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The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley

Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed: And Those which he Design'd for the Press, Now Published out of the Authors Original Copies ... The Text Edited by A. R. Waller

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30

To the Right Worshipfull, my very loving Master, Master Lambert Osbolston, chiefe Schoolmaster of Westminster-Schoole.

Sir,

My childish Muse is in her Spring, and yet
Can onely shew some budding of her Wit.
One frowne upon her Worke (learn'd Sir) from you,
Like some unkinder storme shot from your brow,
Would turn her Spring to withering Autumn's time,
And make her Blossomes perish, ere their Prime.
But if you smile, if in your gracious Eye
Shee an auspicious Alpha can descrie:
How soone will they grow Fruit? How will they flourish,
That had such beames their infancie to nourish?
Which being sprung to ripenesse, expect then
The best, and first fruits of her gratefull Pen.
Your most dutifull Scholler, Abra. Cowley.

31

THE TRAGICALL HISTORY OF Pyramus and Thisbe.

1

Where Babylons high Walls erected were
By mighty Ninus wife; two houses joyn'd.
One Thisbe liv'd in, Pyramus the faire
In th'other: Earth nere boasted such a paire.
The very sencelesse walls themselves combin'd,
And grew in one; just like their Masters mind.

2

Thisbe all other women did excell,
The Queene of Love, lesse lovely was than she:
And Pyramus more sweet than tongue can tell,
Nature grew proud in framing them so well.
But Venus envying they so faire should be,
Bids her sonne Cupid shew his crueltie.

3

The all-subduing God his Bow doth bend,
And doth prepare his most remorselesse Dart,
Which he unseene unto their hearts did send,
And so was Love the cause of Beauties end.
But could he see, he had not wrought their smart:
For pittie sure would have o'recome his heart.

32

4

Like as a Bird which in a Net is tane,
By strugling more entangles in the ginne;
So they who in Loves Labyrinth remaine,
With striving never can a freedome gaine.
The way to enter's broad; but being in,
No art, no labour, can an exit win.

5

These Lovers, though their Parents did reprove
Their fires, and watch'd their deeds with jealousie,
Though in these stormes no comfort could remove
The various doubts, and feares that coole hot love:
Though he nor hers, nor she his face could see,
Yet this did not abolish Loves Decree.

6

For age had crack'd the wall which did them part,
This the unanimate couple soone did spie,
And here their inward sorrowes did impart,
Unlading the sad burthen of their heart.
Though Love be blinde, this shewes he can descry
A way to lessen his owne misery.

7

Oft to the friendly Crannie they resort,
And feede themselves with the cœlestiall ayre
Of odoriferous breath; no other sport
They could enjoy, yet thinke the time but short:
And wish that it againe renewed were,
To sucke each others breath for ever there.

8

Sometimes they did exclaime against their fate,
And sometimes they accus'd imperiall Jove;
Sometimes repent their flames: but all too late;
The Arrow could not be recall'd: their state
Ordained was by Jupiter above,
And Cupid had appointed they should love.

33

9

They curst the wall which did their kisses part,
And to the stones their dolorous words they sent,
As if they saw the sorrow of their heart,
And by their teares could understand their smart:
But it was hard, and knew not what they meant,
Nor with their sighs (alas) would it relent.

10

This in effect they said; Curs'd wall, O why
Wilt thou our bodies sever, whose true love
Breakes thorow all thy flintie crueltie:
For both our soules so closely joyned lye,
That nought but angry Death can them remove,
And though he part them, yet they'l meet above.

11

Abortive teares from their faire eyes straight flow'd,
And damm'd the lovely splendour of their [si]ght,
Which seem'd like Titan, whilst some watry Cloud
O'respreads his face, and his bright beames doth shrowd.
Till Vesper chas'd away the conquered light,
And forceth them (though loth) to bid Good-night.

12

But ere Aurora, Usher to the Day,
Began with welcome lustre to appeare,
The Lovers rise, and at that crannie they
Thus to each other, their thoughts open lay,
With many a Sigh, many a speaking Teare,
Whose griefe the pitying Morning blusht to heare.

13

Deare Love (quoth Pyramus) how long shall wee
Like fairest Flowers, not gathered in their prime,
Waste precious youth, and let advantage flee,
Till wee bewaile (at last) our crueltie
Upon our selves, for Beautie though it shine
Like day, will quickly finde an Evening time.

34

14

Therefore (sweet Thisbe) let us meet this night
At Ninus Tombe, without the Citie wall,
Under the Mulberry-Tree, with Berries white
Abounding, there t'enjoy our wisht delight.
For mounting Love stopt in his course, doth fall,
And long'd for, yet untasted Joy, kills all.

15

What though our cruell parents angry bee?
What though our friends (alas) are too unkinde?
Time now propitious, may anon deny,
And soone hold backe, fit opportunity.
Who lets slip Fortune, her shall never finde.
Occasion once pass'd by, is balde behinde.

16

Shee soone agreed to that which hee requir'd,
For little Wooing needs, where both consent;
What hee so long had pleaded, shee desir'd:
Which Venus seeing, with blinde Chance conspir'd,
And many a charming accent to her sent,
That shee (at last) would frustrate their intent.

17

Thus Beautie is by Beauties meanes undone,
Striving to close these eyes that make her bright;
Just like the Moone, which seekes t'eclipse the Sun,
Whence all her splendour, all her beames doe come:
So shee, who fetcheth lustre from their sight,
Doth purpose to destroy their glorious light.

