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the edition of 1599, we believe, has been preserved, and that is among Capell's books in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. No other copy of "The Passionate Pilgrim" of 1612 has the two title pages, with and without the name of Shakespeare, but that formerly belonging to Malone, and bequeathed by him, with so many other valuable rarities, to the Bodleian Library.

"The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599, concludes with a piece of moral satire, Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd," &c., and we have followed it by a poem found only in a publication by broad. It contains some curious variations from the text of the first | Penniless," 1592, (Shakespeare Society's reprint, pp. 38 99) and edition in 1589. 4to. Thoms's Anecdotes and Traditions," (printed for the Camden Society) p. 56. Charles Chester is several times mentioned by name in Skialetheia," a collection of Epigrams and Satires, by E. Guilpin printed in 1598, as well as in "Ulysses upon Ajax," 1596.

It is called "Love's Martyr, or Rosalin's Complaint" Of the author or editor nothing is known; but he is not to be confounded with Charles Chester, called Carlo Buffone in Ben Jonson's "Every Man out of his Humour," and respecting whom see Nash's "Pierce


WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth
Unskilful in the world's false forgeries.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although I know my years be past the best,
1 smiling credit her false speaking tongue,
Out-facing faults in love with love's ill rest.
But wherefore says my love that she is young?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is a soothing tongue,
And age, in love, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,
Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be.


Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man, right fair,
The worser spirit a woman, colour'd ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt a saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her fair pride:
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend,
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
For being both to me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.

The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

Robert Chester, dated 16011. Malone preceded "The Phoenix and the Turtle," by the song "Take, O! take those lips away:" this we have not thought it necessary to repeat, because we have given the whole of it, exactly in the same words, in "Measure for Measure," Act IV., Sc. 1 The first verse only is found in Shakespeare, and the second, which is much inferior, in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Bloody Brother." It may be doubted, therefore, whether Shakespeare wrote it, or, like Beaumont and Fletcher, only introduced part of it into his play as a popular song of the time..


Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye,
'Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,
Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:
My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
Thy grace being gain'd cures all disgrace in me.
My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is:
Then thou fair sun, that on this earth dost shine,
Exhale this vapour now; in thee it is:
If broken, then it is no fault of mine.

If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
To break an oath, to win a paradise?

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Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,

A longing tarriance for Adonis made,
Under an osier growing by a brook,

A brook, where Adon us'd to cool his spleen:
Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim;
The sun look'd on the world with glorious cye,
Yet not so wistly as this queen on him:

1 This sonnet is substantially the same as Sonnet cxxxviii. in the quarto published by Thorpe, in 1609. This sonnet is also included in the collection of 1609, (Sonnet exliv.) but with some verbal variations. 3 This sonnet is found in "Love's Labour's Lost," but with some slight variations, published in 1598. We may suspect, notwithstanding the concurrence of the two ancient editions in our text. that the true reading was sugar'd, the long s having been, as in other places, mistaken for the letter f. This poem, with variations, is read by Si Nathaniel, in "Love's Labour's Lost"

He, spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood : I

weep for thee, and yet no cause I have;
0 Jove! quoth she, why was not I a flood ? For why ? thou left'st me nothing in thy will,

And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;

For why? I craved nothing of thee still :
Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,

O yes, (dear friend,) I pardon crave of thee. Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;

Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me. Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle,

Softer than wax, and yet as iron rusty :

Venus with Adonis sitting by her,
A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.

Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him :

She told the youngling how god Mars did try her, Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,

And as he fell to her, she fell to him.' Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing !

Even thus, (quoth she) the warlike god embrac'd me;

And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms;
How many tales to please me hath she coined,
Dreading my love, the loss whereof still fearing!

Even thus, (quoth she) the warlike god unlac'd me Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,

As if the boy should use like loving charms: Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings. And with her lips on his did act the seizure;

Even thus, (quoth she) he seized on my lips,

And as she fetched breath, away he skips, She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth;

And would not take her meaning, nor her pleasure She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out burneth :

Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
She fram’d the love, and yet she foil'd the framing;

To kiss and clip me till I ran away!
She bade love last, and yet she fell a tirning.
Was this a lover, or a lecher whether??

Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.

