Collection of Poems, Eclogue 5
The Shepheards Hunting.
The fifth Eglogue.
THE ARGVMENT.
Philaret Alexis moues,
To embrace the Muſes loues;
Bids him neuer carefull ſeeme,
Of anothers diſ-eſteeme:
Since to them it may ſuffice,
They themſelues can iuſtly prize.
PHILARETE. ALEXIS.
Philarete.
ALexis, if thy worth doe not diſdaine
The humble friendſhip of a meaner Swaine,
Or ſome more needfull buſineſſe of the day,
Vrge thee to be too haſty on thy way;
Come (gentle Shepheard) reſt thee here by mee,
Beneath the ſhadow of this broad leau'd tree:
For though I ſeeme a ſtranger, yet mine eye
Obſerues in thee the markes of courteſie:
And if my iudgement erre not, noted to,
More then in thoſe that more would ſeeme to doe.
Such Vertues thy rare modeſty doth hide.
Which by their proper luſter I eſpy'd;
And though long maskt in ſilence they hauehave beene,
I hauehave a Wiſedome through that ſilence ſeene,
Yea, I hauehave learned knowledge from thy tongue,
And heard when thou haſt in concealement ſung.
Which me the bolder and more willing made
Thus to inuite thee to this homely ſhade.
And though (it may be) thou couldſt neuer ſpie,
Such worth in me, I might be knowne thereby:
In thee I doe; for here my neighbouring Sheepe
VponUpon the border of theſe Downes I keepe:
Where often thou at Paſtorals and Playes,
Haſt grac'd our Wakes on Summer Holy-dayes:
And many a time with thee at this cold ſpring
Met I, to heare your learned ſhepheards ſing,
Saw them diſporting in the ſhady Groues,
And in chaſte Sonnets wooe their chaſter Loues:
When I, endued with the meaneſt skill,
Mongſt others hauehave been vrg'd to tune my quill.
But, (cauſe but little cunning I had got)
Perhaps thou ſaw'ſt me, though thou knew'ſt me not.
Alexis.
Yes Philaret, I know thee, and thy name.
Nor is my knowledge grounded all on fame.
Art thou not he, that but this other yeere,
Seard'ſt all the Wolues and Foxes in the Sheere?
And in a match at Foot-ball lately tride
(Hauing ſcarce twenty Satyrs on thy ſide)
Held'ſt play: and though aſſailed kept'ſt thy ſtand
Gainſt all the beſt-tride Ruffians in the Land?
Did'ſt thou not then in dolefull Sonnets mone,
When the beloued of great Pan was gone?
And at the wedding of faire Thame and Rhine,
Sing of their glories to thy Valentine?
I know it, and I muſt confeſſe that long
In one thing I did doe thy nature wrong:
For, till I mark'd the ayme thy Satyrs had,
I thought them ouer-bold, and thee halfe mad.
But, ſince I did more neerely on thee looke,
I ſoone perceiu'd that I all had miſtooke;
I ſaw that of a Cynicke thou mad'ſt ſhow,
Where ſince, I finde, that thou wert nothing ſo;
And that of many thou much blame had'ſt got,
When as thy Innocency deſeru'd it not.
But that too good opinion thou haſt ſeem'd
To hauehave of me (not ſo to be eſteem'd,)
Preuailes not ought to ſtay him who doth feare,
He rather ſhould reproofes then prayſes heare.
'Tis true, I found thee plaine and honeſt to,
Which made mee like, then louelove, as now I do;
And, Phila, though a ſtranger, this to the Ile ſay,
Where I doe louelove, I am not coy to ſtay.
Philarete.
Thankes, gentle Swaine, that doſt ſo ſoone vnfold
What I to thee as gladly would hauehave told▪
And thus thy wonted curteſie expreſt
In kindly entertaining this requeſt.
Sure, I ſhould iniure much my owne content,
Or wrong thy louelove to ſtand on complement:
Who haſt acquaintance in one word begun,
As well as I could in an age hauehave done.
Or by an ouer-weaning ſlowneſſe marre
What thy more wiſdome hath brought on ſo farre.
Then ſit thou downe, and Ile my minde declare,
As freely, as if we familiars were:
And if thou wilt but daigne to giuegive me eare,
Something thou mayſt for thy more profit heare.
Alexis.
Philarete, I willingly obey.
Philarete.
