saith, he will not compare her to them, for feare of misfortune.

Now rise, is the conclusion. For, having so decked her with prayses and comparisons, he returneth all the thanke of his labour to the excellencie of her Maiestie.

When damsins, A base reward of a clownish giver.
Yolent, Y, is a poeticall addition, blent, blinded.

EMBLEME.

This poesie is taken out of Virgil, and there of him used in the person of Aeneas to his mother Venus, appearing to

him in likenes of one of Dianaes damosels; being there most divinely set forth. To which similitude of divinity Hobbinoll comparing the excellencie of Elisa, and being through the worthinesse of Colins song, as it were, overcome with the hugenesse of his imagination, bursteth out in great admiration, (0 quam te memorem virgo!) being otherwise unable, then by sudden silence, to expresse the worthinesse of his conceite. Whom Thenot answereth with another part of the like verse, as confirming by his grant and approvance, that Elisa is no whit inferiour to the Maiestie of her, of whom the poet so boldly pronounced, O dea certe.

PALINODE. PIERS.

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Pal. Is not thilke the mery moneth of May, When love-lads masken in fresh aray? How falles it, then, wee no merrier beene, Ylike as others, girt in gawdy greene? Our bloncket liveries bene all to sadde For thilke same season, when all is ycladde With pleasaunce; the ground with grasse, the woods With greene leaves, the bushes with bloosming buds. Youngthes folke now flocken in every where, To gather May-buskets and smelling brere; And home they hasten the postes to dight, And all the kirk-pillours eare day-light, With hawthorne buds, and sweete eglantine, And girlonds of roses, and soppes in wine. Such merimake holy saints doth queme, But wee here sitten as drownde in dreme.

Piers. Perdie, so farre am I from envie, That their fondnesse inly I pitie:

Those faytours little regarden their charge,

While they, letting their sheep runne at large, 40 Passen their time, that should be sparely spent,

In lustihede and wanton meryment.

Thilke same bene shepheardes for the devils stedde,
That playen while their flockes be unfedde:
Well it is seene their sheepe bene not their owne, 45
That letten them runne at randon alone :
But they bene hyred for little pay

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Of other, that caren as little as they,
What fallen the flocke, so they han the fleece,

And get all the gayne, paying but a peece.

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I muse, what account both these will make ; The one for the hire, which he doth take, And th' other for leaving his Lordes taske,

But wee tway bene men of elder witte.

Pal. Sicker this morowe, no lenger agoe,

I sawe a shole of shepheardes outgoe

;

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With singing, and shouting, and iolly chere :
Before them yode a lustie tabrere,
That to the many a horn-pype playd,
Whereto they dauncen eche one with his mayd.
To see those folks make such iovysaunce,
Made my heart after the pype to daunce:
Tho to the greene wood they speeden hem all,
To fetchen home May with their musicall
And home they bringen in a royall throne,
Crowned as king; and his queene attone
Was Lady Flora, on whom did attend
A fayre flocke of faeries, and a fresh bend
Of lovely nymphes. (O that I were there,
To helpen the ladies their Maybush beare !)
Ah! Piers, bene not thy teeth on edge, to thinke 35
How great sport they gaynen with little swinck?

Pal. Sicker, now I see thou speakest of spight, All for thou lackest somdele their delight.

I (as I am) had rather be envied,
All were it of my foe, then fonly pitied;
And yet, if neede were, pitied would be,
Rather then other should scorne at me;
For pittied is mishap that nas remedie,
But scorned bene deedes of fond foolerie.
What shoulden shepheards other things tend,
Then, sith their God his good does them send,
Reapen the fruite thereof, that is pleasure,
The while they here liven at ease and leasure?
For, when they bene dead, their good is ygoe,
They sleepen in rest, well as other moe:
Tho with them wends what they spent in cost,
But what they left behinde them is lost.
Good is no good, but if it be spend ;
God giveth good for none other end.

With them it sits to care for their heire, Enaunter their heritage doe impaire:

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They must provide for meanes of maintenaunce,
And to continue their wont countenaunce:
But shepheard must walke another way,
Sike worldly sovenance he must for-say.
The sonne of his loines why should he regard
To leave enriched with that he hath spard?
Should not thilke God, that gave him that good, 85
Eke cherish his child, if in his waies he stood?
For if he mislive in leudness and lust,
Little bootes all the wealth, and the trust,
That his father left by inheritaunce;

All will be soon wasted with misgovernaunce:
But through this, and other their miscreaunce,
They maken many a wrong chevisaunce,
Heaping up waves of wealth and woe,
The flouds whereof shall them overflow.

