Favnvs and Melliflora | ||
TO THE RIGHT Valorous and excellent accomplisht Gentleman, Maister Edward Stanley of Winwicke Esquire, all fortunes, sutable to the auncient woorth of the Stanleyes.
Of the Author.
The Greeke Comœdian fitly doth comparePoets to Swannes, for both delitious,
Both in request, both white, both pretious are,
Both sing alike, and both melodious:
I but the swanne remaineth dumbe so long,
(As though her Musike were too good to spend)
That so at last her soule-enchanting song,
Is but a funerall dirge to her end.
Weeuer, herein aboue the Swanne I praise,
Which freely spends his sweete melodious dittie,
Now in the budding of his youthful daies,
Delightsome, pleasant, full of Art, and wittie,
Yet heauens forbid he should be neare his death,
Though like the dying Swanne he sweetly breath.
M. D.
[Methinks I heare some foule-mouth'd Memus say]
Methinks
I heare some foule-mouth'd Memus say,
What haue we here? a shepheards roundelay?
More loue-tricks yet? will this geare neuer end,
But slight lasciuious toyes must still bee pend?
Content thee Memus, thou hast lost thy sight,
For this is neither vaine, obsceane, nor slight.
What haue we here? a shepheards roundelay?
More loue-tricks yet? will this geare neuer end,
But slight lasciuious toyes must still bee pend?
Content thee Memus, thou hast lost thy sight,
For this is neither vaine, obsceane, nor slight.
If for to write of Loue, and Loues delights,
Be not fit obiects for the grauer sights,
Then stil admired Chaucer, thou maist rue
And write thy auncient stories all anew:
And that same Fayry Muse may rise againe,
To blot those works that with vs do remaine.
Be not fit obiects for the grauer sights,
Then stil admired Chaucer, thou maist rue
And write thy auncient stories all anew:
And that same Fayry Muse may rise againe,
To blot those works that with vs do remaine.
Then feare not Weeuer, let thy Muse go on,
Thy maiden Muse, thy chaste Endimeon:
To blazon forth the loue of shepheard swaines,
As well in Cottage as in Court Loue raines.
And whosoeuer shall chance thy booke to see,
In it shall reade ripe wit, sweet Poetrie.
Thy maiden Muse, thy chaste Endimeon:
To blazon forth the loue of shepheard swaines,
As well in Cottage as in Court Loue raines.
And whosoeuer shall chance thy booke to see,
In it shall reade ripe wit, sweet Poetrie.
I. F.
[Faunus a siluan god, and Melliflora]
Faunus a siluan god, and MellifloraA sacred Nymph, that vsde among the woods,
Rose euery morning with the bright Aurora,
To gather garlands made of musk-rose buds:
In loue they liude long, and in loue they dide,
(O wonder not, that gods, and Nymphes can perish)
Obliuion buried them in their chiefe pride:
So all men die whom no sweete Muse doth cherish:
This Æsculapius by his cunning pen,
Reuiues the dead from their obscured graue,
Such sacred skill hath Art inspir'd in men,
And such a sweete reuiuing may I haue:
All Poets with greene Luirell crowne his head,
Whose pen makes liue, such as haue long bin dead.
T. H.
To the true fauorite of Heroicall Poetry M. Thomas Bromley of Deerefolde, Esquire.
Sith that the Author, and the Authors pen,At thy command are both as much as mine,
Thou maist demand, and iustly wonder then,
Aboue all other, why this booke is thine?
Or why this Poem, to a Poet send I,
Whose quicke inuention, iudgement, learning, wit,
Wilsoone perceiue, and see wherein offend I:
And where I might more scholler-like haue writ.
The Sunne guides altogether, yet alone
And singular the seate is of the Sunne:
To celebrate, and praise, all is not one,
I striue to stirre, before I stirre to runne:
And Melliflora (for the name) is meete
For thee, whose pen is slower and honnie sweete.
I. W.
FAVNVS and Melliflora
When
Ioue ambitious by his former sinnes,
(From him al Muses, so my Muse beginnes)
Deposde his Syre Saturnus from the throne,
And so vsurpt the Diadem alone:
Some higher power for aged Saturne stroue,
Gaue him a gift, which angred lust-stung Ioue:
A louely boy, whose beautie at his birth,
Made poore the heau'ns to enrich the earth.
(When Ioue no beautie in the heauens found,
Was he not angry? yea, and to the ground
Sent Mercurie, to wooe a shepheards swaine,
Whilst he himselfe came in a showre of raine:
Whose drizling drops fell into Danaes lappe,
Which to receiue, (maides wil receiue such happe)
She held hir skirt, Ioue such abundance powred,
Twentie to one but Danae was deflowred.)
His name was Pycus, yet surnam'd the Faire,
Whom Circe chaunted in her scorne-gold haire,
Whom Ladies lou'd, and loued of so many,
The wood-Nymphes woo'd him, yet not won of any,
Till Canens came, (who when she gan to sing,
The ayrie Bird would hoouer with her wing,
To heare her notes, for Canens she was call'd,
Of singing sweete) and Pycus heart enthrall'd:
Not married long, but Canens did enioy
Of fairest father, farre more faire a boy,
(That heau'n, & earth, in bringing forth these two,
Made a great bragge that so much they could do:)
Faunus a boy whose amber-stragling haires,
So strangely trammeld all about his eares,
The crispe disheuel'd playing with the winde,
Among the thickest, neuer way could finde,
But sweetest flowers would leape from Floraes lap,
And so themselues within his tresses wrap.
That glad he was those lockes (those lockes alone,
Those lockes that lockt in bondage many one:)
With carelesse art, or artlesse care infolde,
And draw them in a coronet of golde.
If bashfulnesse enveloped his face,
A prettie palenesse damask't such sweet grace,
Like Daisie with the Gilliflower distill'd,
Or Roses on a bed of Lillies spill'd:
Or rather when the wood-Nimphs gazing stood,
Loue like a tyrant therein threatned blood:
His eies were such, my Muse yet hardly can
Emblazon forth the beutie of a man:
My dullard muse to sing it may suffize,
Of his rich coate he wore in wondrous guize:
The ground whereof was veluet, white as snow,
Reaching vnto the ankles downe below,
With buttons made of Diamonds vpon,
Such as our knights of th' order first put on:
Vpon the left side it no fastning had,
But on the right side with a pearle staide,
Vpon th' one shoulder where the two ends met,
Were both together, with a iewell set,
On top whereof in liuely forme did stand,
Great Hercules with distaffe in his hand:
To euery seame were fastned ribonings,
With stories wrought of Emperours and Kings:
And at each ribbon hung a pretious stone,
(Loues chiefe disport consists in these alone)
Which were faire Ladies costly Amatists,
Tide to the tender small leau'de ozear twists,
That so they might his ribbons enterlace,
When he pursude the nimble Hart in chace:
And she grew prowd, and held the rest in scorne,
That knew her fauour by yong Faunus worne.
Poudred vpon so strange, that many thought
With purple coloured silke it had beene wrought:
But (ah alas) it was the crimson staine,
Of goddesses, which Faunus lookes had slaine:
About his necke he wore a falling band,
Which tooke it pride from his faire mothers hand:
His ivory feete, appearing vnto sight,
In murrey veluet, buskins rich were dight,
The middle slits with tyrian Bisse were laced,
Whose prettie knots his man-like legge embraced.
In many places bare as vse hath bin,
To shew the clearenesse of the naked skin.
The wanton boy attired in this sort,
Vnto the Latian mountaines did resort;
Whose prowde height garnisht with such stately trees,
Seemde to contemne the vally at his knees,
The humble vally in as good a state:
(But loftie Gallants lower minds do hate)
Was still replenisht with a pleasant riuer,
(Prowd of the gift, and yet more prowd the giuer,)
Whose wanton streames the bank so oft do kisse,
That in her lap (at length) he falling is:
Her bubbling water with slow gliding pace,
Shews her great griefe to leaue that pleasant place:
And with a murmure when she goes away.
Greatly laments she can no longer stay,
Cause th' vpper streams by violence would come,
To take possession of that ioyfull roome,
With swift pursute, and as they gin to chace it,
The bankes like armes doe louingly imbrace it:
Whose purling noise vpon the pibble stones,
For such departure are the dolefull grones:
Her teares exhalde such norishment doth giue,
As on the tree-fringd banks made Pleasure liue,
Among these trees a goodly Cypresse grew,
That all the lofty pines did ouer-view,
Who bow'd her faire head (in the sunnie gleames,)
To tresse her greene locks by those glassie streams.
Her top, her shade, vpon the Riuer show'd,
For the kind moisture on her root bestow'd,
Running vpon so delicate a ground,
As that the truth could neuer yet be found:
Whether it made the grauell pretious looke,
Or else the grauell purifide the brooke:
Whose meddowes greene enameled with roses,
(Twas Paradise some Poet yet supposes)
Added a shew so ruddie, that most deemed
The field to blush at his owne beautie seemed.
Neare to this valley Shepheards often met,
And by this valley sheepish squadrons set,
Within this valley past the time away,
With leapes and gamboles, and with other play:
Here the Nymphes playd such summer games as Base,
For it was summer alwaies in this place,
And Barlibreake, the which when Faunus saw,
So many wood-Nymphes standing on a row:
The boy, though yong, (yet who so yong that loues not,
Or who so old that womens beautie moues not?)
Spide Melliflora: Melliflora was
Among the number sitting on the grasse:
Sweete Melliflora I can tell ye true,
The grasse grew prowd that vnder her it grew.
Faire Melliflora, amorous, and yong,
Whose name, nor story, neuer Poet sung:
She wore a garland wrought with Amorets,
With orphrates ouerlaid and violets,
Whose lacinth loue-lockes hanged out so faire,
As drest the garland, garland drest the haire,
And enterlaced with a purle band,
(Like cristall Tagus through his golden sand)
Which hiding nowe, then hidden by the haire,
At fast and loose to play it did appeare,
Faire was her face yet fairer might haue beene,
If that the Sunne so often had not seene
Her louely face, for halfe the day he spent
In kissing her, yet neuer was content:
(For God or man thinkes he the Cushion misses,
That wooes all day, and winnes nought else but kisses)
Vntill the sunne with ouermuch desire
Of loue (for loue is hotter then the fire)
Consumde the wreathe of Diamonds in his throne:
(Ouid's beguilde, it was not Phaeton)
For Melliflora was the cause he burned,
His chariot, and the world to cinders turned.
