Geron and Philisides -
GERON .
Vp, vp, Philisides, let sorrowes go;
Who yeelds to woe doth but encrease his smart.
Do not thy heart to plaintfull custome bring,
But let vs sing, — sweet tunes doe passions ease;
An old man heare, who would thy fancies raise.
PHILISIDES .
Who minds to please the mind drown'd in annoyes
With outward ioyes, which inlie cannot sinke,
As well may thinke with oyle to coole the fire;
Or with desire to make such foe a frend,
Who doth his soule to endlesse malice bend.
GERON .
Yet sure an end to each thing time doth giue;
Though woes now liue, at length thy woes must die
Then vertue trie, if she can worke in thee
That which we see in manie time hath wrought,
And weakest hearts to constant temper brought.
PHILISIDES .
Whoeuer taught a skillesse man to teach,
Or stop a breach that neuer cannon saw?
Sweet vertue's law barres not a causefull mone:
Time shall in one my life and sorrowes end,
And me perchaunce your constant temper lend.
GERON .
What can amend where physicke is refusde?
The wit's abusde which will no counsayle take.
Yet for my sake discouer vs thy griefe;
Oft comes reliefe when most we seeme in trap;
The starres thy state, Fortune may change thy hap.
PHILISIDES .
If Fortune's lappe became my dwelling place,
And all the starres conspired to my good,
Still were I one, this still should be my case,
Ruine's relique, care's web, and sorrowe's food:
Since she, faire-fierce, to such a state me calls,
Whose wit the starres, whose fortune Fortune thralls.
GERON .
Alas, what falls are falne vnto thy minde,
That there where thou confest thy mischiefe lies,
Thy wit dost vse still still more harmes to finde?
Whom wit makes vaine, or blinded with his eyes,
What counsaile can preuaile, or light giue light,
Since all his force against himselfe he tries?
Then each conceit that enters in his sight
Is made forsooth a iurate of his woes,
Earth, sea, ayre, fire, heav'n, hell, and gastly sprite.
Then cries to sencelesse things, which neither knowes
What ayleth thee, and if they knew thy minde,
Would scorne in man, their king, such feeble shows.
Rebell, rebell, in golden fetters binde
This tyrant Loue; or rather do suppresse
Those rebell thoughts which are thy slaues by kinde.
Let not a glittring name thy fancie dresse
In painted clothes, because they call it loue;
There is no hate that can thee more oppresse,
Begin, and halfe the worke is done, to proue,
By rising vp, vpon thy selfe to stand,
And thinke she is a she that doth thee moue.
He water plowes, and soweth in the sand,
And hopes the flickring winde with net to hold,
Who hath his hopes laid vpon woman's hand.
What man is he that hath his freedome solde!
Is he a manlike man doth not know man
Hath power that sex with bridle to with-hold?
A fickle sex, and true in trust to no man;
A seruant sex, soone proud if they be coy'd:
And to conclude, thy mistresse is a woman.
PHILISIDES .
O Gods, how long this old foole hath annoy'd
My wearied eares! O Gods, yet graunt me this,
That soone the world of his false tongue be void.
O noble age, who place their onely blisse
In being heard vntill the hearer dye,
Vttring a serpent's mind with serpent's hisse!
Then who will heare a well-autorisde lye,
And patience hath, let him goe learne of him
What swarmes of vertues did in his youth flye;
Such hearts of brasse, wise heads, and garments trim,
Were in his dayes: which heard, one nothing heares,
If from his words the falshood he do skim
And herein most their folly vaine appeares,
That since they still alledge, — " When they were yong" —
It shewes they fetch their wit from youthfull years,
Like beast for sacrifice, — where, saue the tong
And belly, nought is left: such sure is he,
This life-dead man in this old dungeon flong.
Old houses are throwne downe for new, we see;
The oldest rammes are culled from the flocke;
No man doth wish his horse should aged be;
The ancient oke well makes a fired blocke;
Old men themselues doe loue yong wiues to choose,
Onely fond youth admires a rotten stocke.
Who once a white long beard well handle does,
(As his beard him, not he his beard did beare,)
Though cradle-witted, must not honour lose!
