Page:The Works of Ben Jonson - Gifford - Volume 6.djvu/273

Rob. You should not cross him then, whate'er you do.
For phant'sie stopp'd, will soon take fire, and burn
Into an auger, or to a phrensie turn.

Cla. Nay, so we are advised by Aiken here,
A good sage shepherd, who, although he wear
An old worn hat and cloke, can tell us more
Than all the forward fry, that boast their lore.

Lio. See, yonder comes the brother of the maid,
Young Karolin: how curious and afraid
He is at once! willing to find him out,
And loth to offend him.

Enter Karolin.

Kar. Sure he's here about.

Cla. See where he sits.
[Points to Æglamour, sitting upon a bank hard by.

Æg. It will be rare, rare, rare!
An exquisite revenge! but peace, no words!
Not for the fairest fleece of all the flock:
If it be known afore, 'tis all worth nothing!
I'll carve it on the trees, and in the turf,^[1]
On every green sword, and in every path,
Just to the margin of the cruel Trent.
There will I knock the story in the ground,
In smooth great pebble, and moss fill it round,
Till the whole country read how she was drown'd;
And with the plenty of salt tears there shed,

1. I'll carve it on the trees, &c] This thought is sufficiently familiar to every pastoral writer; but the particular object of Jonson's imitation was Spenser.
   "Her name in every tree I will endosse,
    That as the trees do grow, her name may grow:
   And in the ground each where will it engrosse,
    And fill with stones that all men may it know."