[Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] [by Robert Tofte] |
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Elegie. II. The complaint of the second Gentleman Don Infelice,
who with sorrow wept out his eyes.
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 | [Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] |  |
Elegie. II. The complaint of the second Gentleman Don Infelice, who with sorrow wept out his eyes.
If euer man had fortune bad,
It is my selfe, for I haue had
Worse then the worst, and will assay
To tell the same, (woes haue no stay)
For as the Sea not greater growes
Although all waters to it flowes:
So though I still my moanes expresse
Yet are my grieues no whit the lesse.
Nor can I at this present sorrow,
More then I did last day and morrow:
And though my woes-tides are so hie,
That they doe drowne mine heart and eye.
Yet shall my sorrowes striue to tell,
Why these afflictions in mee dwell:
Ile show why I am sicke and blinde,
Though her disdaine is all vnkinde.
And thus my Swannes song I beginne,
A solemne diergie for my sinne.
It is my selfe, for I haue had
Worse then the worst, and will assay
To tell the same, (woes haue no stay)
For as the Sea not greater growes
Although all waters to it flowes:
So though I still my moanes expresse
Yet are my grieues no whit the lesse.
Nor can I at this present sorrow,
More then I did last day and morrow:
And though my woes-tides are so hie,
That they doe drowne mine heart and eye.
Yet shall my sorrowes striue to tell,
Why these afflictions in mee dwell:
Ile show why I am sicke and blinde,
Though her disdaine is all vnkinde.
And thus my Swannes song I beginne,
A solemne diergie for my sinne.
When twentie yeares I was of age,
I bound my selfe proud Cupids page,
And from him learnt to loue a dame,
That was of pearlesse mould and frame:
And her so much I did adore,
That neuer man did like before.
Her loued I long, and that so deare,
As to disclose it I durst ne're:
No not so much as make my thought,
Priuie to what my mind had wrought.
Much lesse to let the world or friends,
Know any of my louing ends.
Thus all content with mine owne ill,
I in this secret fire burnt still,
Imagining twixt her and mee,
Was one selfe flame, one simpathie,
Which hope so bound vp all my sence,
Finding fit place for mine offence:
That I was bold and did discouer
(Twixt hope and feare that guards the louer)
Th'affection which to her I bare,
The onely source of all my care:
Desiring her most piteously,
With faltering tongue and weeping eye,
Or to accept me for her slaue,
Or friend in whom she might ingraue
Her priuate counsels, and withall,
Into her eare I told a tale,
Of mighty waight which did concerne her,
And with stong reasons so did learne her,
What from an earnest plainnesse came,
That I confest I was too blame,
To take so great a taske in hand,
And knew not how my grace did stand.
I bound my selfe proud Cupids page,
And from him learnt to loue a dame,
That was of pearlesse mould and frame:
And her so much I did adore,
That neuer man did like before.
Her loued I long, and that so deare,
As to disclose it I durst ne're:
No not so much as make my thought,
Priuie to what my mind had wrought.
Much lesse to let the world or friends,
Know any of my louing ends.
Thus all content with mine owne ill,
I in this secret fire burnt still,
Imagining twixt her and mee,
Was one selfe flame, one simpathie,
11
Finding fit place for mine offence:
That I was bold and did discouer
(Twixt hope and feare that guards the louer)
Th'affection which to her I bare,
The onely source of all my care:
Desiring her most piteously,
With faltering tongue and weeping eye,
Or to accept me for her slaue,
Or friend in whom she might ingraue
Her priuate counsels, and withall,
Into her eare I told a tale,
Of mighty waight which did concerne her,
And with stong reasons so did learne her,
What from an earnest plainnesse came,
That I confest I was too blame,
To take so great a taske in hand,
And knew not how my grace did stand.
No sooner did my speech expire,
But she clad with disdaine and tire,
As if the tale which I beganne,
Were made to vexe her: lookes all wanne,
Lowers, and turnes from me her face,
(A certaine signe of my disgrace)
And then with lightning from her frowne,
So dead she strikes me in a swoune,
That yet my soule doth sigh and quake,
To thinke what rigour her lookes spake:
And when I call into my minde,
How much her hate did show vnkind,
Whilst through disdaine and feare I lay,
Like to a lumpe of sencelesse clay,
Seeming no man but marble rather,
Whence onely she my teares might gather:
At length vprose I from the place,
Wailing and weeping in sad case,
Cursing my tongue the cause of all,
Th'afflictions did on me befall.
And euer since my teare-fild eyes,
Haue wept so much in lauish wise,
That blind at last I am become,
And with my sorrowes stroken dumbe.