The time was once, and may againe retorne, (For ought may happen, that hath been beforne,) When shepheards had none inheritaunce,

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Ne of land nor fee in sufferaunce,
But what might arise of the bare sheepe,
(Were it more or lesse) which they did keepe.
Well ywis was it with shepheards thoe:
Nought having, nought feared they to forgoe;
For Pan himselfe was their inheritaunce,
And little them served for their maintenaunce.
The shepheards God so well them guided,
That of nought they were unprovided;
Butter enough, honny, milke, and whay,
And their flockes fleeces them to araye:
But tract of time, and long prosperitie,
(That nource of vice, this of insolencie,)
Lulled the shepheards in such securitie,
That, not content with loyall obeysaunce,
Some gan to gape for greedie governaunce,
And match them selfe with mightie potentates,
Lovers of lordship, and troublers of states:
Tho gan shepheards swaines to looke aloft,
And leave to live hard, and learne to ligge soft: 125
Tho, under colour of shepheards, somewhile
There crept in wolves, full of fraud and guile,
That often devoured their owne sheepe,
And often the shepheards that did hem keep:
This was the first sourse of shepheards sorow,
That now nill be quitt with baile nor borow.
Pal. Three thinges to heare bene very burdenous,
But the fourth to forbeare is outragious:
Wemen, that of loves longing once lust,
Hardly forbearen, but have it they must:
So when choler is inflamed with rage,
Wanting revenge, is hard to asswage:
And who can counsell a thirstie soule,
With patience to forbeare the offred bowle?
But of all burdens, that a man can beare,
Most is, a fooles talke to beare and to heare.
I weene the geaunt has not such a weight,

Ver. 77. With them it sits] Sits is becomes. TODD. Ver. 92. chevisaunce,] Bargain. T. WARTON. Ver. 123. Lovers of lordship,] Sovereignty. TODD.

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That beares on his shoulders the heavens height. Thou findest fault where nys to be found,

And buildest strong warke upon a weake ground: 145
Thou raylest on right withouten reason,

And blamest hem much for small encheason.
How shoulden shepheardes live, if not so?
What should they pynen in payne and woe?
Nay, say I thereto, by my dear borrowe,
If I may rest, I nill live in sorrowe.

Sorrowe ne neede be hastened on,

For he will come, without calling, anone.
While times enduren of tranquillitie,

Usen we freely our felicitie;

For, when approchen the stormie stowres,

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We mought with our shoulders bear off the sharp showres;

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And, sooth to sayne, nought seemeth sike strife,
That shepheards so witen eche others life,
And layen her faults the worlds beforne,
The while their foes done eache of hem scorne.
Let none mislike of that may not be mended;
So conteck soone by concord mought be ended.
Piers. Shepheard, I list no accordaunce make
With shepheard, that does the right way forsake;
And of the twaine, if choise were to me,
Had lever my foe then my friend he be;
For what concord han light and darke sam?
Or what peace has the lion with the lambe?
Such faitors, when theyr false hearts bene hidde, 170
Will doe as did the Foxe by the Kidde.

Of her young sonne, and wit to beware,
She set her youngling before her knee,
That was both fresh and lovely to see,
And full of favour as Kidde mought be.
His vellet head began to shoote out,
And his wreathed horns gan newly sprout;
The blossomes of lust to bud did beginne,
And spring forth ranckly under his chinne.
"My Sonne," (quoth she, and with that gan weepe;
For carefull thoughtes in her heart did creepe ;)
"God blesse thee, poore Orphane ! as he mought me,
And send thee ioy of thy iollitie.

Thy father," (that worde she spake with payne,
For a sigh had nigh rent her heart in twaine,)
"Thy father, had he lived this day,

To see the braunche of his body displaye,
How would he have ioyed at this sweete sight?
But ah! false Fortune such ioy did him spight,
And cut off his dayes with untimely woe,
Betraying him into the traynes of his foe.
Now I, a wailefull widowe behight,

And interrupted all her other speeche
With some olde sorowe that made a new breache;
Seemed she saw in her younglings face
The old lineaments of his fathers grace.

