|Previous Page||Next Page|
passe, neere to the fountaine, and with many teares to say thus vnto me. Why are thou so vngratefull (Duarda) to the good will which I beare thee, that thou wilt not be married to me without thy fathers consent? when time (thou knowest) will weare out the anger, that they may conceiue thereof. Whom I then answered thus. Conâˆ£tent thy selfe Danteus, that I am thine, and that I can neuer be any others, whatsoeâˆ£uer shall befall vnto me. And thy word and promise, which thou hast giuen me to be my husband, contents me well ynough: desire not then, in respect of staying a little time longer, a thing, whereof such mischiefe may ensue. At which wordes he tooke his leaue, telling me the next day that his father would marrie him, and reâˆ£questing me to giue him leaue, and not content with this, but to be married in deede three daies after. Dost thou not therefore thinke this (Armia) a sufficient reason for me, to vse the benefite of that libertie, which with such trouble of my thoughts I haue at last obtained? These are things (saide the other) soone spoken and passed betweene the truest louers, but must not be taken so much at the hart, nor so narâˆ£rowly interpreted, as thou dost vnderstand them. For those, which are spoken, thou hast reason, Armia; but for those that are done, thou seest it well ynough, if they touch not our soules too neere, that loue well. In the ende Danteu married, and it greeues me not a little, that so faire a Shepherdesse liued so small a time, and more, to see that one whole moneth after her buriall being scarce past, new thoughts beâˆ£gan to occupie his minde againe. God tooke her away (said Armia) to the end that Danteus might be thine, for indeede he could be no others but thine. If this be so (said Duarda) that he that is ones, cannot be anothers, I finde my selfe now to be mine owne; and therefore cannot be Danteus his. But let vs leaue of a thing not worth the losse of time that is spent about it, which shal be better imployed in singâˆ£ing a song: And then both of them in their owne toong with a sweete grace began to sing that which followeth.
TImes change and shall (as we doe see)
And life shall haue an ende:
But yet my faith shall euer bee
Whereon my eies depende.
The daies, and moments, and their scope,
The howres with their changes wrought,
Are cruell enemies to hope,
And friendes vnto a louing thought.
Thoughts still remaine, as we doe see,
And hope shall haue an end;
But yet my faith shall not leaue me,
Her honour to defend.
Inconstancie in trust contriued,
Causeth great danger in conclusion,
And life that is of hope depriued,
Standes not in feare of disillusion.
Times goe and come, as we doe see,
And life shall haue an end,
But yet my faith shall neuer bee
Distanâ€™d for foe or friend.
|Previous Page||Next Page|