Some yeares are past, since thus with sorrow,
I haue consum'd daies, nights, and morrow.
And now mine eyes can shed no more,
Griefes fire hath burnt them vp so sore.
Yet huge woes with my heart doth tarry,
Which reason saith my tongue should carry.
O euill vniust, my tongue did ill,
And yet mine eyes are plagued still:
For her I plaged am, for whom
I must aliue goe to my tombe:
For her whose like no Sunne hath seene,
Be't Nymph or Fayrie, Muse, or Queene.
So cruell none, nor one so fayre,
As she that driues me to despaire:
But she clad with disdaine and tire,
As if the tale which I beganne,
Were made to vexe her: lookes all wanne,
Lowers, and turnes from me her face,
(A certaine signe of my disgrace)
And then with lightning from her frowne,
So dead she strikes me in a swoune,
That yet my soule doth sigh and quake,
To thinke what rigour her lookes spake:
And when I call into my minde,
How much her hate did show vnkind,
Whilst through disdaine and feare I lay,
Like to a lumpe of sencelesse clay,
Seeming no man but marble rather,
Whence onely she my teares might gather:
At length vprose I from the place,
Wailing and weeping in sad case,
Cursing my tongue the cause of all,
Th'afflictions did on me befall.
And euer since my teare-fild eyes,
Haue wept so much in lauish wise,
That blind at last I am become,
And with my sorrowes stroken dumbe.
Some yeares are past, since thus with sorrow,
I haue consum'd daies, nights, and morrow.
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Griefes fire hath burnt them vp so sore.
Yet huge woes with my heart doth tarry,
Which reason saith my tongue should carry.
O euill vniust, my tongue did ill,
And yet mine eyes are plagued still:
For her I plaged am, for whom
I must aliue goe to my tombe:
For her whose like no Sunne hath seene,
Be't Nymph or Fayrie, Muse, or Queene.
So cruell none, nor one so fayre,
As she that driues me to despaire:
When first to looke on her I dar'd,
(O who would thinke mans fate so hard)
The torments that in me remained,
Were worse then those in hell contained.
Such was her cruelty vntam'd,
Against me that the world her blam'd.
And such a franticke passion bred,
Within my neuer resting head,
That euery time I saw her face,
Me thought I stood fore Plutos grace,
VVhilst vnto my calamity was showne
More tortures then on earth are knowne.
(O who would thinke mans fate so hard)
The torments that in me remained,
Were worse then those in hell contained.
Such was her cruelty vntam'd,
Against me that the world her blam'd.
And such a franticke passion bred,
Within my neuer resting head,
That euery time I saw her face,
Me thought I stood fore Plutos grace,
VVhilst vnto my calamity was showne
More tortures then on earth are knowne.
Besides I saw, when at first sight,
I was surprizd by beauty bright,
How on her gates hung all along,
Thousands of Chaynes, Ropes, Fetters strong:
Thousands of hearts, many a spoyle,
Of gentle Spirits which tooke the foyle,
Attyr'd in sabell colours sad,
VVith frosty heat, and hot frost clad.
Not farre from thence I might behold,
Millions of errors, selfe-will'd bold,
Thousands of woes without reliefe,
Anguish, Despaire, Ruth, Care and Griefe,
Anger, Disdaine, Burning Desire,
VVhich ouer much seem'd to aspire.
All which did march with tried faith,
Vnder the ensigne of great death.
Resoluing then boldly to enter,
In at this gate of wofull venter,
I tooke Desire to be my guide,
VVhilst Louelike Charon did abide,
My ferry-man, yet did not row,
In th'other floud as others doe,
But longst the fiery banks I went,
Through thicke and thinne with darke night spent.
The barke which seemed still to split,
And euery waue to couer it,
Was endlesse feare, and ielousie,
The oares, griefes thoughts, the sailes most hie:
To which my sighes at will did giue
Winds wherewithall the barge to driue.
But must I onwards go and tell,
How I did passe this lake of hell:
Then know so soone as beauty made,
Passage for mee, that I might wade,
Forthwith her cruelty vpon me set,
And stops my passage with strange let:
Makes me conceiue that Cerberus
Appeares in shape most ominous:
And barks on me with open throate,
That I was frighted in my boate.
The first sound of his voyce slue ioy,
The second fill'd me with annoy.
The third depriu'd my heart most cleane
Of euery hope, and left it slaine.
I was surprizd by beauty bright,
How on her gates hung all along,
Thousands of Chaynes, Ropes, Fetters strong:
Thousands of hearts, many a spoyle,
Of gentle Spirits which tooke the foyle,
Attyr'd in sabell colours sad,
VVith frosty heat, and hot frost clad.
