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Scalar Milton

Evan Thomas, Milton Group8, Milton Group7, Milton Group6, Milton Group5, Milton Group4, Milton Group3, Milton Group2, Milton Group1, Milton Group9, Authors

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Hobbinol

Hobbinol) is a fained country name, whereby, it being so commune and vsuall, seemeth to be hidden the person of some his very speciall and most familiar freend, whom he entirely and extraordinarily beloued, as peraduenture shall be more largely declared hereafter. In thys place seemeth to be some sauour of disorderly loue, which the learned call paederastice: but it is gathered beside his meaning. For who that hath red Plato his dialogue called Alcibiades, Xenophon and Maximus Tyrius of Socrates opinions, may easily perceiue, that such loue is muche to be alowed and liked of, specially so meant, as Socrates vsed it: who sayth, that in deede he loued Alcybiades extremely, yet not Alcybiades person, but hys soule, which is Alcibiades owne selfe. And so is pederastice much to be praeferred before gynerastice, that is the loue whiche enflameth men with lust toward woman kind. But yet let no man thinke, that herein I stand with Lucian or hys deuelish disciple Vnico Aretino, in defence of execrable and horrible sinnes of forbidden and vnlawful fleshlinesse. Whose abominable errour is fully confuted of Perionius, and others.
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Related:  Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:StoureShee deignes not my good will, but doth reproue,vnnethesAnd from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,His clownish giftsRosalindThe blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,neighbour towneAnd laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.Colin them gives to Rosalind againe.And eke tenne thousand sithes I blesse the stoure,Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hastedBoth pype and Muse, shall sore the while abye.I loue thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue?)His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,Yet all for naught: [such] sight hath bred my bane.Wherefore my pype, albee rude Pan thou please,EpicauaileShepheards deuise she hateth as the snake,I loueThy mantle mard, wherein thou mas-kedst late.Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne:A thousand sithes I curse that carefull hower,PastoralEK's glossColin cloutAnd of my rurall musick holdeth scorne.Edmund SpenserAlbee my loue he seeke with dayly suit:The Shepheardes Calender: JanuaryWherein I sawe so fayre a sight, as shee.With breathed sighes is blowne away, & blasted,My timely buds with wayling all are wasted:Colins Embleme.So broke his oaten pype, and downe dyd lye.overhailecouthJohn MiltonVirgilAh God, that loue should breede both ioy and payne.SereMy musing mynd, yet canst not, when thou should:Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see:And am forlorne, (alas why am I lorne?)Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,sithesAs on your boughes the ysicles depend.Yet for thou pleasest not, where most I would:All so my lustfull leafe is drye and sereAnd now is come thy wynters stormy state,His kiddes, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.Teaching notes, 10 Sept. 2014It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine,And thou vnlucky Muse, that wontst to ease