Ill mynd so much to mynd anothers ill,
As to become unmyndfull of his owne.
But pardon that unto the cruell skies,
That from himselfe to them withdrew his eyes.
So as he rag'd emongst that beastly rout,
A cruel beast, of most accursed brood,
Upon him turnd, (despeyre makes cowards stout,)
And, with fell tooth, accustomed to blood,
Launched his thigh with so mischievous might,
That it both bone and muscles ryved quight. 120
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 captive heard his nets did rend, 125
And having none to let, to wood did wend.
Ah! where were ye,this while, his shepheard peares,
To whom alive was nought so deare as hee:
And ye faire Maids! the matches of his yeares,
Which in his grace did boast you most to bee! 130
Ah! where were ye, when he of you had need.
To stop his wound, that wondrously did bleed!
Ah! wretched Boy! the shape of dreryhead,
And sad ensample of mans suddein end:
Full litle faileth but thou shalt be dead,
Unpitied, unplaynd, or foe or frend!
Whilest none is nigh, thine eylids up to close,
And kisse thy lips like faded leaves of rose.
A sort of shepheards sewing of the chace,
As they the forest raunged on a day,
By Fate or Fortune came unto the place,
Where as the lucklesse boy yet bleeding lay;
Yet bleeding lay, and yet would still have 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: 146
Tho (as he wild) unto his loved lasse;
His dearest love, him dolefully did beare:
The dolefulst biere that ever man did see
Was Astrophel, but dearest unto mee!
She, when she saw her love in such a plight,
With crudled blood and filthie gore deformed,
That wont to be with flowers and gyrlonds dight,
And her deare favours dearly well adorned;
Her face the fairest face that eye mote see, 155
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 fiersely tore, and with outragious wrong
From her red cheeks the roses rent away:
And her fair brest, the threasury of ioy,
She spoyld thereof, and filled with annoy.
His palled face, impictured with death,
She bathed oft with teares, and dried oft: 164
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 only by his lookes did tell his thought.
The rest of her impatient regret,
And piteous mone the which she for him made,
No tongue can tell, nor any forth can set,
But he whose heart like sorrow did invade.
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, 175
But after him did make untimely haste:
Forth-with her ghost out of her corps did flit,
And followed her make, like turtle chaste:
To prove that death their hearts cannot divide,
Which, living, were in love so firmly tide.
The gods, which all things see, this same beheld,
And, pitying this pair of lovers true,
Transformed them, there lying on the field,
Into one flowre, that is both red and blue:
It first growes red, and then to blew doth fade, 185
Like Astrophel, which thereinto was made.
And in the midst thereof a star appeares,
As fairly formd as any star in skyes:
Resembling Stella in her freshest yeares,
Forth darting beames of beautie from her eyes; 190
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-ever thou doest finde the same,
From this day forth do call it Astrophel:
And, when so ever thou it up doest take,
Do pluck it softly, for that shepheards sake.
Hereof when tydings far abroad did passe,
The shepheards all, which loved him full deare,
And sure full deare of all he loved 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 every one did make exceeding mone,
With inward anguish and great griefe opprest:
And every one did weep, and waile, and mone,
And meanes devizd 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,
That gentlest shepheardesse that lives 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.
Ay me! to whom shall I my case complaine, That may compassion my impatient griefe! 'Or where shall i unfold my inward paine, That my enriven heart may find reliefe! Shall I unto the heavenly powres it show? Or unto earthly men that dwell below?
To heavens? ah! they, alas! the authors were,
And workers, of my unremédied wo:
For they foresee what to us happens here, 225
And they foresaw, yet suffred this be so. [il,
From them comes good, from them comes also
"That which they made, who can them warne to
[spill!
To men? ah! they, alas! like wretched bee,
And subiect to the Heavens ordinance, 230
Bound to abide what ever they decree;
Their best redresse is their best sufferance.
"How then can they, like wretched, comfort mee, The which no lesse need comforted to bee?
Then to my selfe will I my sorrow mourne, 235
Sith none alive like sorrowfull remaines:
And to my selfe my plaints shall back retourne,
To pay their usury with double paines.
The woods, the hills, the river, shall resound
The mournfull accent of my sorrowes ground.
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