Oh, when will men leaue off to iudge by haire,
And thinke them old that haue the oldest mind,
With vertue fraught and full of holy feare!
GERON .
If that thy face were hid, or I were blinde,
I yet should know a young man speaketh now;
Such wandring reasons in thy speech I finde.
He is a beast that beaste's vse will allow
For proofe of man, who, sprung from heau'nly fire,
Hath strongest soule when most his raynes doe bow
But, fondlings fond, know not your owne desire;
Loth to dye young (and then you must be old),
Fondly blame that to which your selues aspire.
But this light choler, that doth make you bold
Rather to wrong then vnto iust defence,
Is past with me — my bloud is waxed cold:
Thy words, though full of malapert offence,
I way them not, but still with thee aduise
How thou from foolish loue maist purge thy sense.
First thinke they erre that thinke them gayly wise
Who well can set a passion out to shew:
Such sight haue they that see with goggling eyes.
Passion beares high when puffing wit doth blowe,
But is indeed a toy: if not a toy,
True cause of euils, and cause of causelesse woe.
If once thou maist that fancie-glosse destroy
Within thy selfe, thou soone wilt be ashamed
To be a player of thine owne annoy.
Then let thy mind with better bookes be tamed;
Seeke to espie her faults, as well as praise,
And let thine eyes to other sportes be framed.
In hunting fearefull beasts doe spend some dayes,
Or catch the birds with pitfals or with lyme,
Or traine the foxe that traines so craftie layes.
Lie but to sleepe, and in the earlie prime
Seeke skill of herbes in hilles, haunt brookes neare night,
And trie with bayt how fish will bite sometime.
Go graft againe, and seeke to graft them right,
Those pleasant plants, those sweet and fruitfull trees,
Which both the palate and the eyes delight;
Cherish the hiues of wisely-painfull bees;
Let speciall care vpon thy flocke be staid:
Such actiue mind but seldome passion sees.
PHILISIDES .
Hath any man heard what this old man said?
Truly not I, who did my thoughts engage
Where all my paines, one looke of her hath paid.
Vp, vp, Philisides, let sorrowes go;
Who yeelds to woe doth but encrease his smart.
Do not thy heart to plaintfull custome bring,
But let vs sing, — sweet tunes doe passions ease;
An old man heare, who would thy fancies raise.
PHILISIDES .
Who minds to please the mind drown'd in annoyes
With outward ioyes, which inlie cannot sinke,
As well may thinke with oyle to coole the fire;
Or with desire to make such foe a frend,
Who doth his soule to endlesse malice bend.
GERON .
Yet sure an end to each thing time doth giue;
Though woes now liue, at length thy woes must die
Then vertue trie, if she can worke in thee
That which we see in manie time hath wrought,
And weakest hearts to constant temper brought.
PHILISIDES .
Whoeuer taught a skillesse man to teach,
Or stop a breach that neuer cannon saw?
Sweet vertue's law barres not a causefull mone:
Time shall in one my life and sorrowes end,
And me perchaunce your constant temper lend.
GERON .
What can amend where physicke is refusde?
The wit's abusde which will no counsayle take.
Yet for my sake discouer vs thy griefe;
Oft comes reliefe when most we seeme in trap;
The starres thy state, Fortune may change thy hap.
PHILISIDES .
If Fortune's lappe became my dwelling place,
And all the starres conspired to my good,
Still were I one, this still should be my case,
Ruine's relique, care's web, and sorrowe's food:
Since she, faire-fierce, to such a state me calls,
Whose wit the starres, whose fortune Fortune thralls.
GERON .
Alas, what falls are falne vnto thy minde,
That there where thou confest thy mischiefe lies,
Thy wit dost vse still still more harmes to finde?
Whom wit makes vaine, or blinded with his eyes,
What counsaile can preuaile, or light giue light,
Since all his force against himselfe he tries?
Then each conceit that enters in his sight
Is made forsooth a iurate of his woes,
Earth, sea, ayre, fire, heav'n, hell, and gastly sprite.
Then cries to sencelesse things, which neither knowes
What ayleth thee, and if they knew thy minde,
Would scorne in man, their king, such feeble shows.
