CONCHYLIO

Ah Pass, ass passing ass; hah, would, he: Found thoughts, found hope, found heart, but fondest I, To grasp the wind, and love inconstancy; would, would, he, This fool would have I know not what, the sea To stand still Like a pond, the Moon never to change, A woman true to one he knows not what: She that to one all her of ections brings Cages herself and pinions Cupid's wings. Le is see whose the second; Oh the second Is and old dotard who though now four score Yet nature having left him some few hight embers Racked up in cold ashes, thinks himself a l fire and flame And the efore Like the dwarves Who though near so old, et still consort with boys So he among the freshest, you h in dancing In songs and sporting spends his fadish time. When snow on's head, shows in his eye With winter looks gives summer words the lie His name is Feredocaldo ; he knows his name E ter From docaldo. No sooner called but comes what i'st he reads? Upon my life some sonnet, I'll stand and hear. Would would he your eyes Feredocaldo take up your eyes hah, would, he. Find me without eyes? hah, would, he. A very pretty verse: how fresh a brain that made it If I am silver white and. nay if you'll try your limbs come on. Farewell f ost: how? Perind ? o how fitly After warm winter comes a chill could summer This youth in all things is that old men contrary This a cold May, that a hight January All my art cannot blow up one sparkle If I should stay hee'd blast me, adue solemnizing in Pises Farewell good Caldoferedo, I must after Feredocaldo What old acquaintance? lie by Mistress a little I'll fish a while, I may chance to catch A Codshead; I'll stand and hear them. Well bold woodcock With hout a bias. In e spin some thread out of this distaff. These fi hers are new returned from fishing, and know not that Atyches has slain the York, I'll York them. Let me strike then before the iron be key cold What hardy fishers dare approach this shore Untrod by men this twenty years and more e. P ucke out a good heart man. Why man. Why then thus; my deities oracle gives you answer thus When 2 famous fishers fallen upon this sand Let them for fear of m ghtie York, leave seas sail home by land I have not pinched hem for measure I have given them Oracle up to he elbows. What can you not expound. Drag up your boat and homeward cr e this shore Hoh; roh; droh;, Horka, Corka, Suga ponto ; the monster coms down under the boat turn it over I'll help: they cover themselves over with their beats for fear of the York & crept over the stage. Retire thou sacred monster (credit pe on) These sweet souls a e no f worser foe thee (on on) It's time these souls were spent they begin To stink, retire thou great God Neptune's sc urg Retire I say while this twin tortoise passes And dare not on e to touch these fi h flesh asses. Hah, would, he, farewell good tortoise, what good foutch? Haddock are and C worser? you shall walk with me I'll be your Oh ke: yet isle carry the Cod to my mistress Cosma. I know she loves it well: let Conchilio be turned into and Oyster if he would not play the Oh ke every day for such sport, it shall go hard but le with my friend ancr ne yet once a gain. Glaucilla and Olinda ? I marl what mettle What leaden earth and water nature put Into these Nymphs, as cold, as dull, as frozen As the hard rocks they dwell on! But my Mistress She's all quicksilver, never still, still moving, Now is she with some shepherd or some fisher, And here she sets me to entertain all comers: This is the hour her Lovers use to muster. But who should this be? is't you, old boy? Enter Feredocaldo. Old ten i'th hundred, are you the captain? boh, No shaking palsy, nor cr mpe has taken possession Of your nimble limbs would, would, he. Where she would be. Where you would be, Ah old goat do I smell you? yet in her bed? what a fool 'tis? thou hast spoken twice a already N w in my conscience he says true, this old wood Makes a b ighter fire then the greenest ever: Cou worser this dotard do as well as speak, he might— That was at the siege of Troy Now shall we hau , more tales then ever poets made But w at will you give me Fredocaldoe If I help thee in the rocky cave, near to the myrtle grove To sp ache with Cosma all alone. Your hand on hat: Ah old Saturn cold and dry we'll I'll doe't Within this hour expect er. Why did I ever deceive you? b eleeue me Fredocaldoe I say believe me then. Fail not within this hour: Exit Fredocaldoe. I know not what this old man's Like, unless Oh r hill of Sicily the flaming Aetna : Whose parches bowels still in