[]

PASTORALS. After the ſimple Manner of THEOCRITUS.

By Mr. PVRNEY.

[...] Theoc.

LONDON: Printed for J. BROWN, at the Black Swan without Temple-Bar, and R. BURLEIGH, in Amen-Corner. 1717. Price One Shilling.

ADVERTISEMENT Concerning the LANGUAGE.

[]

MR. Dryden much admires Shakeſpear's Tempeſt; In that Comedy, new PERSONAGES are introduced; for whom, he thinks, the Poet has in⯑vented a Language equally uncom⯑mon. True it is, that ſuch is the [...]recept of a CRITICK, in no ſmall repute. Be [...] Language, ſays Quinctilian, alway ſuited to the [] Matter. True it alſo is, that † Homer uſed the moſt ruſtick Words, drawn from the Beotians; Virgil, from Ennius, in his HEROICKS, render'd his Language uncommon; Milton, Shakeſpear, Spen⯑cer, and our contemporary Paſtoral Writers, by reviving the antiquated Engliſh terms, by chuſing and culling the fineſt Words of our Glorious AN⯑CESTORS. In the Steps of theſe, our Swain has ventur'd to tread; and where the Phraſe in uſe was not ſuited to the ſoftneſs and ſimplicity of his CHARACTERS, as he is acquainted with the Dialect of moſt Counties in England, has from thence drawn the tendereſt Expreſſions, as he thought, and beſt adapted to the ſimplicity of his ſentiments. Induced, I ſuppoſe, to take theſe Liberties in Paſtoral, by what that excellent Judge of Poetry Mr. Addiſon, has laid down on that Poem. How beautiful, ſays he, is the old Paſtoral BALLAD, beginning thus,

§ RAGER go vetch tha
Or Cows.
Kee, or elſe tha Zun
Will quite be go, be vore c'have half a don.

And into Language how much finer than the Au⯑thor's, has he turn'd a Thought of Virgil.

[]
And what that hight, which girds the Welkin ſheen,
Where twelve gay Signs in meet array are ſeen.

This great Man adds, that by imitating the ru⯑ſticity of the Dorick, by the help of the old obſo⯑lete Roman Language, Virgil might have attain'd as much of the Air of Theocritus, as Phillips hath that of Spencer, by uſing the antiquated ENGLISH.

Fewer Old-words, indeed, has our preſent Wri⯑ter admitted, than are found, either in Spencer, or the incomparable Paſtorals of Mr: Phillips: But in return, has often made uſe of thoſe once introdu⯑ced. As his CHARACTERS are particularly ſimple and tender, much alſo has he imitated Spencer's manner, of changing the vulgar dreſs, as 'twere, of his Words, yet leaving the Main Body ſo as to be known. Homer's manner of performing this Ariſtotle ſhows in the 21 Chap. of his Poeſie: He uſed for [...], [...]; and for [...], [...], &c. Virgil did it, by changing ILLI into OLLI, and the like. Milton by altering HERMIT into EREMITE; ENTERPRIZE into EM⯑PRIZE, &c. And Spencer by affixing y and a before, and en, et, ie, after his Words; which gives an inexpreſſible ſoftneſs to, without hiding the Lan⯑guage.

[] This Liberty every good heroick Writer has ta⯑ken; And well knew Spencer, that Paſtoral ſtill more required it. He has given us, in his Fairy-Queen, a new Language: The reaſon muſt be, be⯑cauſe his Scene lyes in a new Place. But how much more has he done it in his Paſtorals.

* D'acier, and many Frenchmen, complain of the penury and ſtiffneſs of their Language, thro' the want of this. And Mr. Addiſon obſerves, that the ancient Romans did the like. Yet muſt I con⯑feſs, that even among the Paſtoral Writers, no one but Theocritus, Spencer, and our preſent Britiſh Swains, durſt ever venture themſelves in this Pa⯑ſtoral Path, being affraid and unwilling to forgo that Honour which either a refin'd Language or a ſublime one procures: But then muſt we add, that from thence it is, that no Critick, but who dares not ſtir a ſtep without Leading-ſtrings, as Scaliger, Rapin, &c, has ever allow'd any elſe to be Paſtoral Writers.

But is any One diſſatisfied with our rural STILE, read he a full Vindication of one much more ſo: ſuch he'll find before † Spencer's Paſtorals; and by his Friend Mr. Harvey. For who knows not, [] that his Language was equally uncommon in his Day, and in Our's; Our TONGUE receiving no vi⯑ſible Alteration in one hundred Years. This ap⯑pears from Ben. Johnſon, Hooker, Our Common-Prayer Book, &c.

The Reader will obſerve I here only bring ſome few Authorities; The reaſon that I my ſelf de⯑cline laying down any thing concerning the true Paſtoral Language is, becauſe we ſhall ſee, I be⯑lieve, a Diſcourſe in a ſhort time on the Nature of this kind of Poetry. Where that TENDER in the Language, which is agreeable to Paſtoral, will be conſidered; and diſtinguiſh'd from the TENDER which is ſuitable to the Epick, and that which the Tragick Poem requires.

Conclude we then with what the Learned Baſil Kennet ſays, in his Life of Theocritus, after ſpeaking of his ruſtick Stile. As for our ſelves, SAYS HE, the SCOTCH-SONGS, which paſs with ſo much Applauſe, ſhow, that it is not impoſſible to re⯑vive this old Conduct among Us with Succeſs.

POSTSCRIPT.

[]

AS for the MORAL and ACTIONS in each of the following Paſtorals, (for Action is the only Unity to be kept in that Poem) they lye ob⯑vious to every Eye. But as the Paſtoral does not paint the CHARACTERS ſo lively as the tragick or epick Poem, thoſe of our Shepherdeſſes are ſpeci⯑fied in the Arguments. And this for the eaſe of the SOFT-SEX, whoſe Favour and Approbation our young SWAIN ſeems particularly deſirous of.

[11]PAPLET:
OR, Love and Innocence.
PASTORAL the I.

[]
ARGUMENT.

