A
Gentle shepherd born in Arcady,
Of gentlest race that ever shepherd bore;
About the grassy banks of Hæmony,
Did keep his sheep, his little stock and store.
Full carefully he kept them day and night
In fairest fields; and Astrophel he hight.
Young Astrophel! the pride of shepherds' praise.
Young Astrophel! the rustic lasses' love.
Far passing all the pastors of his days
In all that seemly shepherd might behove.
In one thing only failing of the best;
That he was not so happy as the rest.
For from the time that first the nymph his mother
Him forth did bring; and taught, her lambs to feed:
A slender swain, excelling far each other
In comely shape, like her that did him breed:
He grew up fast in goodness and in grace;
And doubly fair wox both in mind and face.
Which daily more and more he did augment
With gentle usage and demeanour mild;
That all men's hearts with secret ravishment
He stole away, and wittingly beguiled.
Ne Spite itself—that all good things doth spill—
Found ought in him, that she could say was ill.
His sports were fair, his joyance innocent,
Sweet without sour, and honey without gall;
And he himself seemed made for merriment,
Merrily masking both in bower and hall.
There was no pleasure nor delightful play
When Astrophel so ever was away.
For he could pipe, and dance, and carol sweet;
Emongst the shepherds in their shearing feast:
As summer's lark that with her song doth greet
The dawning day, forth coming from the East.
And lays of love he also would compose.
Thrice happy she! whom he to praise did choose.
Full many maidens often did him woo,
Them to vouchsafe, emongst his rhymes to name:
Or make for them, as he was wont to do,
For her that did his heart with love inflame;
For which they promised to dight for him,
Gay chaplets of flowers and garlands trim.
And many a nymph, both of the wood and brook,
Soon as his oaten pipe began to shrill;
Both crystal wells and shady groves forsook,
To hear the charms of his enchanting skill:
And brought him presents; flowers, if it were prime:
Or mellow fruit, if it were harvest time.
But he for none of them did care a whit;
Yet wood-gods for them oft sighed sore:
Ne for their gifts unworthy of his wit,
Yet not unworthy of the country's store.
For One alone he cared, for One he sighed
His life's treasure, and his dear love's delight.
Stella the fair! the fairest star in sky:
As fair as Venus, or the fairest fair.
A fairer star saw never living eye,
Shot her sharp pointed beams through purest air.
Her, he did love; her, he alone he did honour;
His thoughts, his rhymes, his songs were all upon her.
To her, he vowed the service of his days;
On her, he spent the riches of his wit;
For her, he made hymns of immortal praise:
Of only her; he sang, he thought, he writ.
Her, and but her, of love he worthy deemed:
For all the rest, but little he esteemed.
Ne her with idle words alone he vowed,
And verses vain—yet verses are not vain:
But with brave deeds, to her sole service vowed;
And bold achievements, her did entertain.
For both in deeds and words he nurtured was.
Both wise and hardy—too hardy, alas!
In wrestling, nimble; and in running, swift;
In shooting, steady; and in swimming, strong:
Well made to strike, to throw, to leap, to lift,
And all the sports that shepherds are emong.
In every one, he vanquished every one,
He vanquished all, and vanquished was of none.
Besides, in hunting such felicity
Or rather infelicity, he found;
That every field and forest far away
He sought, where savage beasts do most abound.
No beast so savage, but he could it kill:
No chase so hard, but he therein had skill.
Such skill, matched with such courage as he had,
Did prick him forth with proud desire of praise;
To seek abroad, of danger nought y'drad,
His mistress' name and his own fame to raise.
What need, peril to be sought abroad?
Since round about us, it doth make abode.
It fortuned as he, that perilous game
In foreign soil pursued, far away;
Into a forest wide and waste, he came,
Where store he heard to be of savage prey.
So wide a forest and so waste as this,
Nor famous Ardenne, nor foul Arlo is.
There his well-woven toils and subtle trains
He laid, the brutish nation to enwrap:
So well he wrought with practice and with pains,
That he of them, great troops did soon entrap.
Full happy man! misweening much, was he;
So rich a spoil within his power to see.
Eftsoons, all heedless of his dearest hale,
Full greedily into the herd he thrust
To slaughter them and work their final bale,
Lest that his toil should of their troops be burst.
Wide wounds emongst them, many one he made;
Now with his sharp boar spear, now with his blade.