Rebell, rebell, in golden fetters binde
This tyrant Loue; or rather do suppresse
Those rebell thoughts which are thy slaues by kinde.
Let not a glittring name thy fancie dresse
In painted clothes, because they call it loue;
There is no hate that can thee more oppresse,
Begin, and halfe the worke is done, to proue,
By rising vp, vpon thy selfe to stand,
And thinke she is a she that doth thee moue.
He water plowes, and soweth in the sand,
And hopes the flickring winde with net to hold,
Who hath his hopes laid vpon woman's hand.
What man is he that hath his freedome solde!
Is he a manlike man doth not know man
Hath power that sex with bridle to with-hold?
A fickle sex, and true in trust to no man;
A seruant sex, soone proud if they be coy'd:
And to conclude, thy mistresse is a woman.
PHILISIDES .
O Gods, how long this old foole hath annoy'd
My wearied eares! O Gods, yet graunt me this,
That soone the world of his false tongue be void.
O noble age, who place their onely blisse
In being heard vntill the hearer dye,
Vttring a serpent's mind with serpent's hisse!
Then who will heare a well-autorisde lye,
And patience hath, let him goe learne of him
What swarmes of vertues did in his youth flye;
Such hearts of brasse, wise heads, and garments trim,
Were in his dayes: which heard, one nothing heares,
If from his words the falshood he do skim
And herein most their folly vaine appeares,
That since they still alledge, — " When they were yong" —
It shewes they fetch their wit from youthfull years,
Like beast for sacrifice, — where, saue the tong
And belly, nought is left: such sure is he,
This life-dead man in this old dungeon flong.
Old houses are throwne downe for new, we see;
The oldest rammes are culled from the flocke;
No man doth wish his horse should aged be;
The ancient oke well makes a fired blocke;
Old men themselues doe loue yong wiues to choose,
Onely fond youth admires a rotten stocke.
Who once a white long beard well handle does,
(As his beard him, not he his beard did beare,)
Though cradle-witted, must not honour lose!
Oh, when will men leaue off to iudge by haire,
And thinke them old that haue the oldest mind,
With vertue fraught and full of holy feare!
GERON .
If that thy face were hid, or I were blinde,
I yet should know a young man speaketh now;
Such wandring reasons in thy speech I finde.
He is a beast that beaste's vse will allow
For proofe of man, who, sprung from heau'nly fire,
Hath strongest soule when most his raynes doe bow
But, fondlings fond, know not your owne desire;
Loth to dye young (and then you must be old),
Fondly blame that to which your selues aspire.
But this light choler, that doth make you bold
Rather to wrong then vnto iust defence,
Is past with me — my bloud is waxed cold:
Thy words, though full of malapert offence,
I way them not, but still with thee aduise
How thou from foolish loue maist purge thy sense.
First thinke they erre that thinke them gayly wise
Who well can set a passion out to shew:
Such sight haue they that see with goggling eyes.
Passion beares high when puffing wit doth blowe,
But is indeed a toy: if not a toy,
True cause of euils, and cause of causelesse woe.
If once thou maist that fancie-glosse destroy
Within thy selfe, thou soone wilt be ashamed
To be a player of thine owne annoy.
Then let thy mind with better bookes be tamed;
Seeke to espie her faults, as well as praise,
And let thine eyes to other sportes be framed.
In hunting fearefull beasts doe spend some dayes,
Or catch the birds with pitfals or with lyme,
Or traine the foxe that traines so craftie layes.
Lie but to sleepe, and in the earlie prime
Seeke skill of herbes in hilles, haunt brookes neare night,
And trie with bayt how fish will bite sometime.
Go graft againe, and seeke to graft them right,
Those pleasant plants, those sweet and fruitfull trees,
Which both the palate and the eyes delight;
Cherish the hiues of wisely-painfull bees;
Let speciall care vpon thy flocke be staid:
Such actiue mind but seldome passion sees.
PHILISIDES .
Hath any man heard what this old man said?
Truly not I, who did my thoughts engage
Where all my paines, one looke of her hath paid.
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