Then know, Alexis, from that very day,
When as I ſaw thee at thy Shepheards Coate,
Where each (I thinke) of other tooke firſt note;
I meane that Paſtor who by Tauies ſprings,
Chaſte Shepheards loues in ſweeteſt numbers ſings,
And with his Muſicke (to his greater fame)
Hath late made proud the faireſt Nymphs of Thame.
E'ne then (me thought) I did eſpy in thee
Some vnperceiu'd and hidden worth to bee:
Which, in thy more apparant vertues, ſhin'd;
And, among many, I (in thought) deuin'd,
By ſomething my conceit had vnderſtood,
That thou wert markt one of the Muſes brood,
That, made me louelove thee: and that LoueLove I beare
Begat a Pitty, and that Pitty, Care:
Pitty I had to ſee good parts conceal'd,
Care I had how to hauehave that good reueal'd,
Since 'tis a fault admitteth no excuſe,
To poſſeſſe much, and yet put nought in vſe.
Hereon I vow'd (if wee two euer met)
The firſt requeſt that I would ſtriue to get,
Should be but this, that thou would'ſt ſhew thy skill,
How thou could'ſt tune thy Verſes to thy quill:
And teach thy Muſe in ſome well-framed Song,
To ſhew the Art thou haſt ſuppreſt ſo long:
Which if my new-acquaintance may obtaine,
I will for euer honour this daies gaine.
Alexis.
Alas! my ſmall experience ſcarce can tell,
So much as where thoſe Nymphs, the Muſes, dwell;
Nor (though my …low conceit ſtill trauels on)
Shall I ere reach to drinke of Hellicon.
Or, if I might ſo fauour'd be to taſte
What thoſe ſweet ſtreames but ouer-flow in waſte,
And touch Parnaſſus, where … …ow'ſt doth lie,
I feare my skill would hardly flag ſo hie.
Philarete.
Deſpaire not Man, the Gods hauehave prized nought
So deere, that may not be with labour bought:
Nor need thy paine be great, ſince Fate and Heauen,
That (as a bleſſing) at thy birth hauehave giuen.
Alexis.
Why, ſay they had?—
Philarete.
—Then vſe their gifts thou muſt.
Or be vngratefull, and ſo be vnjuſt:
For if it cannot truely be deni'd,
Ingratitude mens benefits doe hide;
Then more vngratefull muſt he be by ods,
Who doth conceale the bounty of the Gods.
Alexis.
That's true indeed, but Enuy haunteth thoſe
Who ſeeking Fame, their hidden skill diſcloſe:
Where elſe they might (obſcur'd) from her eſpying,
Eſcape the blaſts and danger of enuying:
Cryticks will cenſure our beſt ſtraines of Wit,
And pur-blind Ignorance miſconſter it.
And which is bad, (yet worſe then this doth follow)
Moſt hate the Muſes, and contemne Apollo.
Philarete.
So let them: why ſhould wee their hate eſteeme?
Is't not enough we of our ſelues can deeme?
'Tis more to their diſgrace that we ſcorne them,
Then vntounto vsus that they our Art contemne.
Can we hauehave better paſtime then to ſee
Their groſſe heads may ſo much deceiued bee,
As to allow thoſe doings beſt, where wholly
We ſcoffe them to their face, and flout their folly?
Or to behold blacke Enuy in her prime,
…e ſelfe-conſum'd, whilſt we vie liues with time:
And, in deſpight of her, more ſame attaine,
Then all her malice can wipe out againe?
Alexis.
Yea, but if I appli'd mee to thoſe ſtraines,
Who ſhould driue forth my Flocks vntounto the plaines,
Which, whil'ſt the Muſes reſt, and leaſure craue,
Muſt watering, folding, and attendance hauehave?
For if I leaue with wonted care to cheriſh
Thoſe tender heards, both I and they ſhould periſh.
Philarete.
Alexis, now I ſee thou doſt miſtake,
There is no meaning thou thy Charge forſake;
Nor would I wiſh thee ſo thy ſelfe abuſe,
As to neglect thy calling for thy Muſe.
But, let theſe two, ſo each of other borrow,
That they may ſeaſon mirth, and leſſen ſorrow.
Thy Flocke will helpe thy charges to defray,
Thy Muſe to paſſe the long and teadious day:
Or whilſt thou tun'ſt ſweet meaſures to thy Reed,
Thy Sheepe, to liſten, will more neere thee feed;
The Wolues will ſhun them, birds aboue thee ſing,
And Lamkins dance about thee in a Ring.
