Page:The Works of Ben Jonson - Gifford - Volume 6.djvu/271

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THE SAD SHEPHERD.
261
When to one goat they reach that prickly weed,
Which maketh all the rest forbear to feed;
Or strew tods' hairs, or with their tails do sweep
The dewy grass, to do'ff the simpler sheep;
Or dig deep pits their neighbour's neat to vex,
To drown the calves, and crack the heifers' necks;
Or with pretence of chasing thence the brock,
Send in a cur to worry the whole flock!

Lio. O friar, those are faults that are not seen,
Ours open, and of worst example been.
They call ours Pagan pastimes, that infect
Our blood with ease, our youth with all neglect;
Our tongues with wantonness, our thoughts with lust;
And what they censure ill, all others must.

Rob. I do not know what their sharp sight may see,
Of late, but I should think it still might be
As 'twas, an happy age, when on the plains
The woodmen met the damsels, and the swains

    Jonson is far from being singular in his remarks on the growing moroseness of these dangerous times; the author of Adrasta, (among a thousand others) felt and expressed the same sentiments.

    Damon. Come, hands to work! It is the festival
    Of our Silvanus, we must round entrench
    The fittest place for dancing.
    Laur. And strew the banks
    On which the summer Lord and Lady sit
    To see the sports, with those rich spoils of May.
    Armin. Our shepherds will be frolic then, and lose
    No ceremony of their ancient mirth.
    Damon. I like them well: the curious preciseness,
    And all-pretended gravity, of those
    That seek to banish hence these harmless sports,
    Have thrust away much ancient honesty.
    Armin. I do believe you. p. 53.