CUBBIN, the Writer ſo call'd, was acquainted, with PAPLET and SOFLIN. All Young was PAPLET and ignorant of Love; SOFLIN more experienc'd, but equally tender and innocent. The firſt eager to be let into the Nature and Manner of Lovers and the other SEX; The other of a Temper particularly free and inclining. Theſe, as CUBBIN was inform'd, were at Evening gone out to a BUSH of a ſweet and pleaſant Scituation to tattle of Love, and of COLLIKIN SOFLIN'S Lover. In pain is CUBBIN, leaſt the gentle PAPLET ſhould fall in Love with him too, and goes forth to skulk near the BUSH to hear if it indeed was ſo. There does the latter part of their Diſcourſe, which alone he hears, confirm the hear-ſay. When the gloom of Night draws on, they go to bath and cool 'em in EDEN Brook. There is PAPLET ſolitary and muſing; and thence, ig⯑norant [] of her Ail, returns alone, by Moonſhine to the BUSH: For there COLLIKIN, that Morn, had loll'd with his LOVE. CUBBIN ſoon diſcovers her uneaſi⯑neſs; forſakes hit Covert to attempt her relief; But endeavouring to divert her thoughts from COLLIKIN, is chid from her ſight. So being averſe to her Cure, ſhe falls intirely in Love.

The time, in this PIECE, is from Noon to Night; The Seaſon Summer; and the Scene on the Banks of the Brook Eden; which runs out of the Medway, ſome Miles Weſt of TUNBRIDGE in Kent.

