MONTANO, SILVIO, AND… MON. Bad are the times. SIL.… MON. Troth, bad are both; worse… The feast of shepherds fail. SI… Of wassail now, or sets the quinte…

How rich and pleasing thou, my Ju… In each thy dainty and peculiar pa… First, for thy Queen-ship on thy… Of flowers a sweet commingled coro… About thy neck a carkanet is bound…

Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, Whenas your baby’s lull’d asleep? And, pretty child, feels now no mo… Those pains it lately felt before. All now is silent; groans are fled…

The Hag is astride, This night for to ride, The devil and she together; Through thick and through thin, Now out, and then in,

Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing. Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but…

True mirth resides not in the smil… The sweetest solace is to act no s…

Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play!

You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. —Take then tribute of my tears;

Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I’… A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have

Drink wine, and live here blithefu… The morrow’s life too late is; Li…

No wrath of men, or rage of seas, Can shake a just man’s purposes; No threats of tyrants, or the grim Visage of them can alter him; But what he doth at first intend,

Though frankincense the deities re… We must not give all to the hallow… Such be our gifts, and such be our… As for ourselves to leave some fra…

SWEET western wind, whose luck i…    Made rival with the air, To give Perenna’s lip a kiss,    And fan her wanton hair: Bring me but one, I’ll promise th…

Virgins promised when I died, That they would each primrose-tide Duly, morn and evening, come, And with flowers dress my tomb. —Having promised, pay your debts

LACON. For a kiss or two, conf… What doth cause this pensiveness, Thou most lovely neat-herdess? Why so lonely on the hill? Why thy pipe by thee so still,