THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM THE volume entitled "The Passionate Pilgrim. By William Shakespeare" is a small piratical publication printed for W. Jaggard in 1599. Of the second edition, no copy is known to survive. A third edition, also ascribed to Shakespeare, appeared in 1612, with unacknowledged additions from Thomas Heywood. Heywood, claiming to speak for Shakespeare as well as himself, protested against the theft, and a new title-page was printed without Shakespeare's name. In 1640 the contents were again re-printed, along with Shakespeare's Sonnets and other miscellaneous poems. The whole of the first edition is here reprinted; but, of its twenty poems, only five are certainly by Shakespeare. Of these, I and II appeared later as Sonnets 138 and 144 in the edition of 1609; III, v, and xvi are from Love's Labour's Lost, IV. ii. 96–109, Iv. iii. 58-71, and iv. iii. 99-118. The authorship of four others is definitely known: vIII, xx (and probably xvi) are by Richard Barnefield; xI appears as the third sonnet in Bartholomew Griffin's Fidessa; XIX is by Marlowe, and its last stanza, "Love's Answer," is ascribed by Walton to Raleigh. Of the authorship of the remaining ten nothing is known, the probability of Shakespeare's authorship depending on evidences of style which vary from poem to poem, but which are in no case strong. Some critics accept IV and VI; fewer, VII, IX, XII, XVIII; while X, XIII, XIV, and XV are usually rejected. 'Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music" is merely the title of the second part of The Passionate Pilgrim. I 66 WHEN my love swears that she is made of I do believe her, though I know she lies, me, 10 Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be. II 15 ; Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, 20 25 The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt, 65 Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook She told him stories to delight his ear; Touches so soft still conquer chastity. He rose and ran away; ah, fool too fro 85 Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle; Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty: A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her, None fairer, nor none falser to deface her. 90 Her lips to mine how often hath she joined, Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing! How many tales to please me hath she coined, Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing! Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, 95 Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings. She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth; She burn'd out love, as soon as straw outburneth; Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar, Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth! See, in my thigh," quoth she, "here was the sore." She showed hers: he saw more wounds than one, And blushing fled, and left her all alone. 130 X Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon faded, Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring! Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded! Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting! Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree, 138 And falls, through wind, before the fall should be. And as he fell to her, so fell she to him. "Even thus," quoth she, "the warlike god embrac'd me,' And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms; As if the boy should use like loving charms; 150 For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty, Sorrow chang'd to solace, and solace mix'd with sorrow; For why, she sigh'd and bade me come to SONNETS TO SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC Let reason rule things worthy blame, Take counsel of some wiser head, And when thou com'st thy tale to tell, But plainly say thou lov'st her well, What though her frowning brows be bent, What though she strive to try her strength, And to her will frame all thy ways; The strongest castle, tower, and town, Serve always with assured trust, 275 In howling wise, to see my doleful plight. How sighs resound Through heartless ground, Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight! 280 285 The wiles and guiles that women work, Think women seek to strive with men 330 335 344 She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Senseless trees they cannot hear thee; All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; [Even so, poor bird, like thee, Whilst as fickle Fortune smil'd, 390 400 605 Is no friend in misery. Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find: 365 But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. 410 If that one be prodigal, 370 375 380 Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering, Pity but he were a king!" If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice: If to women he be bent, They have at commandement: But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown; They that fawn'd on him before Use his company no more. He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: If thou sorrow, he will weep; If thou wake, he cannot sleep; Thus of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flatt'ring foe. 415 620 |