Strange were her weedes to Faunus, yet not strange,
For in such weedes the wood-Nymphes vse to range,
A petticote tuckte euen with the knees,
Garnisht about with leaues of sundry trees:
And sometimes like a net drawne vp, and wrought,
(Which net the eagle-Ioue might well haue cought)
And all her garments made so light and thin,
(Who could restraine but thinke what was within)
And blacke silke laces whereon siluer bells
Did hang aboue her elbowes, and of shels
Her slippers were, her legges, her armes, her brest,
In many places naked, yet so drest,
As nakednesse another raiment scorned,
For she her cloaths, her cloaths not her adorned.
Faunus a farre off stood stone-still and gazed,
The more he lookt, the more Loue inly blazed,
He would haue quencht it with his teares, but then
(A sparke of beautie burnes a world of men)
It burnt the more, yet who can well refraine
From drinking water, when he feeles the paine
Of burning feuer, though that water drenches,
And turnes to fire, which like Loue neuer quenches:
But youth may loue, and yongmen may admire,
If old age cannot, yet it will desire.
For since that time old men of sixty yeeres.
(Bearing a beard, or rather, beard them beares)
Will heate their blouds with loue and yong wiues chuse,
(At such sweete weddings yongmen nothing loose)
Faunus kneel'd downe and vnto Uenus prayde,
Before his prayers were the one halfe said,
He thought it best vnto the Nimph to write
And shew his loue, but ginning to indite,
He tride the Muses with his often changes,
(Loue neuer loues to rest, but alwaies ranges.)
If once on Melliflora he did thinke,
He wet his paper both with teares and inke:
Fearing to end before he had begunne,
Mistrusting each word which his wit had done:
One was too darke, another was too plaine,
This word too loftie, and the other vaine.
That set not downe the sorrow of his hart,
This shew'd his passion, but it shew'd no Art:
He tore his papers, cast away his pen,
Sore was he grieude, and yet not angrie (men
In true loue are not angrie) for he knew,
The more hee studied, still the worse it grew:
Then he resolude to take the rose-strowne way,
Into the valley where he saw them play,
Accosted all with Uenus and the Graces:
With white haire hiding their enticing faces,
Which hand in hand would make a circle round,
With often turning, then themselues confound,
In Pyrrhus daunce like souldiers armed twine them,
And wedge-wise yoked in array combine them.
And when he came, that wood-Nymph was most faine,
That to their play might Faunus entertaine.
And if he spake, the Nymphs drew somewhat neare him,
To taste the sirrop of sweete wordes, and heare him.
And gray-eyd Dorys she would alwayes eye him,
Till she was strucke purblinde she could not see him:
Some wisht him sooner (though he came too soone)
Before the pleasure of the day was done:
Some saide, the night for Louers was the day,
And Loue delighted in the night to play,
For now the day his office gaue to night,
To lend our aduerse hemisphere his light.
The Nymphs requested Melliflora than,
To moue this sute to Faunus, she beganne:
I would we had such eloquence as might
Intreate your Highnesse lodge with vs all night,
We and our arbour euermore would rest
Content, and honourd with so great a ghest:
You shall but lie vpon a bed of roses,
Your sheetes white lillies, pillowes fragrant poses,
Your blankets flowerdeluces shall be drawne
With prety pinkes, your curtaines leasie lawne,
And in my bed, My, vnawares out slipt,
Her face bewraide how that her tongue had tript,
Which Faunus seeing, would haue kist her then,
To hide those blushes (oh how kind are men!)
Fresh she begins, thinking that word to alter,
The more she speakes, the more her tongue doth falter,
And gainst her will that My she spoke againe,
(Loue will not let such words be spoke in vaine.)
This past as vnregarded: Faunus said,
I were inhumane if this were denaid,
Orecome with ioy, they in the mid rancke set him,
He thought their arbour in the midway met him,
Such force of Musicke conquerd length of way,
With torches making artificiall day.
Aboue all trees in th odoriferous meades,
(With greene vine branches, curling their prowd heades,
And honni-suckles) at their lodging doore,
Doth grow the pleasing brode leau'de Sycamore:
Her entrances adornd with pretious stone,
Built in the forme of a pauillion:
Ridings cut out, so that the eie might iudge,
What Angells did inhabite in the lodge,
And like a comet (yet more pretious farre)
Stretching her tale vnto a lesser starre,
He pointed at a pleasant summer hall,
Wherein the Nymphes did vse to banquet all,
The coloured marble beautified the top,
Whose pillars seru'de the house to vnderprop,
And vnderneath whereas a riuer rode,
Was minerall, her streames an handfull broade,
Her shaking Christall was a perfect mirrour,
To all the beauties in the garden neare her,
Whose water washt them rather they did wash it,
For when their snow-white Iuorie hands would plash it,
(Like honie-bubbling Ladon; or Pirene,
Cleare Castalis, or luke-warme Hippocrene)
Vpon her face she makes ten thousand lines,
Ten thousand Saphir coloured bubbles shines,
As not content in large to haue their pinctures,
In each of them sets forth their liuely tinctures:
And comes againe to play, embrace, and threaten,
And laughes, and smiles, and leapes to be so beaten.
Behind this brooke or thicket was a greene,
Whereas fiue hundred grassie rounds had beene
Made one in one, like to these water rings,
Thence to a gallerie Melliflore him brings,
There was Diana: when Acteon saw her,
Bathing her selfe (alas he did not know her)
(A goldsmiths wife once nakt without her pearle,
Hard to be knowne is from a countrie gerle)
A foolish Nimph sate weeping (for loue can
Make goddesses like women loue a man)
The posture of whose limmes so liuely seated,
As Art and Nature Loue and Anger freated:
Within this gallerie whenas Faunus comes,
The grapes with childe, and diuers coloured plums,
Gaue to the eie a pleasant taste, before
Vnto the mouth they came, and euermore
The coole wine fild into the goblet skips,
And laughes for ioy to come vnto such lips:
As Faunus drunke, still would he steale a looke,
(Thus Faunus swallowed Cupids golden hooke)
Then laide his eies wide ope his loue to view,
(Thus he receiu'd the darts which Cupid threw)
Then closde his eie-lids from that glorious light,
(Thus he preseru'd the riches of his sight)
And thus faire words and power attractiue beuty,
Bring men to women in subiectiue duety.
But supper ends, and all the Nymphes expected
Some amorous talke of Faunus: he neglected
Vntill a Nymph (this order yet we vse)
Sayd, let vs husbands in the ashes chuse,
In louers rites, Faunus though rude and raw,
It was no dallying, yet with Nimphs he saw,
Then smiling said: Faire Nymphs, the shepheards lasses,
Thus chuse them husbands, turning crabs in ashes;
If in these woods good husbands be so scant,
Will you sweete Nymphes with me supplie some want.
But some said nothing, these gaue ful consent,
And some said twice No, which affirmes content,
And some said once No, these would grant and giue,
In womens mouths, No is no negatiue:
Whereat he blusht, and fearing to offend,
The fondling thus abruptly made an end.
Sorie (God knowes) the Nymphes were hee had done,
Then Deiopeia mongst them all begun
To speake, whose words to Beril straight distilld,
As from her lippes the orient pearle trilld,
Looking at Faunus smilingly then said:
A cumbersome companion to a maid
Is modesty, our elders all contemn'd it,
For cowardize most valiant men condemn'd it,
Blushing and sighing Theseus neuer stroue,
To woe and winne Antiope his loue.
Nor would hee haue his time so spent and lauisht,
But laid her downe, and some say shee was rauisht,
And so she was, but rauisht with content,
And got with childe, belike both did consent:
Stout Hercules yong loles father slew,
And then by force his force faire Iole knew.
Yet this vnfathered Ladie would beginne,
Most sportfully put on the Lions skinne,
And tooke his clubbe betwixt her hands and viewd it,
Though shee was rauisht, yet she neuer rewd it.
Soft Menelaus Helen could not brooke,
Yet what inforcing Paris gaue, she tooke:
Women are seruants, seruants vnto men,
But praise your seruants, what will follow then?
A readie horse straight yeeldes when he hath found,
One that will haue him yeeld, else falles to bound:
And thus she parl'de, thus she plainely woode,
Yet childish Faunus hardly vnderstood.
Vntill to bedward all the Nimphes them drest
To take their rest, yet tooke no ease in rest:
The night beginnes be angrie, when she sees
She can distill no sleepe in louers eies,
Tossing her selfe among the cloudes now hath
Sent the red morne as Herald of her wrath,
Whose louer Phœbus rising from his bed,
With his dewie mantle hath the world ouer-spread,
Shaking his tresses ouer Neptunes ebbe:
And giuing tincture to the Spiders webbe:
These faire Nimphes rose, seeing the light did call them,
And fairest Faunus equipaged all them.
A fairer beuie of faire virgines neuer,
The worlds faire eie, the Sunne could yet disseuer:
Their prettie pastimes; and their plaies begunne,
At Barlibreake yong Faunus needes must runne,
In couples, three, the mid place, called Hell,
But since that time the play is knowne too well:
With Deiopeia it was Faunus lot,
First to be Hell: they ran, and Syrinx got:
Syrinx and Spio so pursude the chase,
That Melliflora had the middle place.
Her partner Atte at Deiopeia ran,
But first for Faunus she her course beganne:
He ran, but ranne with eie cast o're his shoulder,
Not caring how, so that hee might behold her:
She tooke him straight, about his necke she clang,
And on the grassie carpet Faunus flang.
Willing he was, yet wrastled, stroue, and fought,
And fell to feele, and said hee was not cought
By law of Barlibreake, because hee fell,
It was his heau'n, though thus to be in Hell:
(For many one for Hell, not Heauen would pray,
If such shee diuels were in Hell to play.)
Longer hee stroue, that longer hee might stay,
But Deiopeia bade her come away:
(For shee poore soule was liuer-sicke of loue,
And fear'd such strife another strife would moue.)