‘ [...] Bion. 2.’
A Gentle Swain yfed in Kentiſh Mead,1
The gentleſt Swain that ever
Flock did feed.
Soft he beſide the Stream of
EDEN lay,
And graz'd abie the Banks of fair MEDWAY.
[12] Up with the Morn, as lith as Lark, he'd riſe;
And Cubbin he, ſo ſaid him Shepherd Boys.
So as he ſate, with LASS or toys the YOUTH;
Or ſoft he ſooth's, for ſoft can Cubbin ſooth.
There ſweetly oped each Flower the little Lip,
Freſh Honey-dew and Evening Air to ſip.
Was, when his CADE he'd kiſs, and pretty play:
Cade. Or, Cade-Lamb.
Or bath in Brook, then roll on tender Lea.
Lea. Or, Green.
Sooth! would too RHIMES go make as looſe he lay,
(Though God-wot, to make RHIMES ſmall Wit had he.)
And wont out-ſcrawl and print 'em on the Sand,
All as he lay along with Crook in Hand.
Poor Pen, you'll ſay:—Ay and poor Poet too!
But 'lack, muſt do what Heaven will have Us do.
[13]
Yet happy he, in time, found means to mark
His witleſs Tattle on a MAPLE's BARK.
But ah, how ſhould he, poor Boy, 'ere find out,
Lines near enough to deck his TREE about.
Forc'd was he Swains o'rehear behind ſome balk,
Then on his TREE go print the tender Talk.
Late he abie a Place of Pleaſure lay,
All fairly deckt in Sweets of faireſt MAY.
Where ſilkie Thighs in Dew Graſs-hoppers bath'd;
And merry cherruping, ſo roſie breath'd.
Ye Surrey Swains! and Surrey Swains have bliſs;
I dare Ye ſhow ſo ſoft a SHADE as this!
Atween the dewie Leaves as Air was blown,
The dewie Leaves yquivered every one.
[14]
The why he came here was all for two Maids,
He thought, were chatting nigh, of Love and Lads.
He came the one to warn, that Youngling-breaſt
The leſs did know of Love, did love the leſs.
Pity'd her the ſoft Swain: to warn he ſtrove,
Leſt the young HEART might hap to fall in love.
Foreby him ſate theſe Maids in looſe Array,
As fair and freſh as Summer Eve might ſee.
Sweet gay-green Flowers, ſo pretty put anear,
The Pink and Pancet pretty put anear.
Soflin and Paplet they; (ah dainty THEY!)
That ripe as Roſe, this a ſoft-aged MEY.2
[15] Both lith as Youngling Roe, all-tender too
As Ladybird that lives on twinkling Dew.
Paplet, a CHRISTIAN's and a JEWES's Child,3
Scarce five Year old, was laid, to ſtarve in Field;
For that the BABE 'they could no longer hide:
But all by hap an anciant SIRE it ſpy'd;
Juſt ſtarving; for the tender Teeth been broak,
As twould crack Nutt: It ſmiled when up he took▪
Oh ſweet my Father reach that bough of HIPS!
What must I do, ah how I've ſcratch'd my Lips!
He tookt to's Cave; and pull'd the Thorns all out
Her pretty Feet; they bled with walk about.
There brought her up with Florey freſh his Son,
Who hunts wild Beaſts, 'tis what they live epon.
[16] Now ſick if Sire or Son, ſhe moans him meet,
Soft tend's, with cheary Chat, and ſoothing ſweet
Theſe gentle HEARTS ſmall thought were Cubbin lay;
In ſooth ſome halfendeal undeckt they be.
Honey-lip Gales ſoft breathed on their Hair,
Waved their Cloaths, and did their Boſoms bare
And well Iwis, as bare their boſoms, all4
The Flowerets out that decked 'em did fall.
A Willow on the bank upheld their Heads,
(Oh happy Tree, to hold ſuch lovely Maids!)
A ſoothing ſhade the roſie Sweetbreer gave;
Where ſang the Bird that ſings ſo ſoft at Eve.
i. e. The Nightin⯑gale.
[17]
Believe Me now, thus ſhow'd they; by my fay
As lovely ſhow'd, as Lilly on the Lea!
But ſure that Paplet was the tend'reſt Laſs!
Well ween I Cubbin lay at little Eaſe.
So ſoft ſhe ſeem'd! By Heav'n ſeem'd more
than ſoft!
Her Lip to touch he wiſh'd him, O how oft!
Now ſoothly Paplet was the tend'reſt Mey!
Ah God! I ſmall ween'd could ſo tender be!
Some-deal her Paps been pufft, that ſooth might
ſeem
The LITTLE LIFE now juſt of Love gan dream?
Now ſay me, Shepherds, who could help ha'
ſtrove,
To ſave ſo ſweet a HEART from pain of Love?
Love is a gentle pain, a pretty pain:
He came to keep from loving Soltie's Swain.
[18] Soflin was fair as Morning DROP is fair,
And Paplet tender as the Evening Air.
When chatted they, ſo ſweet their chatting were!
Oh I could hear, methought, for ever hear!
On FELLOW firſt, then TREE, they pretty loll,
Quiver their little Lips, their Eyen roll.
Sooth, ever and anon, as Soflin ſpoak,
Paplet in extaſie would hide her LOOK.
Then asken more; yet ſhamed to asken more,
(Of MEN and LOVE) but long'd to know ſo ſore.
Sometimes ſhe'd fling her ſelf epon the Graſs:
Then up, and catch in Arms her Fellow-laſs.
Why may'nt we Men, yquoth the youngling MEY,
And why may'nt we graſp them? Us graſpen they▪
So pleaſed ſhe was, and eager ſtill to know,
In ſooth ſo pleaſed, ſhe knew not what to do.
[19]
But ill I ſay how ſweet the Laſſes ſate,
Oh that you'd ſeen 'em,, I'd give any what!
This ſooth I ſay (for ſooth the Shepherds ſay)
Soft ſimpering thus ſaid the YOUNGLING MEY.
The meaning of the MEY no whit I ween.
I'm ſure, when near I came, juſt thus ſhe ſain.
Paplet.
NOW much I marl: 'Tis pretty; if tell Truth!
But ſay; Ha, Ha! Be HE ſo ſoft in ſooth?
Soflin.
My gentle MEY, he is of gentleſt mood.
Oh that he were my BROTHER! ſure I would
Taken his Hand and tender lead him in,
Whenſo he to the diſtant Field had been.
[20] There pretty ſtroak his Hand, Ne have it ſaid
See Soflin there, O ſee! A fawning Maid!
In his ſoft Boſom I my Hand would ſlip,
And hang epon the ſweetneſs of his Lip.
Paplet.
Don't, Soflin, don't! how can'ſt talk ſo? Lips ſweet;
How meaneſt ſweet? How doen know be ſweet?
Soflin.
All as a-green I walk with Collikin,
The lovely'ſt Lad that ever walk'd a-green.
If be I'm fray'd by Flood, by Boar or Bull,
He ſooth's me ſoft, and calls me ſofteſt Soul.
Be it not pretty? b'lieve me, Pap, he doth!
And holds me 'neath his lilly Arm now ſooth!
And ſweet the Swain my Hand in his will nip,
Then kiſs me with the kiſſes of his Lip.
[21] So ſave me, SWEET, as truth I tell, when ſay
(Why tareſt the Flow'rs ſo fierce, my pretty MEY?)
But hear me, CHICK! I ſeemen oft be fray,
fray. Or, affraid.
When I be not: But MAIDS ſhould ſeem they ſay.
Paplet.
And ſo; why but—and pretty'ſt be't then Maid,
Be lip'd when frayed art? I'll be afraid!
Soflin.
Prettier? Oh prettier, CHILD, than may be thought,
You mayn't hug Men. if be you fearen nought:
But ſure, ſo ſweet it is, ſo hug in Arms!
Skuttle to DEAR, and have him hide from harms!
Paplet.
No more, but then? Yet kind be Swains, you ſaid;
How kind? Mayn't kiſs, Would kiſſing kill 'em, Maid?
But ſoft! meſeem'd—oh I'd have heard for nought
Our ſimple Chat, for ours is ſimple Chat!
Soflin.
[22]
Set ſtill SWEET! Wind might wag: Or LEVERIT ruſh,
With Cock-up Ears: don't go! or Bird from buſh.
Paplet.
That Cubbinet I fear, for whom the MEYS
Late joyn'd, and bought a PIPEIT; all I gueſs
To buſy him, and keep from kiſſing ſo.
The Swain that whiſpers us in Ear, you know,
That he can ſing, then ſnatches a quick kiſs;
Sooth, as the Mey ſuſpecteth nought amiſs.
Now the poor HEART's ſo pleaſed with his Pipe!
Fore GREAT ONES he can't hold, but lay'th to's lip.
Soflin.
I know the Swain, a tender Swain is he!
Fear him not Paplet, fear him not SWEET MEY.
I know the Swain, Who ſooths ſo ſoft as he!
Believe me Laſs, he'll never harm SWEET MEY.
Paplet.
[23]
Oh, but he often skulks a-hind a balk,
To hear the harmleſs Shepherdeſs in talk.
Then tells the Chat to SPARKS at the great-Town,
Who maken Mock at Speech of ſimple Clown.
Ne ſtrange, I trow; for ſay me. SWEET, is't fit
Ne. Or, Nor.
Our weetleſs Tittletattle weren writ?
Unkindly Cubbinet! untoward boy!
Elſe, by my fay! he is a GENTLE BOY.
Soflin.
Sooth is he, but to kiſſing he's ſo given!
He'll kiſs till he's odd, and then kiſs to come even.
He'll kiſs at the Hedge, and he'll kiſs at the Gate;
He'll kiſs if the chattering Magpie but prate!
Paplet.
But how muſt do if Swain ſhould ere kiſs me?
He'll put my Arms around him, didſt not ſay:
[24] Oh!—if to put my hands a-hind he goes:
May ſtrive pull 'way, and that will pull him cloſe!
Soflin.
Be ſure look tender, when to lip he go:
But, ſooth if ſay, Thou canſt not help look ſo.
