten and unsoote.  
The loser Lass I cast to please no more,  
One if I please, enough is me therefore.   

And thus of all my harvest hope I have  
Naught reaped but a weedye crop of care:  
Which, when I thought have threshed in swelling sheave,  
Cockel for corn, and chaff for barley bore.  
Soon as the chaff should in the fan be find,  
All was blown away of the wavering wind.   

So now my year draws to his latter term,  
My spring is spent, my summer burnt up quite:  
My harvest hasts to stir up winter stern,  
And bids him claim with rigorous rage his right.  
So now he storms with many a sturdy stoure,  
So now his blustering blast each cost doth scour.   

The careful cold hath nypt my rugged rind,  
And in my face deep furrows eld hath pight:  
My head besprent with hoary frost I find,  
And by mine eye the Crow his claw doth wright,  
Delight is laid abed, and pleasure past,  
No son now shines, clouds han all over cast.   

Now leave ye shepherds boys your merry glea,  
My Muse is hoarse and weary of this stound:  
Here will I hung my pipe upon this tree,  
Was never pipe of reed did better sound.  
Winter is come, that blows the bitter blast,  
And after Winter cometh death does haste.   

Gather ye together my little flock,  
My little flock, that was to me so lief:  
Let me, ah let me in your folds ye lock,  
Ere the breme Winter breed you greater grief.  
Winter is come, that blows the baleful breath,  
And after Winter cometh timely death.   

Adieu delights, that lulled me asleep,  
Adieu my dear, whose love I bought so dear:  
Adieu my little Lambs and loved sheep,  
Adieu ye Woods that often my witness were:  
Adieu good Hobbinol, that was so true,  
Tell Rosalind, her Colin bids her adieu.    

Colin's Emblem.   

GLOSS.  
Tityrus) Chaucer as hath been often said. Lambkin's) young lambs.  
Als of their) Seemeth to express Virgil's verse Pan curate oves oviumque magistros.  
Deign) vouchsafe. Eabinet) Colinet) diminutines.  
Mazie) For they be like to a maze whence it is hard to get out again.  
Peres) fellows and companions.  
Music) that is Poetry as Terence saith Qui artem tractant musicam, speaking of poets.  
Derring do) aforesaid.  
Lion's house) He imagineth simply that Cupid, which is love, had his abode in the hot sign Leo, which is in midst of summer; a pretty allegory, where of the meaning is, that love in him wrought an extraordinary heat of lust.  
His ray) which is Cupid's beam or flames of love.  
A Comet) a blazing star, meant of beauty, which was the cause of his hot love.  
Venus') the goddess of beauty or pleasure. Also a sign in heaven, as it is here taken. So he meaneth that beauty, which hath always aspect to Venus, was the cause of all his unquietness in love.  
Where I was) a fine description of the change of his life and liking; for all things now seemed to him to have altered their kindly course.  
Lording) Spoken after the manner of Paddocks and Frogs sitting which is indeed Lordly, not removing nor looking once a side, unless they be stirred.  
Then as) The second part. That is his manhood.  
Coats) sheepecotes. for such be the exercises of shepherds.  
Sale) or Salow a kind of wood like Wyllow, fit to wreath and bind in leaps to catch fish withal.  
Phoebe sails) The Eclipse of the Moon, which is always in Cauda or Capite Draconis, signs in heaven.  
Venus') s. Venus star otherwise called Hesperus and Vesper and Lucifer, both because he seemeth to be one of the brightest stars, and also first riseth and setteth last. All which still in stars being convenient for shepherds to know as Theocritus and the rest use.  
Raging seas) The cause of the swelling and ebbing of the sea cometh of the course of the Moon, sometime increasing, sometime waning and decreasing.  
Sooth of birds) A kind of sooth saying used in elder times, which they gathered by the flying of birds; First (as is said) nivented by the Thulcanes', and from them derived to the Romans, who (as is said in Livy) were so superstitiously rooted in the same, that they agreed that every Noble man should put his son to the tuscans, by them to be broughr up in that knowledge.  
Of herbs) That wondrous things be wrought by herbs, aswell appeareth by the common working of them in our bodies, as also by the wonderful enchantments and sorceries that have been wrought by them; in somuch that it is said that Circe a famous sorceress turned men into sundry kinds of beasts & Monsters, and only by herbs: as the Poet saith Dea saeva potentibus heibis etc.  
Kidst) knewest. Ear) of corn. Scathe) loss hindrance.  
Ever among) Ever and anon.  
This is my) The third part wherein is set forth his ripe years as an untimely harvest, that bringeth little fruit.  
The flagraunt flowers) sundry studies and laudable parts of learning, wherein how our Poet is seen, be they witness which are privy to his study.  
So now my year) The last part, wherein is described his age by comparison of wyntrye storms.  
Careful cold) for care is said to cool the blood. Glee mirth)  
Hoary frost) A metaphor of hoary hears scattered like to a grey frost.  
Breeme) sharp and bitter.  
Adieu delights) is a conclusion of all. where in six verses he comprehendeth briefly all that was touched in this book. In the first verse his delights of youth generally. in the second, the love of Rosalind, in the third, the keeping of sheep, which is the argument of all Aeglogues. In the fourth his complaints. And in the last two his processed friendship and good will to his good friend Hobbinoll.  
Emblem. The meaning whereof is that all things perish and come to their last end, but works of learned wits and monuments of Poetry abide for ever. And therefore Horace of his Odes a work though full indeed of great wit & learning, yet of no so great weight and importance boldly saith.  

Exegi monimentum aere perennius.  
Quod nec imber nec aquilo vorax etc.   
Therefore let not be envied, that this Poet in his Epilogue saith he hath made a Calendar, that shall endure as long as time etc. following the ensample of Horace and Ovid in the like.  

Grande opus exegi quae nec iovis ira nec ignis,  
Nec ferum poterit nec edax abolere vetustas etc.     


Lo I have made a Calendar for every year,  
That steel in strength, and time in durance shall out wear:  
And if I marked well the stars revolution,  
It shall continue till the world's dissolution.  
To teach the ruder shepherd how to feed his sheep,  
And from the falsers' fraud his folded flock to keep.  
Go little Calendar, thou hast a free passport,  
Go but a lowly gate emongste the meaner sort.  
Dare not to match thy pipe with Tityrus his style,  
Nor with the Pilgrim that the Ploughman played a while:  
But follow them far off, and their high steps adore,  
The better please, the worse despise, I ask no more.   
Merce non mercede.   

 
Imprinted at London by Hugh Singleton, dwelling in Creed lane at the sign of the gylden Tuon near unto Ludgate.