And yeeld to Faunus, then she parts him froe,
(Though she from him, nor he from hir could goe)
Let vs (she feard againe they would contend)
Of Barlibreake for this time make an end,
Some other play, some other sport begin,
That standers by, and lookers on be in:
It ended, thus the other play began,
Some fiftie maides, (too many for one man)
Tooke hand in hand, which made a spherie round,
Or globe the perfectst figure to be found,
Then one (whose lot is first among them all)
Must goe about and let a napkin fall:
And whom soe re it lieth next behind,
So soone as euer she the cloth doth find,
Must with swift-running foote the other chace,
Vntill she come vnto her ranke and place:
If catcht before, the fliers forfeit is,
To gratifie the follower with a kisse.
The sport begins and Arethusa first,
Would haue drop-napkin'd Faunus if she durst,
But she tooke Doris; Doris at next bout,
Kist Melliflora, she fetcht Faunus out:
She fled (yet tooke) he follow'd (not forsaken)
She ran (yet caught) he follow'd (and was taken)
Vpon the backe part, fixed she he her eies
So firmely, that before she nothing sees.
Put downe she falls (the Nymphes began to wonder)
Faunus aboue (but women will lie vnder:)
Gaue her the kisse, she (willingly though tooke it,)
Gaue it againe, the nouice then forsooke it:
White Nisæe next for Deiopeia prest,
And she at Faunus, he could neuer rest,
But either catcht, or else was to be cought,
Vntill the freshman faint and breathlesse brought
With tracing was, (the Nymphes much swifter were)
(For loue is heauenly light, compact of aire)
So that the slow'st among them neuer misses,
But casts him downe, and smothers him with kisses.
These gamesome Nimphs, welnere seu'n daies had spent
In such like plaies, and sportfull merriment,
Faunus thought oft Loues fire for to display,
Desire was bolde, but Shamefastnesse said nay.
If he began to come but somewhat neare her,
His body quak't as though his heart did feare her,
All that he said was, Nimph when you are at leasure,
Faine would I speak, he might haue spoke his pleasure,
She found this means, only that he might wooe her,
To loose her Necklace let her Caule forgo her,
Within the woods, that well she could not weare,
Vntill she found them, her loose dangling haire,
And as she sought them, softly thus would say,
I prethee Faunus helpe me, come away,
If thou shouldst goe into these woods alone,
Thy Melliflore would follow thee away:
Wilt thou not come? beleeue me I must chide,
Yet he in loue for all this would abide,
When for his loue, Loue fram'de the time most fit,
(Boyes loue is foolish, Loue to youth brings wit.)
Then to the hedges walke they on a row,
To plucke the sweetes (how sharply sweetes wil grow:)
From sharpest stinging hawthorne as they go,
Fortune to turne their mirth to sodaine woe:
From out the woods did send a fierce wild boare,
Which seene (such beasts they neuer saw before)
A care, or feare, or both, did make them trudge,
Some to the woods, and some towards the lodge:
Some vnder hedges, some to holes would runne,
This way, and that, the best, the beast to shunne:
But Melliflore (whose beautie by that passe,
Like a rubd rubie much augmented was:
Like muske, or ciuit kept in bosome hot,
Her breath most sweete by running sweetnes got,)
Kept on her course, yet neuer lookt behind,
Whom Faunus follow'd, whilst a wanton wind,
Like to some pleasant ciuit smelling breath,
Would gently play him with her vaile beneath,
And come, and go, heaue vp, throw downe, to show
Twise-wounded Faunus, what he did not know:
Something he staid his swift pursute with leasure,
Fearing to be depriued of such pleasure,
But what he saw, tis needlesse for to say,
Heere shall your thoughts, and not my pen bewray:
But as he gan his swifter running slacke,
The anger-froathing boare was at his backe,
Which made him turne, and at the boare to thrust,
Into whose heart his hand he guided iust:
He was but armed with a little knife,
Some destiny belike preseru'd his life:
Yet by this fight he Melliflora lost,
So Faunus thought him worse then euer crost.
In th' unknowne woods, then vp and downe he rangeth,
This way for that, that for another changeth:
Losing himselfe, within a groue he found
Loue-sicke Adonis lying on the ground.
For hating Loue, and saying Uenus nay,
Yet meeting Melliflora in his way:
Loue made (Loue weepe to see thy tyrannie,)
Adonis frustrate his vow'd chastitie:
Whilst narrowly vpon her lookes he spide,
Strooke with loues arrow, he fell downe and dide.
For by the Bore (as all our Poets faine,)
He was not kilde, Faunus the Bore had slaine.
But tracing further, who but Venus met him,
Thinking he had beene Adon, thus she gret him:
Welcome Adonis, in thy louelie breast
Now do I see remorse and pitie rest,
Which to returne my deare Adonis moued,
Uenus perswades her selfe she is beloued:
Hoping to haue some water from the rocke,
Which shee had pierst, she stript her to the smocke:
Wrought all in flames of Chrisolite and gold,
And bout his necke her armes she did enfold:
So (at the least) shee meaning to haue kist him
He turn'de aside: then sorie cause shee mist him,
To Faunus said, faire Saint, shun not such kindnesse,
Can these bright eies be blemisht with such blindnesse?
If thou wert blind, and Venus could not see,
Yet in the darke best sighted louers be:
Or giue, or take, or both, relent, be kind,
Locke not Loue in the paradize of thy mind:
Is Venus louely? then Adonis loue her.
Is she the Queene of loue? then what should moue her
To sue and not command? Is shee loues mother?
Shall she be loath'd, which brings loue to all other?
With that she doft all to the Iuorie skinne,
Thinking her naked glorie would him winne.
The shamefac't Faunus thereat something smiled,
Uenus lookt on him, knew shee was beguiled:
Yet would haue lou'd him for Adonis sake,
(Thus women will one for another take.)
Faunus resisted, Venus would no more
Sollicite him, but mounted as before
In her light Chariot drawne with milke-white Doues,
Away she flies: Faunus lest in the groues
No sooner had the wood him passage lent,
But home to see his father Faunus went.
Picus much wondred where his sonne had beene,
Whom of seuen daies and more he had not seene:
But sleeplesse nights, his being soone reuealed,
With sighes and teares (Loue cannot be concealed.)
His father by his countenance espide him
To be in loue, and mildely thus gan chide him:
Fond Boy, quoth hee, and foolish cradle witted,
To let base loue with thy yong yeares be fitted:
This vpstart loue, bewitcher of the wit,
The scorne of vertue, vices parasite:
The slaue to weakenesse, friendships false bewrayer,
Reasons rebell, Fortitudes betraier:
The Church-mens scoffe, court, camp, and countrie's guiler,
Arts infection, chaste thoughts and youth's defiler.
And what are women? painted weathercocks,
Natures ouersight, wayward glittring blocks:
True, true-bred cowards, proude if they by coide,
A seruile sex, of wit and reason voide:
Shall women moue thee, whom so many loathes,
In gaudie plumes trickte, and new-fangled cloathes?
Thus in our find-fault age, many a man
Will fondly raile with foule-mouth'd Mantuan.
Some sharpe witted, only in speaking euill,
Would proue a woman worse then any diuell
With prating Picus: though that women be,
Fram'd with the same parts of the minde as we.
Nay, Nature triumpht in their beauteous birth,
And women made the glorie of the earth:
The life of Beautie, in whose supple breasts,
As in her fairest lodging vertue rests.
Whose towring thoughts attended with remorce,
Doe make their fairenesse be of greater force.
But of this subiect euerie day who reades not,
Which is so praised, as it praises needs not?
And my conceite not able for to reach them,
Might bring forth words for praise, which might impeach them:
And so with loue tis easie to find fault,
Yet not so easie when it giues assault:
Then to resist his force, whose excellence
Is to transforme the verie soule and essence
Of the louer, into the thing beloued:
This heauenly loue (no doubt) yong Faunus moued:
But (all this while being dumbe) Faunus replide
Vnto his father, and withall denide
He lou'd a woman: then his father knew
From whence his griefe and melancholy grew,
And that he was by some wood-Nymph accosted,
Because the pleasure of the woods he boasted,
And Latian mountes. Then Picus thus againe
Sharply rebukte his sonne, but all in vaine,
Thou art no souldier for Dianaes garison,
Nor twixt her Nymphes and Faunus is comparison:
Nymphes are like Poets, full of wit, but poore,
Vnto thy kingdome, adde a kingdome more
By marriage: let Pycus counsel thee,
Looke not (my boy) at wit, and Poetrie.
Faunus no reckning of such counsell makes,
(Light is that loue which any counsell takes)
Then like Hermocrates the Phisitian,
Seeing his patient with an incision
Sore vext, in steede of ministring to the sore,
Began to chide, bade him be sicke no more.
Or like a friend, that visiting his friend
Loaden with fetters in darke prison pend,
With vnkind words, and bitter termes doth moue him,
To leaue those fetters, or he would not loue him:
This other way from loue would Pycus reaue him,
And bade him leaue to loue, or loue to leaue him:
Or if such loue made Loue not to regard him,
His loue would loue, with hatred to reward him.
Remember loue, and Pycus would the rather,
Forget his sonne, he should forgoe his father.
Loue all this while on Faunus ey-balls stood,
Whose Enuie, palenesse, Anger, caused blood
In Faunus cheekes, to heare such blasphemie
Pronounc'd by Pycus gainst his deitie.
With that he leapes from Faunus face and flies
Vnto the seld-preuented Destinies.
He found them busie at a Parliament,
Vnder their feete relentlesse Adamant,
Aboue their heads the marble was for teele,
The ribs of yron, and the raftne steele,
The walls of flint, and brazen was the gate,
And euery one vpon a wooll-packe sate.
Whose sterne austere lookes neuer mou'de to ruth,
By gold, nor fauour, beauty, age nor youth:
Yet when loue came (what hearts though made of stone,
In which Loue cannot make impression?)
Welcome he was, Loue then his speech began,
To shew th' vnmanlike crueltie of man,
How Nature first ordaining one for one,
Made woman chiefe for procreation:
But men like drudges, not content to vse them,
In blows (sometimes) and speeches will abuse them,
Loue's will was this, that maides should haue their will,
Not ouermuch, but to restraine from ill.
Ill kept-in-thoughts, with vertuous companie,
Restraining not from well-rulde libertie.