fire consuming Fills all the valley with flame and pitchy fuming. Yet on his top congealed snow does lie As if there were not fire nor Phœbus nigh. Why should we count this strange? when even so This old men heart's all fire, his head all snow? But what fresh soldier's this? Enter Armillus Sure you do mistake me, sir, I am another's. I doubt you do not. My mother told me so. True sir, now I am yours indeed; what! yellow? yours to command: what would you with me? Yes I see very well. Troth, sir, you cannot, she's taken up with other busi nes, or rather taken down, yet i'll try sir. Exit, My Mistress as yet is so overlaid with sport or business, she cannot speak with you: may not I know your errand? Love (um) 'tis light enough, I shall carry it away: it's so short I shall remember it; but troth sir, another golden star this starless night dropped in my hand, may chance to give light to make my Mistress shine in your arms. Sir do you know the myrtle grove? Your star will conduct you thither straight, within this hour shee'l meet you there. Trust me I'll procure it; Else never more let me see golden stars. If? make no question sir. Adieu. Exit. This strange new bird, this goose with golden eggs Must with some grain of hope be cherished, And yet not fed too fat; now for my Crab, Here's his twin, if heavens signs are right. Enter Scrocca. Next to the crab, the twin must come in sighed, I'll out and seek him. Ino triumph I Ino triumph tell thee this is my triumphing suit, did not we vanquish the York? Why then Sir, you must go seek them under ground. What? old crab tortoise? has the York made you cast your shell? Thy lob hath learned that fishers keep no lent. Oh doutie loves! heres more game for my Mistress's net, or rather for mine. Are you there? I Orkt you once, and now I'll fit you for a Cupid. Exit. Conchyl. All hail, Cancrone, according to thy wish I here am pre sent great King of hearts, Duke of desires, Lord of love, whom mortals gentle Cupid do ycleape. True, Cancrone, and lest the beams of my bright deity should with their lustre wound those infant eyes, I have vo changed saved in this form to appear, lo, thy Conchylio and thy Cupid here, what wouldst thou with me? So it be not your York-suite I embrace it: say on, my darling. Here are Nymphs enough, Urina, Olinda, Lilla, Glaucilla, Bobadilla, No, I'll tell thee one, her name shall make thy mouth water. No, 'tis Cosma, the fishers flame, the shepherd's hope, whose beauty Pass admires. I tell thee I'll make her all to belove thee, she shall not rest till he meet thee here; but first I must arm thee with some magic charms. First you must anagramatize her name, then sympathise your own. For and anagram I'll fit you: Cosma a smock. For the sympathy of your own name but thus, your name Cancrone bids you counterfeit the counter-creeping crab; and go backward to her. Thirdly, because every fisher is born under Pisces, there before the sign is in the foot with you: you must come there before with one foot bore. I but shall I not catch cold and cough and spoil my partly? I but what shall I do with the bough? Oh the bough? why, setting thus pretty while, you must wrap a cockle garland about it, and then when the poor lass melts and consumes with thy love— Excellent well, I see thou art inspired. But the joust neck when thou must throw it is, when she says I die, I cry, I lie. I and in her best clothes too. Nothing but a short charm, which I'll teach you as we go on afore, I'll follow you. Blockhead. Beetlepate. Coxecombe. Buzzard. I'll cool my hight lover, he shall fit on a perch for a stale, now must I be vncupidate, & shortly appear here Cosmafied, it shall be hard but with the same limetwig I'll catch a big her bird then this. First I will serve my self, my mistress after; My bait is seeming love, my prey true laughter. First I will serve my self, my mistress after; My bait is seeming love, my prey true laughter. How well my Mistress Cosma's clothes do fit me? What pity 'twas, I was not made a woman? I think should have made a pretty Nymph: would? I could have been a pitiful creature, And yet perhaps, a good unhappy wench. Cosma by this hath met with her Armillus And sports her self: could I meet Feredocaldo, I should have sport enough: She stumbles at Fred. What Feredocaldo dead? cou age, man. Come shake off dreams, sleep is not fit for lovers, We'll to the rocky cave. But Feredocaldo, can you think that fire Can love cold water, the sun can frost desire? Fie Feredocaldo : Not in the open air. Would, would, he: this old dry stubble, how