PARIS AND ENONE. GODS. Behold, in sign of joy we sing, PAN. The God of Shepherds, and his mates, PARIS, CENONE. PARIS. Enone, while we bin disposed to walk, Tell me, what shall be subject of our talk? Thou hast a sort of pretty tales in store; 'Dare say no nymph in Ida's woods hath more. Again, beside thy sweet alluring face, In telling them thou hast a special grace. Then prithee, sweet, afford some pretty thing, Some toy that from thy pleasant wit doth spring. CENONE. Paris, my heart's contentment and my choice, Use thou thy pipe, and I will use my voice; So shall thy just request not be denied, And time well spent, and both be satisfied. PARIS. Well, gentle nymph, although thou do me wrong, That can ne tune my pipe unto a song, Me list, this once, Enone, for thy sake, ENONE. And whereon then shall be my roundelay? To Jove, to Neptune, and to Dis below; Against the Gods and State of Jupiter; How Phorcyas' 'ympe, that was so trick and fair, A piece of cunning, trust me for the nonce, How Pluto raught Queen Ceres' daughter thence, Of Daphne turned into the Laurel Tree, How fair Narcissus, tooting on his shade, How cunning Philomela's needle tells What force in love, what wit in sorrow, dwells; What pains unhappy Souls abide in Hell, They say, because on Earth they lived not well,— Ixion's wheel, proud Tantal's pining woe, Prometheus' torment, and a many moe; How Danaus' daughters ply their endless task; PARIS AND ENONE. 66 All these are old and known, I know; yet if thou wilt have any, Choose some of these; for, trust me else, Enone hath not many. PARIS. Nay, what thou wilt; but since my cunning not compares with thine, Begin some toy that I can play upon this pipe of mine. CENONE. There is a pretty Sonnet then, we call it CUPID'S CURSE: They that do change old love for new, pray Gods they change for worse." CENONE. Fair, and fair, and twice so fair, The fairest shepherd on our green, PARIS. Fair, and fair, and twice so fair, Thy Love is fair for thee alone, (ENONE. My Love is fair, my Love is gay, "They that do change old love for new, COCK up, fair lids! the treasure of my heart, In this rare subject, from thy common right, OME, Sleep, O Sleep! the certain knot of peace, And if these things, as being thine by right, |