For maides were made to make such harmlesse plaies,
Such honest sports, as daunce vpon the laies:
The hey-de-guise, and run the wild-goose chace,
And trie the keeles the Farlibreake, and base,
But with a barly when the pastimes end,
And maides must needes for milking homewards wend:
As some depart, some are constraind to stay,
For when they end, then Loue begins to play,
His play is paine, but yet a paine with ease,
His keeles are coales, whose fire doth grieue and please,
From play (for pray) Loue takes two louing freeres,
Traind vp alike, perhaps of equall yeeres,
Yet such is loue of parents such begot,
That wealth, nor worth, true loue considers not.
Sometime a King dotes on a countrie swaine,
Sometime a Lady loues a lad againe:
Sometime the meaner will the greatst reiect,
No not a person Loue will once respect.
And hauing pearc'd the soule's seuen-doubled shield,
Loue makes the one vnto the other yeeld.
They yeeld (kind soules) but parents will not grant,
With tedious brawlings still they finde a want,
One is too rich, the other is too poore,
(So then twixt Faunus and faire Melliflore,
Loue told the Loue,) and fearing fathers ire,
Loue is defeated of his chiefe desire.
This kind vnkindnesse children yet must take,
Vntill their parents price of them do make,
As in a market: then what man wil craue them,
And giue the most, he shalbe sure to haue them.
Thus from Loues mouth the honnie as he spoke
Distild, as from the brode-leau'd builder oake,
And opall pearle from his lippes did fall,
The Destinies began to gather all.
Such pretious iewells, if they fell but neare them,
And prowd of such loue-tokens yet do weare them,
His sugred tale thus sweetned by his mouth,
The Destinies did somewhat pittie youth:
With one consent and voice they all agreed,
These statutes should for euer be decreed:
That man for his vnmanlike treacherie
Should be tormented with vile iealousie,
That maids from honest libertie restrained,
Should alway thinke from what they thus refrained:
That twas some treasure from the which th' are tide,
Some Indian iewell which men vse to hide,
Some strange conserue, sweete, deare, and pretious,
And women are by nature licorous.
These thoughtes awaked, women growe manwood,
Nor can these thoughts from actions be withstood.
What bird is pleasde, though in a siluer cage?
A dogge tide vp in golden chaines will rage.
That market marriages euermore should be
Content the best, the worst to disagree,
That shrewdnesse should possesse the womans heart,
In stubbornnesse the husband act his part:
Thus drawing opposite in one yoke, aliue
Long might they liue, but they should neuer thriue:
And since that time, all marriages enforced,
Neuer agree vntill they be deuorced.
This sentence giuen, Loue then backe returned,
To louely Faunus, who in Loues fire burned,
But ere he came, Faunus had turnd to hate,
His fathers speeches, and grew passionate,
Who in the night (the best meanes for desire)
Got vp, and darklings, only his attire,
And naked beautie with a tresse of Amber,
Gaue a resplendance to the purle-hung Chamber:
Sought for a suite, yet could not well deuise,
What garment best might please his faire Nimphs eies:
If costly, then for woddy Nimphs too curious,
If gay or gawdie, that was but penurious:
This was too olde, the other was not new,
This the Tailer (Tailers will not be true)
Had cut too short, that hee might haue a sharing,
A garment then hee tooke more rich then glaring,
Of gold beat Samite to his heeles which rought,
With knoppes and broches, birdes, and beasts, ywrought.
In tuffes of Cypresse hung the Topaze stone,
Which through the Cypresse (yet obscurely) shone:
As when wee see a thinne blacke cloudie clustre,
Through which the stars do yeeld a darksome lustre:
A gorgeous choller of deare cheuasall,
Set with a white embrodered Pyronall,
And Margarites, with workmans rare deuise,
It seemed like vnto a shining Ice,
That night (adorned in this princely sort)
Faunus departed from his fathers Court,
And went, vntill for wearines he was
Constrainde to lie downe on the yeelding grasse,
And recommended his faire bodies breath,
To Morpheus the elder borne of death.
There Faunus lie, and cease my pen to tell,
What paine those Nimphes abode for thy farewell:
How sops of sorrow drencht in cups of care,
In steede of Nectar and Ambrosia were:
Greefe great in all, yet great'st in Melliflore,
Who thought her Faunus murdred by the Bore:
She cut the trees, and caru'de the tender graffes,
With dolefull Sestines, mourning Epitaphes.
And stopt with sighs, and drownd in kisse-cheeke teares,
Her halfe-spoke words. A garment now she weares
Right Rauen-blacke, like sorrowes liuerie,
Cut all in rags, yet ioynde so cunningly,
As by her clothes poore raggednesse was braued,
And pouertie no greater riches craued.
The Sun this morne before hee did appeare,
Got two houres iourney in his Hemisphere.
And Melliflora at the Sunnes first peeping,
With loues sharpe-sighted eie the thickets creeping.
Vnder the broad head of a Pine-tree spies
Faunus asleepe, whose face to heaun-ward lies.
She shrunke aside, aside againe she started,
Thinking he had beene Adon, she departed:
But comes againe, (for loue lept from his eies
And puld her backe) twas Faunus then she sees:
She knew and feared, feare she knew before,
Fearing he had beene murdered by the Bore,
She layd her eie-liddes to his eies and wept,
Then she perceiude her dearest Faunus slept.
With that she ioynd her corrall lips to his,
Sucking his breath, and stealing many a kisse:
Wishing the life of a Camelion,
That she might onely liue his breath vpon:
Which all vnwilling his faire body left,
And would not from that paradise be reft.
Or heauenly mansion, which he did retaine,
But there in hope to be enclosde againe:
This soft sound sleepe to Melliflora gaue leysure,
To see, to feele, to smell, to taste such pleasure,
As none but onely she could euer know;
And none but Faunus on the earth could show.
Oh for how oft (whilst loue her marrow warmes)
Would she embrace twixt Alablaster armes,
And hugge, and cull the snow white fronted Boy,
Call him her loue, her life, her soule, her ioy:
Then pry more nearely on his necke, with oft
Quicke mouing lookes, and with her fingers soft
Dimple his breast, and hanging ore his shoulder,
Hold Faunus downe (thrise blest with such an holder.)
And then againe, though yet he sleeping is,
Thus she beganne to woe him for a kisse.
(From him al Muses, so my Muse beginnes)
Deposde his Syre Saturnus from the throne,
And so vsurpt the Diadem alone:
Some higher power for aged Saturne stroue,
Gaue him a gift, which angred lust-stung Ioue:
A louely boy, whose beautie at his birth,
Made poore the heau'ns to enrich the earth.
(When Ioue no beautie in the heauens found,
Was he not angry? yea, and to the ground
Sent Mercurie, to wooe a shepheards swaine,
Whilst he himselfe came in a showre of raine:
Whose drizling drops fell into Danaes lappe,
Which to receiue, (maides wil receiue such happe)
She held hir skirt, Ioue such abundance powred,
Twentie to one but Danae was deflowred.)
His name was Pycus, yet surnam'd the Faire,
Whom Circe chaunted in her scorne-gold haire,
Whom Ladies lou'd, and loued of so many,
Till Canens came, (who when she gan to sing,
The ayrie Bird would hoouer with her wing,
To heare her notes, for Canens she was call'd,
Of singing sweete) and Pycus heart enthrall'd:
Not married long, but Canens did enioy
Of fairest father, farre more faire a boy,
(That heau'n, & earth, in bringing forth these two,
Made a great bragge that so much they could do:)
Faunus a boy whose amber-stragling haires,
So strangely trammeld all about his eares,
The crispe disheuel'd playing with the winde,
Among the thickest, neuer way could finde,
But sweetest flowers would leape from Floraes lap,
And so themselues within his tresses wrap.
That glad he was those lockes (those lockes alone,
Those lockes that lockt in bondage many one:)
With carelesse art, or artlesse care infolde,
And draw them in a coronet of golde.
If bashfulnesse enveloped his face,
A prettie palenesse damask't such sweet grace,
Like Daisie with the Gilliflower distill'd,
Or Roses on a bed of Lillies spill'd:
Or rather when the wood-Nimphs gazing stood,
Loue like a tyrant therein threatned blood:
His eies were such, my Muse yet hardly can
Emblazon forth the beutie of a man:
My dullard muse to sing it may suffize,
Of his rich coate he wore in wondrous guize:
The ground whereof was veluet, white as snow,
With buttons made of Diamonds vpon,
Such as our knights of th' order first put on:
Vpon the left side it no fastning had,
But on the right side with a pearle staide,
Vpon th' one shoulder where the two ends met,
Were both together, with a iewell set,
On top whereof in liuely forme did stand,
Great Hercules with distaffe in his hand:
To euery seame were fastned ribonings,
With stories wrought of Emperours and Kings:
And at each ribbon hung a pretious stone,
(Loues chiefe disport consists in these alone)
Which were faire Ladies costly Amatists,
Tide to the tender small leau'de ozear twists,
That so they might his ribbons enterlace,
When he pursude the nimble Hart in chace:
And she grew prowd, and held the rest in scorne,
That knew her fauour by yong Faunus worne.
Poudred vpon so strange, that many thought
With purple coloured silke it had beene wrought:
But (ah alas) it was the crimson staine,
Of goddesses, which Faunus lookes had slaine:
About his necke he wore a falling band,
Which tooke it pride from his faire mothers hand:
His ivory feete, appearing vnto sight,
In murrey veluet, buskins rich were dight,
The middle slits with tyrian Bisse were laced,
Whose prettie knots his man-like legge embraced.
In many places bare as vse hath bin,
The wanton boy attired in this sort,
Vnto the Latian mountaines did resort;
Whose prowde height garnisht with such stately trees,
Seemde to contemne the vally at his knees,
The humble vally in as good a state:
(But loftie Gallants lower minds do hate)
Was still replenisht with a pleasant riuer,
(Prowd of the gift, and yet more prowd the giuer,)
Whose wanton streames the bank so oft do kisse,
That in her lap (at length) he falling is:
Her bubbling water with slow gliding pace,
Shews her great griefe to leaue that pleasant place:
And with a murmure when she goes away.
Greatly laments she can no longer stay,
Cause th' vpper streams by violence would come,
To take possession of that ioyfull roome,
With swift pursute, and as they gin to chace it,
The bankes like armes doe louingly imbrace it:
Whose purling noise vpon the pibble stones,
For such departure are the dolefull grones:
Her teares exhalde such norishment doth giue,
As on the tree-fringd banks made Pleasure liue,
Among these trees a goodly Cypresse grew,
That all the lofty pines did ouer-view,
Who bow'd her faire head (in the sunnie gleames,)
To tresse her greene locks by those glassie streams.
