To make them keep together, and hunt true: Which yet I do suppose had never been, But that I had a scourge to keep them in. Now when that I this kennel first had got, Out of my own demesnes I hunted not, Save on these downs, or among yonder rocks, After those beasts that spoiled our parish flocks; Nor during that time was I ever wont With all my kennel in one day to hunt: Nor had done yet, but that this other year, Some beasts of prey, that haunt the deserts here, Did not alone for many nights together Devour, sometime a lamb, sometime a wether, And so disquiet many a poor man's herd, But that of losing all they were afeard: Yea, I among the rest did fare as bad, Or rather worse, for the best ewes[1] I had (Whose breed should be my means of life and gain) Were in one evening by these monsters slain: Which mischief I resolved to repay, Or else grow desperate, and hunt all away; For in a fury (such as you shall see Huntsmen in missing of their sport will be) I vowed a monster should not lurk about, In all this province, but I'd find him out, And thereupon, without respect or care, How lame, how full, or how unfit they were, In haste unkennell'd all my roaring crew, Who were as mad as if my mind they knew, And ere they trail'd a flight-shot, the fierce curs Had roused a hart, and thorough brakes and furs Follow'd at gaze so close, that Love and Fear Got in together, so had surely there Quite overthrown him, but that Hope thrust in 'Twixt both, and saved the pinching of his skin, Whereby he 'scaped, till coursing o'erthwart, Despair came in, and griped him to the heart: I hallowed in the res'due to the fall, And for an entrance, there I fleshed them all: Which having done, I dipped my staff in blood, And onward led my thunder to the wood; Where what they did, I'll tell you out anon, My keeper calls me, and I must be gone. Go if you please a while, attend your flocks, And when the sun is over yonder rocks, Come to this cave again, where I will be, If that my guardian so much favour me. Yet if you please, let us three sing a strain, Before you turn your sheep into the plain. WILLY. I am content. CUDDY. As well content am I. ROGET. Then, Will, begin, and we'll the rest supply. SONG. WILLY. Shepherd, would these gates were ope, Thou might'st take with us thy fortune. ROGET. No, I'll make this narrow scope, Since my fate doth so importune Means unto a wider hope. CUDDY. Would thy shepherdess were here, Who belov'd, loves thee so dearly! ROGET. Not for both your flocks, I swear, And the gain they yield you yearly, Would I so much wrong my dear. Yet to me, nor to this place, Would she now be long a stranger; She would hold it no disgrace, (If she feared not more my danger,) Where I am to show her face. WILLY. Shepherd, we would wish no harms, But something that might content thee. ROGET.