Henry Craik, ed. English Prose. 1916.
Vol. I. Fourteenth to Sixteenth Century
Thomas Lodge (15581625)
W
Rosalynde thus passionate, was wakened from her dumps by Aliena, who said it was time to go to bed. Corydon swore that was true, for Charles’ wain was risen in the north. Whereupon each taking leave of other, went to their rest all, but the poor Rosalynde, who was so full of passions that she could not possess any content. Well, leaving her to her broken slumbers, expect what was performed by them the next morning.
The sun was no sooner stepped from the bed of Aurora, but Aliena was wakened by Ganymede, who restless all night had tossed in her passions, saying it was then time to go to the field to unfold their sheep. Aliena (that spied where the hare was by the hounds, and could see day at a little hole) thought to be pleasant with her Ganymede, and therefore replied thus: “What, wanton? the sun is but new up, and as yet Iris’ riches lie folded in the bosom of Flora, Phœbus hath not dried up the pearled dew, and so long Corydon hath taught me, it is not fit to lead the sheep abroad, lest, the dew being unwholesome, they get the rot: but now see I the old proverb true, he is in haste whom the devil drives, and where love pricks forward, there is no worse death than delay. Ah, my good page, is there fancy in thine eye, and passions in thy heart? What, hast thou wrapped love in thy looks? and set all thy thoughts on fire by affection? I tell thee, it is a flame as hard to be quenched as that of Etna. But Nature must have her course, women’s eyes have faculty attractive like the jet, and retentive like the diamond: they dally in the delight of fair objects, till gazing on the panther’s beautiful skin, repenting experience tell them he hath a devouring paunch.” “Come on” (quoth Ganymede) “this sermon of yours is but a subtilty to lie still abed, because either you think the morning cold, or else, I being gone, you would steal a nap: this shift carries no palm, and therefore up and away. And, for love, let me alone, I’ll whip him away with nettles, and set disdain as a charm to withstand his forces: and therefore look you to yourself, be not too bold, for Venus can make you bend; nor too coy, for Cupid hath a piercing dart, that will make you cry peccavi.” “And that is it” (quoth Aliena) “that hath raised you so early this morning.” And with that she slipped on her petticoat, and start up: and as soon as she had made her ready, and taken her breakfast, away go these two with their bag and bottles to the field, in more pleasant content of mind, than ever they were in the court of Torismond.