At last her solein silence she broke,

And gan his new-budded beard to stroke.
"Kiddie, (quoth she) thou kenst the great care
I have of thy health and thy welfare,
Which many wilde beastes liggen in waite
For to entrap in thy tender state:

But most the Foxe, maister of collusion;

For he has vowed thy last confusion.
Forthy, my Kiddie, be rulde by me,
And never give trust to his trecheree ;

And, if he chaunce come when I am abroade,
Sperre the yate fast, for fear of fraude;
Ne for all his worst, nor for his best,

Open the dore at his request.”

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The false Foxe, as he were starke lame:
His tayle he clapt betwixt his legs twayne,
Lest he should be descried by his trayne.

Being within, the Kidde made him good glee,
All for the love of the glasse he did see.
After his chere the pedler can chat,

And tell many leasinges of this and that,
And how he could shew many a fine knack;
Tho shewed his ware and opened his packe,

All save a bell, which he left behinde

In the basket for the Kidde to finde ;

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Home when the doubtfull damme had her hide, She mought see the dore stand open wide;

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So schooled the Gate her wanton sonne, That aunswer'd his mother, All should be done. Tho went the pensive damme out of dore, And chaunst to stomble at the threshold flore; Her stombling steppe somewhat her amazed, (For such, as signes of ill lucke, bene dispraised ;) Yet forth she yode, thereat half agast; And Kiddie the dore sperred after her fast. It was not long, after she was gone, But the false Foxe came to the dore anone; Not as a foxe, for then he had be kend, But all as a poore pedler he did wend, Bearing a trusse of trifles at his backe,

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As bells, and babes, and glasses in his packe:
A biggen he had got about his braine:
For in his headpeace he felt a sore paine:
His hinder heele was wrapt in a clout,
For with great cold he had got the gout:
There at the dore he cast me downe his pack, 245
And layd him downe, and groned, " Alack! alack!
Ah! dear Lord! and sweet Saint Charitee!
That some good body would once pitie mee !"
Well heard Kiddie all this sore constraint,
And lengd to know the cause of his complaint; 250
Tho, creeping close behinde the wickets clinck,
Privily he peeped out through a chinck,
Yet not so privily but the Foxe him spyed;
For deceitfull meaning is double-eyed.
"Ah! good young Maister" (then gan
"Jesus blesse that sweete face I espye,
And keep your corpse from the carefull stounds
That in my carrion carcas abounds."

he crye)

The Kidd, pittying his heavinesse, Asked the cause of his great distresse, And also who, and whence that he were. Tho he, that had well ycond his lere, Thus medled his talke with many a teare: "Sicke, sicke, alas ! and little lacke of dead, But I be relieved by your beastlyhead. I am a poore sheepe, albe my colour donne, For with long travaile I am brent in the sonne; And if that, my grandsire me sayd, be true, Sicker, I am very sybbe to you ;

So be your goodlihead do not disdaine

The base kinred of so simple swaine.

Of mercy and favour then I you pray,
With your ayde to forestall my nere decay."
Tho out of his packe a glasse he tooke,
Wherein while Kiddie unwares did looke,
He was so enamored with the newell,
That nought he deemed deare for the iewell:
Tho opened he the dore, and in came

All agast, lowdly she gan to call

Her Kidde; but he nould aunswere at all:
Tho on the flore she saw the merchandise
Of which her sonne had sette too deere a prise.
What help her Kidde she knew well was gone:
She weeped, and wayled, and made great mone.
Such end had the Kidde, for he nould warned be
Of craft, coloured with simplicitie ;
And such end, perdie, does all hem remayne,
That of such falsers friendship bene fayne.

Pal. Truely, Piers, thou art beside thy wit.
Furthest fro the marke, weening it to hit.
Now, I pray thee, let me thy tale borowe
For our Sir John, to say to-morowe
At the kerke when it is holiday;

For well he meanes, but little can say.
But, and if foxes bene so craftie as so,

Much needeth all shepheards hem to know.

