SHepheardsShepheards that wont on pipes of oaten
Oft times to plaine your louesloves concealed smart:
And with your piteous layes hauehave learnd to breed
Compassion in a countrey lasses hart.
Hearken ye gentle shepheards to my song,
And place my dolefull plaint your plaints emong.
To you alone I sing this mournfull verse,
The mournfulst verse that euerever man heard tell:
To you whose softened hearts it may empierse,
VVithWith dolours dart for death of Astrophel.
To you I sing and to none other wight,
For well I wot my rymes bene rudely dight.
Yet as they been, if any nycer wit
Shall hap to heare, or couetcovet them to read:
Thinke he, that such are for such ones most fit,
Made not to please the liuingliving but the dead.
And if in him found pity euerever place,
Let him be moov’d to pity such a case.
A Gentle Shepheard borne in Arcady,
Of gentlest race that euerever shepheard bore:
About the grassie bancks of Hæmony,
Did keepe his sheep, his litle stock and store.
Full carefully he kept them day and night,
In fairest fields, and Astrophel he
Young Astrophel the pride of shepheards
Young Astrophel the rusticke lasses
Far passing all the pastors of his daies,
In all that seemly shepheard might behouebehove.
In one thing onely fayling of the best,
That he was not so happie as the rest.
For from the time that first the Nymph his mother
Him forth did bring, and taught her lambs to feed:
A sclender swaine excelling far each other,
In comely shape, like her that did him breed.
He grew vpup fast in goodnesse and in grace,
And doubly faire wox both in mynd and face.
Which daily more and more he did augment,
With gentle vsageusage and demeanure myld:
That all mens hearts with secret rauishmentravishment
He stole away, and weetingly beguyld.
Ne spight it selfe that all good things doth spill,
Found ought in him, that she could say was ill.
His sports were faire, his ioyancejoyance innocent,
Sweet without sowre, and honny without gall:
And he himselfe seemd made for meriment,
Merily masking both in bowre and hall.
There was no pleasure nor delightfull play,
When Astrophel so euerever was away.
For he could pipe and daunce, and caroll sweet,
Emongst the shepheards in their shearing feast:
As Somers larke that with her song doth greet,
The dawning day forth comming from the East.
And layes of louelove he also could compose,
Thrise happie she, whom he to praise did chose.
Full many Maydens often did him woo,
Them to vouchsafe emongst his rimes to name,
Or make for them as he was wont to doo,
For her that did his heart with louelove inflame.
For which they promised to dight for him,
Gay chapelets of flowers and gyrlonds trim.
And many a Nymph both of the wood and brooke,
Soone as his oaten pipe began to shrill:
Both christall wells and shadie grouesgroves forsooke,
To heare the charmes of his enchanting skill.
And brought him presents, flowers if it were prime,
Or mellow fruit if it were haruestharvest time.
But he for none of them did care a whit,
Yet wood Gods for them oft sighed sore:
Ne for their gifts vnworthieunworthie of his wit,
Yet not vnworthieunworthie of the countries store.
For one alone he cared, for one he sight,
His lifes desire, and his deare louesloves delight.
Stella the faire, the fairest star in
As faire as Venus or the fairest faire:
A fairer star saw neuernever
Shot her sharp pointed beames through purest aire.
Her he did louelove, her he alone did honor,
His thoughts, his rimes, his songs were all vpõupõvponuponher.
To her he vowd the seruiceservice of his daies,
On her he spent the riches of his wit:
For her he made hymnes of immortall praise,
Of onely her he sung, he thought, he writ.
Her, and but her of louelove he worthie deemed,
For all the rest but litle he esteemed.
Ne her with ydle words alone he wowed,
And verses vaine (yet verses are not vaine)
But with brauebrave deeds to her sole seruiceservice vowed,
And bold atchieuementsatchievements her did entertaine.
For both in deeds and words he nourtred was,
Both wise and hardie (too hardie alas)
In wrestling nimble, and in renning swift,
In shooting steddie, and in swimming strong:
Well made to strike, to throw, to leape, to lift,
And all the sports that shepheards are emong.
In eueryevery one he vanquisht eueryevery one,
He vanquisht all, and vanquisht was of none.
Besides, in hunting such felicitie,
Or rather infelicitie he found:
That eueryevery field and forest far away,
He sought, where saluagesalvage beasts do most abound.
No beast so saluagesalvage but he could it kill,
No chace so hard, but he therein had skill.
Such skill matcht with such courage as he had,
Did prick him foorth with proud desire of praise:
To seek abroad, of daunger nought y’drad,
His mistresse name, and his owne fame to raise.
What need perill to be sought abroad,
Since round about vsus, it doth make aboad?
It fortuned as he, that perilous game
In forreine soyle pursued far away:
Into a forest wide, and waste he came
Where store he heard to be of saluagesalvage pray.
So wide a forest and so waste as this,
Nor famous Ardeyn, nor fowle Arlo is.
There his welwouenwelwoven toyles and subtil traines,
He laid the brutish nation to enwrap:
So well he wrought with practise and with paines,
That he of them great troups did soone entrap.
