Give any cafe unto thy troubled mind,
We joy as much to give, as thou to find,
The love-fick (wain replied: Remond, thou art
The man alone to whom I would impart
My woes, more willing than to any fwain,
That lives and feeds his fheep upon the plain.
But vain it is, and 'twould increase my woes
By their relation, or to thee or those
That cannot remedy. Let it fuffice,
No fond diftruft of thee makes me precife
To fhew my grief. Leave me then, and forego
This cave more fad, fince I have made it fo.
Here tears broke forth. And Remond 'gan

anew:

With fuch entreaties earnest to pursue

His former fuit, that he (though hardly) wan
The fhepherd to difclofe; and thus began:
Know briefly Remond then, a heavenly face,
Nature's idea, and perfection's grace,
Within my breast hath kindled fuch a fire,
That doth confume all things, except defire;
Which daily doth increafe, though always burn-
ing,

And I want tears, but lack no cause of mourning: "For he whom love under his colours draws,

May often want th' effect, but ne'er the caufe."
Quoth th' other, have thy stars malign been fuch,
That their predominations fway so much
Over the reft, that with a mild afpect
The lives and loves of thepherds do affect?
Then do I think there is tome greater hand,
Which thy endeavours ftill doth countermand:
Wherefore I wish thee quench the flame, thus
mov'd,

"And never love except thou be belov'd:
"For fuch an rumour every woman feizeth,
"She not him that plaineth, but that pleaseth.

When much thou loveft, molt dildaia comes on "thee; [from thee, "And when though think'ft to hold her, fhe flies "She follow'd, flies; the filed from, follows poít, "And loveth best where he is hated moft. "'l'is ever noted both in maids and wives,

Their hearts and tongues are never relatives. Hearts full of holes (fo elder fhepherd's faine), "As apter to receive than to retain." Whole crafts and wiles did I intend to show, This day would not permit me time, I know: The day's fwift horfes would their courfe have

Time will extinct loves flames, his hell-like flashes,

And like a burning brand confume't to ashes.
Yet mayft thon fill attend, but not importune:
"Who fecks oft miffeth, fleepers light on fortune,"
Yea, and on woman too. Thus doltih fots
"Have fate and faireft women for their lots.
"Favour and pity wait on patience :"
And hatred oft attendeth violence.

If thou wilt get defire, whence love has pawn'd it,
Believe me, take thy time, but ne'er demand it.
Women, as well as men, retain defire;
But can diflemble, more then men, their fire.
Be never caught with looks, nor felf-wrought ru

mour;

Nor by a quaint difguife, nor finging humour. Thofe out fide fhews are toys, which outwards

fnare:

But virtue lodg'd within, is only fair.
If thou hadst feen the beauty of our nation,
And find ft her have no love, have thou no paf-
fion :

But feck thou further; other places fure
May yield a face as fair, a love more pure:
Leave (O, then leave) fond twain this idle courfe,
For love's a god no mortal wight can force.

Thus Remiond faid, and faw the fair Marine
Plac'd near a spring, whofe waters chryftaline
Did in their murmurings bear a part, and 'plained
That one fo true fo fair, fhould be difdained:
Whilft in her cries, that fill'd the vale along,
Still Celand was the burden of her feng.
The firanger fhepherd left the other swain,
To give attendance to his fleecy train;
Who in departing from him, let him know,
That yonder was his freedom's overthrow,
Who fat he wailing (as he late had done)
That love by true affection was not won.
This fully known: Remond came to the maid
And after fome few words (her tears allay'd)
Began to blame her rigour, call'd her cruel,
To follow hate, and fly love's chiefeft jewel.