Her top, her shade, vpon the Riuer show'd,
For the kind moisture on her root bestow'd,
Running vpon so delicate a ground,
Whether it made the grauell pretious looke,
Or else the grauell purifide the brooke:
Whose meddowes greene enameled with roses,
(Twas Paradise some Poet yet supposes)
Added a shew so ruddie, that most deemed
The field to blush at his owne beautie seemed.
Neare to this valley Shepheards often met,
And by this valley sheepish squadrons set,
Within this valley past the time away,
With leapes and gamboles, and with other play:
Here the Nymphes playd such summer games as Base,
For it was summer alwaies in this place,
And Barlibreake, the which when Faunus saw,
So many wood-Nymphes standing on a row:
The boy, though yong, (yet who so yong that loues not,
Or who so old that womens beautie moues not?)
Spide Melliflora: Melliflora was
Among the number sitting on the grasse:
Sweete Melliflora I can tell ye true,
The grasse grew prowd that vnder her it grew.
Faire Melliflora, amorous, and yong,
Whose name, nor story, neuer Poet sung:
She wore a garland wrought with Amorets,
With orphrates ouerlaid and violets,
Whose lacinth loue-lockes hanged out so faire,
As drest the garland, garland drest the haire,
And enterlaced with a purle band,
(Like cristall Tagus through his golden sand)
Which hiding nowe, then hidden by the haire,
Faire was her face yet fairer might haue beene,
If that the Sunne so often had not seene
Her louely face, for halfe the day he spent
In kissing her, yet neuer was content:
(For God or man thinkes he the Cushion misses,
That wooes all day, and winnes nought else but kisses)
Vntill the sunne with ouermuch desire
Of loue (for loue is hotter then the fire)
Consumde the wreathe of Diamonds in his throne:
(Ouid's beguilde, it was not Phaeton)
For Melliflora was the cause he burned,
His chariot, and the world to cinders turned.
Strange were her weedes to Faunus, yet not strange,
For in such weedes the wood-Nymphes vse to range,
A petticote tuckte euen with the knees,
Garnisht about with leaues of sundry trees:
And sometimes like a net drawne vp, and wrought,
(Which net the eagle-Ioue might well haue cought)
And all her garments made so light and thin,
(Who could restraine but thinke what was within)
And blacke silke laces whereon siluer bells
Did hang aboue her elbowes, and of shels
Her slippers were, her legges, her armes, her brest,
In many places naked, yet so drest,
As nakednesse another raiment scorned,
For she her cloaths, her cloaths not her adorned.
Faunus a farre off stood stone-still and gazed,
The more he lookt, the more Loue inly blazed,
He would haue quencht it with his teares, but then
It burnt the more, yet who can well refraine
From drinking water, when he feeles the paine
Of burning feuer, though that water drenches,
And turnes to fire, which like Loue neuer quenches:
But youth may loue, and yongmen may admire,
If old age cannot, yet it will desire.
For since that time old men of sixty yeeres.
(Bearing a beard, or rather, beard them beares)
Will heate their blouds with loue and yong wiues chuse,
(At such sweete weddings yongmen nothing loose)
Faunus kneel'd downe and vnto Uenus prayde,
Before his prayers were the one halfe said,
He thought it best vnto the Nimph to write
And shew his loue, but ginning to indite,
He tride the Muses with his often changes,
(Loue neuer loues to rest, but alwaies ranges.)
If once on Melliflora he did thinke,
He wet his paper both with teares and inke:
Fearing to end before he had begunne,
Mistrusting each word which his wit had done:
One was too darke, another was too plaine,
This word too loftie, and the other vaine.
That set not downe the sorrow of his hart,
This shew'd his passion, but it shew'd no Art:
He tore his papers, cast away his pen,
Sore was he grieude, and yet not angrie (men
In true loue are not angrie) for he knew,
The more hee studied, still the worse it grew:
Then he resolude to take the rose-strowne way,
Accosted all with Uenus and the Graces:
With white haire hiding their enticing faces,
Which hand in hand would make a circle round,
With often turning, then themselues confound,
In Pyrrhus daunce like souldiers armed twine them,
And wedge-wise yoked in array combine them.
And when he came, that wood-Nymph was most faine,
That to their play might Faunus entertaine.
And if he spake, the Nymphs drew somewhat neare him,
To taste the sirrop of sweete wordes, and heare him.
And gray-eyd Dorys she would alwayes eye him,
Till she was strucke purblinde she could not see him:
Some wisht him sooner (though he came too soone)
Before the pleasure of the day was done:
Some saide, the night for Louers was the day,
And Loue delighted in the night to play,
For now the day his office gaue to night,
To lend our aduerse hemisphere his light.
The Nymphs requested Melliflora than,
To moue this sute to Faunus, she beganne:
I would we had such eloquence as might
Intreate your Highnesse lodge with vs all night,
We and our arbour euermore would rest
Content, and honourd with so great a ghest:
You shall but lie vpon a bed of roses,
Your sheetes white lillies, pillowes fragrant poses,
Your blankets flowerdeluces shall be drawne
With prety pinkes, your curtaines leasie lawne,
And in my bed, My, vnawares out slipt,
Which Faunus seeing, would haue kist her then,
To hide those blushes (oh how kind are men!)
Fresh she begins, thinking that word to alter,
The more she speakes, the more her tongue doth falter,
And gainst her will that My she spoke againe,
(Loue will not let such words be spoke in vaine.)
This past as vnregarded: Faunus said,
I were inhumane if this were denaid,
Orecome with ioy, they in the mid rancke set him,
He thought their arbour in the midway met him,
Such force of Musicke conquerd length of way,
With torches making artificiall day.
Aboue all trees in th odoriferous meades,
(With greene vine branches, curling their prowd heades,
And honni-suckles) at their lodging doore,
Doth grow the pleasing brode leau'de Sycamore:
Her entrances adornd with pretious stone,
Built in the forme of a pauillion:
Ridings cut out, so that the eie might iudge,
What Angells did inhabite in the lodge,
And like a comet (yet more pretious farre)
Stretching her tale vnto a lesser starre,
He pointed at a pleasant summer hall,
Wherein the Nymphes did vse to banquet all,
The coloured marble beautified the top,
Whose pillars seru'de the house to vnderprop,
And vnderneath whereas a riuer rode,
Was minerall, her streames an handfull broade,
Her shaking Christall was a perfect mirrour,
Whose water washt them rather they did wash it,
For when their snow-white Iuorie hands would plash it,
(Like honie-bubbling Ladon; or Pirene,
Cleare Castalis, or luke-warme Hippocrene)
Vpon her face she makes ten thousand lines,
Ten thousand Saphir coloured bubbles shines,
As not content in large to haue their pinctures,
In each of them sets forth their liuely tinctures:
And comes againe to play, embrace, and threaten,
And laughes, and smiles, and leapes to be so beaten.
Behind this brooke or thicket was a greene,
Whereas fiue hundred grassie rounds had beene
Made one in one, like to these water rings,
Thence to a gallerie Melliflore him brings,
There was Diana: when Acteon saw her,
Bathing her selfe (alas he did not know her)
(A goldsmiths wife once nakt without her pearle,
Hard to be knowne is from a countrie gerle)
A foolish Nimph sate weeping (for loue can
Make goddesses like women loue a man)
The posture of whose limmes so liuely seated,
As Art and Nature Loue and Anger freated:
Within this gallerie whenas Faunus comes,
The grapes with childe, and diuers coloured plums,
Gaue to the eie a pleasant taste, before
Vnto the mouth they came, and euermore
The coole wine fild into the goblet skips,
And laughes for ioy to come vnto such lips:
As Faunus drunke, still would he steale a looke,
Then laide his eies wide ope his loue to view,
(Thus he receiu'd the darts which Cupid threw)
Then closde his eie-lids from that glorious light,
(Thus he preseru'd the riches of his sight)
And thus faire words and power attractiue beuty,
Bring men to women in subiectiue duety.
But supper ends, and all the Nymphes expected
Some amorous talke of Faunus: he neglected
Vntill a Nymph (this order yet we vse)
Sayd, let vs husbands in the ashes chuse,
In louers rites, Faunus though rude and raw,
It was no dallying, yet with Nimphs he saw,
Then smiling said: Faire Nymphs, the shepheards lasses,
Thus chuse them husbands, turning crabs in ashes;
If in these woods good husbands be so scant,
Will you sweete Nymphes with me supplie some want.
But some said nothing, these gaue ful consent,
And some said twice No, which affirmes content,
And some said once No, these would grant and giue,
In womens mouths, No is no negatiue:
Whereat he blusht, and fearing to offend,
The fondling thus abruptly made an end.
Sorie (God knowes) the Nymphes were hee had done,
Then Deiopeia mongst them all begun
To speake, whose words to Beril straight distilld,
As from her lippes the orient pearle trilld,
Looking at Faunus smilingly then said:
A cumbersome companion to a maid
Is modesty, our elders all contemn'd it,
Blushing and sighing Theseus neuer stroue,
To woe and winne Antiope his loue.
Nor would hee haue his time so spent and lauisht,
But laid her downe, and some say shee was rauisht,
And so she was, but rauisht with content,
And got with childe, belike both did consent:
Stout Hercules yong loles father slew,
And then by force his force faire Iole knew.
Yet this vnfathered Ladie would beginne,
Most sportfully put on the Lions skinne,
And tooke his clubbe betwixt her hands and viewd it,
Though shee was rauisht, yet she neuer rewd it.
Soft Menelaus Helen could not brooke,
Yet what inforcing Paris gaue, she tooke:
Women are seruants, seruants vnto men,
But praise your seruants, what will follow then?
A readie horse straight yeeldes when he hath found,
One that will haue him yeeld, else falles to bound:
And thus she parl'de, thus she plainely woode,
Yet childish Faunus hardly vnderstood.
Vntill to bedward all the Nimphes them drest
To take their rest, yet tooke no ease in rest:
The night beginnes be angrie, when she sees
She can distill no sleepe in louers eies,
Tossing her selfe among the cloudes now hath
Sent the red morne as Herald of her wrath,
Whose louer Phœbus rising from his bed,
With his dewie mantle hath the world ouer-spread,
Shaking his tresses ouer Neptunes ebbe:
These faire Nimphes rose, seeing the light did call them,
And fairest Faunus equipaged all them.