That dainty dimple in thy little Cheek,
So ſoft thee ſhow's, ſo modeſt, and ſo meek!
Paplet.
Worſt is, if ever YOUNGLING caſt to lay
My hand in's boſom, 'twill ſo pretty be,
Not I know how, O I ſhan't help the fault,
But bluſh, poor ſon! how Soflie muſt I not?
So Paplet, ſofteſt Paplet, as ſhe ſaid,
Her ſweet-dew Lips on Soflies Boſom laid.
Soflin.
No help, I ween; what will be, beſt let be.
But bad in thee, my CHICK, more bad in me.
Paplet.
[25]
Yet STRIPLIN CHEEK look pretty ſo, meweet;
(All as the Roſe in bed of Lillys ſet.)
For Florrey late to the great-town ha' been;
But oh, when firſt me ſaw, how bluſh'd the Swain!
Cauſe why; the ſweetlip boy then caſt to kiſs;
Yet ſay me ſoft, be that ſo much amiſs?
Soflin.
If be but why, ſmall harm ybe I weet.
Colly and I late roved, Nuts to get.
I witleſs was ſo bonny and ſo brag,
(Paplet beware not be with Love ſo wag)
I ſcratchen Chin; ah luckleſs Laſs the when!
See here but, Paplet! I all ſcratch'd my Chin!
The Wound he wiped, and kiſt it 'ore and 'ore;
Why ſooth now, Paplet, elſe 'twould been a ſore.
Whatſo I could to bar my bluſh, I did;
Yet ween not whether ſomedeal look'd not red.
[26] But 'twas allfor his Eyes ſo ſoft did ſeem:
While Honeybreath epon my Neck would ſteam.
And oh, his ringlet-locks too, where they fell
Tittled my breaſts! and I was 'ſhamed to tell.
Paplet.
Why 'ſhamed? I would ha' ſtroak'd 'em off his Face:
And ſooth now ſo, had'ſt felt how ſoft it was!
Oh pleaſant! how you've lived! Dideſt not tho'
Out's Boſom take his LOCKS, when in did blow?
Do let me lye A-LEA with ye, now wo't?
For oft ye ſetten ſo, Laſs, do ye not.
Soflin.
This Morn ſweet ſate we 'neath this ſweet May⯑bough;
Ye Kentiſh Swains, no ſofter ſeat ye know!
The Flowers ſuck'd Honey-dew (O dainty draught!)
Soft for the Bees to ſip that ſip ſo ſoft.
[27] Under my head a hand fair laid the Boy;
Then ſinking down ycloſen ſleepie Eye.
Paplet.
Ay? ſay'ſt in ſooth? and then—why doſt not ſay?
Was it not lovely, when ſo looſe he lay?
Meſeems I ſhould ha' pleaſed with tender Tongue
Or ſooth'd, the while, with ſoftneſs of a Song.
So as ſhe ſaid (and who ſo ſweet can ſain)
Her little Leg would in her Fellow's twine.
Then dainty'd droppen Hand in Soflie Breaſt:
Ah dainty Hand! how Cubbin yearn'd to kiſs't!
Soflin.
Oh ſoft I lull'd him, ſoft as I could lull;
And in my Boſom put his Head to loll!
Sweet glow'd the while, his pretty roſie Cheek;
Smooth lay elong his Limbs, ſo ſlim and ſlieke.
Fair fed I on the fairneſs of his Face;
O Paplet, didſt but ween how pleaſant 'twas!
Paplet.
[28]
I've heard' tis dainty lye along with Ene
Ene. Or, One.
We love; ſay Soflie, be't ſo dainty then?
Soflin.
Dainty? Ay dainty more than heart may weet
Don't look at me, Pap, and I'll tell thee what.
I putten hand in's boſom now that be's,
So ſilkie ſoft! then gently gave't a kiſs!
Soft ſimpering ſaiden this the lovely Maid.
While Paplet 'tween her twey her hand fair had;
Who oft would turn and ſhift, as ill at eaſe:
Cubbin did too to ſee't. Ah careful Caſe!
Paplet.
Stay, Soflin, liſt! Heard I not ſome one ſneeze
'Twas 'mong the SEDGE; faſt by thoſe murmuring Bees!
Soflin.
Poor CHICK, how thou doſt quake! prethee leave quake.
Sooth 'twas ſome Bird but chirp'd in th'buſhie brake▪
Paplet.
[29]
Much Wonder give it me, my gentle DEAR!
Thou nought, ne any one, ſuſpecteſt 'ere.
Soflin.
Why wouldſt have fear? I wonder why doſt warn!.
When I have wrong'd, then I to fear will learn.
[...]ure Soflin none will harm; if Soflin none;
And well I ween, I never any one.
But look, ah me! how Flow'rs be blown out hair;
And boſom too!—But LOVIE likes it bare.
Paplet.
Then do Lads like in ſooth, or ſeemen they?
[...]ve heard ſay, YOUNGLING SWAIN will harm YOUNG MEY.
Yet Florrey looks ſo pretty and ſo pert,
Nought I know how, fancy he could not hurt.
And Collikin, O me! but Collikin,
Of all the Swains, for me—he is the Swain!
Soflin.
[30]
O ſimple he's of Chear, and meek of Mein;
All-fine his Fleſh, and ſooth as ſoft his Skin!
So prettily his Words ſlip off his Tongue,
With a little waggiſh Liſp emong!
But when he ſooths too pleaſant 'tis to bear!
He kiſſes, I ask if a roſie be near!
But ſee there! Lallet's CADE! how that cam [...] there?
Sure by the Lamb the Laſſie ſhould be near!
Oh! Well beween'd! We bath in Brook this Eve▪
You ſee where SPRAYS ſo ſweet a ſhadow give.
You're one; and Lallet Laſs ſo heavenly hewn;
And Poppit maiden ripe as Roſe in June.
This Florey loves; and Fauney freſh love that;
Cuddleit ſay ſome. Up Laſs! mayhap they wai [...]
[31]
THEY go: Their BOSOMS ope to th' Evening Air:
And dip their blooming BEAUTYS freſh and fair:
They pretty play and paddle in the Wet:
And ſtrow with faireſt Flow'rs the Streamulet▪
But Paplet wiſtful was; On bank ſhe ſet,
Siping the Honeyſukles juicie SWEET.
But ah, her mind elſewhere! alaſs on love!
Oh Soflin, thou haſt wrong'd a tender DOVE!
When parted All; and All hied home; ſhe made
As if ſhe too; but ſilent by Moonſhade,
Stale back to th' BUSH; with hands in boſom laid,
(Thoſe hands all fair as flower) and hanging head.
Mayhap (ſoft ſaid ſhe) now HE goes to Bed.
I wonder how HE lyes when there he's laid!
[32] Beſure HE mind's not me when 'mong the Swains.
O could I touch HIM but, juſt touch meſeems!
Yet looked ſhe at Moonſhine on the Stream;
That twinkled fair, and ſtrove not think on him.
Muſed too on th' varying FIGURES made on Graſs,
By th' Light, that 'tween the waving Trees did paſs.
Where fancyeth ſhe depainten this and that,
(But all of Love) atill to th' BUSH did get.
There bluſh'd when firſt it ſaw to think that ſhe
Should ſo ſteal back to th' place where Colly lay.
And am I then? And am I grown, ſhe ſain,
(With that gan pretty finger put in Eyen).
So ſly and falſe? Oh Heav'n! don't ſee! or do,
Forgive!—ſmall weeneth Soflin where I now.
[33]
So ſaying on the bank adown ſhe laid.
Juſt where the Swainet lean'd, as Soflin ſaid.
Then, ſmiling, thus: MAYHAP his head was put
Where mine is now: Who knows? O happy ROOT!
This gentle Cubbinet did ſee and hear,
Waiting abie, the pretty HEART to chear.
He went to ſooth her ſoft, and warn her how
She thought on Collikin. All would not do.
Soon as ſhe ſaw, ſhe ſtarted from her ſeat:
Ne would ſhe hear him Pipe, ne talk awhit.
So that he made as if went ſtrait away;
But went no farther then afore he lay.
The dainty-limbed Laſs, as ſoft to ſee,
As ſpringing Flowrets in the Month of May,
Smooth laid her ſlender Features down again,
All on the ſweetneſs of the Flowrie Plain.
[34] Ah gentle HEART! ah HEART of prettineſs!
Where is the Dalliance, and the tender Kiſs?
Then ſigh'd out this the roſie-liped Laſs,
Soft as her Eye on Heaven yfixen was.
WHAT aileth, O what aileth thee, my Heart;
Now ſooth meſeem's thou be'ſt not as thou wer't.
Be Collikin (ah would he other was!)
Far fairer than the faireſt Lad or Laſs,
Yet what have I to do with Collikin?
Let me not be, e're be for Soflie's Pain!
Tho', methinks, were he not her's, I could well
Wiſh he were mine, Oh me, how wiſh him well!
Thus ſate the YOUNGLING MEY, till far the Night
Was ſpent, and ſooth the Moon nigh loſt her light.
Then up gan riſe; but 'ere ſhe 'gan up riſe,
Tuck'd up her Hair, and wiped her dewie Eyes.
[35] The SOFTHEART SWAIN (for Swainets all are ſo)
Staid till he wept, and when he wept did go.
Unhappy Soflin! Now there love's with thee,
The ſweeteſt Mey that ever Sun did ſee.
All he had ſeen or heard, in head kept he,
To cut on Crook, or mark upon his Tree.
For ſure there is not who can envy that;
Not one, I ween, can envy LASSE's CHAT.
But why ſo fond of LASSES CHAT, ſay you.
Oh, had you ſeen 'em, you'd ha' been ſo too!
Ye gentle YOUTHS! who rove where led by chance▪
If be on Paplet's grief your Eye ſhould glance,
Think the poor Laſs miſhap enough has had;
Ah don't you add, by hating what ſhe ſaid!
Ween, if ye maken mock at it, ye make
At Paplet mock; don't ſo, for Pappie's ſake!
End of the firſt Pastoral.