Fair, do not blame him that he thus is mov'd;
For women fure were made to be beloved.
If beauty wanting lovers long fhould stay,
It like an houfe undwelt in would decay:
When in the heart if it have taken place,
Time cannot blot, nor crooked age deface.
I he adamant and beauty we difcover
To be alike; for beauty draws a lover,
The adamant his iron. Do not blame
His loving then, but that which caus'd the fame.
Who fo is lov'd doth glory fo to be:
The more your lovers, more your victory.
Know, if you fland on faith, moft womens loath-
ing,

'Tis but a word, a character of nothing.
Admit it fomewhat, if what we call constance,
Within a heart hath no long time refidence,
And in a woman she becomes alone
Fair to herfelf but foul to every one.
If in a man it once have taken place,
He is a fool, or deats, or wants a face
To win a woman, and I think it be
No virtue, but a mere neceffity.

done,

Strive not to bring that in derifion,
Which whofoe'er detracts in fetting forth,
Doth truly derogate from his own worth.
It is a thing which heaven to all hath lent
To be their virtue's chiefeft ornament:
Which whofo wants, is well compar'd to these
Falfe tables, wrought by Alcibiades:

Which noted well of all, were found t' have been
Moft fair without, but most deform'd within.
Then fhepherd know that I intend to be

As true to one, as he is falfe to me.

To one? (quoth he) why fo? Maids pleasure take

To fee a thousand languish for their fake :
Women defire for lovers of each fort,

And why not you? Th' amorous fwain for sport;

The lad that drives the greatest flock to field,
Will bufkins, gloves, and other fancies yield;
The gallant fwain will fave you from the jaws
Of ravenous bears, and from the lion's paws.
Believe what I propound; do many choose,
"The leaft herb in the field ferves for fome use.”
Nothing perfuaded, nor afsuag'd by this,
Was fairest Marine or her heaviness:
But prais'd the fhepherd as he ere did hope,
His filly theep fhould fearless have the fcope
Of all the fhadows that the trees do lend,

From Raynard's ftealth, when Titan doth afcend,

And run his midway courfe; to leave her there,
And to his bleating charge again repair.
He condefcended; left her by the brook,
And to the fwain and's fheep himself betook.
He gone; the with herself thus gan to faine;
Alas poor Marine, think'it to attain
His love by fitting here? or can the fire
Be quencht with wood? can we allay defire
By wanting what's defired? O that breath,
The caufe of life, fhould be the cause of death ;
That who is fhipwreckt on love's hidden shelf,
Doth live to others, dies unto herself.
Why might I not attempt by death as yet
To gain that freedom, which I could not get,
Being hind'red heretofore; a time as free,
A place as fit offers itself to me,

Whofe feed of ill is grown to fuch a height,
That makes the earth groan to fupport his
weight.

Who fo is lull'd afleep with Midas'reafures,
And only fears by death to lofe life's pleasures;
Let them fear death; but fince my faut is iuch,
And only fault, that I have lov'd too much,
On joys of life why fhould I fland for those
Which I near had, I furely cannot lose.

Admit a while I to thofe thoughts confented, Death can be but deferred, not prevented."

* They reprefented a god or goddess without, and a Silenus or deformed piper within. Erafmus has a curious differtation on Sileni Alcibiades. Adag. p. 667. Edit. R. Stephens.

Uther'd her way, and the into a well
Straightways leapt after: "O! how defperation
"Attends upon the mind enthral'd to paffion!"
The fall of her did make the god below,
Starting, to wonder whence that noife fhould
grow:

Whether fome ruder clown in fpite did fling
A lamb, untimely fall'n, into his Ipring:
And if it were, he folemnly then fwore

His fpring fhould flow fome other way: no

more

Should it in wanton manner ere be seen
To writhe in knots, or give a gown of green
Unto their meadows, nor be feen to play,
Nor drive the ruthy mills, that in his way
The thepherd's made: but rather for their lot,
Send them red waters that their sheep fhould

rot.

And with fuch moorifh fprings embrace their field,

That it should nought but mofs and rushes yield.
Upon each hillock, where the merry boy
Sits piping in the fhade his notes of joy,
He'd fhew his anger, by fome flood at hand,
And turn the fame into a running fand.
Upon the oak, the plumb tree and the holm,
The ftock dove and the blackbird fhould not
come,

Whofe muting on thofe trees does make to grow
Rots curing hyphear, and the miffeltoe.
Nor fhall this help their fheep, whofe ftomachs

faits,

By tying knots of wool near to their tails:
But as the place next to the knot doth die,
So fhall it all the body mortify.

