There a straunge shepheard chaunst to finde me out,

Whether allured with my pipes delight,

60

Whose pleasing sound yshrilled far about,
Or thither led by chaunce, I know not right:
Whom when I asked from what place he came,
And how he hight, himselfe he did ycleepe 65
The hepheard of the Ocean by name,

And said he came far from the main-sea deepe.
He, sitting me beside in that same shade,
Provoked me to plaie some pleasant fit;

And when he heard the musicke which I made,
He found himselfe full greatly pleasd at it: 71
Yet, æmuling my pipe, he tooke in hond
My pipe, before that æmuled of many,
And plaid thereon; (for well that

cond ;)

Himself as skilfull in that art as any.

skill he

75 He pip'd, I sung; and, when he sung, I piped; By chaunge of turns, each making other mery; Neither envying other, nor envied,

So piped we, until we both were weary."

80

There interrupting him, a bonie swaine, That Cuddy hight, him thus atweene bespake: "And, should it not thy ready course restraine, I would request thee, Colin! for my sake, To tell what thou didst sing, when he did plaie; For well weene it worth recounting was, 85 Whether it were some hymne, or morail laie, Or carol made to praise thy loved lasse."

90

"Nor of my love, nor of my lasse" (quoth he,) "I then did sing, as then occasion fell: For love had me forlorne, forlorne of me, That made me in that desart choose to dwell. But of my river Bregogs love I soong, Which to the shiny Mulla he did beare, And yet doth beare, and ever will, so long As water doth within his bancks appear."

95

"Of fellowship," (said then that bony boy,) "Record to us that lovely lay againe:

The staie whereof shall nought these ears annoy, Who all that Colin makes do covet faine:

"Hear then," (quoth he,)" the tenor of my tale,

In sort as I it to that Shepheard told :

No leasing new, nor grandams fable stale,

100

But auntient truth, confirm'd with credence old. "Old Father Mole; ( Mole hight that moun

tain gray

That walls the north-side of Armulla dale;) 105
He had a daughter fresh as floure of May,

Which gave that name unto that pleasant vale;
Mulla, the daughter of old Mole, so hight
The nimph, which of that water-course has charge,
That springing out of Mole, doth run downe right
To Buttevant, where, spreading forth at large,
It giveth name unto that auntient cittie,
Which Kilnemullah cleped is of old;

Whose cragged ruines breed great ruth and pittie
To travailers which it from far behold.

115

Full faine she lov'd, and was belov'd full faine
Of her owne brother river, Bregog hight,
So hight because of this deceitfull traine,
Which he with Mulla wrought to win delight.
But her old sire, more carefull of her good, 120
And meaning her much better to preferre,
Did thinke to match her with the neighbour
flood,

Which Allo hight, Broad-water called farre,—
And wrought so well, with his continuall pain,
That he that river for his daughter wonne; 125
The dowre agreed, the day assigned plaine,
The place appointed where it should be doone.
Nath'lesse the nymph her former liking held;
For Love will not be drawne, but must be ledde;
And Bregog did so well her fancie weld, 130
That her good-will he got her first to wedde.
But for her father, sitting still on hie,
Did warily still watch which way she went,
And eke from far observ'd, with iealous eie,
Which way his course the wanton Bregog bent :-
Him to deceive, for all his watchfull ward,
The wily lover did devise this slight;
First into many parts his streame he shar'd,

136

That, whilest the one was watcht, the other

might,

Passe unespide to meete her by the way;

140

And then, besides, those little streames, so broken,

He under ground so closely did convay,

That of their passage doth appeare no token,

145

Till they into the Mullaes water slide. So secretly did he his love enioy,Yet not so secret, but it was descride, And told her father by a shepheards boy. Who, wondrous wroth for that so foul despight, In great avenge did roll downe from his hill Huge mighty stones, the which encomber might Eis passage, and his water-courses spill. So of a river which he was of old,

151

He none was made, but scattred all to nought;
And, lost emong those rocks into him rold, 154
Did lose his name: so deare his love he bought."
Which having said, him Thestylis bespake;
Now by my life this was a mery lay,
Worthie of Colin selfe, that did it make.
But read now eke, of friendship I thee pray,
What dittie did that other shepheard sing:
For I do covet most the same to heare,
As men use most to covet forreine thing."
"That shall I eke" (quoth he) "to you declare.
His song was all a lamentable lay

Of great unkindnesse and of usage hard,

Of Cynthia the ladie of the sea,

160

165

Which from her presence faultlesse him debard. And ever and anon, with singulfs rife,

Then gan a gentle bony lasse to speake, That Marin hight. "Right well he sure did plaine,

That could greatCynthiaes sore displeasure breake, And move to take him to her grace againe. 175 But tell on further, Colin! as befell

"Twixt him and thee, what thee did hence dissuade ?"

"When thus our pipes we both had wearied well,"

180

(Quoth he,)" and each an end of singing made,
He gan to cast great lyking to my lore,
And great dislyking to my lucklesse lot,
That banisht had my selfe, like wight forelore,
Into that waste, where I was quite forgot.
The which to leave, thenceforth he counseld mee,
Unmeet for man, in whom was ought regardfull,
And wend with him, his Cynthia to see; 186
Whose grace was great,and bounty most rewardfull,
Besides her peerlesse skill in making well,
And all the ornaments of wondrous wit,
Such as all womankynd did far excell;
Such as the world admyr'd, and praised it :
So what with hope of good, and hate of ill,
He me perswaded forth with him to fare,
Nought tooke I with me, but mine oaten quill:
Small needments else need shepherds to prepare:
So to the sea we came; the sea, that is
A world of waters heaped up on hie,

Rolling like mountains in wild wildernesse,
Horrible, hideous, roaring with hoarse crie."

190

196