18

Unto the Mulberry-tree, sweet Thisbe came;
Where having rested long, at last shee gan
Against her Pyramus for to exclaime,
Whil'st various thoughts turmoile her troubled braine:
And imitating thus the Silver Swan,
A little while before her Death shee sang.

35

The Song.

1

Come Love, why stayest thou? The night
Will vanish ere wee taste delight:
The Moone obscures her selfe from sight,
Thou absent, whose eyes give her light.

2

Come quickly, Deare, be briefe as Time,
Or wee by Morne shall be o'retane,
Loves Joy's thine owne as well as mine,
Spend not therefore the time in vaine.

19

Here doubtfull thoughts broke off her pleasant Song,
Against her love for staying shee gan crie;
Her Pyramus shee thought did tarry long,
And that his absence did her too much wrong.
Then betwixt longing hope, and jealousie,
Shee feares, yet's loth, to tax his loyaltie.

20

Sometimes shee thinkes, that hee hath her forsaken;
Sometimes, that danger hath befallen to him;
Shee feares that hee another love hath taken:
Which being but imagin'd, soone doth waken
Numberlesse thoughts, which on her heart doe fling
Feares, that her future fate too truely sing.

21

Whil'st shee thus musing sate, ranne from the Wood
An angry Lyon, to the cristall Springs
Neere to that place; who comming from his food,
His chaps were all besmear'd with crimson bloud:
Swifter then thought, sweet Thisbe straight begins
To flye from him, feare gave her Swallowes wings.

36

22

As shee avoids the Lion, her desire
Bids her to stay, lest Pyramus should come,
And be devour'd by the sterne Lions ire,
So shee for ever burne in unquencht fire:
But feare expells all reasons, shee doth runne
Into a darksome Cave, ne'r seene by Sunne.

23

With haste shee let her looser Mantle fall:
Which when th'enraged Lion did espie,
With bloudy teeth, he tore't in pieces small,
Whil'st Thisbe ran and lookt not backe at all.
For could the sencelesse beast her face descrie,
It had not done her such an injurie.

24

The night halfe wasted, Pyramus did come;
Who seeing printed in the subtill sand
The Lions paw, and by the fountaine some
Of Thisbes garment, sorrow strucke him dumbe:
Just like a Marble Statue did he stand,
Cut by some skilfull Gravers cunning hand.

25

Recovering breath, 'gainst Fate he gan t'exclaime,
Washing with teares the torne and bloudy weed:
I may, said he, my selfe for her death blame;
Therefore my bloud shall wash away that shame:
Since shee is dead, whose Beautie doth exceed
All that fraile man can either heare or reade.

26

This speaking, hee his sharpe Sword drew, and said;
Receive thou my red bloud, as a due debt
Unto thy constant Love, to which 'tis paid:
I straight will meete thee in the pleasant shade
Of coole Elysium; where wee being met,
Shall taste the Joyes, that here wee could not yet.

37

27

Then thorow his brest thrusting his Sword, Life hies
From him, and hee makes haste to seeke his faire.
And as upon the crimsond ground hee lies,
His bloud spirt'd up upon the Mulberries:
With which th'unspotted berries stained were,
And ever since with Red they coloured are.

28

At last, came Thisbe from the Den, for feare
Of disappointing Pyramus, being shee
Was bound by promise, for to meete him there:
But when shee saw the Berries changed were
From white to blacke, shee knew not certainely
It was the place where they agreed to be.

29

With what delight from the darke Cave shee came,
Thinking to tell how shee escap'd the Beast;
But when shee saw her Pyramus lie slaine,
In what perplexitie shee did remaine!
Shee teares her Golden haire, and beates her brest,
All signes of raging sorrow shee exprest.

30

Shee cries 'gainst mighty Jove, and then doth take
His bleeding body from the moistned ground.
Shee kisses his pale face, till shee doth make
It red with kissing, and then seekes to wake
His parting soule with mournfull words, and's wound
Washeth with teares, which her sweet speech confound.

31

But afterwards recovering breath, quoth shee,
(Alas) what chance hath parted thee and I?
O tell what evill hath befallen to thee,
That of thy Death I may a Partner bee:
Tell Thisbe, what hath caus'd this Tragedie.
He hearing Thisbe's name, lift up his eye,

38

32

And on his Love he rais'd his dying head:
Where striving long for breath, at last, said hee;
O Thisbe, I am hasting to the dead,
And cannot heale that Wound my feare hath bred:
Farewell, sweet Thisbe, wee must parted bee,
For angry Death will force me goe from Thee.

33

Life did from him, hee from his Mistris part,
Leaving his Love to languish here in woe.
What shall shee doe? How shall shee ease her heart?
Or with what language speake her inward smart?
Usuring passion reason doth o'reflow,
Shee sweares that with her Pyramus shee'l goe.

34

Then takes the Sword wherewith her Love was slaine,
With Pyramus his crimson blood warme still;
And said, Oh stay (blest Soule) that so wee twaine
May goe together, where wee shall remaine
In endlesse Joyes, and never feare the ill
Of grudging Friends: Then she her selfe did kill.

35

To tell what griefe their Parents did sustaine,
Were more than my rude Quill can overcome.
Many a teare they spent, but all in vaine,
For weeping calls not backe the Dead againe.
They both were layed in one Grave, life done,
And these few words were writ upon the Tombe.

39

Epitaph.

1

Underneath this Marble Stone,
Lye two Beauties joyn'd in one.

2

Two whose loves Death could not sever,
For both liv'd, both dy'd together.

3

Two whose Soules, being too divine
For earth, in their owne Spheare now shine.

4

Who have left their Loves to Fame,
And their earth to earth againe.
FINIS.