Thus fpake the god: But when, as in the water,
The crops came finking down, he spy'd the mat-

ter,

And catching foftly in his arms the maid,
He brought her up; and having gently laid
Her on his bank, did prefently command
Those waters in her, to come forth: At hand
They ftraight came gufhing out, and did conteft
Which chiefly fhould obey their god's behest.
This done, her then pale lips he ftraight held ope,
And from his filver hair let fall a drop
Into her mouth, of fuch an excellence,
That call'd back life, which griev'd to part from
thence,

Being for troth affur'd, that, than his one,
She ne'er poffeft a fairer mansion.
Then did the god her body forwards steep,
And caft her for a while into a fleep;
sitting ftill by her, did his full view take
Of nature's masterpiece. Here, for her fake,
My pipe in filence, as of right, fhall mourn,
Iill from the wat'ring we again return.

typhear ad faginanda Pecora utiliomus: nins autem fatum nullo modo nafcitur, nec nifi per alvum avium redditum maxinè Palumbiset Turdi. Plin. Hift. Nut. 16. cap. 44. Hinc illud vetus verbum, turdus fibi malum cacat.

Now till the fun fhall leave us to our reft,
And Cynthia have her brother's place poffeft,
1 fhall go on: And, first, in diff'ring slripe,
The flood-god's speech thus tune on oaten pipe;
Or mortal, or a power above,
Inrag'd by fury, or by love,
Or both, I know not, fuch a deed
Thou would'st effected, that I bleed
To think thereon: Alas! poor elf,
What, grown a traitor to thyself?
This face, this hair, this hand so pure
Were not 'ordain'd for nothing fure.
Nor was it meant fo fweet a breath
Should be expos'd by such a death;
But rather in fome lover's breast,
Be given up, the place that best
Befits a lover yield his foul.

Nor fhould thofe mortals e'er controul
The gods, that in their wisdom fage
Appointed have what pilgrimage
Each one should run: And why should men
Abridge the journey fet by them?
But much I wonder any wight
If he did turn his outward fight

Into his inward, dar'd to act
Her death, whose body is compac
Of all the beauties ever nature
Laid up in ftore for earthly creature.
No favage beast can be fo cruel
To rob the earth of fuch a jewel.
Rather the stately unicorn
Would in his breaft enraged fcorn,
That maids committed to his charge,
By any beaft in forest large,

Should be fo wrong'd. Satyrs rude
Durft not attempt, or e'er intrude
With fuch a mind the flowry balks,
Where harmless virgins have their walks,
Would the be won with me to stay,
My waters should bring from the fea
The corral red, as tribute due,
And roundest pearls of orient hue:
Or in the richer veins of ground
Should feek for her the diamond.
And whereas now unto my fpring
They nothing else but gravel bring,
They fhould within a mine of gold
In piercing manner long time hold,
And having it to duft well wrought,
By them it hither should be brought;
With which I'll pave and overspread
My bottom, where her foot shall tread.
The best of fishes in my flood
Shall give themselves to be her food.
The trow, the dace, the pike, the bream,
The eel, that loves the troubled stream,
The millers-thumb, the hiding loach,
The perch, the ever-nibbling roach,
The fhoats, with whom is Tavie fraught,
The foolish gudgeon, quickly caught,
And, laft, the little minnow-fish,
Whofe chief delight in gravel is.

