The Shepheardes Calender:
December
Note on
this Renascence
Editions text:
This
edition
is copyright © The University
of
Oregon; it is distributed for scholarly and nonprofit purposes
only. Risa S. Bear
December.
Ægloga
Duodecima.
A R G
V M E N
T.
THis
Æglogue
(euen as the first beganne) is ended with a complaynte of Colin to God
Pan. wherein as weary of his former wayes, he proportioneth his life to
the foure seasons of the yeare, comparing hys youthe to the spring
time,
when he was fresh and free form loues follye. His manhoode to the
sommer,
which he sayth, was consumed with greate heate and excessiue drouth
caused
through a Comet or blasinge starre, by which he meaneth loue, which
passion
is comenly compared to such flames and immoderate heate. His riper
yeares
hee resembleth to an vnseasonable harueste wherein the fruites fall ere
they be rype. His latter age to winters chyll & frostie season, now
drawing neare to his last ende.
He
gentle shepheard satte beside a springe,
All in the shadowe of a
bushy brere,
That Colin hight,
which wel
could pype and singe,
For he of Tityrus
his songs did lere.
There as he satte in
secreate shade
alone,
Thus gan he make of loue his
piteous
mone.
O soueraigne Pan
thou
God of shepheards all,
Which of our tender Lambkins
takest keepe:
And when our flocks into
mischaunce
mought fall,
Doest save from mischeife
the vnwary
sheepe:
Als
of their
maisters hast no lesse regarde,
Then of the flocks, which
thou doest
watch and ward:
I thee beseche (so
be thou deigne
to heare,
Rude ditties tund to
shepheards
Oaten reede,
Or if I euer sonet song so
cleare,
As it with pleasaunce mought
thy
fancie feede)
Hearken awhile from thy
greene cabinet,
The rurall song of carefull Colinet.
Whilome in youth,
when flowrd
my ioyfull spring,
Like Swallow swift I wandred
here
and there:
For heate of heedlesse lust
me so
did sting,
That I of doubted daunger
had no
feare.
I went the wastefull woodes
and
forest wyde,
Withouten dreade of Wolues
to bene
espyed.
I wont to raunge
amydde the mazie
thickette,
And gather nuttes to make me
Christmas
game:
And ioyed oft to chace the
trembling
Pricket,
Or hunt the hartlesse hare,
til
shee were tame.
What wreaked I of wintrye
ages waste,
Tho deemed I, my spring
would euer
laste.
How often haue I
scaled the
craggie Oke,
All to dislodge the Rauen of
her
neste:
Howe haue I wearied with
many a
stroke,
The stately Walnut tree, the
while
the rest
Vnder the tree fell all for
nuts
at strife:
For ylike to me was libertee
and
lyfe.
And for I was in
thilke same
looser yeares,
(Whether the Muse so wrought
me
from my birth,
Or I tomuch beleeued my
shepherd peres)
Somedele ybent to song and musicks
mirth,
A good olde shephearde, Wrenock
was his name,
Made me by arte more cunning
in
the same.
Fro thence I durst
in derring
[doe] compare
With shepheards swayne, what
euer
fedde in field:
And if that Hobbinol
right
iudgement bare,
To Pan his owne
selfe pype
I neede not yield.
For if the flocking Nymphes
did
folow Pan,
The wiser Muses after Colin
ranne.
But ah such pryde
at length
was ill repayde,
The shepheards God (perdie
God was
he none)
My hurtlesse pleasaunce did
me ill
vpbraide,
My freedome lorne, my life
he lefte
to mone.
Loue they him called, that
gaue
me checkmate,
But better mought they haue
behote
him Hate.
Tho gan my louely
Spring bid
me farewel,
And Sommer season sped him
to display
(For loue then in the Lyons
house did dwell)
The raging fyre, that
kindled at his
ray.
A
comett
stird vp that vnkindly heate,
That reigned (as men sayd)
in Venus
seate.
Forth was I ledde,
not as I
wont afore,
When choise I had to choose
my wandring
waye:
But whether luck and loues
vnbridled
lore
Would leade me forth on
Fancies
bitte to playe:
The bush my bedde, the
bramble was
my bowre,
The Woodes can witnesse many
a wofull
stowre.
Where
I was wont to seeke the honey Bee,
Working her formall rowmes
in Wexen
frame:
The grieslie Todestool
growne there
mought I se
And loathed Paddocks lording
on the same.
And where the chaunting
birds luld
me a sleepe,
The ghastlie Owle her
grieuous ynne
doth keepe.
Then
as
the springe giues place to elder time,
And bringeth forth the
fruite of
sommers pryde:
Also my age now passed
yougthly
pryme,
To thinges of ryper reason
selfe
applyed.
And learnd of lighter timber
cotes
to frame,
Such as might saue my sheepe
and
me fro shame.
