Fol. I
A.I.
Tho
Januarye.
Ianuarye.
Januarye.
Januarye.
Ægloga prima.
ARGVMENTARGUMENT.
IN
In this fyrst Æglogue
Colin cloute
a shepheardes boy complaineth him of his vnfortunateunfortunate
louelove, being but
newly (as semeth) enamoured of a coun-triecountrie
lasse called
Rosalinde: with which strong
affection being very sore tra-ueled,traveled,
he compareth his carefull case to the sadde season of the yeare,
to the frostie ground, to the frosen trees, and to his owne winterbeaten
flocke. And lastlye, fynding himselfe robbed of all former pleasaunce and
delights, hee breaketh his Pipe in peeces, and casteth him selfe to the
ground.
COLINColin Cloute.
A Shepeheards boye (no better doe him
call)
whenWhen Winters wastful spight was almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,
Led forth his flock, that had bene long ypent.
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the folde,
That now vnnethesunnethes their feete could them vpholduphold.
All as the Sheepe, such was the shepeheards looke,
For pale and wanne he was, (alas the while,)while),
May seeme he
lovd
, or els some care he tooke:
Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his stile.
IanuarieJanuarie.
Maist
Tho to a hill his faynting flocke he ledde,
And thus him playnd, the while his shepe there fedde.
Ye Gods of louelove, that pitie louerslovers payne,
(If any gods the paine of louerslovers
pitie:)pitie):
Looke from aboueabove, where you in ioyesjoyes remaine,
And bowe your eares vntounto my dolefull dittie.
And Pan thou shepheards God, that once
didst louelove,
Pitie the paines, that thou thy selfe didst proueprove.
Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:
Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted
Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.
And now is come thy wynters stormy state,
Thy mantle mard, wherein thou mas-kedstmaskedst late.
Such rage as winters, reigneth in my heart,
My life bloud friesing with vnkindlyunkindly cold:
Such stormy stoures do breede my balefnllbalefull smart,
As if my yeare were wast, and woxen old.
And yet alas, but now my spring begonne,
And yet alas, yt is already
donne.
You naked trees, whose shady leauesleaves are lost,
Wherein the byrds were wont to build their bowre:
And now are clothd with mosse and hoary frost,
Instede of bloosmes, wherwith your buds did flowre:
I see your teares, that from your boughes doe raine,
Whose drops in drery ysicles remaine.
All so my lustfull leafe is drye and sere,
My timely buds with wayling all are wasted:
The blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,
With breathed sighes is blowne away, &and blasted,
And from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,
As on your boughes the ysicles depend.
Thou feeble flocke, whose fleece is rough and rent,
Whose knees are weake through fast and euillevill fare:
IanuarieJanuarie.
Fol. 2
A.ii.
Colins
Mayst witnesse well by thy ill gouernementgovernement,
Thy maysters mind is ouercomeovercome with care.
Thou weake, I wanne: thou leane, I quite forlorne:
With mourning pyne I, you with pyning mourne.
A thousand sithes I curse that carefull hower,hower.
Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see:
And eke tenne thousand sithes I blesse the stoure,
Wherein I sawe so fayre a sight, as shee.
Yet all for naught: snchsuch sight hath bred my bane.
Ah God, that louelove should breede both ioyjoy and payne.
It is not
Hobbinol, wherefore I
plaine,
Albee my louelove he seeke with dayly suit:
His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,
His kiddes, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.
Ah foolish
Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene
vayne:
Colin
them giuesgives to
Rosalind
againe.
I louelove thilke lasse, (alas why doe I louelove?)
And am forlorne, (alas why am I lorne?)
Shee deignes not my good will, but doth reprouereprove,
And of my rurall musick holdeth scorne.
Shepheards deuisedevise she hateth as the snake,
And laughes the songes, that
Colin Clout
doth make.
Wherefore my pype, albee rude Pan thou
please,
Yet for thou pleasest not, where most I would:
And thou vnluckyunlucky Muse, that wontst to ease
My musing mynd, yet canst not, when thou should:
Both pype and Muse, shall sore the while abye.
So broke his oaten pype, and downe dyd lye.
By that, the welked Phœbus gan availe,
His weary waine, and nowe the frosty Night
Her mantle black through heauenheaven gan ouerhaileoverhaile.
Which seene, the pensife boy halfe in despight
Arose, and homeward drouedrove his sonned sheepe,
Whose hanging heads did seeme his carefull case to weepe.
IanuarieJanuarie.
IuliaJulia
Colins Embleme.
Anchôra speme.
Colin orig] COLIN When orig] when while), orig] while,) pitie): orig] pitie:) maskedst orig] mas-kedst balefull orig] balefnll #ed1581] hower, #ed1579] hower.such orig] snch Colin Cloute orig] COLIN Cloute Thomas orig] Tho. wherof
orig] wher of of, orig] of. under orig] vuder
traveledtravailed, burdened
wastfulcreating desolation
ypentpenned up
woxewaxed, grew
caresorrow, anxiety
tookesuffered
couthE.K.
Thothen
fayntingfeeble, sluggish
playndcomplained, lamented
proveexperience, suffer
Whilomein the past, some time ago, once upon a
time
dightdress, clothe
unkindlyunnatural; hurtful
stouresturmoils, upheavals, emotional
crises
springyouth
dependhang down
evillunwholesome
ill governmentpoor care
pynewaste from grief
banewoe; ruin
clownishrustic
curtsiescourteous acts, gifts
cracknellesa light, crisp biscuit of hollow
shape
Beneare
thilkethis, or that
lorneleft
makecompose
ruderustic
welkedfaded, diminished in brightness
pensifesad, brooding
unlikelyhooddissimilarity, discrepancy
pæderasticeloving boys
gynerasticeloving women