Crabbed age and youth

Cannot live together;

Youth is full of pleasance,
If music and sweet poetry agree,

Age is full of care : As they must needs, the sister and the brother,

Youth like summer morn, Then. must the love be great twixt thee and me

Age like winter weather; Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other.

Youth like summer brave, Douland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch

Age like winter bare. Upon the lute doth ravish human sense :

Youth is full of sport, Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such,

Age's breath is short; As passing all conceit needs no defence.

Youth is nimble, age is lame: Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound

Youth is hot and bold, That Phæbus lute (the queen of music) makes ;

Age is weak and cold ; And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd

Youth is wild, and age is tame. Whenas himself to singing he betakes.

Age, I do abhor thee, One god is god of both, as poets feign,

Youth, I do adore thee; One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.

0, my love, my love is young! Age, I do defy thee;

O, sweet shepherd ! hie thee, Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love,'

For methinks thou stay'st too long. *

XIII. Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild ;

A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly; Her stand she takes upon a steep up hill :

A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud; Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;

A brittle glass, that's broken presently: She silly queen, with more than love's good will,

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds.

Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
Once, (quoth she) did I see a fair sweet youth
Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,

And as goods lost are seld or never found,
Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!

As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh ; See, in my thigh, (quoth she.) here was the sore.

As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground, She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one,

As broken glass no cement can redress ; And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

So beauty blemish'd once, for ever lost,

In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon faded, Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be my share.
Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring!

She bade good night, that kept my rest away;
Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded, And daff'd me to a cabin hang’d with care,
Fair creature, kill's too soon by death's sharp sting! To descant on the doubts of my decay.
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,

Farewell, quoth she, and come again to-morrow: And falls, (through wind) before the fall should be. Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.

This poem was published in 1598, in Richard Barnfield's “Encomion of Lady Pecunia.". There is little doubt that it is his property not withstanding it appeared in the "Passionate Pilgrim," 1599; and it was reprinted as Barnfield's in the new edition of his “ Eneomion,

3 This son not, with considerable variations, is the third in a collection of seventy-two sonnets, published in 1596, under the title of “Fidessa," with the name of B. Griffin, as the author. A syllabic defect in the first line is there remedied by the insertion of young" before “Adonis.” A manuscript of the time, now before us, is without the epithet, and has the initials W.8

• The line so stands in both editions of " The Passionate Pilgrim," and in the contemporaneous mani script; bas u Grifha'. * Fidessa," it is : And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.








in 1605. ? The next line is lost.

at the end.

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On a day (alack the day!)
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover (sick to death)
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath,
Air (quoth he) thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alas! my hand hath sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack! for youth unmeet:
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

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1 an hour: in old eds. Steevens made the change; moon having the sense of month. 2 This is the first piece in the division of "The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599, called "Sonnets to sundry Notes of Music." As the signatures of the pages run on thoughout the small volume, we have continued to mark the poems by numerals, in the order in which they were printed." 3 This poem, n a more complete state, and with the addition of two lines only found there, may be seen in "Love's Labour's Lost." The poem is also printed in "England's Helicon." (sign. H.) a miscellany of poetry, first published in 1600, (reprinted in 1812.) where "W. Shakespeare" is appended to 1. In England's Helicon," 1600, this poem immediately follows "On a day (alack the day!)" but it is there entitled, "The unknown Shepherd's Complaint," and it is subscribed Ignoto. Hence, we may suppose that the compiler of that collection knew that it was not by Shakespeare, although it had been attributed to him in "The Passionate Pilgrim," of the year preceding. It had appeared anonymously, with the music, in 1597, in a collection of Madrigals, by Thomas Weelkes. Love's denying in England's Helicon." Heart's renying: in "England's Helicon." Both editions of "The Passionate Pilgrim," have With for My, which last not only is cessary for the sense, but is confirmed as the true reading by Weelkes' Madrigals, 1597.

1 Part.

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"Loud bells ring not

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then, live with me and be my love.


If that the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move,
To live with thee and be thy love.