Full happie man (misweening much) was hee,
So rich a spoile within his power to see.
Eftsoones all heedlesse of his dearest hale,
Full greedily into the heard he thrust:
To slaughter them, and worke their finall bale,
Least that his toyle should of their troups be brust.
Wide wounds emongst them many one he made,
Now with his sharp borespear, now with his blade.
His care was all how he them all might kill,
That none might scape (so partiall vntounto none)
Ill mynd so much to mynd anothers ill,
As to become vnmyndfullunmyndfull of his owne.
But pardon that vntounto the cruell skies,
That from himselfe to them withdrew his eies.
So as he rag’d emongst that beastly rout,
A cruell beast of most accursed brood:
VponUpon him turnd (despeyre makes cowards stout)
And with fell tooth accustomed to blood,
Launched his thigh with so mischieuousmischievous might,
That it both bone and muscles ryuedryved quight.
So deadly was the dint and deep the wound,
And so huge streames of blood thereout did flow:
That he endured not the direfull stound,
But on the cold deare earth himselfe did throw.
The whiles the captiuecaptive heard his nets did rend,
And hauinghaving none to let, to wood did wend.
Ah where were ye this while his shepheard peares,
To whom aliuealive was nought so deare as hee:
And ye faire Mayds the matches of his yeares,
Which in his grace did boast you most to bee?
Ah where were ye, when he of you had need,
To stop his wound that wondrously did bleed?
Ah wretched boy the shape of drery head,
And sad ensample of mans suddein end:
Full litle faileth but thou shalt be dead,
VnpitiedUnpitied, vnplayndunplaynd, of foe or frend.
Whilest none is nigh, thine eylids vpup to close,
And kisse thy lips like faded leauesleaves of rose.
A sort of shepheards sewing of the chace,
As they the forest raunged on a day:
By fate or fortune came vntounto the place,
Where as the lucklesse boy yet bleeding lay.
Yet bleeding lay, and yet would still hauehave bled,
Had not good hap those shepheards thether led.
They stopt his wound (too late to stop it was)
And in their armes then softly did him reare:
Tho (as he wild) vntounto his louedloved lasse,
His dearest louelove him dolefully did beare.
The dolefulst beare that euerever man did see,
Was Astrophel, but dearest vntounto mee.
She when she saw her louelove in such a plight,
With crudled blood and filthie gore deformed:
That wont to be with flowers and gyrlonds dight,
And her deare fauoursfavours dearly well
Her face, the fairest face, that eye mote see,
She likewise did deforme like him to bee.
Her yellow locks that shone so bright and long,
As Sunny beames in fairest somers day:
She fiersly tore, and with outragious wrong
From her red cheeks the roses rent away.
And her faire brest the threasury of ioyjoy,
She spoyld thereof, and filled with annoy.
His palled face impictured with death,
She bathed oft with teares and dried oft:
And with sweet kisses suckt the wasting breath,
Out of his lips like lillies pale and soft.
And oft she cald to him, who answerd nought,
But onely by his lookes did tell his thought.
The rest of her impatient regret,
And piteous mone the which she for him made:
No toong can tell, nor any forth can set,
But he whose heart like sorrow did inuadeinvade.
At last when paine his vitall powres had spent,
His wasted life her weary lodge forwent.
Which when she saw, she staied not a whit,
But after him did make vntimelyuntimely haste:
Forth with her ghost out of her corps did flit,
And followed her make like Turtle chaste.
To proueprove that death their hearts cannot diuidedivide,
Which liuingliving were in louelove so firmly tide.
The Gods which all things see, this same beheld,
And pittying this paire of louerslovers trew:
Transformed them there lying on the field,
Into one flowre that is both red and blew.
It first growes red, and then to blew doth fade,
Like Astrophel, which thereinto was
And in the midst thereof a star appeares,
As fairly formd as any star in skyes:
Resembling Stella in her freshest
Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes,
And all the day it standeth full of deow,
Which is the teares, that from her eyes did flow.
That hearbe of some, Starlight is cald by name,
Of others Penthia, though not so well:
But thou where euerever thou doest finde the same,
From this day forth do call it Astrophel.
And when so euerever thou it vpup doest take,
Do pluck it softly for that shepheards sake.
Hereof when tydings far abroad did passe,
The shepheards all which louedloved him full deare:
And sure full deare of all he louedloved was,
Did thether flock to see what they did heare.
And when that pitteous spectacle they vewed,
The same with bitter teares they all bedewed.
And eueryevery one did make exceeding mone,
With inward anguish and great griefe opprest:
And eueryevery one did weep and waile, and mone,
And meanes deviz’d to shew his sorrow best.
That from that houre since first on grassie greene,
Shepheards kept sheep, was not like mourning seen.
But first his sister that Clorinda hight,
The gentlest shepheardesse that liueslives this day:
And most resembling both in shape and spright
Her brother deare, began this dolefull lay.
Which least I marre the sweetnesse of the vearse,
In sort as she it sung, I will rehearse.