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N this fyrst Eglogue Colin cloute a shepIN heardes boy complaineth him of his vnfortunate loue, being but newly (as semeth) enamoured of a countrie lasse called Rosalinde: with which strong affection being very sore traueled, he compareth his carefull case to the sadde season of the yeare, to the frostie ground, to the frosen trees, and to his owne winterbeaten flocke. And lastlye, fynding himselfe robbed of all former pleasaunce and delights, hee breaketh his Pipe in peeces, and casteth him selfe to the ground.
All as the Sheepe, such was the shepeheards looke,
May seeme he lovd, or els some care he tooke: For pale and wanne he was, (alas the while,) Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his stile. Tho to a hill his faynting flocke he ledde, II And thus him playnd, the while his shepe there
when Winters wastful spight was almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight: Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted
Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight. And now is come thy wynters stormy state, Thy mantle mard, wherein thou maskedst late.
Yet all for naught: such sight hath bred my bane.
Ah God, that loue should breede both ioy and
It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine,
I loue thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue ?)
And of my rurall musick holdeth scorne.
Colins Embleme. Anchora speme.
singular good freend, M. Gabriel Haruey: as also of some other his most graue and excellent wrytings. Sythe) time. Neighbour towne) the next towne : expressing the Latine Vicina. Stoure) a fitt. Sere) withered. His clownish gyfts) imitateth Virgils verse, Rusticus es Corydon, nec munera curat Alexis. Hobbinol) is a faíned country name, whereby, it being so commune and vsuall, seemeth to be hidden the person of some his very speciall and most familiar freend, whom he entirely and extraordinarily beloued, as peraduenture shall be more largely declared hereafter. In thys place seemeth to be some sauour of disorderly loue, which the learned call pæderastice: but it is
gathered beside his meaning. For who that hath red Plato his dialogue called Alcybiades, Xenophon and Maximus Tyrius of Socrates opinions, may easily perceiue, that such loue is muche to be alowed and liked of, specially so meant, as Socrates vsed it: who sayth, that in deede he loued Alcybiades extremely, yet not Alcybiades person, but hys soule, which is Alcybiades owne selfe. And so is pæderastice much to be præferred before gynerastice, that is the loue whiche enflameth men with lust toward woman kind. But yet let no man thinke, that herein I stand with Lucian or hys deuelish disciple Vnico Aretino, in defence of execrable and horrible sinnes of forbidden and vnlawful fleshlinesse. Whose abominable errour is fully confuted of Perionius, and others.
I loue) a prety Epanorthosis in these two verses, and withall a Paronomasia or playing with the word, where he sayth (1 loue thilke lasse (alas &c. Rosalinde) is also a feigned name, which being wel ordered, wil bewray the very name of hys
loue and mistresse, whom by that name he coloureth. So as Ouide shadoweth hys loue vnder the name of Corynna, which of some is supposed to be Iulia, themperor Augustus his daughter, and wyfe to Agryppa. So doth Aruntius Stella euery where call his Lady Asteris and Ianthis, albe it is wel knowen that her right name was Violantilla: as witnesseth Statius in his Epithalamium. And so the famous Paragone of Italy, Madonna Coelia in her letters eñuelopeth her selfe vnder the name of Zima: and Petrona vnder the name of Bellochia. And this generally hath bene a common_custome of counterfeicting the names of secret Personages. Auail) bring downe.
H for pittie, wil rancke Winters rage, These bitter blasts neuer ginne tasswage? The kene cold blowes through my beaten hyde, All as I were through the body gryde. My ragged rontes all shiver and shake, As doen high Towers in an earthquake: They wont in the wind wagge their wrigle tailes, Perke as Peacock: but nowe it auales. THENOT.
Lewdly complainest thou laesie ladde, Of Winters wracke, for making thee sadde. 10 Must not the world wend in his commun course From good to badd, and from badde to worse, From worse vnto that is worst of all, And then returne to his former fall? Who will not suffer the stormy time, Where will he liue tyll the lusty prime? Selfe haue I worne out thrise threttie yeares, Some in much ioy, many in many teares : Yet neuer complained of cold nor heate, Of Sommers flame, nor of Winters threat: 20 Ne euer was to Fortune foeman, But gently tooke, that vngently came. And euer my flocke was my chiefe care, Winter or Sommer they mought well fare. CVDDIE.
No marueile Thenot, if thou can beare Cherefully the Winters wrathfull cheare: For Age and Winter accord full nie This chill, that cold, this crooked, that wrye. And as the lowring Wether lookes downe, So semest thou like good fryday to frowne. 30 But my flowring youth is foe to frost, My shippe vnwont in stormes to be tost. THENOT.
The soueraigne of seas he blames in vaine, That once seabeate, will to sea againe. So loytring liue you little heardgroomes, Keeping your beastes in the budded broomes: And when the shining sunne laugheth once, You deemen, the Spring is come attonce. Tho gynne you, fond flyes, the cold to scorne, And crowing in pypes made of greene corne, You thinken to be Lords of the yeare. But eft, when ye count you freed from feare, Comes the breme winter with chamfred browes, Full of wrinckles and frostie furrowes: Drerily shooting his stormy darte, Which cruddles the blood, and pricks the harte. Then is your carelesse corage accoied, Your carefull heards with cold bene annoied. Then paye you the price of your surquedrie, With weeping, and wayling, and misery.
Ah foolish old man, I scorne thy skill, That wouldest me, my springing youngth to spil. I deeme, thy braine emperished bee Through rusty elde, that hath rotted thee: Or sicker thy head veray tottie is,
So on thy corbe shoulder it leanes amisse.
Thou art a fon, of thy loue to boste,
Seest, howe brag yond Bullocke beares, So smirke, so smoothe, his pricked eares His hornes bene as broade, as Rainebowe bent, His dewelap as lythe, as lasse of Kent. See howe he venteth into the wynd. Weenest of loue is not his mynd? Seemeth thy flocke thy counsell can, So lustlesse bene they, so weake so wan, Clothed with cold, and hoary wyth frost. Thy flocks father his corage hath lost: Thy Ewes, that wont to haue blowen bags, Like wailefull widdowes hangen their crags: The rather Lambes bene starued with cold, All for their Maister is lustlesse and old.
Many meete tales of youth did he make, And some of loue, and some of cheualrie: But none fitter then this to applie. Now listen a while, and hearken the end.
Here grewe an aged Tree on the greene, A goodly Oake sometime had it bene, With armes full strong and largely displayd, But of their leaues they were disarayde: The bodie bigge, and mightely pight, Throughly rooted, and of wonderous hight: Whilome had bene the King of the field, And mochell mast to the husband did yielde, And with his nuts larded many swine. But now the gray mosse marred his rine, His bared boughes were beaten with stormes, His toppe was bald, and wasted with wormes, His honor decayed, his braunches sere.
Hard by his side grewe a bragging brere,
And in his small bushes vsed to shrowde
Nor for fruict, nor for shadowe serues thy stocke:
Yt chaunced after vpon a day,
Pleaseth you ponder your Suppliants plaint,
Greatly aghast with this piteous plea, Him rested the goodman on the lea, And badde the Brere in his plaint proceede. With painted words tho gan this proude weede, (As most vsen Ambitious folke :) 161
His colowred crime with craft to cloke.
Ah my soueraigne, Lord of creatures all,
Hindering with his shade my louely light,