My mind enamoured on fair virtue's light,
Transcends the limits of their bleared sight,
And placed above their envy doth contemn,
Nay, sit and laugh at, their disdain and them.

But, noble friends, I make question neither of yours nor any honest man's respect, and therefore will no further urge it, nor trouble your patience: only this I'll say, that you may not think me too well conceited of myself; though the time were to blame, in illrequiting my honest endeavours, which in the eyes of the world deserved better, yet somewhat I am assured there was in me worthy that punishment, which when God shall give me grace to see and amend, I doubt not but to find that regard as will be fitting for so much merit as my endeavours may justly challenge. Meanwhile, the better to hold myself in esteem with you, and amend the world's opinion of virtue, I will study to amend myself, that I may be yet more worthy to be called

Your friend,

GEO. WITHER.

THE SHEPHERD'S HUNTING.

THE FIRST ECLOGUE.

THE ARGUMENT.

Willy leaves his flock awhile,
To lament his friend's exile;
Where, though prison'd, he doth find,
He's still free that's free in mind:
And that there is no defence
Half so firm as innocence.

PHILARETE. WILLY.

Philarete.

WILLY, thou now full jolly tun'st thy reeds,
Making the nymphs enamour'd on thy strains,
And whilst thy harmless flock unscared feeds,
Hast the contentment of hills, groves, and plains:

Argument. 1. 1. So 1615, etc. Flocks,' 1633.

1. 4.

1. 2. So 1622, 33. Earlier eds. read:-
'Visits Roget in exile.' See note.

1. 5. So 1622, 33. 1615, '20 read 'And in trouble
no defence.'

thy,' for 'the,' is given by 1615 (b) and 1620. 'bills,' 1615, 20, 22. 'hill,' 1633.

9

Trust me, I joy thou and thy Muse so speeds
In such an age, where so much mischief reigns:
And to my care it some redress will be,
Fortune hath so much grace to smile on thee.

Willy.

To smile on me? I ne'er yet knew her smile,
Unless 'twere when she purposed to deceive me ; 10
Many a train, and many a painted wile

She casts, in hope of freedom to bereave me :
Yet now, because she sees I scorn her guile

To fawn on fools, she for my Muse doth leave me.
And here of late, her wonted spite doth tend
To work me care, by frowning on my friend.

Philarete.

Why then I see her copper coin's no starling,
'Twill not be current still, for all the gilding,
A knave or fool must ever be her darling,
For they have minds to all occasions yielding:
If we get anything by all our parling,

It seems an apple, but it proves a wilding:

But let that pass: sweet shepherd, tell me this,
For what beloved friend thy sorrow is?

Willy.

Art thou, Philarete, in durance here,

And dost thou ask me for what friend I grieve?

11. 25, 26. So 1622, '33. Earlier eds. read :—

'Wrong me not, Roget; dost thou suffer here
And ask me for what friend it is I grieve?'

20

Can I suppose thy love to me is dear,

Or this thy joy for my content believe?

When thou think'st thy cares touch not me as near:

Or that I pin thy sorrows at my sleeve?
I have in thee reposed so much trust,

I never thought to find thee so unjust.

Why, Willy?

Philarete.

Willy.

Prithee do not ask me why.

Doth it diminish any of thy care,

That I in freedom maken melody;

And think'st I cannot as well somewhat spare

From my delight, to moan thy misery?

30

'Tis time our loves should these suspects forbear: Thou art that friend, which thou unnamed should'st know,

And not have drawn my love in question so. 40

Philarete.

Forgive me, and I'll pardon thy mistake,
And so let this thy gentle anger cease;

I never of thy love will question make
Whilst that the number of our days increase,
Yet to myself I much might seem to take,
And something near unto presumption prease,

1. 31. So 1622, 33. 1615, Roget, my faith in thee hath had

that trust.'
:.' So also 1620, with such for that.'

1. 33. So 1615. 1620, 'Why, Willy, Willy: Prithee...' 1622, Wil, why Willy? Prithee...' 1633, 'Philarete. Why? Willy. Prithee...' So Brydges.