His care was all, how he them all might kill;
That none might 'scape, so partial unto none.
Ill mind! so much to mind another's ill,
As to become unmindful of his own.
But pardon that unto the cruel skies,
That from himself to them, withdrew his eyes.
So as he raged emongst that beastly rout;
A cruel beast of most accursèd brood,
Upon him turned—despair makes cowards stout;
And with fell tooth, accustomèd to blood,
Launched his thigh with so mischievous might,
That it both bone and muscle rivèd quite.
So deadly was the dint, and deep the wound,
And so huge streams of blood thereout did flow;
That he endurèd not the direful stound
But on the cold dear earth, himself did throw.
The whiles the captive herd his nets did rend,
And having none to let; to wood did wend.
Ah, where were ye this while, his shepherd peers?
To whom alive was nought so dear as he.
And ye fair maids, the matches of his years!
Which in his grace, did boast you most to be?
And where were ye, when he of you had need,
To stop his wound that wondrously did bleed?
Ah, wretched boy! the shape of drearihead!
And sad ensample of man's sudden end!
Full little faileth, but thou shalt be dead;
Unpitied, unplained of foe or friend:
Whilst none is nigh, thine eyelids up to close;
And kiss thy lips like faded leaves of rose.
A sort of shepherds suing of the chase,
As they the forest rangèd on a day;
By fate or fortune came unto the place,
Whereas the luckless boy yet bleeding lay.
Yet bleeding lay, and yet would still have bled,
Had not good hap those shepherds thither led.
They stopped his wound—too late to stop, it was,
And in their arms then softly did him rear:
Tho, as he willed, unto his lovèd lass,
His dearest love, him dolefully did bear.
The doleful'st bier that ever man did see
Was Astrophel, but dearest unto me.
She, when she saw her love in such a plight,
With curdled blood and filthy gore deformed;
That wont to be with flowers and garlands dight,
And her dear favours dearly well adorned.
Her face, the fairest face that eye might see,
She likewise did deform, like him to be.
Her yellow locks that shone so bright and long,
As sunny beams in fairest summer's day;
She fiercely tore: and with outrageous wrong,
From her red cheeks, the roses rent away.
And her fair breast, the treasury of joy;
She spoiled thereof, and fillèd with annoy.
His pallid face, impicturèd with death;
She bathèd oft with tears and drièd oft:
And with sweet kisses, sucked the wasting breath
Out of his lips, like lilies pale and soft.
And oft she called to him, who answered nought;
But only by his looks did tell his thought.
The rest of her impatient regret
And piteous moan, the which she for him made;
No tongue can tell, nor any forth can set:
But he whose heart, like sorrow did invade.
At last, when pain his vital powers had spent,
His wasted life her weary lodge forewent.
Which when she saw, she stayèd not a whit,
But after him, did make untimely haste:
Forthwith her ghost out of her corps did flit,
And followed her mate, like turtle chaste.
To prove that death, their hearts cannot divide;
Which living were in love so firmly tied.
The gods, which all things see, this same beheld.
And pitying this pair of lovers true;
Transformèd them, there lying on the field,
Into one flower that is both red and blue.
It first grows red, and then to blue doth fade;
Like Astrophel, which thereinto was made.
And in the midst thereof a star appears,
As fairly formed as any star in sky;
Resembling Stella in her freshest years,
Forth darting beams of beauty from her eyes:
And all the day it standeth full of dew,
Which is the tears that from her eyes did flow.
That herb of some, "Starlight" is called by name;
Of others Penthia, though not so well:
But thou wherever thou dost find the same,
From this day forth do call it Astrophel.
And whensoever thou it up dost take;
Do pluck it softly, for that shepherd's sake.
Hereof when tidings far abroad did pass,
The shepherds all which lovèd him full dear—
And sure, full dear of all he lovèd was—
Did thither flock to see what they did hear.
And when that piteous spectacle they viewed,
The same with bitter tears they all bedewed.
And every one did make exceeding moan,
With inward anguish and great grief opprest;
And every one did weep and wail and moan,
And means devised to show his sorrow best.
That from that hour since first on grassy green,
Shepherds kept sheep; was not like mourning seen.
But first his sister that Clorinda hight,
The gentlest shepherdess that lives this day;
And most resembling both in shape and sprite,
Her brother dear, began this doleful lay.
Which lest I mar the sweetness of the verse,
In sort as she it sung, I will rehearse.