Natures Embassie Or, The Wilde-mans Measvres: Danced naked by twelve Satyres, with sundry others continued in the next Section [by Richard Brathwait] |
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III. ELEGIE.
[LOVE STAIND WITH LVST.]
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 | Natures Embassie |  |
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III. ELEGIE. [LOVE STAIND WITH LVST.]
The Argument.
The losse of Didoes honour and her loue,Are both bemon'd: Anna but all in vaine,
Seekes to recomfort her: she seemes to proue
No faith in strangers: she dissolues her traine:
Incense is burn'd; a fire she doth deuise,
Wherein she makes her selfe the sacrifice.
Dido lamenting, that Æneas should
So soone conuert his loue to bitter hate,
The thought whereof surpast a thousand fold,
The losse of Scepter, honour, or estate:
Curseth the hap she had to entertaine,
Or giue such harbour to a thanklesse Swaine.
So soone conuert his loue to bitter hate,
The thought whereof surpast a thousand fold,
The losse of Scepter, honour, or estate:
Curseth the hap she had to entertaine,
Or giue such harbour to a thanklesse Swaine.
Yet do not so (quoth she,) he's generous,
Sprong from the Troian stocke and Progenie:
Curse him not Dido, it were ominous
To his proceedings and his dignitie;
He did requite thy loue, thou knowst deuoutly,
And did performe his Turnaments as stoutly.
Sprong from the Troian stocke and Progenie:
Curse him not Dido, it were ominous
To his proceedings and his dignitie;
He did requite thy loue, thou knowst deuoutly,
And did performe his Turnaments as stoutly.
Sweete was the Pleasure, though the fruite be sower,
Deare his embraces, kind his fauours too,
Witnesse that Bower (aye me) that rosie Bower,
In which heauen knowes, and few but heauen do know,
I gag'd my heart to him, he his to me,
Which makes me ty'd in faith how ere he be.
Deare his embraces, kind his fauours too,
Witnesse that Bower (aye me) that rosie Bower,
In which heauen knowes, and few but heauen do know,
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Which makes me ty'd in faith how ere he be.
And he protested, Simple woman, thou
To credit what a stranger had protested:
For what is he that liues, and will not do
As much or more, till he hath fully feasted
His eager Appetite, which being allaid,
He streight forgets the promise he hath made?
To credit what a stranger had protested:
For what is he that liues, and will not do
As much or more, till he hath fully feasted
His eager Appetite, which being allaid,
He streight forgets the promise he hath made?
And so did he, respectlesse of his vow,
Or (breach of faith) which whatsoere he thinke,
Will be reueng'd by Heauen; and sharply too,
Gods do not euer sleepe when they do winke.
For though they spare, They will at last strike home,
And send Reuenge to th' infant in my wombe.
Or (breach of faith) which whatsoere he thinke,
Will be reueng'd by Heauen; and sharply too,
Gods do not euer sleepe when they do winke.
For though they spare, They will at last strike home,
And send Reuenge to th' infant in my wombe.
Poore Orphane Infant, whose iniurious birth,
As closely done, shall closely be suppressed,
And haue a double Mother, Mee and Earth,
And for thy Fathers sake a double chest:
Whose Tombe shall be my wombe, whose drerie shrowd,
Shall be my selfe, that gaue it life and food.
As closely done, shall closely be suppressed,
And haue a double Mother, Mee and Earth,
And for thy Fathers sake a double chest:
Whose Tombe shall be my wombe, whose drerie shrowd,
Shall be my selfe, that gaue it life and food.
This as she spake her Sister she came in,
Aduising her vnto a milder course,
Then to afflict her selfe with thought of him
Whose heart was reft of pittie and remorse;
Wherefore (said she) since sorrow is in vaine,
Forget his absence, that will salue your paine.
Aduising her vnto a milder course,
Then to afflict her selfe with thought of him
Whose heart was reft of pittie and remorse;
Wherefore (said she) since sorrow is in vaine,
Forget his absence, that will salue your paine.
Will salue my paine (quoth she!) and then she gron'd,
Cures to apply is easier then to cure:
No, no, my sorrowes may be well bemon'd,
But nere redrest: for th' eye of heau'n's too pure,
To view my sinne, my soile, my guilt, my staine,
Whose die's so deepe 'twill nere be white againe.