To make fine cages
for the
Nightingale,
And Baskets of bulrushes was
my
wont:
Who to entrappe the fish in
winding sale
Was better seene, or hurtful
beastes
to hont?
I learned als the signes of
heauen
to ken,
How Phoebe
sayles, where Venus sittes and when.
And tryed time yet
taught me
greater thinges,
The sodain rysing of the raging
seas:
The soothe
of byrds by beating of their wings,
The power of
herbs, both which can hurt and ease:
And which be wont tenrage
the restlesse
sheepe,
And which be wont to worke
eternall
sleepe.
But ah vnwise and
witlesse Colin
cloute,
That kydst
the hidden kinds of many a wede:
Yet kydst not ene to cure
thy sore
hart roote,
Whose ranckling wound as yet
does
rifely bleede.
Why liuest thou stil, and
yet hast
thy deathes wound?
Why dyest thou stil, and yet
aliue
art founde?
Thus
is my sommer worne away and wasted,
Thus is my haruest hastened
all
to rathe:
The eare
that
budded faire, is burnt & blasted,
And all my hoped gaine is
turned
to scathe.
Of all the seede, that in my
youth
was sowne,
Was nought but brakes and
brambles
to be mowne.
My boughes with
bloosmes that
crowned were at firste,
And promised of timely
fruite such
store,
Are left both bare and
barrein now
at erst:
The flattring fruite is
fallen to
grownd before.
And rotted, ere they were
halfe
mellow ripe:
My haruest wast, my hope
away dyd
wipe.
The
fragrant flowres, that in my garden grewe,
Bene withered, as they had
bene
gathered long.
Theyr rootes bene dryed vp
for lacke
of dewe,
Yet dewed with teares they
han be euer
among.
Ah who has wrought my Ro[s]alind
this spight
To spil the flowres, that
should
her girlond dight,
And I, that whilome
wont to
frame my pype,
Vnto the shifting of the
shepheards
foote:
Sike follies nowe haue
gathered
as too ripe,
And cast hem out, as rotten
an vnsoote.
The loser Lasse I cast to
please
nomore,
One if I please, enough is
me therefore.
And thus of all my
haruest
hope I haue
Nought reaped but a weedye
crop
of care:
Which, when I thought haue
thresht
in swelling sheaue,
Cockel for corne, and chaffe
for
barley bare.
Soone as the chaffe should
in the
fan be fynd,
All was blowne away of the
wauering
wynd.
So
now my yeare drawes to his latter terme,
My spring is spent, my
sommer burnt
vp quite:
My harueste hasts to stirre
vp winter
sterne,
And bids him clayme with
rigorous
rage hys right.
So nowe he stormes with many
a sturdy
stoure,
So now his blustring blast
eche
coste doth scoure.
The carefull
cold hath nypt my rugged rynde,
And in my face deepe
furrowes eld
hath pight:
My head besprent with hoary
frost I fynd,
And by myne eie the Crow his
clawe
dooth wright.
Delight is layd abedde, and
pleasure
past,
No sonne now shines, cloudes
han
all ouercast.
Now leaue ye
shepheards boyes
yo[u]r merry glee,
My Muse is hoarse and weary
of thys
stounde:
Here will I hang my pype
vpon this
tree,
Was neuer pype of reede did
better
sounde.
Winter is come, that blowes
the
bitter blaste,
And after Winter dreerie
death does
hast.
Gather ye together
my little
flocke,
My little flock, that was to
me
so liefe:
Let me, ah lette me in your
folds
ye lock,
Ere the breme
Winter breede you greater griefe.
Winter is come, that blowes
the
balefull breath,
And after Winter commeth
timely
death.
Adieu
delightes, that lulled me asleepe,
Adieu my deare, whose loue I
bought
so deare:
Adieu my little Lambes and
loued
sheepe,
Adieu ye Woodes that oft my
witnesse
were:
Adieu good Hobbinol,
that
was so true,
Tell Rosalind, her Colin
bids her adieu.
Colins
Embleme.
[Vivitur
ingenio, caetera
mortis erunt.]
GLOSSE.
Tityrus)
Chaucer as hath bene oft sayd.
Lambkins)
young lambes.
Als
of their) Semeth to expresse Virgils verse. Pan curat oues ouiumque
magistros.
Deigne)
voutchsafe.
[C]abinet)Colinet)
dimi nutines.
Mazie)
For they be like to a maze whence it is hard to get out agayne.
Peres)
felowes and companions.
Musick)
that is Poetry as Terence sayth Qui artem tractant musicam, speking of
Poetes.
]Derring
doe) aforesayd.
Lions
house) He imagineth simply that Cupid, which is loue, had his abode in
the whote signe Leo, which is in middest of somer; a pretie allegory,
whereof
the meaning is, that loue in him wrought an extaordinarie heate of lust.