[39]LALLET:
OR, The Tender Shepherdeſs.
PASTORAL the II.

[]
ARGUMENT TO THE Second PASTORAL.

FAuney and Lallet had an equal Value for each other. Fauney was Young, and of a moſt taking Aſpect: Lallet beauteous and particularly tender-hearted. Theſe walk together to a GROVE at hand; to taſt the pleaſance of the Seaſon, and the ſweets of each othe's talk. There long they bay [] themſelves in the ſoft Delices of the Morn; the harmleſs Swain and gentle Shepherdeſs. Lallet, at length, leaps up to gather STRAWBERRYS for her Lo⯑ver; while he, for her, ſate plaiting Flowery Gyr⯑londs, and wiſhing her return. Long he ſate, and long he wiſh'd. But ſhe, to raiſe his Love, de⯑lay'd her return. Fauney, as ſhe was about to ſur⯑prize and joy him with her ſight, riſes and runs to Paplet to enquire for her. Then 'tis that Lallet's ſoftneſs of heart appears. With watry Eyes ſhe ram⯑bles thro' the GROVE; and accuſes her ſelf of Cruelty. There find her another Lad and Laſs, endeavour to allay her Grief, and ſing a chearful SONG for her Di⯑verſion. At length, Cubbin begs her to go home with him. She declines it, leſt it might occaſion a ſe⯑cond Uneaſineſs to Fauney; and reſolve's to puniſh her ſelf by ſtaying where ſhe was. She does ſo. Till Fauney, at length doth come. He skulks behind the CAVE ſhe ſat in, and hears how uneaſy ſhe was for making him ſo. Anon he ſurprizes her with his ſight, drys up her Tears and conducts home in the height of GOOD-HUMOUR.

As for the Time, tho' it begins in the Morning, the main of this Paſtoral is in the EVENTIDE, and the Moon-light Night that ſucceeds. The Sea⯑ſon Midſummer-Day. And the 1 Scene, a de⯑lightful Grove near Lynheath.