Not farre from thence I might behold,
Millions of errors, selfe-will'd bold,
Thousands of woes without reliefe,
Anguish, Despaire, Ruth, Care and Griefe,
Anger, Disdaine, Burning Desire,
VVhich ouer much seem'd to aspire.
All which did march with tried faith,
Vnder the ensigne of great death.
Resoluing then boldly to enter,
In at this gate of wofull venter,
I tooke Desire to be my guide,
VVhilst Louelike Charon did abide,
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In th'other floud as others doe,
But longst the fiery banks I went,
Through thicke and thinne with darke night spent.
The barke which seemed still to split,
And euery waue to couer it,
Was endlesse feare, and ielousie,
The oares, griefes thoughts, the sailes most hie:
To which my sighes at will did giue
Winds wherewithall the barge to driue.
But must I onwards go and tell,
How I did passe this lake of hell:
Then know so soone as beauty made,
Passage for mee, that I might wade,
Forthwith her cruelty vpon me set,
And stops my passage with strange let:
Makes me conceiue that Cerberus
Appeares in shape most ominous:
And barks on me with open throate,
That I was frighted in my boate.
The first sound of his voyce slue ioy,
The second fill'd me with annoy.
The third depriu'd my heart most cleane
Of euery hope, and left it slaine.
O when I call to memory,
This hard encounter, then I die.
For then it was when quite was broke.
The strongest stay of all my hope:
And without rites of funerall,
There my delights were buried all:
Depriued thus of all reliefe,
And ouerwhelm'd with true hearts griefe,
Full of despaire I could not find,
Ought that had power to ease my mind.
And therefore I beganne againe,
Though past all plaints to plaine amaine:
Which done, that I might onwards go,
From further ill to worser woe.
I was with horror so agast,
That in his throate my heart I cast,
Not to suffice endlesse desire,
For that could ne're her hunger tire.
This hard encounter, then I die.
For then it was when quite was broke.
The strongest stay of all my hope:
And without rites of funerall,
There my delights were buried all:
Depriued thus of all reliefe,
And ouerwhelm'd with true hearts griefe,
Full of despaire I could not find,
Ought that had power to ease my mind.
And therefore I beganne againe,
Though past all plaints to plaine amaine:
Which done, that I might onwards go,
From further ill to worser woe.
I was with horror so agast,
That in his throate my heart I cast,
Not to suffice endlesse desire,
For that could ne're her hunger tire.
Passing from thence I might perceiue
Her golden haires which winds did heaue,
To be liue serpents venomed,
Crawling like snakes about her head.
This stroke such terror in my brest,
As quite exild from thence all rest,
So that I grew to haue strange fits,
And in the end lost sence and wits.
Her golden haires which winds did heaue,
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Crawling like snakes about her head.
This stroke such terror in my brest,
As quite exild from thence all rest,
So that I grew to haue strange fits,
And in the end lost sence and wits.
But when imagination came,
To view her forehead, (seate of Fame)
Me thought a stone fell on me still,
Whose pondrous waight, my soule did kill.
So that were I farre off or no,
Yet still my strong conceite ranne so.
Thus though it fell not, nor did wound,
Yet double was my torment found.
For why, my life but seeming was,
And therein did all death surpasse:
O life farre worse then any death,
To languish with a tedious breath,
Fearing and feard, expecting still
The banefull moment that must kill.
To view her forehead, (seate of Fame)
Me thought a stone fell on me still,
Whose pondrous waight, my soule did kill.
So that were I farre off or no,
Yet still my strong conceite ranne so.
Thus though it fell not, nor did wound,
Yet double was my torment found.
For why, my life but seeming was,
And therein did all death surpasse:
O life farre worse then any death,
To languish with a tedious breath,
Fearing and feard, expecting still
The banefull moment that must kill.
From thence descending downe mine eyes,
Vpon her eye-lids (clouds in skies)
I saw them dyed, to my hearts wracke,
Within forgetfull matters blacke:
Whilst proud Disdaine wth mortall strife,
Sunke to the bottome my poore life,
And there by hand of Desteny,
It was quite drownd maliciously.
Vpon her eye-lids (clouds in skies)
I saw them dyed, to my hearts wracke,
Within forgetfull matters blacke:
Whilst proud Disdaine wth mortall strife,
Sunke to the bottome my poore life,
And there by hand of Desteny,
It was quite drownd maliciously.
Thus following on vaine false desire,
My prowder eyes dar'd to aspire,
Whilst they two radiant starres behold,
Starres which both gods and men controld.
