 | The Italian Taylor, and his Boy |  |
Cant. 5.
Argument
This Rubie conqueres where it lights,None but a Princesse hand,
Can part the couple that so fights.
On water and on land:
Which fight, makes plaine, as you may reed,
A Beggers braule, a Princes deed.
And giues the Princesse theese:
(I meane the Pibbles) and she mournes,
Her labour thus to leese:
And in a prettie iest,
Desires the Princesse vse lesse coyle,
When she would haue the rest:
And therewithall, vnfouldes the fight
Betwixt the angrie Fishes,
Which made the Princesse to delight,
That she in person wishes
Sh'ad bin pertaker of the warre:
So prettily maintainde,
The iourney had not bin too farre,
As she to her complainde:
But when her Mayde reported to her
Of the Fishes scape
The storie more and more did wooe her,
She reioyst the shape.
That she o'th sodaine did enjoy,
In presence of the Fish:
All this the Ring transformed Boy
Had, as his heart did wish;
And in his foyle so louely set,
Faire collited in Gold,
He shinde amongst the Pibbles wet,
Most louely to behold:
So beautifull and sanguine red,
The price no value had;
Which when she saw, she quickly said
Her hopes were ritchly alleid:
Vpon her pretious ioynt tis put,
Whose beautie did contend,
Whether the Ring, or Finger to't,
Were louelest to commend.
Her ouer weening pride
Was daunted; for report anon
Came to her, and that cride,
Her Fathers Feauer was extreame,
His Phisicke did no good:
T'was killing newes to all the Realme,
Vntimely vnderstood,
In sorrow when the silent night,
Did summon her to bed;
Not sleepe, but slumber well she might
For so her sadnes said:
In mid'st of which, she thought she saw
A naked man lie neare,
Imbracing her: who cryed law,
“Faire Princesse neuer feare;
“I am the Rubie on your hand,
“Transformed as you see;
“In other shape at your commaund,
“Your vassaile slaue to bee.”
This certaine apparision seene,
Whereto she thus replies:
Twixt sleepe and wake: “I am a Queene,
“And of no common price:
“Tis treason if thou touch me yit;
“And therefore be not bold
“Vnles our births do princely fit:
“But if my Ring of Gold,
“Touch then, and spare not; do thy best
“To please me in the weare:”
“And I am such at your request,
“(Quoth he) and therefore neare.’
Presumes a wanton hand;
She puts it by like Musicke rests
In skilfull songs commaund.
His waggish boldnes cride, all's mine!
Her mayden shame bade, fie:
His rudenes did a worke in time,
And she perceiu'd thereby
It was a substaunce, and no thought:
She starts vpright i'th bed:
“Alas (sayes she) is treason wrought,”
(And offerd to haue fled)
“O feare mee not,” Adonis sayes,
(For now hee's such a one,
As scornde the conquest loues the praise
Of what his fortune wonne:)
“But vnderstand me what I am,
“My shape, and comming hither.”
All told, the sequell sayes, loues shame
Deuide all wrong in either:
For Honour was his suertie,
He would be chast and true:
She did accept securitie,
And thus begins anew.
“Ile boast me as no Princesse can,
“Nor yet that euer might;
“In naked bed I lay by man,
“Yet honest all the night:
“And thou shalt say as much againe,
“Thy vertue is the greater,
“That mighst, and would not be so vaine
“Possessing such a creature.”
They past away the night;
Where, what to her he did relate,
Imagine, iudge ye might:
The deed of darknesse left vndone,
It was their first condition:
Then in what errour can they run,
Vnles in repetition:
For that was free in him and her,
Both parties were agreed,
In which they ventred on so far,
Vow seald their after speed.
The morning iealious of the eye,
That might behold him there,
Giues warning, and he by and by,
Her Rubie did appeare,
Plac'd on her finger, as before.
“O Vesta deare! (sayes she)
“I am thy vottery now no more,
“This ring hath conquered me.”
She kist her Finger, welcomde it;
Bade farewell vnto man,
Since both were Fancies friends to fit
Her virgine boldnes than.
Her Maydes that lay her chamber by,
Begins to chide her sorrow,
Because that sollitude was nie;
Yet bids them kind good morrow.
Alas (sayes she) my Fathers griefe,
Is cause of all my care;
Both you and I shall mourne as chiefe
If he die vnaware.
“Will make your sad heart light;
“It makes all modest wonder muse
“That hapt since yeaster night.”
She longes (as women do with child)
To heare that blessed wonder:
They in their tatling meeke and milde,
Doth trueth and iudgment sunder:
But when they finde tis all too good,
The offer made to 'th King,
Was true and easly vnderstood,
It did their comfort bring.
“There is (quoth they) a Doctor come,
“Ariu'd but late last night;
“Of whose great skill he yeeldes you some,
“And doth our Countrey right:
“He will attempt what all refuse,
“By Phisicks art to cure
“Your Fathers Feauer: and this newes,
“He doth by life assure:
“Onely his recompence is small;
“Which when his art is doone,
“He will demaunde, and there-with-all,
“This morn he hath begunne:
“And tis not yet two howers ago,
“Since his first Potion tooke;
“Whereby the fit that haunts him so,
“His vsuall hower forsooke.
This powerfull parlie rous'd the Deare,
The Larke did early mount:
It sprung a Partridge; whose vpreare,
Was of a great account:
Whose cunning promis'd this:
And thus the enuious Taylor can
Be Marchaunt, Doctor, Fish:
For he it was whose strange disguise,
Afforded power of skill,
To cure the King, who bed-red lyes,
And doth obey his will.
| The Italian Taylor, and his Boy | |