‘ [...] Theoc.’
FAuney and Lallet, this as fair
As Flower, that freſh as Evening Air;
One HOLY-MORNING had in hſead,
To trip to Lynheath roie Mead.
He one hand laid in Boſom bare:
Her Cloaths faſt fluttered in Air.
[40] Sang he and whiſtled ore the SWEARD:
Sweard. Or, Graſs⯑platt.
She limber leap'd, as blith as Bird.
O dainty Violet! ſaid he,
Simp'ring, and ſtooping on the LEA,
Thee little Laſs, ah happy thee!
Adown her Boſom letten be.
Then, for he'd give a MEY the Flower,
The Stripling kiſt it o're and o're.
Lallet was meek and ſweet of Mein;
Tender as Evening Air ybeen.
Soothly, a-froſty Morns ſhe'll ſet
Her WINDOW ope, and much of Meat:
Then, oh how ſhe will cherrup fair,
The gentle BIRDS out eager Air.
[1]
Thus merry the two triped it:
I can but ſmile to think how ſweet!
Strait Fauney ſtep'd afore, to ſee
The where the ſofteſt Seat might be.
Abie Lin-heath yſpread's a BOUGH,
The ſweeteſt ſure the Bee doth know.
There uſe the Shepherds freſh yfare,
To bay their Boſoms in cool Air;
And ſip the Dew off SWEET-BREER ROSE:
There often Cubbinet too goes.
Now, ſweet the Swain here lay at eaſe;
Waiting the Lilly-footen Laſs.
She, slim-made PRETTY ONE, her hied
Over the Green, as brisk as Bride.
[42]
Her fine Dew-laping VEST, with Care,
One Hand did hold; one Flowerets fair
A-boſom put, ſoft Paps emong,
As ſoft, as Drop on Hawthorn hung.
The Shepherd ſaw her far away;
And ſweet ſhe ſliggar'd by my Fay!
Then ſimpering ſaid, as came anigh;
Oh what a merry Laſs am I!
He'll pick 'em all out, when doth ſee,
While I with's RINGLET HAIR may play!
He'll ſay I'm ſweeter, pick each Flower;
So I ſhall play amoſt an Hour!
Well was it ween'd now by my Fay;
O what a merry Laſs am I!
But ſhe off Fauney was ſo far,
That he no whit of this might hear.
[43]
Now they're together ſet ſo ſweet,
How ſhall I ſay how ſoft and ſweet!
The Swainet ope's his BREAST to th' Air;
And calls his Love to fan it fair.
Then for her Pains her Lip ſoft ſmack's,
And right's and ſmooth's her HONEY-LOCKS.
Sooth, now the Laſs gan like a Kiſs;
But claps her dimple Cheek to his,
And whiſper's ſoft, MUCH Marl I how,
Fauney, thou can'ſt love kiſſing ſo.
Thus lovely lay the gentle PAIR,
Soft as the Mid-day Goſſamer:
Strait Lallet riſes, and will hie
To gather STRAWBERRYS abie.
I prethee, ſaid ſhe, ſmiling ſweet,
Stay here, and here I'll ſee thee ſtrait.
[44]
She goes: The Shepherd ill can brook,
To loſe the Pleaſance of her LOOK.
But roſe anon; and Flowers gan pick,
Aſide a Spring, her Breaſt to deck.
Then down agen ſate on the SOFT;
And look'd for Lallet oft and oft.
O me! How fine a Flower is this;
Sooth ſhe ſhan't ha't without a Kiſs!
Elig'ring he ſaid; and pleas'd himſelf,
That he ſhould pleaſe his darling ELF.
Thus long he ſate; ſtill wondring why
She came not; but ſhe then was by;
The Laſs ſtood by; ſtood 'hind a BOUGH;
Laughing, to think what he would do,
When found the came not. Now, ſhe ſain,
Had I the Heart to give him Pain!
[45]
Emey I've heard ſay, I know not,
Love dearer be the dearer bought.
A little whit howe're I'll wait;
'Twill pain him but a little whit.
The gentle Shepherd eaſeleſs was;
Turning and ſhifting on the GRASS.
When Paplet ſaw he, YOUNGLING-LASS,
Soft of Heart and fair of Face.
Full far away he ſaw, and ran
To know if Lallet ſhe had ſeen;
And walk'd awith her, grieved ſore,
Till his own DEAR could ſee no more.
When Lallet ſaw, a-thro' her BOUGH,
The fair-framed he to Paplet go;
Ah God, how yearn'd the harmleſs Heart!
How griev'd, that ſhe ſhould give him ſmart!
[46]
But when he out of ſight did go,
Alaſs, ſhe knew not what to do.
For ſhamed after him to run,
Thinking he now was angry grown.
With pretty carefulneſs in Face,
Walk'd, ne knew where, the dainty Laſs.
Nought minding now her little CADE;
Though't ſtop't her, as afore her plaid.
Ne when ſhe made Mouth bleed with kick,
Left it, but ſoft her Footen lick.
Poor FOOL! It ſtay her would, tho' whip'd;
Mayſeem it lack'd ſo ſore be lip'd.
For't uſed lye in LAP elong,
And touch her Boſom with the Tongue.
Thus rov'd the dainty-leged Laſs,
All till the EVE drew on apace.
[47] Then down ſhe laid her Limbs ſo ſliek;
And to the cold Ground clap'd her Cheek.
Oh I hard Heart! I worſe than Wolf!
(Then ſaid) to pain ſo gentle ELF!
Ah how could I, how could I tho'
Go harm poor HEART? He work'd no Wo!—
But here do let me ſtop, for why,
I want to wipe my tearie Eye.

Scene 2. A GRASS-PLAT half encloſed by a Streamulet.