These whilst I viewed I might perceiue
The wicked sisters how they heaue:
Their empty payles, to empty oft,
(although in vaine) which they had brought
From forth the riuer of my teares:
Yet ne're to end their labour weares,
Whilst still the water doth encrease,
Nor from their paines they euer cease.
For more they seeke to emptie it,
The more my teares fill vp that pit.
Nor can it euer be drawne drie,
As long as she harsh cruelty
Doth entertaine within her eyes,
Which now she gardeth souldier-wise.
My prowder eyes dar'd to aspire,
Whilst they two radiant starres behold,
Starres which both gods and men controld.
These whilst I viewed I might perceiue
The wicked sisters how they heaue:
Their empty payles, to empty oft,
(although in vaine) which they had brought
From forth the riuer of my teares:
Yet ne're to end their labour weares,
Whilst still the water doth encrease,
Nor from their paines they euer cease.
For more they seeke to emptie it,
The more my teares fill vp that pit.
Nor can it euer be drawne drie,
As long as she harsh cruelty
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Which now she gardeth souldier-wise.
But when within her cheekes I see,
So many louely flowers agree,
So many amours and delights,
Which doe bewitch the noblest sprits,
To toy, to ieast, to sport: the while,
If she but chance to grant one smile,
O then I find that I am bound,
Vpon that wheele goes euer round:
So fast I turne as I no peace,
Can haue, nor ere from turning cease.
O neuer heard of torment strange,
This is my plague, nor can it change.
I flie must from my selfe amaine,
And follow then my selfe againe.
So many louely flowers agree,
So many amours and delights,
Which doe bewitch the noblest sprits,
To toy, to ieast, to sport: the while,
If she but chance to grant one smile,
O then I find that I am bound,
Vpon that wheele goes euer round:
So fast I turne as I no peace,
Can haue, nor ere from turning cease.
O neuer heard of torment strange,
This is my plague, nor can it change.
I flie must from my selfe amaine,
And follow then my selfe againe.
From forth her lips and mouth proceeds,
The Vulture which vpon me feeds,
Making his feathers smooth and good,
Onely by drinking on my bloud.
Yet not so pleas'd, vpon my brest
He feeds and ty'rs without all rest.
Which done, the more to make me rew,
My flesh and entrals grow anew:
So as not being satisfied,
I forc'st am fresh assault to bide,
Whilst breast nor entrals it will spare,
Nor for milde pitie taketh care.
The Vulture which vpon me feeds,
Making his feathers smooth and good,
Onely by drinking on my bloud.
Yet not so pleas'd, vpon my brest
He feeds and ty'rs without all rest.
Which done, the more to make me rew,
My flesh and entrals grow anew:
So as not being satisfied,
I forc'st am fresh assault to bide,
Whilst breast nor entrals it will spare,
Nor for milde pitie taketh care.
When I behold her throat snow white,
My heart is then in worst worst plight.
For then I make a sure account,
With Sisiphus the hill to mount,
Rolling the waighty stone thereon,
Which soone againe falles him vpon.
O toyling torment too too sure,
For euerlasting to endure,
VVhilst what I fling vp to the hill,
Retorts and falles vpon me still.
Thus doth my trauaile me turmoyle,
Thus time makes torments to recoyle,
Thus to the mountains top I scale.
Thus I descend downe to the vale.
And where my ending should be found,
There's the beginning of my wound,
Which like my woes without all end,
Waxe worse and worse, but neuer mend.
My heart is then in worst worst plight.
For then I make a sure account,
With Sisiphus the hill to mount,
Rolling the waighty stone thereon,
Which soone againe falles him vpon.
O toyling torment too too sure,
For euerlasting to endure,
VVhilst what I fling vp to the hill,
Retorts and falles vpon me still.
Thus doth my trauaile me turmoyle,
Thus time makes torments to recoyle,
Thus to the mountains top I scale.
Thus I descend downe to the vale.
And where my ending should be found,
There's the beginning of my wound,
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Waxe worse and worse, but neuer mend.
Her beauteous bosome did appeare,
A golden fruite, a riuer cleare,
Whilst I like Tantalus did stand
Staru'd yet with foode and drinke at hand.
For when mine open mouth would catch,
Or mine outstretched hand would snatch,
To stanch my thirst or hungers paine,
But all my purposes are vaine:
The Aples quickly doe denay me,
Nor will the water longer stay me.
I cannot taste nor haue a sip,
Though fruite and spring touch mouth and lip.
O false deceitfull hope that thus,
Mak'st my poore soule ridiculous.
