_Codrus._ Why thus faire Nimphes. As I a Fare had lately past, 150 And thought that side to ply, I heard one as it were in haste; A Boate, a Boate, to cry, Which as I was aboute to bring, And came to view my Fraught, Thought I; what more then heauenly thing, Hath fortune hither brought. She seeing mine eyes still on her were, Soone, smilingly, quoth she; Sirra, looke to your Roother there, 160 Why lookst thou thus at me? And nimbly stept into my Boat, With her a little Lad Naked and blind, yet did I note, That Bow and Shafts he had, And two Wings to his Shoulders fixt, Which stood like little Sayles, With farre more various colours mixt, Then be your Peacocks Tayles; I seeing this little dapper Elfe, 170 Such Armes as these to beare, Quoth I thus softly to my selfe, What strange thing haue we here, I neuer saw the like thought I: Tis more then strange to me, To haue a child haue wings to fly, And yet want eyes to see; Sure this is some deuised toy, Or it transform'd hath bin, For such a thing, halfe Bird, halfe Boy, 180 I thinke was neuer seene; And in my Boat I turnd about, And wistly viewd the Lad, And cleerely saw his eyes were out, Though Bow and Shafts he had. As wistly she did me behold, How likst thou him, quoth she, Why well, quoth I; and better should, Had he but eyes to see. How sayst thou honest friend, quoth she, 190 Wilt thou a Prentice take, I thinke in time, though blind he be, A Ferry-man hee'll make; To guide my passage Boat quoth I, His fine hands were not made, He hath beene bred too wantonly To vndertake my trade; Why helpe him to a Master then, Quoth she, such Youths be scant, It cannot be but there be men 200 That such a Boy do want. Quoth I, when you your best haue done, No better way you'll finde, Then to a Harper binde your Sonne, Since most of them are blind. The louely Mother and the Boy, Laught heartily thereat, As at some nimble iest or toy, To heare my homely Chat. Quoth I, I pray you let me know, 210 Came he thus first to light, Or by some sicknesse, hurt, or blow, Depryued of his sight; Nay sure, quoth she, he thus was borne, Tis strange borne blind, quoth I, I feare you put this as a scorne On my simplicity; Quoth she, thus blind I did him beare, Quoth I, if't be no lye, Then he 's the first blind man Ile sweare, 220 Ere practisd Archery, A man, quoth she, nay there you misse, He 's still a Boy as now, Nor to be elder then he is, The Gods will him alow;