The Swain ſo ſoft (for ſoft be Swains)
Who pipes ſo pretty on the Plains;
I need'nt tell ye who he is,
The Laſſes know him by his KISS.
At Eve did come, with YOUNGLING MEY.
A-to the Grove where Lallet lay.
[48]
The why he hither came was this;
Paplet he won to take a Kiſs:
I'll have, quoth ſhe, a SONG for th' Kiſs;
Thou ſha't, quoth he, and one for this.
So here they came, as did befall,
To ſing elong with NIGHTINGALE.
Here Violets ypicketh he,
To deck the boſom of the MEY.
When lo! he hear's a murmuring tone;
May ſeem ſome Young Laſs made her moan.
Never will I, full well ywis,
Give pain agen! I've paid for this.
Oh, if he leaven love, ah god!
How ſhall I name a thing ſo bad?
Oh, if he leave to love farewell,
Farewell for ever, ought but Ill!
[49]
Heav'd the Swain's Breaſt for pity oft,
Unhappy Swain to be ſo ſoft!
Ached his Heart, to hear her ſmart,
Unhappy Swain to have ſuch Heart!
Ynethered he creeps anear,
Still as a Spirit or as Air.
But could not well tell where ſhe lay,
'Mongſt many a Breer and many a Tree,
Which dusk'd in GLOOM Moon's waining Ray;
Ah Lallet, how there can'ſt thou lay!
A Stream half cloſed a Plat of Graſs;
And made a ſweet a pleaſant Place.
Here (woe-the-worſe!) as nigh drew he,
He ſaw what made him ſad to ſee.
A gentle Laſs a-neath a BOUGH:
Should gentle Laſs be laid ſo low?
[50]
Twey Lips ſhe had, now ſooth I ſay,
Like CHERRIES, and as ſoft as they.
A dainty Bluſh on Cheek was too,
The prettieſt Bluſh, no MEYS bluſh ſo.
The harmleſs Shepherd to her ſped,
And took in Arms the harmleſs Maid.
But oh! when took in Arms the Laſs,
Witneſs me God, how wo he was!
And is it then? and is't quoth he,
Lallet, the gentle Lall I ſee?
The dainty Daughter of the GLEN?
Help me, ye Heavens, to ſpeak my Pain!
He ſtroak'd her Locks, all wet with Miſt,
Out Boſom, then her Boſom kiſt.
[51] Why ſooth 'twas ſoft, as Bird in Buſh,
He kiſt ſo ſoft, and bad not bluſh.
Yſoothing breath'd the ſweet-lip'd Air
On pretty Paps, and waved her Hair.
In VEST her Face ſhe wimpled.
On tender Boſom hung the Head.
Tell me, ye gentle STRIPLINGS tell!
If ſuiten Laſs ſo lovely wail?
O tell me! ſhould ſhe, ay or on,
Letten the Air her VEST yblow?
Her ſlender VEST the Air ſo blew,
That might ſee lilly Limbs athro'.
Cubbin was griev'd, ye can't think how,
To ſee her ſoil her Beauty ſo.
Her Beauty freſh gan Bloom, and 'ope
Its baſhful Boſom to th' DEW-DROP.
[52] Her pretty Paps, like cluſtring Grapes,
A-thro' her VEST ſoft ſhow'd their Shapes.
Then did the Swain, ſo fair and fine,
Ywipe her Tears out pretty Eyen.
Set her more ſoft, and ſoothing ſweet,
Ask'd her how could ſo fair CHEEKS wet?
He chears; but ah! ſhe will no chear;
Down drops her Head on Boſom bare.
Chiding the gentle NIGHTINGALE,
That ſang ſo ſoft its ſofteſt Tale.
Then Paplet ask'd het this and that;
Who gave her grieve? Why ſo ſhe ſate?
The ſloe-eyed SWEET ONE noted none;
But looked at the waining Moon.
[53]
Tho' little SPARROW with her was,
And ſoft it ſate in Neck of Laſs.
Sooth, in her lilly Face 'twould look,
A pretty fliggar when ſhe ſpoak.
See the ſweet FON, quoth YOUNGLING-MEY;
I prethee turn and with it play!
Alack the Day! quoth Lallet fair,
The lovely Lad will love elſewhere!
And clap'd her Face to th' dewie Graſs,
The faireſt Face that ever was.
The ſweet Balm-breathing Paplet chear'd,
Soft as the Song of EVENING BIRD.
Then ſtroaked up the Locks of th' Laſs;
And ſpoak her thus as gave a kiſs.
Paplet.
[54]
Poor DEAR! It gives me pine with pain,
To ſee poor DEAR ſo wond'rous wain.
Ah wo-a-way! Come gentle Maid,
In Paplet's Boſom loll thy Head!
Come, ſoft thy careful Caſe CHILD tell.
And can a Lover give ſuch wail?
Lallet.
Oh, had I pained but my ſelf,
Inſtead of him, poor harmleſs ELF!
Paplet.
See, Laſs! that pretty Springlet fair!
Hark, how ſweet chirp's the GRASSHOPPER!
There ſet we, SWEET! There may'ſt thou tell,
On ſofteſt Flowers, thy tender Tale.
Lallet.
Ah what are Flowers or Spring to me:
Oh good! how fair my LAD would lay!
[55] How looſe we lean'd the livelong Day!
How wont I with his Boſom play!
Her dainty CHEEK, with that ſame Word,
From off the Green ſhe pertly rear'd.
But as gan think what ſhe had done,
Poor HEART down flapped it agen.
The dabling DEW fell all emong,
Her buding Breaſts ſo fair and young;
Her buding Breaſts, that bloomie grew,
Soft ſhrinked at the dabling DEW.
At lenth, howe're, the tender Twey
Won her to riſe from off the LEA.
Quoth Cubbin, Prethee to my COTT,
Let's go; refreſh thee there awhit.
[56]
Oh no, ſaid ſhe, I late did pain
The lovelieſt Lad, the ſweeteſt Swain:
Not for the World! might he not now,
To know I'm there, be grieved too?
But thro' the Grove ſhe trip'd it, and
The Shepherd lead her by the Hand.

Scene 3. A CAVE in middle of the Wood.