A fairer beuie of faire virgines neuer,
The worlds faire eie, the Sunne could yet disseuer:
Their prettie pastimes; and their plaies begunne,
At Barlibreake yong Faunus needes must runne,
In couples, three, the mid place, called Hell,
But since that time the play is knowne too well:
With Deiopeia it was Faunus lot,
First to be Hell: they ran, and Syrinx got:
Syrinx and Spio so pursude the chase,
That Melliflora had the middle place.
Her partner Atte at Deiopeia ran,
But first for Faunus she her course beganne:
He ran, but ranne with eie cast o're his shoulder,
Not caring how, so that hee might behold her:
She tooke him straight, about his necke she clang,
And on the grassie carpet Faunus flang.
Willing he was, yet wrastled, stroue, and fought,
And fell to feele, and said hee was not cought
By law of Barlibreake, because hee fell,
It was his heau'n, though thus to be in Hell:
(For many one for Hell, not Heauen would pray,
If such shee diuels were in Hell to play.)
Longer hee stroue, that longer hee might stay,
But Deiopeia bade her come away:
(For shee poore soule was liuer-sicke of loue,
And fear'd such strife another strife would moue.)
(Though she from him, nor he from hir could goe)
Let vs (she feard againe they would contend)
Of Barlibreake for this time make an end,
Some other play, some other sport begin,
That standers by, and lookers on be in:
It ended, thus the other play began,
Some fiftie maides, (too many for one man)
Tooke hand in hand, which made a spherie round,
Or globe the perfectst figure to be found,
Then one (whose lot is first among them all)
Must goe about and let a napkin fall:
And whom soe re it lieth next behind,
So soone as euer she the cloth doth find,
Must with swift-running foote the other chace,
Vntill she come vnto her ranke and place:
If catcht before, the fliers forfeit is,
To gratifie the follower with a kisse.
The sport begins and Arethusa first,
Would haue drop-napkin'd Faunus if she durst,
But she tooke Doris; Doris at next bout,
Kist Melliflora, she fetcht Faunus out:
She fled (yet tooke) he follow'd (not forsaken)
She ran (yet caught) he follow'd (and was taken)
Vpon the backe part, fixed she he her eies
So firmely, that before she nothing sees.
Put downe she falls (the Nymphes began to wonder)
Faunus aboue (but women will lie vnder:)
Gaue her the kisse, she (willingly though tooke it,)
Gaue it againe, the nouice then forsooke it:
And she at Faunus, he could neuer rest,
But either catcht, or else was to be cought,
Vntill the freshman faint and breathlesse brought
With tracing was, (the Nymphes much swifter were)
(For loue is heauenly light, compact of aire)
So that the slow'st among them neuer misses,
But casts him downe, and smothers him with kisses.
These gamesome Nimphs, welnere seu'n daies had spent
In such like plaies, and sportfull merriment,
Faunus thought oft Loues fire for to display,
Desire was bolde, but Shamefastnesse said nay.
If he began to come but somewhat neare her,
His body quak't as though his heart did feare her,
All that he said was, Nimph when you are at leasure,
Faine would I speak, he might haue spoke his pleasure,
She found this means, only that he might wooe her,
To loose her Necklace let her Caule forgo her,
Within the woods, that well she could not weare,
Vntill she found them, her loose dangling haire,
And as she sought them, softly thus would say,
I prethee Faunus helpe me, come away,
If thou shouldst goe into these woods alone,
Thy Melliflore would follow thee away:
Wilt thou not come? beleeue me I must chide,
Yet he in loue for all this would abide,
When for his loue, Loue fram'de the time most fit,
(Boyes loue is foolish, Loue to youth brings wit.)
Then to the hedges walke they on a row,
To plucke the sweetes (how sharply sweetes wil grow:)
Fortune to turne their mirth to sodaine woe:
From out the woods did send a fierce wild boare,
Which seene (such beasts they neuer saw before)
A care, or feare, or both, did make them trudge,
Some to the woods, and some towards the lodge:
Some vnder hedges, some to holes would runne,
This way, and that, the best, the beast to shunne:
But Melliflore (whose beautie by that passe,
Like a rubd rubie much augmented was:
Like muske, or ciuit kept in bosome hot,
Her breath most sweete by running sweetnes got,)
Kept on her course, yet neuer lookt behind,
Whom Faunus follow'd, whilst a wanton wind,
Like to some pleasant ciuit smelling breath,
Would gently play him with her vaile beneath,
And come, and go, heaue vp, throw downe, to show
Twise-wounded Faunus, what he did not know:
Something he staid his swift pursute with leasure,
Fearing to be depriued of such pleasure,
But what he saw, tis needlesse for to say,
Heere shall your thoughts, and not my pen bewray:
But as he gan his swifter running slacke,
The anger-froathing boare was at his backe,
Which made him turne, and at the boare to thrust,
Into whose heart his hand he guided iust:
He was but armed with a little knife,
Some destiny belike preseru'd his life:
Yet by this fight he Melliflora lost,
So Faunus thought him worse then euer crost.
This way for that, that for another changeth:
Losing himselfe, within a groue he found
Loue-sicke Adonis lying on the ground.
For hating Loue, and saying Uenus nay,
Yet meeting Melliflora in his way:
Loue made (Loue weepe to see thy tyrannie,)
Adonis frustrate his vow'd chastitie:
Whilst narrowly vpon her lookes he spide,
Strooke with loues arrow, he fell downe and dide.
For by the Bore (as all our Poets faine,)
He was not kilde, Faunus the Bore had slaine.
But tracing further, who but Venus met him,
Thinking he had beene Adon, thus she gret him:
Welcome Adonis, in thy louelie breast
Now do I see remorse and pitie rest,
Which to returne my deare Adonis moued,
Uenus perswades her selfe she is beloued:
Hoping to haue some water from the rocke,
Which shee had pierst, she stript her to the smocke:
Wrought all in flames of Chrisolite and gold,
And bout his necke her armes she did enfold:
So (at the least) shee meaning to haue kist him
He turn'de aside: then sorie cause shee mist him,
To Faunus said, faire Saint, shun not such kindnesse,
Can these bright eies be blemisht with such blindnesse?
If thou wert blind, and Venus could not see,
Yet in the darke best sighted louers be:
Or giue, or take, or both, relent, be kind,
Locke not Loue in the paradize of thy mind:
Is she the Queene of loue? then what should moue her
To sue and not command? Is shee loues mother?
Shall she be loath'd, which brings loue to all other?
With that she doft all to the Iuorie skinne,
Thinking her naked glorie would him winne.
The shamefac't Faunus thereat something smiled,
Uenus lookt on him, knew shee was beguiled:
Yet would haue lou'd him for Adonis sake,
(Thus women will one for another take.)
Faunus resisted, Venus would no more
Sollicite him, but mounted as before
In her light Chariot drawne with milke-white Doues,
Away she flies: Faunus lest in the groues
No sooner had the wood him passage lent,
But home to see his father Faunus went.
Picus much wondred where his sonne had beene,
Whom of seuen daies and more he had not seene:
But sleeplesse nights, his being soone reuealed,
With sighes and teares (Loue cannot be concealed.)
His father by his countenance espide him
To be in loue, and mildely thus gan chide him:
Fond Boy, quoth hee, and foolish cradle witted,
To let base loue with thy yong yeares be fitted:
This vpstart loue, bewitcher of the wit,
The scorne of vertue, vices parasite:
The slaue to weakenesse, friendships false bewrayer,
Reasons rebell, Fortitudes betraier:
The Church-mens scoffe, court, camp, and countrie's guiler,
Arts infection, chaste thoughts and youth's defiler.
Natures ouersight, wayward glittring blocks:
True, true-bred cowards, proude if they by coide,
A seruile sex, of wit and reason voide:
Shall women moue thee, whom so many loathes,
In gaudie plumes trickte, and new-fangled cloathes?
Thus in our find-fault age, many a man
Will fondly raile with foule-mouth'd Mantuan.
Some sharpe witted, only in speaking euill,
Would proue a woman worse then any diuell
With prating Picus: though that women be,
Fram'd with the same parts of the minde as we.
Nay, Nature triumpht in their beauteous birth,
And women made the glorie of the earth:
The life of Beautie, in whose supple breasts,
As in her fairest lodging vertue rests.
Whose towring thoughts attended with remorce,
Doe make their fairenesse be of greater force.
But of this subiect euerie day who reades not,
Which is so praised, as it praises needs not?
And my conceite not able for to reach them,
Might bring forth words for praise, which might impeach them:
And so with loue tis easie to find fault,
Yet not so easie when it giues assault:
Then to resist his force, whose excellence
Is to transforme the verie soule and essence
Of the louer, into the thing beloued:
This heauenly loue (no doubt) yong Faunus moued:
But (all this while being dumbe) Faunus replide
Vnto his father, and withall denide
From whence his griefe and melancholy grew,
And that he was by some wood-Nymph accosted,
Because the pleasure of the woods he boasted,
And Latian mountes. Then Picus thus againe
Sharply rebukte his sonne, but all in vaine,
Thou art no souldier for Dianaes garison,
Nor twixt her Nymphes and Faunus is comparison:
Nymphes are like Poets, full of wit, but poore,
Vnto thy kingdome, adde a kingdome more
By marriage: let Pycus counsel thee,
Looke not (my boy) at wit, and Poetrie.
Faunus no reckning of such counsell makes,
(Light is that loue which any counsell takes)
Then like Hermocrates the Phisitian,
Seeing his patient with an incision
Sore vext, in steede of ministring to the sore,
Began to chide, bade him be sicke no more.
Or like a friend, that visiting his friend
Loaden with fetters in darke prison pend,
With vnkind words, and bitter termes doth moue him,
To leaue those fetters, or he would not loue him:
This other way from loue would Pycus reaue him,
And bade him leaue to loue, or loue to leaue him:
Or if such loue made Loue not to regard him,
His loue would loue, with hatred to reward him.
Remember loue, and Pycus would the rather,
Forget his sonne, he should forgoe his father.