Malone preferred the passage as it stands in Weelkes' Mat

The Passionate Pilgrim," and "England's Helicon," both have love for lass, which the rhyme shows to be the true reading sands in Weelkes' Madrigals, 1597. 3 So "England's Helicon" and Weelkes' Madrigals: "The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599, has in moan. In some modern editions, the stanzas of this poem have been given in an order different to that in which they stand in Passionate Pilgrim," 1599: to that order we restore them. and that text we follow, excepting where it is evidently corrupt. The time La well as partial fancy like," we have corrected by a manuscript of the time. The edition of 1599 reads: "As well as fancy patrat might," which is decidedly wrong. Malone substituted "As well as fancy, partial tike." The manuscript by which we have correc.ed the fourth line of the stanza also gives the two last lines of it thus:

"Ask counsel of some other head,
Neither unwise nor yet unwed."

But no change from the old printed copy is here necessary. In the manuscript the whole has Shakespeare's initials at the end.
manuscript in our possession, and another that Malone used: the old copies read, with obvious corruption,
"And set her person forth to sale."


So the manuscript in our possession: "The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599, has it, "She will not stick to round me on th' ear." poem, here incomplete, and what is called "Love's Answer," still more imperfect, may be seen at length in "Percy's Reliques,” Vi They belong to Christopher Marlowe and Sir Walter Raleigh: the first is assigned by name to Marlowe, in "England's Heleon. (8)gn A 2) and the last appears in the same collection, under the name of Ignoto, which was a signature sometimes adopted by Sir Wa at Raleigh. They are, besides, assigned to both these authors in Walton's "Angler," (p. 149, edit. 1809) under the titles of The maid's song," and "The Milk-maid's Mother's answer.”

Let the bird of loudest lay,
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings oboy.

But thou shrieking harbinger,
Foul pre-currer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever's end,
To this troop come thou not near.

As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade,
Which a grove of myrtles made,
Beasts did leap and birds did sing,
Trees did grow and plants did spring;
Every thing did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone :
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty
That to hear it was great pity.
Fie, fie. fie! now would she cry;
Tereu, Tereu ! by and by;
That to hear her so complain
Scarce I could from tears refrain,
For her griefs, so lively shown,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! thought I, thou mourn’st in vain,
None takes pity on thy pain :
Senseless trees they cannot hear thee,
Ruthless bears they will not cheer thee.
King Pandion he is dead,
All thy friends are lapp'd in lead,
All thy fellow birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing*.

From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing,
Save the eagle, feather'd king:
Keep the obsequy so strict.

Let the priest in surplice white,
That defunctive music can,
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.
And thou, treble-dated crow,
That thy sable gender mak'st
With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st,
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.

Here the anthem doth commence :
Love and constancy is dead;
Phenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.

So they lov'd, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none:
Number there in love was slain.

Hearts remote, yet not asunder,
Distance, and no space was seen
'Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder.

Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd,
Thou and I were both beguil'd:
Every one that flatters thee
Is no friend in misery.
Words are easy, like the wind;
Faithful friends are hard to find :
Every man will be thy friend,
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;
But if store of crowns be scant,
No man will supply thy want.
If that one be prodigal,
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 him 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 ihee in thy need :
If thou sorrow, he will weep;
If thou wake, he cannot sleep:
Thus of every grief in heart,
He with thee does bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.

So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the Phænix' sight :
Either was the other's mine.

Property was thus appallid,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was call’d.

Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together;
To themselves yet either neither,
Simple were so well compounded;
That it cry'd, how true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reasou none,
If what parts can so remain.

This poem is contained in R. Barnfield's "Encomion of Lady Pecunia," 1599. It is also inserted in "England's Helicon," 1600, A. 2) under the signature of Ignoto; but as Barnfield reprinted as his, in 1605, there can be little doubt that he was the author of it. i“ England's Helicon” here adds this couplet :

“Even so, poor bird, like thee,

None alive will pity me." • This is the last poem in "The Passionate Pilgrim," 1599. It is a separate production, both in subject and place, with a division between it and Barnfield's poem, which precedes it : nevertheless they have been incautiously coupled in some modern editions. * This poem is printed, as we have given it, with the name of Shakespeare, in Robert Chester's “Love's Martyr, or Rosalin's Complaint." 1601. li occurs near the end, among what are called on the title-page, “now Compositions of several modern Writers, whose names are subscribed to their several Works."

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