The Shepherdes Confession. 207
wth her owne hand, him she stroked, him she plaid wthall. I cominge on a time to this cage & pittying to see yt poore foule in captiuitie wch was free by the laws of kind vnpent the cage dore & out flue the bird. Ph: findinge her play fellow gone & yt through my falte, O hils O downs into what arage was shee driuen. I was the man yt invied her content, twas I yt had bereaud her of her morninges thought, her repose at euen, her make [=mate] by day and her valiant gûid by night, so yt transported wth this tempestuos passion away she flinges from me & neur sine cold I regaine her fauor. how often sine haue I sued for grace by crowninge those lam̄s wth garlandes wch I knew to be her fauorites. how often haue I brought her a robbin redbreste & told hr yt although he be sulle [=sullen] & sollitary, yet is he a most kind & faithfull bird, how often haue I prsented her ye nighting gale wth this commend'con yt he vseth to sleepe wth a pricke at his breste, and yet she scornes my guiftes & wth despitfull thretninge makes answer to my passionat intreatinges yt vnles I find her lady bird againe
