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Meanwhile my sighs yield truce unto my tears,
By them the winds increased and fiercely
blow;
Yet when I sigh, the flame more plain appears,
And by their force with greater power doth glow.
Amidst these pains all Phoenix-like I thrive,
Since Love that yields me death may life
reWIWe.
Rosader, en esperance."

“Now surely, forester,” quoth Aliena, "when thou madest this sonnet, thou wert in Some amorous quandary, neither too fearful, as despairing of thy mistress' favours, nor too geesome, as hoping in thy fortunes.” “I can smile,” quoth Ganimede, “at the sonettoes, Canzones, madrigals, rounds and roundelays, that these pensive patients pour out, when their eyes are more full of wantonness than their hearts of passions. Then, as the fishers put the sweetest bait to the fairest fish, so these Ovidians,' holding Amo in their tongues, When their thoughts come at haphazard, write that they be wrapped in an endless labyrinth of Sorrow, when, walking in the large lease of liberty, they only have their humours in their inkpot. If they find women so fond,” that they will with such painted lures come to their lust, then they triumph till they be full gorged with pleasures; and then fly they away, like ramage kites, to their own content, leaving the tame fool, their mistress, full of fancy, yet without ever a feather. If they miss (as dealing with Some wary wanton, that wants not such a one as themselves, but spies their subtilty), they end their amours with a few feigned sighs; and so their excuse is, their mistress is cruel, and they Smother passions with patience. Such, gentle forester, we may deem you to be, that rather Pas away the time here in these woods with Wnting amorets, than to be deeply enamoured, as you say, of your Rosalynde. If you be such * One, then I pray God, when you think your tortunes at the highest, and your desires to be most excellent, then that you may with Ixion ‘mbrace Juno in a cloud, and have nothing on a marble mistress to release your martyr. *; but if you be true and trusty, eye-pained ind heart-sick, then accursed be Rosalynde if she prove cruel; for, forester, (I flatter not) to art worthy of as fair as 'she.” Aliena, Pying the storm by the wind, smiled to see how Ganimede flew to the fist without any ‘"; but Rosader, who took him flat for a *pherd's swain, made him this answer.

'devotees of Ovid's Art of Love 2 foolish

“Trust me, swain,” quoth Rosader, “but my canzon' was written in no such humour; for mine eye and my heart are relatives, the one drawing fancy” by sight, the other entertaining her by sorrow. If thou sawest my Rosalynde, with what beauties Nature hath favoured her, with what perfection the heavens hath graced her, with what qualities the Gods have endued her, then wouldst thou say, there is none so fickle that could be fleeting unto her. If she had been Æneas' Dido, had Venus and o both scolded him from Carthage, yet er excellence, despite of them, would have detained him at Tyre. If Phyllis had been as beauteous, or Ariadne as virtuous, or both as honourable and excellent as she, neither had the philbert tree sorrowed in the death of despairing Phyllis, nor the stars have been graced with Ariadne, but Demophon and Theseus had been trusty to their paragons. I will tell thee, swain, if with a deep insight thou couldst pierce into the secret of my loves, and see what deep impressions of her idea affection hath made in my heart, then wouldst thou confess I were passing passionate, and no less endued with admirable patience.” “Why,” quoth Aliena, “needs there patience in Love?” “Or else in nothing,” quoth Rosader; “for it is a restless sore that hath no ease, a canker that still frets, a disease that taketh away all hope of sleep. If, then, so many sorrows, sudden joys, momentary pleasures, continual fears, daily griefs, and nightly woes be found in love, then is not he to be accounted patient, that smothers all these passions with silence?” “Thou speakest by experience,” quoth Ganimede, “and therefore we hold all thy words for axioms. But is love, such a lingering malady?” “It is,” quoth he, “either extreme or mean, according to the mind of the party that entertains it; for as the weeds grow longer untouched than the pretty flowers, and the flint lies safe in the quarry, when the emerald is suffering the lapidary's tool, so mean men are freed from Venus' injuries, when kings are environed with a labyrinth of her cares. The whiter the lawn is the deeper is the mole, the more purer the chrysolite the sooner stained; and such as have, their hearts full of honour, have their loves full of the greatest sorrows. But in whomsoever,” quoth Rosader, “he fixeth his dart, he never leaveth to assault him, till either he hath won him to folly or fancy; for as the moon never goes without the star Lunisequa,” so a lover never goeth without the unrest

* a kind of song * love *Moon-follower

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Turn I my looks unto the skies,
Love with his arrows wounds mine eyes;
If so I gaze upon the ground,
Love then in every flower is found;
Search I the shade to fly my pain,
He meets me in the shade again;
Wend I to walk in secret grove,
Even there I meet with sacred Love;
If so I bain' me in the spring,
Even on the brink I hear him sing;
If so I meditate alone,
He will be partner of my moan;
If so I mourn, he weeps with me;
And where I am, there will he be.
Whenas I talk of Rosalynde,
The God from coyness waxeth kind,
And seems in selfsame flames to fry,
Because he loves as well as I.
Sweet Rosalynde, for pity rue,
For-why” than Love I am more true;
He, if he speed" will quickly fly,
But in thy love I live and die.

