PHYLLIDA

For then I must keep company with boys, and commit follies unseemly for my sex, or keep company with girls, and be thought more wanton then becomes me. Beside, I shall be ashamed of my long hose and short coat, and so unwarely blab out something by blushing at every thing. I agree, since my father will have it so, and fortune must. I neither Like my gate, nor my garments, the one untoward, the other unfit, both unseemly. Oh Phil lida, but yonder stayeth one, and therefore say nothing. But o Phillida. It is a pretty boy and a fair, he might well have been a woman, but because he is not, I am glad I am, for now under the colour of my coat, I shall deci pher the follies of their kind. If I durst trust my face as well as I do my habit, I would spend some time to make pastime, for say what they will of a men wit, it is no second thing to be a woman. Poor Phillida, curse the time of thy birth and rareness of thy beauty, the unaptness of thy apparel, and the untamedness of thy affections. Art thou no So ner in the habit of a boy, but thou must be enamored of a boy, what shalt thou do when what best liketh thee, most discontenteth thee? Go into the Woods, watch the good times, his best moods, and transgress in love a little of thy modesty, I will, I dare not, thou must, I cannot. Then pine in thine own peevishness. I will not, I will. Ah Phillida do something, nay any thing rather then live thus. Well, what I will do, my self knows not, but what I ought I know too well, and so I go resolute, either to bewray my love, or suf fer shame. It were a shame if a maiden should be a sum ter, (a thing hated in that sex) that thou shouldst deny to be her servant. Suppose I were a virgin (I blush in suppo sing my self one) and that under the habit of a boy were the person of a maid, if I should utter my affec cion with sighs, manifest my sweet love by my salt tears, and prove my loyalty unspotted, and my griefs intolerable, would not then that fair face, pity this true heart? Trush you come in with admit. What doubtful speeches be these? I fear me he is as I am, a maiden. Tush it cannot be, his voice shows the con trarie. My Father had but one daughter, and there before I could have no sister. What shall I do, either he is subtle or my sex simple. Can you prefer a fond boy as I am, before so fair Ladies as they are. Will not you be at the sacrifice? Why? I will. Poor Phillida, what shouldst thou think of thy self, that love one that I fear me, is as thy self is; and may it not be, that her Father practi z the same deceit with her, that my Father hath with me, and knowing her to be fair, feared she should be unfortunate, if it be so, Phillida how desperate is thy case? if it be not, how doubtful? For if she be a May den there is no hope of my love, if a boy, a hazard: I will after him or her, and lead a melancholy life, that look for a miserable death. My mother said I could be no lad till I was twenty year old, nor keep sheep till I could tell them; and therefore Lady neither lad nor sheephearde is here. I am willing to go, not for these Ladies c pany, because my self am a virgin, but for that fair boys favour, who I think be a God. Have you ever a Sister? I am in a quandary, Diana's Nymph's have followed him, and he despised them, either knowing too well the beauty of his own face, or that himself is of the same mould. I will once again try him. You promised me in the woods, that you would love me be before all Diana's Nymph's. I marvel what virgin the people will pre present, it is happy you are none, for the ̄ it would have fallen to your lot because you are so fair. I pray thee sweet boy flatter not me, speak truth of thy self, for in mine eye of all the world thou art fairest. Oh would I did flatter thee, and that fortune would not flatter me. I love thee as a brother, but love not me so. Seeing we are both boys, and both lovers, that our affection may have some show, and seem as it were love, let me call thee Mistress. For what cause? Not unless I were sure that a boy might be sacrificed, and not a maiden. But I would escape it by deceit, but seeing we are resolved to be both absent, let us wander into these Groves, till the hour be passed. Why, what dost thou fear? Accursed Phillida if that be Gallathea. And couldst thou dote upon the face of a Maiden, thy self being one, on the face of fair Gall lathea? Dear father, Nature could not make me so fair as she hath made you kind, nor you more kind then me dutiful. What soever you command I will not refuse, because you command nothing but my sa fetie, and your happiness. But how shall I be disgui said? It will neither become my body, nor my mind. Why stand I still, boys should be bold, but here comes a brave train that will spill all our talk. It is pity that Nature framed you not a woe man having a face so fair, so lovely a countenance, so modest a behaviour. What a toy is it to tell me of that tree, being nothing to the purpose: I say it is pity you are not a woman. Nay I do not wish to be woman, for then I should not love thee, for I have sworn never to love a woman. Why should you fear, the God requires no boy. I am glad he does not though, because if he did, I should have also cause to fear. But soft, what man or God is this? Let us closely withdraw our selves into the Thickets, I understand not one word you speak. Come let us into the Grove, and make much one of another, that cannot tell what to think one of another. We met the virgin that should have been offered to Neptune, belike either the custom is pardoned, or she not thought fairest. I had thought that in the attire of a boy, there could not have lodged the body of a Virgin, & so was inflamed with a sweet desire, which now I find a Sour deceit. Nor I any but Gallathea, whose faith is im printed in my thoughts by her words. Accursed be thou Phillida if thy love be not so. I am content, so I may embrace Gallathea. And satisfy us both, doth it not Galla thena?