The gentle Lad, and Laſs ſo fair,
Thus ſoft did ſooth, for ſoft they were:
His Lips gan bloom with tender Hair,
Her Paps yſprouted freſh and fair.
At lenth the wailing SWEET ONE they
Bring where ſhe ſafe and looſe might lay.
A Cave there is by IDLEHILL,
Ye know the Place where Shepherds loll:
There Fauney often goes; I gueſs,
To hear the Lark, or toy with Laſs.
[57]
A SWEETBREER dainty o're it ſpread;
That Roſes bore, and caſt a Shade.
Abie it ran a Rivolet;
Painted with Sky and Flowers ſo ſweet.
To this the lilly-finger'd Laſs,
Soft wailing, pointed as did paſs.
May ſeem ſhe wiſh'd to ſet in th' CAVE;
Her Love might thither hap to rove.
Thither the Silver-ſhapen Laſs,
Soft triped it with eaſy Pace.
The SHRUBS afore her ſprinkled Dew;
As eaſy Air atween 'em flew.
Thro' Boughs the MOONLIGHT fair beſeen,
Sweet checkered the Graſſie Green.
Cubbin went firſt to make the way;
And after trip'd the fine-limb MEY.
[58]
Firſt gan ope Lip the little Laſs,
The ſweeteſt Lip that ever was.
See, gentle WAILER; See, my SWEET!
I've crop'd a Roſe and Violet.
Here let me ſtick it in thy Breaſt!
She ſtuck it there, and then it kiſt.
Well were, quoth Cubbin (all elong
Laying him ſoft) we had a SONG.
Paplet ſhall ſhrill ſome lovely Lay;
And Paplet's ſweet as Musk in May.
Then firſt the Dew-eye'd Wailer rear'd,
Her hanging Head as quick as Bird.
She lack'd 'em ſore to ſing, I weet,
Of Fauney; yet was ſhamed to ſay't.
Agreed, quoth ſweet-lip'd Paplet quick;
But thou thy UNDERSONG ſha't make.
[59] And ſure we ſo ſhall Lallet pleaſe.
You lye on that ſide I on this.
Paplet.
Paplet [...] Cubbin's Song to Lallet.
Ariſe my FAIR ONE, come away!
Freſh be the Flowers the Groves as gay.
Early ariſe, e're LARK gin's ſing!
We'll ſee how well the VIOLETS ſpring.
Cubbin.
Come FAIR ONE, be thou like the Roe!
That leaping o're the HILLS doth go.
Come down the Gardens, to the Grove!
We'll hear the TURTLE in his Love.
Then FAUNEY ſang they, what he was;
And could ſuch Lad 'ere leave his Laſs?
Paplet.
Fauney doth rove like airy ROE;
Arm'd with a Quiver and a Bow.
[60] In every SHADE he ſoft doth ſet;
And bay's in every STREAMULET.
Cubbin.
Fauney's the Joy of every Laſs;
All meek's his Mind as fair his Face.
Fauney is freſh as EVENING-SKY;
With ſmall red Mouth and twinkling Eye.
Then ſoft they ſang to ſhew the Laſs,
No ſlight Miſhaps made Love the leſs.
Paplet.
Once clomb I for MAYBOUGH, by hap,
Cuddleit, the while, abie did trip.
He help'd me down, and ſooth'd me ſweet;
Shrew me if w'ont agen up get!
Cubbin.
Once Soflin tript, and fell elong;
I ſpy'd her lye ſweet Flowers emong:
[61] A KISS I gave her as ſhe lay;
Then lift her up and went away.
Thus ſang the TWEY their tender Tale;
Sweet as the Breath of NIGHTINGALE.
While the fair Wailer lowly laid,
And hung adown her pretty Head.
Then Cubbin took the Hand of th' Laſs,
And ſaid, ſoft-ſmiling in her Face.
I prethee Lallet go with me!
Why Fauney's far enough away!
Oh, kind my Lad! Leave ask, quoth ſhe;
Or bid go lye on yon wet LEA!
Could I have Heart to pain poor ELE▪
And ſhan't I have to pain my ſelf?
She ſaid; ſmall thinking how the while
Fauney was near: Soft did he ſmile,
[62] To hear the gentle-hearted Laſs▪
In VEST ſhe wrapt her lilly Face.
Forth crep he ſoft, of lovely Look;
Pleas'd as the hunted HART at Brook.
Cubbin and Paplet beck'ned firſt;
Then claſpt his Arms round Lallet's WASTE.
So looſe her held the roſie Boy,
That ſhe not dreamed any nigh.
Anon adown her ſelf ſhe threw,
And gan to weep and wail anew.
Ah God! but how ſhe looked then!
Is it? and is't my gentle SWAIN?
Like ſtarted Hare ſhe leap'd aloft;
Like eaſy Sleep he ſeiz'd her ſoft.
[63] Together thro' the WOOD they paſs;
With eachen Lad his pretty Laſs.
Merry as Lamkins on the LEA,
And well ye know how merry they.
So, all is well agen then now,
Lallet's as pleas'd as Bird on Bough.
Then what remains, ye STRIPLINGS, now;
But that you ſmile and be ſo too?
More bleſs'd to make's alone in you;
Can ye diſlike what LASSES do?
Much Wo has had the fairfaced DEAR,
Do, pity her becauſe ſhe's fair.
The End of the Second Paſtoral.
[]

N. B. THE Writer of theſe Pieces, has ſeveral of the like by him. His Friends were very im⯑portunate for their attending theſe into the World. But he thought if he could find Pardon for thruſting two upon the TOWN, 'twould be Honour enough. Nor had he conſented ſo far▪ but thro' their repreſenting to him, that Innocence and Simplicity were here ſet in an engag⯑ing Light. And would any one, thro' this ſlight At⯑tempt, have a kinder Thought of that harmleſs Modeſty in our CHARACTERS; or be hereby induced to de⯑ſire our Age might, in ſome meaſure, reſemble thoſe drawn; our young Swain would think his firſt Step not entirely taken amiſs.

FINIS.
Notes
†
See DION. HALICARN: who admires him on that Ac⯑count.
§
See Guardians. N: 22, 23, 30 and 40.
*
Among other places, in the Preface to her HOMER.
†
Folio Edition.
1
Line 1. YFED. a, and y (pronounc'd as e) before Words, and en, et and ie, after, are for ſoftneſs of ſound.
2
Line 12. A ſoft-aged MEY. or MAI; the D left out; is here uſed for one younger than we commonly mean by the Word MAID, ſuppoſe a Laſs of 13 or 14 Years old. Tho' Chaucer uſes it indifferently, as it has not the vulgarneſs of Maid, and is of a ſound particularly ſweet and ſimple.
3
Line 3. Paplet, a Christian's, &c. She would have diſ⯑cover'd their Marriage, and occaſion'd the JEWES's Death by their Laws.
4
Line 7. And well Iwis, &c. The Words, WIS, WEET, and WEEN, all ſignify to think or imagin.
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TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5099 Pastorals After the simple manner of Theocritus By Mr Purney. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5D09-3