Imbased him from lordlines

Into a kitchen drudge,

That so at least of life or death

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She might become his judge.

Accesse so had to see and speake,

He did his love bewray,

And tells his birth: her answer was,

She husbandles would stay.

Meane while the king did beate his braines,

His booty to atcheive,

Nor caring what became of her,

So he by her might thrive;

At last his resolution was

Some pessant should her wive.

And (which was working to his wish)
He did observe with joye

How Curan, whom he thought a drudge,

Scapt many an amorous toye3.

The king, perceiving such his veine,

Promotes his vassal still,

Lest that the basenesse of the man

Should lett, perhaps, his will.

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3 The construction is, "How that many an amorous toy, or foolery of love, 'scaped Curan;" i. e. escaped from him, being off his guard.

Assured therefore of his love,
But not suspecting who

The lover was, the king himselfe

In his behalf did woe.

The lady resolute from love,

Unkindly takes that he

Should barre the noble, and unto

So base a match agree:

And therefore shifting out of doores,

Departed thence by stealth;

Preferring povertie before

A dangerous life in wealth.

When Curan heard of her escape,

The anguish in his hart

Was more than much, and after her
From court he did depart;

Forgetfull of himselfe, his birth,
His country, friends, and all,
And only minding (whom he mist)
The foundresse of his thrall.

Nor meanes he after to frequent
Or court, or stately townes,

But solitarily to live

Amongst the country grownes.

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A brace of years he lived thus,

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And shepherd-like to feed a flocke

Well pleased so to live,

Himselfe did wholly give.

So wasting, love, by worke, and want,

Grew almost to the waine :

But then began a second love,

The worser of the twaine.

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A country wench, a neatherds maid,

Where Curan kept his sheepe,

Did feed her drove: and now on her

Was all the shepherds keepe.

He borrowed on the working daies

His holy russets oft,

And of the bacon's fat, to make

His startops blacke and soft.

And least his tarbox should offend,

He left it at the folde:

Sweete growte, or whig, his bottle had,

As much as it might holde.

A sheeve of bread as browne as nut,

And cheese as white as snow,

VOL. II.

Ver. 112, i. e. holy-day russets.

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And wildings, or the seasons fruit

He did in scrip bestow.

And whilst his py-bald curre did sleepe,

And sheep-hooke lay him by,

On hollow quilles of oten straw

He piped melody.

But when he spyed her his saint,

He wip'd his greasie shooes,

And clear'd the drivell from his beard,
And thus the shepheard wooes.

"I have, sweet wench, a peece of cheese, As good as tooth may chawe,

And bread and wildings souling well,

(And therewithall did drawe

His lardrie) and in 'yeaning' see

"Yon crumpling ewe, quoth he,

Did twinne this fall, and twin shouldst thou,

If I might tup with thee.

"Thou art too elvish, faith thou art,

Too elvish and too coy :

Am I, I pray thee, beggarly,
That suche a flocke enjoy?

V. 135, eating. P.CC.

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135

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Doest hold me in disdaine

"I wis I am not: yet that thou

Is brimme abroad, and made a gybe

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To all that keepe this plaine.

"There be as quaint (at least that thinke
Themselves as quaint) that crave

The match, that thou, I wot not why,
Maist, but mislik'st to have.

"How wouldst thou match? (for well I wot,

Thou art a female) I,

Her know not here that willingly

With maiden-head would die.

"The plowmans labour hath no end, And he a churle will prove :

The craftsman hath more worke in hand

Then fitteth unto love:

"The merchant, traffiquing abroad,

Suspects his wife at home:

A youth will play the wanton; and

An old man prove a mome.

"Then chuse a shepheard: with the sun

He doth his flocke unfold,

V. 153, Her know I not, her that. ed. 1602.

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