Loue all this while on Faunus ey-balls stood,
Whose Enuie, palenesse, Anger, caused blood
Pronounc'd by Pycus gainst his deitie.
With that he leapes from Faunus face and flies
Vnto the seld-preuented Destinies.
He found them busie at a Parliament,
Vnder their feete relentlesse Adamant,
Aboue their heads the marble was for teele,
The ribs of yron, and the raftne steele,
The walls of flint, and brazen was the gate,
And euery one vpon a wooll-packe sate.
Whose sterne austere lookes neuer mou'de to ruth,
By gold, nor fauour, beauty, age nor youth:
Yet when loue came (what hearts though made of stone,
In which Loue cannot make impression?)
Welcome he was, Loue then his speech began,
To shew th' vnmanlike crueltie of man,
How Nature first ordaining one for one,
Made woman chiefe for procreation:
But men like drudges, not content to vse them,
In blows (sometimes) and speeches will abuse them,
Loue's will was this, that maides should haue their will,
Not ouermuch, but to restraine from ill.
Ill kept-in-thoughts, with vertuous companie,
Restraining not from well-rulde libertie.
For maides were made to make such harmlesse plaies,
Such honest sports, as daunce vpon the laies:
The hey-de-guise, and run the wild-goose chace,
And trie the keeles the Farlibreake, and base,
But with a barly when the pastimes end,
And maides must needes for milking homewards wend:
For when they end, then Loue begins to play,
His play is paine, but yet a paine with ease,
His keeles are coales, whose fire doth grieue and please,
From play (for pray) Loue takes two louing freeres,
Traind vp alike, perhaps of equall yeeres,
Yet such is loue of parents such begot,
That wealth, nor worth, true loue considers not.
Sometime a King dotes on a countrie swaine,
Sometime a Lady loues a lad againe:
Sometime the meaner will the greatst reiect,
No not a person Loue will once respect.
And hauing pearc'd the soule's seuen-doubled shield,
Loue makes the one vnto the other yeeld.
They yeeld (kind soules) but parents will not grant,
With tedious brawlings still they finde a want,
One is too rich, the other is too poore,
(So then twixt Faunus and faire Melliflore,
Loue told the Loue,) and fearing fathers ire,
Loue is defeated of his chiefe desire.
This kind vnkindnesse children yet must take,
Vntill their parents price of them do make,
As in a market: then what man wil craue them,
And giue the most, he shalbe sure to haue them.
Thus from Loues mouth the honnie as he spoke
Distild, as from the brode-leau'd builder oake,
And opall pearle from his lippes did fall,
The Destinies began to gather all.
Such pretious iewells, if they fell but neare them,
And prowd of such loue-tokens yet do weare them,
The Destinies did somewhat pittie youth:
With one consent and voice they all agreed,
These statutes should for euer be decreed:
That man for his vnmanlike treacherie
Should be tormented with vile iealousie,
That maids from honest libertie restrained,
Should alway thinke from what they thus refrained:
That twas some treasure from the which th' are tide,
Some Indian iewell which men vse to hide,
Some strange conserue, sweete, deare, and pretious,
And women are by nature licorous.
These thoughtes awaked, women growe manwood,
Nor can these thoughts from actions be withstood.
What bird is pleasde, though in a siluer cage?
A dogge tide vp in golden chaines will rage.
That market marriages euermore should be
Content the best, the worst to disagree,
That shrewdnesse should possesse the womans heart,
In stubbornnesse the husband act his part:
Thus drawing opposite in one yoke, aliue
Long might they liue, but they should neuer thriue:
And since that time, all marriages enforced,
Neuer agree vntill they be deuorced.
This sentence giuen, Loue then backe returned,
To louely Faunus, who in Loues fire burned,
But ere he came, Faunus had turnd to hate,
His fathers speeches, and grew passionate,
Who in the night (the best meanes for desire)
Got vp, and darklings, only his attire,
Gaue a resplendance to the purle-hung Chamber:
Sought for a suite, yet could not well deuise,
What garment best might please his faire Nimphs eies:
If costly, then for woddy Nimphs too curious,
If gay or gawdie, that was but penurious:
This was too olde, the other was not new,
This the Tailer (Tailers will not be true)
Had cut too short, that hee might haue a sharing,
A garment then hee tooke more rich then glaring,
Of gold beat Samite to his heeles which rought,
With knoppes and broches, birdes, and beasts, ywrought.
In tuffes of Cypresse hung the Topaze stone,
Which through the Cypresse (yet obscurely) shone:
As when wee see a thinne blacke cloudie clustre,
Through which the stars do yeeld a darksome lustre:
A gorgeous choller of deare cheuasall,
Set with a white embrodered Pyronall,
And Margarites, with workmans rare deuise,
It seemed like vnto a shining Ice,
That night (adorned in this princely sort)
Faunus departed from his fathers Court,
And went, vntill for wearines he was
Constrainde to lie downe on the yeelding grasse,
And recommended his faire bodies breath,
To Morpheus the elder borne of death.
There Faunus lie, and cease my pen to tell,
What paine those Nimphes abode for thy farewell:
How sops of sorrow drencht in cups of care,
In steede of Nectar and Ambrosia were:
Who thought her Faunus murdred by the Bore:
She cut the trees, and caru'de the tender graffes,
With dolefull Sestines, mourning Epitaphes.
And stopt with sighs, and drownd in kisse-cheeke teares,
Her halfe-spoke words. A garment now she weares
Right Rauen-blacke, like sorrowes liuerie,
Cut all in rags, yet ioynde so cunningly,
As by her clothes poore raggednesse was braued,
And pouertie no greater riches craued.
The Sun this morne before hee did appeare,
Got two houres iourney in his Hemisphere.
And Melliflora at the Sunnes first peeping,
With loues sharpe-sighted eie the thickets creeping.
Vnder the broad head of a Pine-tree spies
Faunus asleepe, whose face to heaun-ward lies.
She shrunke aside, aside againe she started,
Thinking he had beene Adon, she departed:
But comes againe, (for loue lept from his eies
And puld her backe) twas Faunus then she sees:
She knew and feared, feare she knew before,
Fearing he had beene murdered by the Bore,
She layd her eie-liddes to his eies and wept,
Then she perceiude her dearest Faunus slept.
With that she ioynd her corrall lips to his,
Sucking his breath, and stealing many a kisse:
Wishing the life of a Camelion,
That she might onely liue his breath vpon:
Which all vnwilling his faire body left,
And would not from that paradise be reft.
But there in hope to be enclosde againe:
This soft sound sleepe to Melliflora gaue leysure,
To see, to feele, to smell, to taste such pleasure,
As none but onely she could euer know;
And none but Faunus on the earth could show.
Oh for how oft (whilst loue her marrow warmes)
Would she embrace twixt Alablaster armes,
And hugge, and cull the snow white fronted Boy,
Call him her loue, her life, her soule, her ioy:
Then pry more nearely on his necke, with oft
Quicke mouing lookes, and with her fingers soft
Dimple his breast, and hanging ore his shoulder,
Hold Faunus downe (thrise blest with such an holder.)
And then againe, though yet he sleeping is,
Thus she beganne to woe him for a kisse.
More gratious farre then dawning of the day,
Then Venus starre, or purple coloured Maie:
Let not my begging dearest Faunus grieue thee,
Vpon a note ten thousand kisses giue mee:
And then as many busles ouerplus,
As Cinthia gaue her loue Propertius.
How many Cupids with the Graces trippe
Vpon thy left cheeke, and thine vpper lippe?
How many lifes, deaths, ioyes, hopes, cares, and feares,
Thy quicker mouing eie-balles Faunus beares:
So many collings, with kind clippings giue mee,
As Cupids golden headed arrowes grieue me:
And adde enticements twixt thine amorous kisses,
And pleasant murmures with sweete sounding hisses.
As Doues by turnes be either other nibbing,
And louingly in blither words be snibbing:
And bloudlesse in my bosome when thou lies,
And I turne vp my watrie swimming eies:
Then will I glew thee in my limber arme,
If cold as lead, my breast shall make thee warme;
And Melliflora with her kisses breath,
Shall giue her Faunus life in lookt-for death:
Vntill my spirit in dewie kisses altring,
Within my body faint and fall a faultring.
Then take me Faunus twixt thy naked armes,
And vse thy hugging and thy kissing charmes:
And in thy hearts spoone coll me least I perish,
As twixt thy breasts my frozen bloud ile cherish:
And then, like mine, thy moistie kisses dew,
At poynt of death life will againe renew:
Thus shall we enioy the heauen of our age,
And both together both our liues will swage.
This said, she gathered fragrant smelling posies,
And strewd him o're with violets and roses:
Then with a kisse faine would she him haue raised,
Yet stood stone still, and wishly on him gazed:
And forth his sleepe, as though she feard to feare him,
She fixt her kisses to the roses neare him.
The roses warme by Mellifloraes mouth,
A whispering gale of wind came West by South,
How many roses then before she kist,
(If she had knowne this, none she would haue mist:)
Her former kisses kisses gainde such plentie,
That she receiu'de for one kisse more then twentie.
Such store of kisses on the sodaine found,
Some (slipping from her) fell vpon the ground,
That such an haruest came vpon the earth,
As since, we had of kisses neuer dearth.
But stirring once, his pillow made of grasse.
Faunus awakt, and Venus thought she was:
With that he rose, and like the blushing morne,
Hauing all night the loathsome burden borne
Of aged Tython (old men do no good,
Yet will be fumbling) angrie then and wood:
Among the clowdes herselfe shee headlong throwes,
To meete with Phœbus, what they do, all knowes:
Headlong he ran, such gamesome loue he scorned,
As Uenus lou'd, to haue his loue suborned.
But Melliflora ranne and ouertooke him,
And held him hard, and neuer once forsooke him,
Vntil his name was honour'd by her tongue:
As one that findes great treasure standeth long,
Doubting hee sleepes, so stood the louely boy,
Loue-sicke, amaz'd, and surfeited with ioy.