His
ray) which is Cupids beame or flames of Loue.
A
Comete) a blasing starre, meant of beautie, which was the cause of his
whote loue.
Venus)
the goddesse of beauty or pleasure. Also a signe in heauen, as it is
here
taken. So he meaneth that beautie, which hath alwayes aspect to Venus,
was the cause of all his vnquietnes in loue.
Where
I was) a fine description of the chaunge of hys lyfe and liking, for
all
things nowe seemed to hym to have altered their kindly course.
Lording)
Spoken after the manner of Paddocks and Frogges sitting which is indeed
Lordly, not remouing nor looking once aside, vnlesse they be sturred.
Then
as) The second part. That is his manhoode.
Cotes)
sheepecotes. for such be the exercises of the shepheards.
Sale)
or Salow a kind of woodde like the wyllow, fit to wreath and bynde in
leapes
to catch fish withall.
Phoebe
sayles) The Eclipse of the Moone, which is alwayes in Cauda or Capite
Draconis,
signes in heauen.
Venus)
.s. Venus starre, otherwise called Hesperus and Vesper and Lucifer,
both
because he seemeth to be one of the brightest starres, and also first
ryseth
and setteth last. All which still in starres being conuenient for
shepheardes
to knowe as Theocritus and the rest vse.
Raging
seaes) The cause of the swelling and ebbing of the sea commeth of the
course
of the Moone, sometime encreasing, sometime wayning and decreasing.
Sooth
of byrdes) A kind of sooth saying vsed in elder tymes, which they
gathered
by the flying of byrds; First (as is sayd) [in]vented by the Thuscanes
and from them deriued to the Romanes, who (as is sayd in Liuie) were so
supersticiously rooted in the same, that they agreed that euery Noble
man
should put his sonne to the Thuscanes, by them to be brought vp in that
knowledge.
Of
herbes) That wonderous thinges be wrought by herbes, aswell appeareth
by
the common working of them in our bodies, as also by the wonderful
enchauntments
and sorceries that haue bene wrought by them; insomuch that it is sayde
that Circe a famous sorceresee turned men into sondry kinds of beastes
& Monsters, and onely by herbes: as the Poete sayth Dea saeua
potentibus
herbis &c.
Kidst)
knewest.
Eare)
of corne.
Scathe)
losse hinderaunce.
Euer
among) Euer and anone.
This
is my) The thyrde parte wherein is set forth his ripe yeres as an
vntimely
haruest, that bringeth little fruite.
The
f[r]agraunt flowres) sundry studies and laudable partes of learning,
wherein
how our Poete is seene, be they witnesse which are priuie to his study.
So now
my yeare) The last part, wherein is described his age by comparison of
wyntrye stormes.
Carefull
cold) for care is sayd to coole the blood.
Glee[)]
mirth[.]
Hoary
frost) A metaphore of hoary heares scattred lyke to a gray frost.
Breeme)
sharpe and bitter.
Adiew
delights) is a conclusion of all. where in sixe verses he comprehendeth
briefly all that was touched on in this booke. In the first verse his
delights
of youth generally. in the second, the loue of Rosalind, in the thyrd,
the keeping of the sheepe, which is the argument of all Æglogues.
In the fourth his complaints. And in the last two his professed
frendship
and good will to his good friend Hobbinoll.
Embleme.
The meaning
whereof
is that all thinges perish and come to theyr last end, but workes of
learned
wits and monuments of Poetry abide for euer. And therefore Horace of
his
Odes a work though ful indeede of great wit & learning, yet of no
so
great weight and importaunce boldly sayth.
Exigi
monimentum
aere perennius,
Quod noc
imber nec
aquilo vorax &c.
Therefore let
not be enuied,
that this Poete in his Epilogue sayth he hath mad a Calendar, that
shall
endure as long as time &c. folowing the example of Horace and Ouid
in the like.
Grande
Opus
exegi quae nec Iouis ira nec ignis,
Nec ferum
poterit
nec edax abolere vetustas &c.
Loe I haue made
a Calender
for euery yeare,
That steele in strength,
and
time in durance shall outweare:
And if I marked well the
starres
reuolution,
It shall continewe till
the worlds
dissolution.
To teach the ruder
shepheard
how to feed his sheepe,
And from the falsers
fraud his
folded flocke to keepe.
Goe lyttle Calender, thou
hast
a free passeporte,
Goe but a lowly gate
emongste
the meaner sorte.
Dare not to match thy
pipe with
Tityrus his style,
Nor with the Pilgrim that
the
Ploughman playde a whyle:
But followe them farre
off, and
their high steppes adore,
The better please, the
worse
despise, I aske nomore.
Merce
non mercede.
Imprinted
at London by Hugh
Singleton,
dwelling
in Creede lane
at the signe of the gylden
Tunn neere vnto
Ludgate.
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