IX. THE WILLOW TREE. A PASTORAL DIALOGUE. From the small black-letter collection, intitled, "The Golden Garland of princely Delights," collated with two other copies, and corrected by conjecture. WILLY. How now, shepherde, what meanes that? Why that willow in thy hat? Why thy scarffes of red and yellowe Turn'd to branches of greene willowe? CUDDY. They are chang'd, and so am I; 5 Sorrowes live, but pleasures die : Phillis hath forsaken mee, Which makes me weare the willowe-tree. Thy hard happ doth mine appease, And still must weare the willowe-tree. WILLY. Shepherde, be advis'd by mee, CUDDY. Herdsman, I'll be rul❜d by thee, Henceforth I will do as they, And love a new love every day. 25 SO X. THE LADY'S FALL, is given (with corrections) from the editor's ancient folio MS. collated with two printed copies in black-letter; one in the British Museum, the other in the Pepy's Collection. Its old title is, "A laTo the tune "mentable ballad of the Lady's fall." of "In Pescod Time, &c."-The ballad here referred to is preserved in the MUSES LIBRARY, 8vo. p. 281. It is an allegory or vision, intitled, "THE SHEPHERD'S SLUMBER," and opens with some pretty rural images, viz. "In pescod time when hound to horn "I went to gather strawberries MARKE well my heavy dolefull tale, You loyall lovers all, And heedfully beare in your brest A gallant ladyes fall. Long was she wooed, ere shee was wonne, To lead a wedded life, But folly wrought her overthrowe Before shee was a wife. 5 Too soone, alas! shee gave consent And yeelded to his will, Though he protested to be true, And faithfull to her still. 10 Shee felt her body altered quite, Her bright hue waxed pale, Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white, 15 Her strength began to fayle. Soe that with many a sorrowful sigh, To have conceived with childe. Shee kept it from her parents sight As close as close might bee, And soe put on her silken gowne None might her swelling see. Unto her lover secretly Her greefe shee did bewray, And, walking with him hand in hand, These words to him did say; Behold, quoth shee, a maids distresse By love brought to thy bowe, Behold I goe with childe by thee, Tho none thereof doth knowe. 20 25 30 The litle babe springs in my wombe To heare its fathers voyce, Lett it not be a bastard called, Sith I made thee my choyce: Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe And wed me out of hand; O leave me not in this extreme Of griefe, alas! to stand. Think on thy former promises, To mee thou madest thy moane. And marry me with speede; Or with thy rapyer end my life, Ere further shame proceede. Alacke! my beauteous love, quoth hee, Which way can I convay thee hence, When dangers are so near? Thy friends are all of hye degree, And I of meane estate; Full hard it is to gett thee forthe 35 40 45 50 55 |