She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes.
Art thou god to shepherd turn'd,
That a maiden's heart hath burn'd?
Can a woman rail thus?
Call you this railing?
Why, thy godhead laid apart,
Warr'st thou with a woman's heart?
Did you ever hear such railing?
the eye of man did woo me,
That could do no vengeance to me.
Meaning me a beast.
If the scorn of your
Have power to raise such love in mine,
Alack, in me what strange effect
Would they work in
Whiles you chid me, I did love;
How then might your prayers move!
He that brings this love
Little knows this love in me:
And by him seal up thy mind;
Whether that thy youth and kind
faithful offer take
Of me and all that I can make;
Or else by him my love deny,
And then I'll study how to
Call you this chiding?
Alas, poor shepherd!
Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt
thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an
and play false strains upon thee! not to
be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see
love hath made
thee a tame snake, and say this to
her: that if she love me, I charge her to love
thee; if she will not, I will
never have her unless
thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover,
hence, and not a word; for here comes
Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know,
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
fenced about with olive trees?
West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom:
The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream
your right hand brings you to the place.
But at this hour the house doth keep itself;
There's none within.
If that an eye may profit by a tongue,
Then should I know you by description;
Such garments and such
years: 'The boy is fair,
Of female favour, and bestows himself
Like a ripe sister: the woman low
than her brother.' Are not you
The owner of the house I did inquire for?
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