Classic Poem

[SCENE XV.]

Enter N ERONIS in the forest, in man's apparel .

Nero. As hare the hound, as lamb the wolf, as fowl the falcon's dint,
So do I fly from tyrant he, whose heart more hard than flint
Hath sack'd on me such hugy heaps of ceaseless sorrows here,
That sure it is intolerable the torments that I bear.
Neronis, ah, who knoweth thee a princess to be born,
Since fatal gods so frowardly thy fortune do adorn?
Neronis, ah, who knoweth her in painful page's show?
But no good lady will me blame which of my case doth know,
But rather, when they hear the truth wherefore I am disguised,
They'll say it is an honest shift the which I have devised;
Since I have given my faith and troth to such a bruit of fame
As is the Knight of the Golden Shield, and tyrants seek to frame
Their engines to detract our vows, as the King of Norway hath,
Who of all princes living now I find devoid of faith:
For, like a wolf in lambskin clad, he cometh with his aid,
All merchant-like, to father's court, and 'ginneth to persuade
That he had precious jewels brought, which in his ship did lie,
Whereof he will'd me take my choice, if case I would them buy;
Then I, mistrusting no deceit, with handmaids one or two,
With this deceitful merchant then unto the ship did go
No sooner were we under hatch but up they hois'd their sail,
And, having then to serve their turn a merry western gale,
We were lash'd out from the haven, lo, a dozen leagues and more,
When still I thought the bark had been at anchor by the shore.
But being brought by Norway here, not long in court I was,
But that to get from thence away I brought this feat to pass;
For making semblance unto him as though I did him love,
He gave me liberty or aught that served for my behove;
And having liberty, I wrought by such a secret slight,
That in this tire like to a page I scaped away by night.
But, ah, I fear that by pursuit he will me overtake!
Well, here ent'reth one to whom some suit for service I will make.

Enter C ORIN , a shepherd [ and his dog ]

Cor. Go's bones, turn in that sheep there, and you be good fellows!—Jesu, how cham beray'd!
Chave a cur here, and a were my vellow, cha must him conswade;
And yet and cha should kiss, look you, of the arse, cha must run myself and chill,
And cha should entreat him with my cap in my hand, ha wad stand still.
But 'tis a world to zee what merry lives we shepherds lead;
Why, we're gentlemen and we get once a thornbush over our head;
We may sleep with our vaces against the zon, and were hogs,
Bathe ourselves, stretch out our legs, and 'twere a kennel of dogs;
And then at night, when maids come to milking, the games begin:
But I may zay to you, my neighbour Hodge's maid had a clap,—well, let them laugh that win!
Chave but one daughter, but chould not vor vorty pence she were zo sped;
Cha may zay to you, she looks every night to go to bed.
But 'tis no matter, the whores be so whiskish when they're under a bush,
That they're never satisfied till their bellies be flush.
Well, cha must abroad about my flocks, lest the fengeance wolves catch a lamb,
Vor, by my cursen zoul, they'll steal and cha stand by; they're not averd of the dam.
Nero. [ aside. ] Well, to scape the pursuit of the king, of this same shepherd here,
Suspicion wholly to avoid, for service I'll inquire.—
Well met, good father: for your use a servant do you lack?
Cor. What, you will not flout an old man, you courtnold Jack?
Nero. No, truly, father, I flout you not; what I ask, I would have.
Cor. Go's bones, thee leest: serve a shepherd and be zo brave?
You courtnoll crackropes, wod be hang'd! you do nothing now and then
But come up and down the country, thus to flout poor men.
Go to, goodman boy; chave no zervice vor no zuch flouting Jacks as you be.
Nero. Father, I think as I speak; upon my faith and troth, believe me;
I will willingly serve you, if in case you will take me.
Cor. Dost not mock?
Nero. No, truly, father.
Cor. Then come with me; by Go's bones, chill never vorsake thee.
Whow, bones of my zoul, thou'lt be the bravest shepherd's boy in our town;
Thous go to church in this coat bevore Madge a Sunday in her grey gown:
Good Lord, how our church-wardens will look upon thee! bones of God, zeest,
There will be more looking at thee than our Sir John the parish-priest;
Why, every body will ask whose boy thou'rt; and cha can tell thee this by the way,
Thou shalt have all the varest wenches of our town in the vields vor to play;
There's neighbour Nichol's daughter, a jolly smug whore with vat cheeks,
And neighbour Hodge's maid—meddle not with her, she hath eaten set leeks,—
But there's Frumpton's wench in the frieze sack, it will do thee good to see
What canvosing is at the milking-time between her and me;
And those wenches will love thee bonomably in' every place,
But do not vall in with them in any kind of case.
Nero. Tush, you shall not need to fear me: I can be merry with measure as well as they.
Cor. Well, then, come follow after me, and home chill lead thee the way.
Nero. Alas, poor simple shepherd! by this princes may see
That, like man, like talk, in every degree.