The primrose drop, the spring's own spouse, Third Nymph. Drop, drop, you violets; change your hues, As when you lived unto the smell: That from your odour all may say, XCV. EARINE. The first scene of The Sad Shepherd, a pastoral drama introducing Robin Hood. It appears to have been left unfinished at the poet's death, and was published as a fragment in the folio of 1641. Eglamour speaks. ERE she was wont to go! and here! and here! HE Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow: And where she went, the flowers took thickest root, XCVI. ÆGLAMOUR'S LAMENT. From The Sad Shepherd, Act i. Sc. 2. T will be rare, rare, rare! An exquisite revenge! but peace, no words! Not for the fairest fleece of all the flock: If it be known afore, 't is all worth nothing! And never thaw! mark, never! a sharp justice! To set it all on fire till it burn Blue as Scamander, 'fore the walls of Troy, Æg. Do you not approve it? Rob. Yes, gentle Æglamour, we all approve, And come to gratulate your just revenge: Which, since it is so perfect, we now hope You'll leave all care thereof, and mix with us, In all the proffer'd solace of the spring. Eg. A spring, now she is dead! of what? of thorns, Briars and brambles? thistles, burs and docks? Cold hemlock, yew? the mandrake, or the box? These may grow still; but what can spring beside? Did not the whole earth sicken when she died? As if there since did fall one drop of dew Who had her very being and her name,1 That swell'd proud Trent, shrunk themselves dry? that since No sun or moon or other cheerful star, Look'd out of heaven, but all the cope was dark, As it were hung so for her exequies! And not a voice or sound to ring her knell; But of that dismal pair, the screeching-owl, And buzzing hornet! Hark! hark! hark! the foul Peace! you shall hear her screech. Clarion. Good Karolin, sing, Help to divert this fantasy. Kar. All I can. Though I am young and cannot tell 1 her name: Earine is derived from the Greek čap, spring. And then again, I have been told, As in a ruin we it call One thing to be blown up or fall; Æg. Do you think so? are you in that good heresy, I mean, opinion? if you be, say nothing. I'll study it as a new philosophy, But by myself alone: now you shall leave me. For every line here, one; I would allow them From mine own store, the treasure I had in her: XCVII. KAROL'S KISS. From The Sad Shepherd, Act ii. Sc. 2. Amie speaks. Karol, Karol! call him back again. Lionel. Her thoughts do work upon her in her slumber, And may express some part of her disease. Robin. Observe, and mark, but trouble not her ease. Amie. Oh, oh! Marian. How is it, Amie? Mellifleur. Wherefore start you? Amie. O Karol! he is fair and sweet. Maud. What then? Are there not flowers as sweet and fair as men? The lily is fair, and rose is sweet. Amie. Ay, so! Let all the roses and the lilies go: Karol is only fair to me. Mar. And why? Amie. Alas, for Karol, Marian, I could die! Karol, he singeth sweetly too. Maud. What then? Are there not birds sing sweeter far than men? Amie. I grant the linnet, lark, and bull-finch sing, But best the dear good angel of the spring, The nightingale. Maud. Then why, then why, alone, Should his notes please you? Amie. I not long agone Took a delight with wanton kids to play, And now I wish that very kiss again. His lip is softer, sweeter than the rose, His mouth and tongue with dropping honey flows; The relish of it was a pleasing thing. Maud. Yet, like the bees, it had a little sting. |