In right fhe cannot me defpife,
Because fo low mine empire lies.
For I could tell how nature's ftore
Of majesty appeareth more
In waters, than in all the reft
Of elements. It feem'd her beft

To give the waves most strength and
pow'r :

For they do fwallow and devour
The earth; the waters quench and kill
The flames and fire: and mounting ftill
Up in the air, are seen to be,
As challenging a seignore

Within the heavens, and to be one
That should have like dominion.
They be a ceiling and a floor
Of clouds, caus'd by the vapours store
Arifing from them, vital spirit
By which all things their life inherit
From them is stopped, kept asunder.
And what's the reason else of thunder,
Of lightning's flashes all about,
That with fuch violence break out,
Caufing fuch troubles and fuch jars,
As with itself the world had wars?
And can there any thing appear
More wonderful, than in the air
Congealed waters oft to spy
Continuing pendant in the fky?
Till falling down in hail or snow,
They make those mortal wights below
To run, and ever help defire
From his foe element the fire,
Which fearing them to come abroad
Within doors maketh his abode.
On falling down oft time in rain,
Doth give green liveries to the plain,
Make fhepherd's lambs fit for the dish,
And giveth nutriment to fish.
Which nourisheth all things of worth
The earth produceth and brings forth;
And therefore well confidering
The nature of it in each thing:

As when the teeming earth doth grow
So hard, that none can plow nor sow,
Her breaft it doth fo mollify,
That it not only comes to be
More easy for the share and ox,
But that in harvest times the fhocks
Of Ceres' hanging eared corn
Doth fill the hovel and the barn.
To trees and plants I comfort give;
By me they fructify and live:
For, first, afcending from beneath
Into the sky, with lively breath,
I thence am furnish'd, and bestow
The fame on herbs, that are below.
So that by this each one may fee
I cause them fpring and multiply.
Who feeth this, can do no less,
Than of his own accord confess,
That notwithstanding all the strength
The earth enjoys in breadth and length,
She is beholding to each stream,
And hath received all from them.
Her love to him the then muft give,
By whom herself doth chiefly live.
This being spoken by this water's god,
He straightway in his hand did take his rod,
And stroke it on his bank, wherewith the flood
Did such a roaring make within the wood,

That straight the («) nymph who then sat on her shore,

Knew there was fomewhat to be done in store :
And therefore hafting to her brother's fpring
She fpy'd what caus'd the waters echoing.
Saw where fair Marine first afleep did lie,
Whilft that the god ftill viewing her fat by:
Who, when he faw his fifter nymph draw near,
He thus 'gan tune his voice unto her ear.
Faireft fifter (for we come

Both from the fwelling Thetis' womb)
The reason why of late I ftrook
My ruling wand upon my brook
Was for this purpofe; late this maid
Which on my bank asleep is laid,
Was by herself, or other wight,
Caft in my spring, and did affright
With her late fall, the fish that take
Their chiefeft pleasure in my lake:
Of all the fry within my deep,
None durft out of their dwellings peep.
The trout within the weeds did fcud,
The eel him hid within the mud.
Yea, from this fear I was not free:
For as I mufing fat to fee

How that the pretty pebbles round
Came with my fpring from under ground,
And how the waters iffuing

Did make them dance about my fpring;
The noise thereof did me appal :
That starting upward therewithal,

I in my arms her body caught,

And both to light and life her brought: Then caft her in a fleep you fee. But, brother, to the cause (quoth fhe) Why by your raging waters wild Am I here called? Thetis' child, Reply'd the god, for thee I fent, That when her time of fleep is spent, I may commit her to thy gage, Since women best know women's rage, Meanwhile, fair nymph, accompany My fpring with thy sweet harmony; And we will make her foul to take Some pleasure, which is fad to wake, Although the body hath his reft. She gave confent: and each of them addreft Unto their part. The watry nymph did fing In manner of a pretty questioning: The god made anfwer to what the propounded, Whilft from the spring a pleasant mufic founded, (Making each fhrub in filence to adore them) Taking their fubject from what lay before them.

NYMPH.

What's that, compact of earth, infus'd with air, A certain, made full with uncertainties; Sway'd by the motion of each several sphere; Who's fed with nought but infelicities; Endures not heat nor cold; is like a swan, That this hour fings, next dies?

GOD. It is a man.

NYMPH.

What's he, born to be fick, fo always dying, That's guided by inevitable fate;

(a) The watry nymph that spoke to Remond.