“How like you this sonnet?” quoth Rosader. “Marry,” quoth Ganimede, “for the pen well, for the passion ill; for, as I praise the one, I pity the other, in that thou shouldest hunt after a cloud, and love either without reward or regard.” “”Tis not her frowardness,” quoth Rosader, “but my hard fortunes, whose destinies have crossed me with her absence; for did she feel my loves, she would not let me linger in these sorrows. Women, as they are fair, so they respect faith, and estimate more, if they be honourable, the will than the wealth, having loyalty the object whereat they aim their fancies. But, leaving off these interparleys, you shall hear my last sonetto, and then you have heard all my poetry.” And with that he sighed out this:

ROSADER’s THIRD SONNET

Of virtuous love myself may boast alone, Since no suspect my service may attaint; For perfect fair “she is the only one, Whom I esteem for my beloved Saint. Thus for my faith I only bear the bell," And for her fair “she only doth excell.

* bathe * because * succeed “beauty "excel all

Then let fond " Petrarch shroud” his Laura's
praise,
And Tasso cease to publish his affect,”
Since mine the faith confirmed at all assays,
And hers the fair" which all men do respect.
My lines her fair, her fair my faith assures;
Thus I by Love, and Love by me endures.

“Thus,” quoth Rosader, “here is an end of my poems, but for all this no release of my passions; so that I resemble him that in the depth of his distress hath none but the Echo to answer him.” Ganimede, pitying her Rosader, thinking to drive him out of this amorous melancholy, said that “Now the sun was in his meridional heat, and that it was high noon, therefore we shepherds say, 'tis time to go to dinner: for the sun and our stomachs, are shepherd's dials. Therefore, forester, if thou wilt take such fare as comes out of our homely scrips, welcome shall answer whatsoever thou wantest in delicates.” Aliena took the entertainment by the end, and told Rosader he should be her guest. He thanked them heartily, and sat with them down to dinner: where they had such cates * as country state did allow them, sauced with such content and such sweet prattle as it seemed far more sweet than all their courtly junkets."

As soon as they had taken their repast, Rosader giving them thanks for his good cheer, would have been gone; but Ganimede, that was loath to let him pass out of her presence, began thus: “Nay, forester,” quoth he, “if thy business be not the greater, seeing thou sayest thou art so deeply in love, let me see how thou canst woo. I will represent Rosalynde, and thou shalt be, as thou art, Rosader. See in some amorous Eglogue, how if Rosalynde were present, how thou couldst court her; and while we sing of love, Aliena shall tune her pipe, and play us melody.” “Content,” quoth Rosader. And Aliena, she to show her willingness, drew forth a recorder, and began to wind' it. Then the loving forester began thus:

THE WoolNo EGLOGUE BEtwixt Rosalyn DE AND ROSADER

Rosader I pray thee, Nymph, by all the working words, By all the tears and sighs that lovers know, Or what or thoughts or faltering tongue affords, I crave for mine in ripping up my woe.

1 foolish * delicacies

* cover up "love * cakes

7 blow

* beauty

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so Rosalynde, my love (would God my ove!), My life (would God my life!), ay pity me; Thy lips are kind, and humble like the dove, And but with beauty pity will not be. Look on mine eyes, made red with rueful tears, From whence the rain of true remorse descendeth, All pale in looks, and I though young in years, And nought but love or death my days befriendeth. Oh, let no stormy rigour knit thy brows, Which Love appointed for his mercy-seat! The tallest tree by Boreas' breath it bows, The iron yields with hammer, and to heat; 0 Rosalynde, then be thou pitiful; For Rosalynde is only beautiful.

Rosalynde

Love's wantons arm their trait'rous suits with
tears,
With vows, with oaths, with looks, with
showers of gold;
But when the fruit of their affects' appears,
The simple heart by subtil sleights is sold.
Thus sucks the yielding ear the poisoned bait,
Thus feeds the heart upon his endless harms,
Thus glut the thoughts themselves on self-
deceit,
Thusblind the eyes their sight by subtil charms.
The lovely looks, the sighs that storm so sore,
The dew of deep dissembled doubleness, -
These may attempt, but are of power no more,
Where beauty leans to wit and soothfastness.”
9 Rosader, then be thou wittiful;
For Rosalynde scorns foolish pitiful.

