  Argument.
NEATHERD.E Unica scorned me, when her I would have sweetly kist And railing at me said, "Go with a mischief, where thou list! Thinkest thou, a wretched Neatherd, me to kiss! I have no will After the country guise to smouch! Of city lips I skill! My lovely mouth, so much as in thy dream, thou shalt not touch! How dost thou look! How dost thou talk! How play'st thou the slouch! How daintily thou speak'st! What Courting words thou bringest out! How soft a beard thou hast! How fair thy locks hang round about! Thy lips are like a sick man's lips! thy hands, so black they be! And rankly thou dost smell! Away, lest thou defilest me!" Having thus said, she spattered on her bosom twice or thrice; And, still beholding me from top to toe in scornful wise, She muttered with her lips; and with her eyes she looked aside, And of her beauty wondrous coy she was; her mouth she wryed, And proudly mocked me to my face. My blood boiled in each vein, And red I wox for grief as doth the rose with dewy rain. Thus leaving me, away she flang! Since when, it vexeth me That I should be so scorned of such a filthy drab as She. "Ye shepherds, tell me true, am not I as fair as any swan? Hath of a sudden any god made me another man? For well I wot, before a comely grace in me did shine, Like ivy round about a tree, and decked this beard of mine. My crispÈd locks, like parsley, on my temples wont to spread; And on my eyebrows black a milk white forehead glisterÈd: More seemly were mine eyes than are Minerva's eyes, I know. My mouth for sweetness passÈd cheese; and from my mouth did flow A voice more sweet than honeycombs. Sweet is my Roundelay When on the whistle, flute, or pipe, or cornet I do play. And all the women on our hills do say that I am fair, And all do love me well: but these that breathe the city air Did never love me yet. And why? The cause is this I know. That I a Neatherd am. They hear not how in vales below, Fair Bacchus kept a herd of beasts. Nor can these nice ones tell How Venus, raving for a Neatherd's love, with him did dwell Upon the hills of Phrygia; and how she loved again Adonis in the woods, and mourned in woods when he was slain. Who was Endymion? Was he not a Neatherd? Yet the Moon Did love this Neatherd so, that, from the heavens descending soon, She came to Latmos grove where with the dainty lad she lay. And Rhea, thou a Neatherd dost bewail! and thou, all day, O mighty Jupiter! but for a shepherd's boy didst stray! Eunica only, deigned not a Neatherd for to love: Better, forsooth, than Cybel, Venus, or the Moon above! And Venus, thou hereafter must not love thy fair Adone In city, nor on hill! but all the night must sleep alone!" Emblem. Habitarunt Dii quoque sylvas. |
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