Nay, which is more; in this thy low eſtate,
Thou in contentment ſhalt with Monarks mate:
For mighty Pan, and Ceres, to vsus grants,
Our Fields and Flocks ſhall helpe our outward wants:
The Muſes teach vsus Songs to put off cares,
Grac'd with as rare and ſweet conceits as theirs:
And we can thinke our Laſſes on the Greenes
As faire, or fairer, then the faireſt Queenes:
Or, what is more then moſt of them ſhall doe,
Wee'le make their iuſter fames laſt longer to,
And hauehave our Lines by greateſt Princes grac'd
When both their name and memori's defac'd.
Therefore, Alexis, though that ſome diſdaine
The heauenly Muſicke of the Rurall plaine,
What is't to vsus, if they (o'reſeene) contemne
The dainties which were nere ordain'd for them?
And though that there be other-ſome enuy
The prayſes due to ſacred Poeſie,
Let them diſdaine, and fret till they are weary,
Wee in our ſelues hauehave that ſhall make vsus merry:
Which, he that wants, and had the power to know it,
Would giuegive his life that he might die a Poet.
Alexis:
A braue perſwaſion.—
Philarete.
—Here thou ſee'ſt mee pent
Within the jawes of ſtrict impriſonment;
A fore-lorne Shepheard, voyd of all the meanes.
Whereon Mans common hope in danger leanes,
Weake in my ſelfe, expoſed to the Hate
Of thoſe whoſe Enuies are inſatiate:
Shut from my friends, baniſh'd from all delights;
Nay worſe, excluded from the ſacred Rites.
Here I doe liue mongſt out-lawes markt for death.
As one vnfit to draw the common breath,
Where thoſe who to be good did neuer know,
Are barred from the meanes ſhould make them ſo▪
I ſuffer, cauſe I wiſh'd my Country well,
And what I more muſt beare I cannot tell.
I'me ſure they giuegive my Body little ſcope,
And would allow my Minde as little Hope:
I waſte my Meanes, which of it ſelfe is ſlender,
Conſume my Time (perhaps my fortunes hinder)
And many Croſſes hauehave, which thoſe that can
Conceiue no wrong that hurts another man,
Will not take note of; though if halfe ſo much
Should light on them, or their owne perſon touch,
Some that themſelues (I feare) moſt worthy thinke,
With all their helpes would into baſeneſſe ſhrinke.
But, ſpight of Hate, and all that Spight can do,
I can be patient yet, and merry to.
That ſlender Muſe of mine, by which my Name,
Though ſcarſe deſeru'd, hath gain'd a little fame,
Hath made mee vntounto ſuch a Fortune borne,
That all misfortunes I know how to ſcorne;
Yea, midſt theſe bands can ſleight the Great'st that bee,
As much as their diſdaine miſteemes of mee.
This Caue, whoſe very preſence ſome affrights,
I hauehave oft made to Eccho forth delights,
And hope to turne, if any Iuſtice be,
Both ſhame and care on thoſe that wiſh'd it me.
For while the World rancke villanies affords,
I will not ſpare to paint them out in words;
Although I ſtill ſhould into troubles runne,
I knew what man could act, ere I begun;
And I'le fulfill what my Muſe drawes mee to,
Maugre all Iayles, and Purgatories to.
For whil'ſt ſhee ſets mee honeſt task's about,
Vertue, or ſhee, (I know) will beare mee out:
And if, by Fate, th'abuſed power of ſome
Muſt, in the worlds-eye, leaue mee ouercome,
They ſhall find one Fort yet. ſo fenc'd I trow,
It cannot feare a Mortals ouer-throw.
This Hope, and Truſt, that great power did infuſe,
That firſt inſpir'd into my breſt a Muſe,
By whom I doe, and euer will contemne
All thoſe ill haps, my foes deſpight, and them.
Alexis.
Th'haſt ſo well (yong Philaret) plaid thy part,
I am almoſt in louelove with that ſweet Art:
And if ſome power will but inſpire my ſong,
Alexis will not be obſcured long.
Philarete.
Enough kinde Paſtor: But oh! yonder ſee
Two honeſt Shepheards walking hither, bee
Cuddy and Willy, that ſo dearely louelove,
Who are repairing vntounto yonder Groue:
Let's follow them: for neuer brauer Swaines
Made muſicke to their flocks vponupon theſe Plaines.
They are more worthy, and can better tell
What rare contents doe with a Poet dwell.
Then whiles our ſheepe the ſhort ſweet graſſe do ſheare
And till the long ſhade of the hils appeare,
Wee'le heare them ſing: for though the one be young,
Neuer was any that more ſweetly ſung.