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No, no, my sorrowes may be well bemon'd,
But nere redrest: for th' eye of heau'n's too pure,
To view my sinne, my soile, my guilt, my staine,
Whose die's so deepe 'twill nere be white againe.
Yet to preuent the scandall would ensue,
If fame should know what hath in priuate bene,
I'le lop this Branch, lest Time should say, it grew
(Adulterate Issue) from the Carthage Queene:
Which ere I do, lest I incurre heauens hate,
With Incense burn'd, their wrath I'le expiate.
If fame should know what hath in priuate bene,
I'le lop this Branch, lest Time should say, it grew
(Adulterate Issue) from the Carthage Queene:
Which ere I do, lest I incurre heauens hate,
With Incense burn'd, their wrath I'le expiate.
Wherewith I'le purge (if such may purged be)
The fact I did, which grieues me that I did,
Staining my honour with his periurie,
Which gods do see, though it from man be hid:
For this (deare sister) build me here a fire,
To sacrifice my shame, appease heauens ire.
The fact I did, which grieues me that I did,
Staining my honour with his periurie,
Which gods do see, though it from man be hid:
For this (deare sister) build me here a fire,
To sacrifice my shame, appease heauens ire.
Anna, for so her Sister hight, doth rere
This fatall pile, preparing all things meete
For such a sacrifice, as Iuniper,
Spicknarde, and Mirrhe, to make the Incense sweete,
Unknowne to what her Sister did intend,
Whose faire pretence came to a timelesse end.
This fatall pile, preparing all things meete
For such a sacrifice, as Iuniper,
Spicknarde, and Mirrhe, to make the Incense sweete,
Unknowne to what her Sister did intend,
Whose faire pretence came to a timelesse end.
Sister (quoth Dido) now you may be gone,
Sweete is Deuotion that is most retir'd,
Go you aside, and leaue me here alone,
Which Anna did as Dido had requir'd:
Who now alone with heauen-erected eyes,
Her wofull selfe she makes the sacrifice.
Sweete is Deuotion that is most retir'd,
Go you aside, and leaue me here alone,
Which Anna did as Dido had requir'd:
Who now alone with heauen-erected eyes,
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Anna retir'd, did heare her Sister shrike,
With which at first affrighted, she made haste,
To see th' euent, the sight whereof did strike
Such a distraction in her, as it past
The bounds of Nature, where experience tries,
More sorrow's in the heart then in the eyes.
With which at first affrighted, she made haste,
To see th' euent, the sight whereof did strike
Such a distraction in her, as it past
The bounds of Nature, where experience tries,
More sorrow's in the heart then in the eyes.
At last her eyes long shut vnsealed were,
To eye that mournfull Obiect, now halfe turn'd
To mouldred ashes, for it did appeare,
As halfe were scorch'd, the other halfe were burn'd:
Which seene, she cries, and turnes away her sight,
Black woe betide them that such guests inuite.
To eye that mournfull Obiect, now halfe turn'd
To mouldred ashes, for it did appeare,
As halfe were scorch'd, the other halfe were burn'd:
Which seene, she cries, and turnes away her sight,
Black woe betide them that such guests inuite.
Anna thus left alone, yet mindfull too,
Of Didoes honour, reares a Princely shrine,
The like whereof that Age could neuer show,
Nor any Age, till Artemisias time:
On which was this engrauen: Loue was my losse,
Rich was my Crowne, yet could not cure my crosse.
Of Didoes honour, reares a Princely shrine,
The like whereof that Age could neuer show,
Nor any Age, till Artemisias time:
On which was this engrauen: Loue was my losse,
Rich was my Crowne, yet could not cure my crosse.
Thus Dido di'd, who was not much vnlike
Unto the Countriman who nourished
The dead-staru'd Uiper, that vngratefull snake,
Who rest him life, that it had cherished:
So Dido she, whose fall my Muse recites,
Lies slaine by him, whom she in loue inuites.
Unto the Countriman who nourished
The dead-staru'd Uiper, that vngratefull snake,
Who rest him life, that it had cherished:
So Dido she, whose fall my Muse recites,
Lies slaine by him, whom she in loue inuites.
| Natures Embassie | |