et as love itself. Montano, hark!
_Mir._ This way she came, and this way too she went;
How each thing smells divinely redolent!
Like to a field of beans when newly blown,
Or like a meadow being lately mown.
_Mon._ A sweet-sad passion----
_Mir._ In dewy mornings when she came this way
Sweet bents would bow to give my love the day;
And when at night she folded had her sheep,
Daisies would shut, and, closing, sigh and weep.
Besides (ay me!) since she went hence to dwell,
The voices' daughter ne'er spake syllable.
But she is gone. _Sil._ Mirtillo, tell us whither.
_Mir._ Where she and I shall never meet together.
_Mon._ Forfend it Pan, and, Pales, do thou please
To give an end. _Mir._ To what? _Sil._ Such griefs as these.
_Mir._ Never, O never! Still I may endure
The wound I suffer, never find a cure.
_Mon._ Love for thy sake will bring her to these hills
And dales again. _Mir._ No, I will languish still;
And all the while my part shall be to weep,
And with my sighs, call home my bleating sheep:
And in the rind of every comely tree
I'll carve thy name, and in that name kiss thee.
_Mon._ Set with the sun thy woes. _Sil._ The day grows old,
And time it is our full-fed flocks to fold.
_Chor._ The shades grow great, but greater grows our sorrow;
But let's go steep
Our eyes in sleep,
And meet to weep
To-morrow.

_Quintell_, quintain or tilting board.
_Bents_, grasses.
_Pales_, the goddess of sheepfolds.

422. THE POET LOVES A MISTRESS, BUT NOT TO MARRY.

I do not love to wed,
Though I do like to woo;
And for a maidenhead
I'll beg and buy it too.

I'll praise and I'll approve
Those maids that never vary;
And fervently I'll love,
But yet I would not marry.

I'll hug, I'll kiss, I'll play,
And, cock-like, hens I'll tread,
And sport it any way
But in the bridal bed.

For why? that man is poor
Who hath but one of many,
But crown'd he is with store
That, single, may have any.

Why then, say, what is he,
To freedom so unknown,
Who, having two or three,
Will be content with one?

425. THE WILLOW GARLAND.

A willow garland thou did'st send
Perfum'd, last day, to me,
Which did but only this port