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  • Title: The Passionate Pilgrim (Octavo, 1599)
  • Editor: Hardy M. Cook
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-411-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Hardy M. Cook
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Passionate Pilgrim (Octavo, 1599)

    When as thine eye hath chose the Dame,
    And stalde the deare that thou shouldst strike,
    Let reason rule things worthy blame,
    285As well as fancy (partyall might)
    Take counsell of some wiser head,
    Neither too young, nor yet vnwed.
    And when thou comst thy tale to tell,
    Smooth not thy toung with filed talke,
    290Least she some subtill practise smell,
    A Cripple soone can finde a halt,
    But plainly say thou loust her well,
    And set her person forth to sale.
    What though her frowning browes be bent
    295Her cloudy lookes will calme yer night,
    And then too late she will repent,
    That thus dissembled her delight.
    And twice desire yer it be day,
    That which with scorne she put away.
    300What though she striue to try her strength,
    And ban and braule, and say the nay:
    Her feeble force will yeeld at length,
    When craft hath taught her thus to say:
    Had women beene so strong as men
    305 In faith you had not had it then.
    And to her will frame all thy waies,
    Spare not to spend, and chiefly there,
    Where thy desart may merit praise,
    By ringing in thy Ladies eare,
    310 The strongest castle, tower and towne,
    The golden bullet beats it downe.
    Serue alwaies with assured trust,
    And in thy sute be humble true,
    Vnlesse thy Lady proue vniust,
    315Prease neuer thou to chuse a new:
    When time shall serue, be thou not slacke,
    To proffer though she put thee back.
    The wiles and guiles that women worke,
    Dissembled with an outward shew:
    320The tricks and toyes that in them lurke,
    The Cock that treads thē shall not know,
    Haue you not heard it said full oft,
    A Womans nay doth stand for nought.
    Thinke Women still to striue with men,
    325To sinne and neuer for to faint,
    There is no heauen (by holy then)
    When time with age shall them attaint,
    Were kisses all the ioyes in bed,
    One Woman would another wed.
    330But soft enough, too much I feare,
    Least that my mistresse heare my song,
    She will not stick to round me on th'are,
    To teach my toung to be so long:
    Yet will she blush, here be it said,
    335 To heare her secrets so bewraid.
    LIue with me and be my Loue,
    And we will all the pleasures proue
    That hilles and vallies, dales and fields,
    And all the craggy mountaines yeeld.
    340There will we sit vpon the Rocks,
    And see the Shepheards feed their flocks,
    By shallow Riuers, by whose fals
    Melodious birds sing Madrigals.
    There will I make thee a bed of Roses,
    345With a thousand fragrant poses,
    A cap of flowers, and a Kirtle
    Imbrodered all with leaues of Mirtle.
    A belt of straw and Yuye buds,
    With Corall Clasps and Amber studs,
    350And if these pleasures may thee moue,
    Then liue with me, and be my Loue.
    Loues answere.
    IF that the World and Loue were young,
    And truth in euery shepheards toung,
    355These pretty pleasures might me moue,
    To liue with thee and be thy Loue.
    AS it fell vpon a Day,
    In the merry Month of May,
    Sitting in a pleasant shade,
    360Which a groue of Myrtles made,
    Beastes did leape, and Birds did sing,
    Trees did grow, and Plants did spring:
    Euery thing did banish mone,
    Saue the Nightingale alone.
    365Shee (poore Bird) as all forlorne,
    Leand her breast vp-till a thorne,
    And there sung the dolfulst Ditty,
    That to heare it was great Pitty,
    Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry
    370Teru, Teru, by and by:
    That to heare her so complaine,
    Scarce I could from teares refraine:
    For her griefes so liuely showne,
    Made me thinke vpon mine owne.
    375Ah (thought I) thou mournst in vaine,
    None takes pitty on thy paine:
    Senslesse Trees, they cannot heare thee,
    Ruthlesse Beares, they will not cheere thee.
    King Pandion, he is dead:
    380All thy friends are lapt in Lead.
    All thy fellow Birds doe sing,
    Carelesse of thy sorrowing.
    Whilst as fickle Fortune smilde,
    Thou and I, were both beguild.
    385Euery one that flatters thee,
    Is no friend in miserie:
    Words are easie, like the wind,
    Faithfull friends are hard to find:
    Euery man will be thy friend,
    390Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend:
    But if store of Crownes be scant,
    No man will supply thy want
    If that one be prodigall,
    Bountifull they will him call:
    395And with such-like flattering,
    Pitty but he were a King.
    If he be addict to vice,
    Quickly him, they will intice.
    If to Women hee be bent,
    400They haue at Commaundement.
    But if Fortune once doe frowne,
    Then farewell his great renowne:
    They that fawnd on him before.
    Vse his company no more.
    405Hee that is thy friend indeede,
    Hee will helpe thee in thy neede:
    If thou sorrow, he will weepe:
    If thou wake, hee cannot sleepe:
    Thus of euery griefe, in hart
    410Hee, with thee, doeth beare a part.
    These are certaine signes, to know
    Faithfull friend, from flatt'ring foe.