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Oh, leave to arm thy lovely brows with scorn!
The birds their beak, the lion hath his tail;
And lovers nought but sighs and bitter mourn,"
The spotless fort of fancy” to assail.
O Rosalynde, then be thou pitiful;
For Rosalynde is only beautiful.

Rosalynde The hardened steel by fire is brought in frame:

Rosader

And Rosalynde my love than any wool more softer; And shall not sighs her tender heart enflame?

Rosalynde

Were lovers true, maids would believe them ofter.

Rosader

Truth and regard and honour guide my love!

Rosalynde Fain would I trust, but yet I dare not try.

Rosader Oh, pity me, sweet Nymph, and do but prove.

Rosalynde I would resist, but yet I know not why.

Rosader

O Rosalynde, be kind, for times will change; Thy looks aye nillo be fair as now they be,

Thine age from beauty may thy looks estrange: Ah, yield in time, sweet Nymph, and pity me.

Rosalynde

O Rosalynde, thou must be pitiful; For Rosader is young and beautiful.

Rosader

Oh, gain more great than kingdoms or a crown!

Rosalynde

Oh, trust betrayed if Rosader abuse me!

mourning * *love * will not

Rosader

First let the heavens conspire to pull me down,
And heaven and earth as abject quite refuse
me;
Let sorrows stream about my hateful bower,
And restless horror hatch within my breast;
Let beauty's eye afflict me with a lour;
Let deep despair pursue me without rest;
Ere Rosalynde my loyalty disprove,
Ere Rosalynde accuse me for unkind.

Rosalynde

Then Rosalynde will grace thee with her love, Then Rosalynde will have thee still in mind.

Rosader

Then let me triumph more than Tithon's
dear,
Since Rosalynde will Rosader respect:
Then let my face exile his sorry cheer,
And frolic in the comfort of affect;"
And say that Rosalynde is only pitiful,
Since Rosalynde is only beautiful.

When thus they had finished their courting eglogue in such a familiar clause,” Ganimede as augur of some good fortunes to light upon their affections, began to be thus pleasant: “How now, forester, have I not fitted your turn? Have I not played the woman handsomely, and showed myself as coy in grants, as courteous in desires, and been as full of suspicion as men of flattery? And yet to salve all, jumped” I not all up with the sweet union of love? Did not Rosalynde content her Rosader?” The forester at this smiling, shook his head, and folding his arms made this merry reply:

“Truth, gentle swain, Rosader hath his Rosalynde; but as Ixion had Juno, who, thinking to possess a goddess, only embraced a cloud. In these imaginary fruitions of fancy, I resemble the birds that fed themselves with Zeuxis' painted grapes; but they grew so lean with pecking at shadows that they were glad with AEsop's cock to scrape for a barley cornel; “ so fareth it with me, who to feed myself with the hope of my mistress' favours, soothe myself in thy suits, and only in conceit reap a wished-for content. But if my food be no better than such amorous dreams, Venus at the year's end shall find me but a lean lover. Yet do I take these follies for high fortunes, and hope these feigned affections do divine some unfeigned end of ensuing fancies.” “And thereupon,” quoth

* love * expression * closed " kernel

Aliena, “I’ll play the priest. From this day forth Ganimede shall call thee husband, and thou shalt call Ganimede wife, and so we'll have a marriage.” “Content,” quoth Rosader, and laughed. “Content,” quoth Ganimede, and changed as red as a rose. And so with a smile and a blush they made up this jesting match, that after proved to a marriage in earnest; Rosader full little thinking he had wooed and won his Rosalynde. . . .

ROBERT GREENE (1560?–1592)

From A GROAT'S WORTH OF WIT, BOUGHT WITH A MILLION OF REPENTANCE

On the other side of the hedge sat one that heard his sorrow, who getting over, came towards him, and brake off his passion. When he approached, he saluted Roberto in this sort.

“Gentleman,” quoth he, “(for so you seem) I have by chance heard you discourse some part of your grief; which appeareth to be more than you will discover, or I can conceit." But if you vouchsafe” such simple comfort as my ability will yield, assure yourself that I will endeavour to do the best, that either may procure your profit, or bring you pleasure: the rather, for that I suppose you are a scholar, and pity it is men of learning should live in lack.”

