C

From The Orpharion, licensed in 1589.

LOVE'S TREACHERY.

UPID abroad was lated in the night,

His wings were wet with ranging in the rain ; Harbour he sought, to me he took his flight, To dry his plumes: I heard the boy complain; I oped the door, and granted his desire, I rose myself, and made the wag a fire.

Looking more narrow by the fire's flame,
I spied his quiver hanging by his back:
Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame,
I would have gone for fear of further wrack;
But what I drad, did me poor wretch betide,
For forth he drew an arrow from his side.

He pierced the quick, and I began to start,

A pleasing wound, but that it was too high; His shaft procured a sharp, yet sugared smart :

2

Away he flew, for why 2 his wings were dry ;

But left the arrow sticking in my breast,

That sore I grieved I welcomed such a guest.

1 These verses (after Anacreon), with some textual variations, are also found in Greene's Alcida, licensed in 1588.

2 "For why"= because.

From The Mourning Garment, 1590.

THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE'S SONG.

AH, what is love? It is a pretty thing,

As sweet unto a shepherd as a king;
And sweeter too,

For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,
And cares can make the sweetest love to frown:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

His flocks are folded, he comes home at night,
As merry as a king in his delight;

And merrier too,

For kings bethink them what the state require,
Where shepherds careless carol by the fire:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat
His cream and curds as doth the king his meat;
And blither too,

For kings have often fears when they do sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

To bed he goes, as wanton then, I ween,
As is a king in dalliance with a queen ;
More wanton too,

For kings have many griefs affects to move,
Where shepherds have no greater grief than love :
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound,
As doth the king upon his beds of down;
More sounder too,

For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Thus with his wife he spends the year, as blithe As doth the king at every tide or sithe; 1

And blither too,

For kings have wars and broils to take in hand,
Where shepherds laugh and love upon the land :
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

1 Time.

From Never too Late, 1590.

N'OSEREZ VOUS, MON BEL AMI?

WEET Adon, darest not glance thine eye

SWE

N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?—

Upon thy Venus that must die?

Je vous en prie, pity me; N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, Noserez vous, mon bel ami?

See how sad thy Venus lies,-
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?-
Love in heart, and tears in eyes;
Je vous en prie, pity me;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

Thy face as fair as Paphos' brooks,-
Noserez vous, mon bel ami ?—
Wherein fancy baits her hooks;
Je vous en prie, pity ine;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

Thy cheeks like cherries that do grow
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?—
Amongst the western mounts of snow;
Je vous en prie, pity me ;

N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,

N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

Thy lips vermilion, full of love,—
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?—
Thy neck as silver-white as dove ;
Je vous en prie, pity me;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

Thine eyes, like flames of holy fires,-
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?—
Burn all my thoughts with sweet desires;
Je vous en prie, pity me ;
N'oserez vous mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

All thy beauties sting my heart ;—
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?—
I must die through Cupid's dart ;
Je vous en prie, pity me;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon, bel
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

Wilt thou let thy Venus die?—-
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?—
Adon were unkind, say I,—

Je vous en prie, pity me;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?

To let fair Venus die for woe-
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ?-
That doth love sweet Adon so;
Je vous en prie, pity me;
N'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel,
N'oserez vous, mon bel ami?