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Hymen's Eclogue between Admetus and Menalchas.
(From "A new Spring, shadowed in sundry pithie Poems,"
printed by G. Eld, for Thomas Bailie, 1619. 4to. By Musophilus.]
Menalchas. What makes Admetus sad :- Whate'er it be, Some cause there is that thus hath alter'd thee! Is it the loss of substance ? or of friends ? Or, thy content in discontentment ends ? Is it some scruple in thy conscience, Which, unresolved, doth leave thee in suspence? Is it, that thou thy long wish'd love shouldst leese! Admet. No, no Menalchas, it is none of these ! Men. Thou art not sick ? Admet. Nor sick, nor greatly well. Men. Where lies thy grief? Admet. My countenance can tell ! Men. Smooth is thy brow! thy countnance fresh
enough! Admet. But cares have made my wreakful mind
as rough, Men. Of cares, Admetus? Admet. Yes! I have
share ! Men. Yet, hope of cure ! Admet. No hope of cure to care !
Men. Nay, then I see, 'tis love that thee doth
wring. Admet. Thou err’st Menalchas, there is no such
thing. Men. If neither loss of friends, nor loss of wealth, Want to enjoy thy love, nor want of health, If neither discontent, nor grief, do show Care in thy face, nor sorrow in thy brow, If thou be free, as we all know thee free, Engaged to none,—what is it grieveth thee? Admet. Wouldst know Menalchas ? Men. Yes ! Admet. I'll tell thee then : The case is alter'd !--I'm a married man !
[From the same.) [This is inserted on account of the singularity of its versi
A TIME there was, and divers there be yet
(For virtues, turtle-like, do single sit, . But, troops of vices still in squadrons meet,)
A boon companion, to his liquor given, Came thither, with his neighbours, to be shriven. “Stephen” (quoth friar), for's Christian name was
Stephen, “What sins hast done to grieve the Lord of heaven?
Speak freely, man! and it is ten to seven “ But by due penance I will make all even. “ Confession is the way, when man is driven “ Into despair, that guides him into heaven.”
« I have been drunk last day, and this day too, “ And may be next day too for aught I know; " Tell me then, holy friar, directly, how 6. Or in what sort I may my penance do ?” “Drunk ?" (quoth the friar) “now by the faith I owe,
I know not what it means ! nor, as I trow, “ Under confession had I it e'er till now! “ Yet, come next day, thou'lt hear what thou
“ shalt do.”
Meanwhile, the friar would not neglect his time
For upsefreese' he drank from four to nine,
Upward and downward it did work so sore,
Stephen kept his steaven, and, to the time he gave, Came to demand what penance he should have? “ What penance?” (quoth the friar) “ I'll tell thee
" I think it fit this penance to receive. “Go and be drunk again! for if it have « Th' effect with thee it had with me, I'd crave “ No sharper penance for the sinfull'st slave: “ For soon it would possess me of my grave !"
· Quære, Upsefreese ?
[Extracted out of “ Alcilia. Philoparthen's loving Folly," &c.
By J. C. (quære if J. Cook?) London, second impression, 4to. 1628.]
What thing is beauty, nature's dearest minion?
The snare of youth ; like the inconstant moon, Waxing and waning : error of opinion;
A morning's flower that withereth ere noon; A swelling fruit, no sooner ripe than rotten; Which sickness makes forlorn, and time forgotten.
In looking back unto my follies past,
While I the present with times past compare, And think how many hours I then did waste,
Painting on clouds, and building in the air, I sigh within myself, and say in sadness, “ This thing, which fools call love, is nought but
How vain is youth, that, cross'd in his desire,
Doth fret and fume, and inwardly repine, As though 'gainst heav'n itself he would conspire,
And with his frailty 'gainst his fate combine :