The more because (although in vaine)
It is so mockt and put to paine.
Whilst all it wishes it beholdeth,
Yet not the least of all infoldeth.
This is the cause hunger and thirst,
Increase and make me more accurst.
Whilst I for my reliefe doe finde,
Bare shadowes and deceitfull wind.
O ill of ils, still to desire,
Yet neuer quench one sparke of fire:
A golden fruite, a riuer cleare,
Whilst I like Tantalus did stand
Staru'd yet with foode and drinke at hand.
For when mine open mouth would catch,
Or mine outstretched hand would snatch,
To stanch my thirst or hungers paine,
But all my purposes are vaine:
The Aples quickly doe denay me,
Nor will the water longer stay me.
I cannot taste nor haue a sip,
Though fruite and spring touch mouth and lip.
O false deceitfull hope that thus,
Mak'st my poore soule ridiculous.
The more because (although in vaine)
It is so mockt and put to paine.
Whilst all it wishes it beholdeth,
Yet not the least of all infoldeth.
This is the cause hunger and thirst,
Increase and make me more accurst.
Whilst I for my reliefe doe finde,
Bare shadowes and deceitfull wind.
O ill of ils, still to desire,
Yet neuer quench one sparke of fire:
Descending downwards then apace,
Alongst a secret pleasant place,
I might perceiue it was the way,
To those blest fields where blessed stay
All happie Ghosts, but hard alas,
To finde it seem'd, no path there was:
And I to enter was forbidden,
And all my strong intreaties chidden.
Though ne're so violent and hard,
Yet from those ioyes I was deba'rd:
But woe alas, all men must grieue,
That doe in others trust beleeue.
For there my false guide did forsake me,
And to errors did betake me.
There went he in, the more my moane,
Shutting the gate gainst me alone.
Thus hauing lost both hope and guide,
To enter in by prayers I tride;
I knockt aloud, then low and soft,
I offerd giftes and vowes full oft:
And yet for all, all would not serue,
I there was doomb'd to stand and sterue.
Onely I this might heare him speake,
The more my care-torne heart to breake:
Ne're looke to see me any more,
But passe with silence from this dore.
Which iudgement when I had receiued,
T'was vaine to stay, and be denied.
Hence sprang it that I came away,
Accompanied as my sole stay,
With my sad thoughts, whilst I inuayd,
Gainst loue that such a part had plaid
With me, who was to him more true,
Then Sunne had seene, or old Time knew.
Since when I still haue liued alone,
Intomb'd in hell with irksome moane:
Depriu'd of day light, and the Sunne,
A man disgrac'st and all vndone.
This is my fortune and my fate,
This of my life is now the state.
Death more then life I doe endure,
A small reward, for faith so pure.
Had I bene false, I could but trie
The torments due t'inconstancie,
But women wanting moderation,
Linke their loues to euery passion.
Yet come the worst, this prayer I loue,
O let my Mistresse happie proue.
Alongst a secret pleasant place,
I might perceiue it was the way,
To those blest fields where blessed stay
All happie Ghosts, but hard alas,
To finde it seem'd, no path there was:
And I to enter was forbidden,
And all my strong intreaties chidden.
Though ne're so violent and hard,
Yet from those ioyes I was deba'rd:
But woe alas, all men must grieue,
That doe in others trust beleeue.
For there my false guide did forsake me,
And to errors did betake me.
There went he in, the more my moane,
Shutting the gate gainst me alone.
Thus hauing lost both hope and guide,
To enter in by prayers I tride;
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I offerd giftes and vowes full oft:
And yet for all, all would not serue,
I there was doomb'd to stand and sterue.
Onely I this might heare him speake,
The more my care-torne heart to breake:
Ne're looke to see me any more,
But passe with silence from this dore.
Which iudgement when I had receiued,
T'was vaine to stay, and be denied.
Hence sprang it that I came away,
Accompanied as my sole stay,
With my sad thoughts, whilst I inuayd,
Gainst loue that such a part had plaid
With me, who was to him more true,
Then Sunne had seene, or old Time knew.
Since when I still haue liued alone,
Intomb'd in hell with irksome moane:
Depriu'd of day light, and the Sunne,
A man disgrac'st and all vndone.
This is my fortune and my fate,
This of my life is now the state.
Death more then life I doe endure,
A small reward, for faith so pure.
Had I bene false, I could but trie
The torments due t'inconstancie,
But women wanting moderation,
Linke their loues to euery passion.
Yet come the worst, this prayer I loue,
O let my Mistresse happie proue.
| [Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] | |