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which calleth himselfe the great and good shepheard. The name is most rightly (methinkes) applied to him; for Pan signifieth all, or omnipotent, which is only the Lord Iesus. And by that name (as I remember) he is called of Eusebius, in his fifth booke De Preparat. Evange. who thereof telleth a proper storie to that purpose. Which storie is first recorded of Plutarch, in his Booke of the ceasing of miracles: and of Lavatere translated, in his booke of walking spirits. Who sayth, that about the same time that our Lorde suffered his most bitter passion, for the redemption of man, certaine persons sayling from Italie to Cyprus, and passing by certaine iles called Paxæ, heard a voyce calling aloud Thamus, Thamus, (now Thamus was the name of an Aegyptian, which was Pylote of the ship,) who, giving eare to the crie, was bidden, when he came to Palodes, to tell that the great Pan was dead: which hee doubting to doe, yet for that when hee came to Palodes, there suddenly was such a calme of winde, that the ship stoode still in the sea unmooved, he was forced to crie aloude, that Pan was dead wherewithall there was heard such piteous outcries, and dreadfull shriking, as hath not beene the like. By which Pan, though of some bee understoode the great Sathanas, whose kingdome was at that time by Christ conquered, the gates of hell broken up, and death by death delivered to eternall death, (for at that time, as hee sayth, all Oracles surceased, and enchaunted spirites, that were woont to delude the people thenceforth held their peace :) and also at the demaund of the Emperor Tiberius, who that Pan should be, answer was made him by the wisest and best learned, that it was the sonne of Mercurie and Penelope: yet I thinke it more properly meant of the death of Christ, the only and verie Pan, then suffering for his flocke.

I as I am, seemeth to imitate the common proverbe, Malim invidere mihi omnes, quàm miserescere.

Nas, is a syncope, for nehas, or has not as nould for would not.

Tho with them, doth imitate the Epitaph of the ryotous king Sardanapalus, which he caused to be written on his tombe in Greeke: which verses be thus translated by Tullie.

"Hæc habui quæ edi, quæque exaturata libido
"Hausit, at illa manent multa ac præclara relicta."

Which may thus be turned into English.

"All that I eat did I ioy, and all that I greedily gorged: "As for those many goodly matters left I for others.

Much like the Epitaph of a good old Earle of Devonshire, which though much more wisedome bewrayeth then Sardanapalus, yet hath a smacke of his sensuall delights and beastlinesse: the rimes be these:

"Ho, ho, who lies here?

"I the good Earle of Devonshire,

"And Mauld my wife that was full deare: "We lived togithir lv. yeare.

"That we spent, we had:
"That we gave, we have:

"That we left, we lost."

Algrind, the name of a shepheard.

Men of the lay, Laymen.

Enaunter, least that.

Sovenance, remembrance.

Miscreance, dispraise, or misbeleefe.

Chevisaunce, sometime of Chaucer used for gaine: sometime of other for spoile, or bootie, or enterprise, and sometime for chiefedome.

Pan himselfe, God, according as is said in Deuteronomie, that, in division of the land of Canaan to the tribe of Levi, no portion of heritage should be allotted, for God himselfe was their inheritance.

Some gan, meant of the pope, and his antechristian prelates, which usurpe a tyrannicall dominion in the Church, and with Peters counterfeit keyes open a wide gate to all wickednesse and insolent government. Nought here spoken, as of purpose to denie fatherly rule and governance as some maliciously of late have done, to the

great unrest and hindrance of the Church,) but to display the pride and disorder of such as, in stead of feeding their sheep, in deed feed of their sheepe. Sourse, wellspring and originall. Borrow, pledge or suretie.

The Geaunt, is the great Atlas, whom the poets feigne to be a huge Giant, that beareth heaven on his shoulders: being in deed a marvellous high mountain in Mauritania, that now is Barbarie, which to mans seeming pearceth the cloudes, and seemeth to touch the heavens. Other thinke, and they not amisse, that this fable was meant of one Atlas king of the same country, who (as the Greekes say) did first finde out the hidden courses of the starres, by an excellent imagination; wherefore the poets feigned, that hee sustained the firmament on his shoulders: Many other coniectures needlesse be tolde hereof.

This tale is much like to that in Aesops fables, but the catastrophe and ende is farre different. By the Kidde may bee understoode the simple sort of the faithfull and true Christians. By his damme Christ, that hath alreadie with carefull watch-words (as here doth the Gote) warned her little ones, to beware of such doubling deceit. By the Fox, the false and faithlesse Papists, to whom is no credit to be given, nor felowship to be used.

The Gate, the Gote: Northrenly spoken, to turne O into A.

Yode, went: aforesaid.

Shee set, a figure called Fictio, which useth to attribute reasonable actions and speaches to unreasonable creatures. The blossomes of lust, be the yong and mossie haires, which then beginne to sprout and shoote forth, when lustfull heat beginneth to kindle.