Roberto wondering to hear such good words, for that this iron age affords few that esteem of virtue, returned him thankful gratulations, and (urged by necessity) uttered his present grief, beseeching his advice how he might be employed. “Why, easily,” quoth he, “and greatly to your benefit: for men of my profes. sion get by scholars their whole living.” “What is your profession?” said Roberto. “Truly, sir,” said he, “I am a player.” “A player,” quoth Roberto, “I took you rather for a gentleman of great living, for if by outward habit men should be censured, I tell you you would be taken for a substantial man.” “Soam I, where I dwell (quoth the player), reputed able at my proper cost to build a windmill. What though the world once went hard with me, when I was fain to carry my playing fardel a footback; Tempora mutantur,” I know you know the meaning of it better than I, but I thus construe it; it is otherwise now; for my very share in playing apparel will not be sold for two hundred pounds.” “Truly (said Roberto) it is

* conceive * condescend to accept *times change

strange, that you should so prosper in that vain practice, for that it seems to me your voice is nothing gracious.” “Nay then,” said the player, “I mislike your judgment: why, I am as famous for Delphrigus, and the King of Fairies, as ever was any of my time. The Twelve Labours of Hercules have I terribly thundered on the stage, and placed three scenes of the Devil on the Highway to Heaven.” “Have ye so? (said Roberto) then I pray you pardon me.” “Nay, more (quoth the player), I can serve to make a pretty speech, for I was a country author; passing at a moral, for it was I that penned the Moral of Man's Wit, the Dialogue of Dives, and for seven years space was absolute interpreter of the puppets. But now my almanac is out of date.

The people make no estimation, Of Morals teaching education.

Was not this pretty for a plain rhyme extempore? if ye will, ye shall have more.” “Nay it is enough,” said Roberto, “but how mean you to use me?” “Why sir, in making plays,” said the other, “for which you shall be well paid, if you will take the pains.” Roberto perceiving no remedy, thought best in respect of his present necessity, to try his wit, and went with him willingly: who lodged him at the town's end in a house of retail, where what happened our poet you shall hereafter hear. There, by conversing with bad company, he grew A malo in peius, falling from one vice to another, and so having found a vein” to finger crowns he grew cranker “than Lucanio, who by this time began to droop, being thus dealt withal by Lamilia. She having bewitched him with her enticing wiles, caused him to consume, in less than two years, that infinite treasure gathered by his father with so many a poor man's curse. His lands sold, his jewels pawned, his money wasted, he was cashiered by Lamilia that had cozened him of all. Then walked he, like one of Duke Humfrey's squires, in a threadbare cloak, his hose drawn out with his heels, his shoes unseamed, lest his feet should sweat with heat: now (as withess as he was) he remembered his father's words, his kindness to his brother, his carelessness of himself. In this sorrow he sat down on penniless bench; where, when Opus and Usus" told him by the chimes in his stomach it was time to fall unto meat, he was fain with the

Morality Play 2 from bad to worse * inclination * worse "need and custom

camelion to feed upon the air, and make patience his best repast. While he was at his feast, Lamilia came flaunting by, garnished with the jewels whereof she beguiled him: which sight served to close his stomach after his cold cheer. Roberto, hearing of his brother's beggery, albeit he had little remorse' of his miserable state, yet did he seek him out, to use him as a property,’ whereby Lucanio was somewhat provided for. But being of simple nature, he served but for a block to whet Roberto's wit on; which the poor fool perceiving, he forsook all other hopes of life, and fell to be a notorious pandar: in which detested course he continued till death. But, Roberto, now famoused for an arch playmaking poet, his purse like the sea sometime swelled, anon like the same sea fell to a low ebb; yet seldom he wanted, his labours were so well esteemed. Marry, this rule he kept, whatever he fingered aforehand was the certain means to unbind a bargain, and, being asked why he so slightly dealt with them that did him good, “It becomes me,” saith he, “to be contrary to the world, for commonly when vulgar men receive earnest, they do perform, when I am paid anything aforehand I break my promise.” He had shift of lodgings, where in every place his hostess writ up the woeful remembrance of him, his laundress, and his boy; for they were ever his in household, beside retainers in sundry other places. His company were lightly” the lewdest persons in the land, apt for pilefrey, perjury, forgery, or any villany. Of these he knew the casts to cog “at cards, cozen at dice: by these he learned the legerdemains of nips, foisters, cony-catchers, crossbiters, lifts, high lawyers," and all the rabble of that unclean generation of vipers: and pithily could he paint out their whole courses of craft: So cunning he was in all crafts, as nothing rested in him almost but craftiness. How often the gentlewoman his wife laboured vainly to recall him, is lamentable to note: but as one given over to all lewdness, he communicated her sorrowful lines among his loose trulls, that jested at her bootless laments. If he could any way get credit on scores, he would then brag his creditors carried stones, comparing every round circle to a groaning O, procured by a painful burden. The shameful end of sundry his consorts," deservedly punished for their amiss," wrought

1 pity 2 tool • easily “cheat "different kinds of pickpockets and thieves * companions 7 crime

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