it cracks i'th' burr ning! alas poor sapless oak: it's time 'twere down, I stayed till he was ready, all unready, but when he begin to put on his spectacles, away slipped I: he'll do my mistress little hurt. Spectacles! hah, would, he! now for my loving Lobster, this is his time; and if the Cyclops too do keep his promise, Oh what rare compound of mirth I'll make, while the one with sha'me, the other with fear I'll take! The fish comes already to the net. Enter Cancrone, going back ward upon her. He looks over his shoulders. Tell not me, but tell the rocks, Not words must disciple you but knocks. I am out of your debt for a rhyme. I know not how this fishers hook hath caught me, I ever for his rudeness love him: it's the badge of innocence. Oh those glearing eyes that dart the beams, The beams that drowned my heart with fiery streams. Stay not, but come again thy self, sweet heart, to re ceiue me. Quickly return, my love, return Cancrone my dearest. I spy him now approaching, Enter Rimbombo. What though he be all rags in his limbs? what though his gesture taste of violence? we Nymphs, they say, Like not such wooers worst. you come somewhat before your time, Rimbombo, And Yet in love prevention is no crime: Lovers may come before, not out of time. And truly I wish, y'had come a little sooner. ven now a mong ell crabbed fisher swain Laid siege to this unconquered fort. Sweet Cyclops, meanest thou to ravish me? Why this know; we Nymphs that long live chased, and wear our girdle of virginity — but lo, Diana stops my tongue, she bends her deadly bow, I dare not. By that bright flame which Like one only sun gives day to'th sphere of thy majestic face, I thee adjure, that thou disclose to none this sacred mystery. We neither yield, nor take in love delight, Until our girdle fi st be once unplight By lovers hands, and then about his wast, By our own hands the same be tied fast. Now all is out. Nay turn about, it must be tied contrary to other girdles, joust behind. Stand nearer to me, yet near. Hang him stinking Lobster, he Dam res not look upon any of thy kin: his haddock eyes would start out of his head, if he should see but one hair of Rimbomboes head. The more knots I tie, the faster will my love be to you: but you'll be prating of this secret, when you come home among the r mounting Nymphs. I have but three knots to tie: they are all true knots. Would, would would: Oh love! Oh wit! Oh tree! Oh girdle! Oh platterface! Oh oyster eyes! Thou Aetna, thou Chaos, thou Hell: nay tug and tug, my virginity is tough and strong enough: Oh for, some Nymphs fishers or shepherd's to bait this York. I'll out and call in some bandog: so ho, so ho, ho, ho. Exit. So ho, so ho: Oh dogged fortune! not one Nymph to be found not one feat fisher! not one: but that feating fisher that is ready to wing his sea token net on the Cyclops blockhead. Away thou monstrous men ah would heigh. I'll have a grafted of this mi tle tree, it bears fine love worms, on the S ocke, a maggot would up in a Cobweb, on the bough a barnacle, which ere long will fallen and turn to a goose: now Cupid's gosling, now on your barehead knee, go beg at Cupid's door. Your staff? marry and shalt, it's a pretty pole to bang those boughs withal, and when thou dost it, do but gape, and that rotten plum will fallen into thy mouth. Thy staff, Rimbombo, is not for a weak Nymph to lift. Why Cancrone, rise, i'll help thee. Give me thy hand, i'll waft thee. Why valorous Cancron , view thy self and me thy captive Cosma, we are conquerors, behold our enemies in fetters fast bound. Nay, the Ȝork's dead and buried, this is the second fatal for the Cyclops. Cancrone where's thy spirit? this is that pocketed up thy grandsire in his wide entrails. Nay, I will tell thee fitter vengeanc , use him, as sage Ulysses did his father Polypheme. I, I, in the cave e br dead ou Polyph mes eye, when he was asleep, and you must imitate him here his own staff, and make it and ex guisher foe that la pe. I warrant you it has been tried, come be thou my rest, i'll tilt on thy shoulders. Oh your Whineyeard, the enemy hath seazd on't. I hope the salt breath of the sea hath sealed it up. Oh Cancrone, lo thy Cosma, Cupid, and Counterfeit chilio. Cyclops, blame not this my supposed sex, no Nymph, but lad hath caught thee in this snare. Exit. Marry let him stay till I send for him, the Cyclops shall want their breakfast this month. For you. Nay now he treadeth not upon these sands, but is fled up to the hills, and shortly thence will of himself come tumbling down to me.