And with, a very poeticall pathos.

Orphane, a yongling or pupill, that needeth a tutor or governour.

That word, a patheticall parenthesis, to encrease a carefull hyperbaton.

The braunch, of the fathers bodie, is the childe. For even so, alluded to the saying of Andromache to Ascanius in Virgil.

"Sic oculos, sic ille manus, sic ora ferebat."

A thrilling throb, a pearcing sigh.
Liggen, lie.

Maister of collusion, s. coloured guile, because the Foxe, of all beasts, is most wilie and craftie.

Sparre the yate, shut the doore.

For such, the Gotes stumbling is here noted as an evil signe. The like to be marked in all histories: and that not the least of the Lorde Hastings in King Richard the third his daies. For, beside his daungerous dreame (which was a shrewd prophesie of his mishap that folowed) it is said, that in the morning riding toward the tower of London, there to sit upon matters of counsell, his horse stumbled twise or thrise by the way: which of some, that riding with him in his company were privy to his neare destinie, was secretly marked, and afterward noted for memorie of his great mishap that ensued. For being then as merrie as man might be, and least doubting any mortal danger, he was, within two houres after, of the tyrant put to a shamfull death.

As belles, by such trifles are noted, the reliques and rags of popish superstition, which put no small religion in belles, and babies, s. Idoles, and glasses, s. Paxes, and such like trumperies.

Great cold, for they boast much of their outward patience, and voluntary sufferance, as a worke of merit and holy humblenesse.

Sweet S. Charitie, the Catholiques common othe, and onely speach, to have charitie alwayes in their mouth, and sometime in their outward actions, but never inwardly in faith and godly zeale.

Clincke, a keyhole: whose diminutive is clicket, used of Chaucer for a key.

Stounds, fittes: aforesaid.

His lere, his lesson.

Medled, mingled.

Beastlihead, a greeting to the person of a beast. Sibbe, a kinne.

Newell, a newe thing.

To forestall, to prevent. Glee, cheare: aforesaid.

Deare a price, his life which he lost for those toyes.

Such end, is an Epiphonema, or rather the moral of the whole tale, whose purpose is to warn the Protestant to beware, how he giveth credit to the unfaithfull Catholique; wherof we have dayly proofes sufficient, but one most famous of all practised of late yeares by Charles the ninth.

Both these Emblemes make one whole Hexametre. The first spoken of Palinode, as in reproach of them that be distrustfull, is a peece of Theognis verse, intending, that who doth most mistrust is most false. For such experience in falshood breedeth mistrust in the minde, thinking no lesse guile to lurke in others then in himselfe. But Piers thereto strongly replieth with an other peece of the same verse, saying, as in his former fable, what faith then is there in the faithlesse? For if faith be the ground of Religion, which faith they daily false, what hold is there of their religion? And this is all that they say.

HOBBINOLL. COLIN CLOUT.

Hob. Lo! Colin, here the place whose plesaunt syte From other shades hath weand my wandring minde, Tell mee, what wants mee here to worke delyte ? The simple ayre, the gentle warbling winde, So calme, so coole, as no where else I finde; The grassie grounde with daintie daysies dight, The bramble bush, where byrdes of every kinde To the waters fall their tunes attemper right.

Col. O happie Hobbinoll, I blesse thy state, That Paradise hast founde which Adam lost : Here wander may thy flocke early or late, Withouten dread of wolves to bene ytost; Thy lovely layes here maist thou freely boste : But I, unhappie Man! whom cruell Fate And angrie gods pursue from coste to coste, Can no where finde to shroude my lucklesse pate.

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Hob. Then, if by mee thou list advised bee, Forsake the soyle that so doth thee bewitch; Leave mee those hilles where harbrough nis to see, Nor holy-bush, nor brere, nor winding ditch; And to the dales resort, where shepheards ritch, And fruitfull flocks, bene every where to see : Here no night-ravens lodge, more black then pitch, Nor elvish ghosts, nor gastly owles doe flee ; But friendly Faeries, met with many Graces, And lightfoote Nymphes, can chace the lingring Night

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Ver. 16. — pate.] Pate was not a ludicrous or illiberal word formerly. T. WARTON.

Ver. 19. harbrough] This word harbrough or herbrough, is mentioned in the Glossary to Urry's Chaucer as signifying an inn, a lodging. TODD.