But when he knew her, O what amorous greeting:
Faunus deuisde to entertaine his sweeting
Like to the elme enclaspt with wanton vine,
Or as the ivie doth the oake combine,
About her necke his ivorie armes did twine,
Faint, feeble, weake, and languishing: in fine,
A moystie kisse seald vp their lippes, as neuer
Iniurious death should their embracements feuer,
But with their kisses make two bodies one,
And so their hearts with kisses liue alone:
Some teares betwixt them (teares of ioy againe)
Did fall like siluer drops in sun-shine raine:
Then Faunus told her how he scapt the bore,
And both related th' accidents before:
His ey-browes touch her roundie speaking eyne,
Kissing her necke and lippes like Corraline:
Then busseth she his cheeke, his chin, and brow,
Red, comely-short, and like to Cupids bow:
Yet in this vnion thus displeasde they be,
Because themselues they kissing cannot see:
Then like two culuers once againe they cleaue,
Hugge, cull, and clippe, and sory for to leaue.
She carries kisses on her doubtfull eies,
In those two Diamonds prettie babes he spies:
Vntill they smile, which as the sunne doth chace,
The mist-hung clowdes then shewes his cheerefull face,
From eies, and cheekes, did driue away the teares,
The sighes, the sobs, the cares and doubtfull feares.
Faunus resolu'd now had intention,
To wooe (how loue refines inuention)
And thus he courted: Faunus thus begunne
To wooe a Nymph, who was already wonne.
Then Venus starre, or purple coloured Maie:
Let not my begging dearest Faunus grieue thee,
Vpon a note ten thousand kisses giue mee:
And then as many busles ouerplus,
As Cinthia gaue her loue Propertius.
How many Cupids with the Graces trippe
Vpon thy left cheeke, and thine vpper lippe?
How many lifes, deaths, ioyes, hopes, cares, and feares,
Thy quicker mouing eie-balles Faunus beares:
So many collings, with kind clippings giue mee,
As Cupids golden headed arrowes grieue me:
And adde enticements twixt thine amorous kisses,
And pleasant murmures with sweete sounding hisses.
And louingly in blither words be snibbing:
And bloudlesse in my bosome when thou lies,
And I turne vp my watrie swimming eies:
Then will I glew thee in my limber arme,
If cold as lead, my breast shall make thee warme;
And Melliflora with her kisses breath,
Shall giue her Faunus life in lookt-for death:
Vntill my spirit in dewie kisses altring,
Within my body faint and fall a faultring.
Then take me Faunus twixt thy naked armes,
And vse thy hugging and thy kissing charmes:
And in thy hearts spoone coll me least I perish,
As twixt thy breasts my frozen bloud ile cherish:
And then, like mine, thy moistie kisses dew,
At poynt of death life will againe renew:
Thus shall we enioy the heauen of our age,
And both together both our liues will swage.
This said, she gathered fragrant smelling posies,
And strewd him o're with violets and roses:
Then with a kisse faine would she him haue raised,
Yet stood stone still, and wishly on him gazed:
And forth his sleepe, as though she feard to feare him,
She fixt her kisses to the roses neare him.
The roses warme by Mellifloraes mouth,
A whispering gale of wind came West by South,
How many roses then before she kist,
(If she had knowne this, none she would haue mist:)
Her former kisses kisses gainde such plentie,
That she receiu'de for one kisse more then twentie.
Some (slipping from her) fell vpon the ground,
That such an haruest came vpon the earth,
As since, we had of kisses neuer dearth.
But stirring once, his pillow made of grasse.
Faunus awakt, and Venus thought she was:
With that he rose, and like the blushing morne,
Hauing all night the loathsome burden borne
Of aged Tython (old men do no good,
Yet will be fumbling) angrie then and wood:
Among the clowdes herselfe shee headlong throwes,
To meete with Phœbus, what they do, all knowes:
Headlong he ran, such gamesome loue he scorned,
As Uenus lou'd, to haue his loue suborned.
But Melliflora ranne and ouertooke him,
And held him hard, and neuer once forsooke him,
Vntil his name was honour'd by her tongue:
As one that findes great treasure standeth long,
Doubting hee sleepes, so stood the louely boy,
Loue-sicke, amaz'd, and surfeited with ioy.
But when he knew her, O what amorous greeting:
Faunus deuisde to entertaine his sweeting
Like to the elme enclaspt with wanton vine,
Or as the ivie doth the oake combine,
About her necke his ivorie armes did twine,
Faint, feeble, weake, and languishing: in fine,
A moystie kisse seald vp their lippes, as neuer
Iniurious death should their embracements feuer,
But with their kisses make two bodies one,
And so their hearts with kisses liue alone:
Did fall like siluer drops in sun-shine raine:
Then Faunus told her how he scapt the bore,
And both related th' accidents before:
His ey-browes touch her roundie speaking eyne,
Kissing her necke and lippes like Corraline:
Then busseth she his cheeke, his chin, and brow,
Red, comely-short, and like to Cupids bow:
Yet in this vnion thus displeasde they be,
Because themselues they kissing cannot see:
Then like two culuers once againe they cleaue,
Hugge, cull, and clippe, and sory for to leaue.
She carries kisses on her doubtfull eies,
In those two Diamonds prettie babes he spies:
Vntill they smile, which as the sunne doth chace,
The mist-hung clowdes then shewes his cheerefull face,
From eies, and cheekes, did driue away the teares,
The sighes, the sobs, the cares and doubtfull feares.
Faunus resolu'd now had intention,
To wooe (how loue refines inuention)
And thus he courted: Faunus thus begunne
To wooe a Nymph, who was already wonne.
Sweete namelesse Saint, (no name can set thee forth,
All titles are but staines to such thy worth:)
Whose ornaments and beautie pure diuine,
Do make the cittie at these woods repine,
If that great highnesse can discend so low,
Vouchsafe those eies to see their ouerthrow,
Disdaine him not whose wit, whose life, whose daies,
Doth studie, liue, and serue, to shew thy praise.
Thinke not my sute of small weight in thine eares;
Nor lesse regarded for my boyish yeares.
With that in his he tooke her moisty hand,
(How white God knowes) and gently did demand:
Shall these white hands (quoth he) (and then he kist them,
And turnde and lookte as though his losses mist them)
Become as withered grasle, drie, leane, and yellow,
And these ripe yeeres be fruitlesse rotten mellow?
Shall such a field lie leyes and not betilled?
Shall such rare sweetes be spent and neuer spilled?
Shall beautie fade, and earth enioy this couer,
And not remaine and flourish in your louer?
The heauens preuent from woman-kind that fall,
Women were borne to beare and borne withall,
That burdens borne that they might beare another,
A mothers childe must be a childes faire mother.
Deare Nymph enioy the spring-tide of your age,
These Aprill flowers in winter will asswage:
Spend that you cannot keepe, it is not best
That death should take his ayme from beauties rest.
Beautie (faire Nymph) is womans golden crowne,
Mans conqueresse, and feminine renowne.
Not ioynde with loue, who deare yet euer solde it?
For Beautie's cheape, except Loues eie beholde it.
You haue the beautie Faunus heart to moue,
You haue the body to reward his loue.
Impart them both vnto the longest liuer,
It is a gift which will entich the giuer:
It seekes, it sues, it offers to be taken:
I sigh, I sue, and would not be forsaken.
If Beautie smile, then Faunus thinkes him blessed.
Then Melliflora with a smile expressed
How hard it is true loue not to discouer,
With that (not coy, nor lauish to her louer)
She said, who taught thee eloquence, and witte,
(Conceit was quickned, and his words made fitte,
She knew by loue) whose force might wel perswade,
And make thee bragge the conquest of a maide,
Small were that boast, and smaller is my beautie,
The smallest praise deseruing, and lesse dutie:
You talke of beauty (if the truth were knowne,)
Because so well acquainted with your owne:
For mine or any other excellence,
Were all imparted to me by your presence,
Which if I were, sole mistris of my mind,
I would repay, and be to you as kind:
But such a vow deuoutly haue I made
To die a virgin: scarce the halfe word said,
His wit and senses by desire set open.
Sweete Saint (quoth he) that vow must needes be broken
It is not lawfull you should make a vow,
The which Religion cannot wel allow:
Our pure Precisians thinke themselues most wise,
Yet in this one point are they not precise:
No doubt, they marrie when they feele the motion,
Vntimely timely subiect to deuotion
Are then your yeeres, to what end were you borne?
Remember but, and you wil be forsworne.
A cloister woman mewd vp in a cell,
To die a maide, and then leade apes in hell.
A Votaresse, a Secluse, and a Nunne,
Nay you must be forsworne when all is done:
For, can you study, fast, and pray among?
No no, (faire nymph) your stomacke is too yong,
Your beautie will dispense with this decree,
You must be periurde of necessitie.
If you but come your Orizons to say,
Dianaes Hunts-men will forget to pray,
Or rather leaue before they do beginne.
Are you not then the Autresse of this sinne?
Or if her priests such fairenesse do espie,
They will be conquerd by your lookes, and die,
Committing murder, what wil follow then?
This odious name, The Murdresse of men,
Which is flat treason gainst all Deitie:
For murder is much worse than periurie.
Saue then my soule, and thousands more from spilling,
You get no praise (my Melliflore) by killing.
Such coy account, such nicenesse of an oath.
But they espide (not fully ended) both
Cleare Deiopeia comming from her sport:
Loue saw his iourney long, and time but short,
In fewer wordes he sealed vp the match,
And that though Argoes hundred eies did watch,
They should depart those Nymphs, and flie away.
Faunus kind entertainement spent the day:
So Melliflora in the tonguelesse night,
With snowie skinned Faunus tooke her flight.
Which when heau'n saw (what doth not heauen see?)
With raine of teares she shewes her dwellers be
Rapt with that sight, nor trees from mourning keepe,
But euery twig with dropping teares do weepe.
Such beauties past them, then the clowdes gaue place,
That heauen might freely smile vpon her face:
The Moone at full was full prowd of that dutie,
That she might beare the torch to such rare beautie,
But to depriue the Moone of this her sight,
The Sun-set loue-sicke, rose within the night:
With his approch, they both lay downe oppressed,
Whose length the earth in beauties liuorie dressed:
Vnder an hill whose lifted bittle brow,
Would ouerlooke his prospect then below,
Whose prowd high Pines, vnto this day are prowder,
They had the hap from summers sunne to shrowd her:
Now mong the Nymphes is Melliflora mist,
And also Faunus, whither they went none wist:
They seeke the hills, the valleys, and plaine ground,
And this they find, they were not to be found.
With eies, with teares, and tongue, their errand showne:
And this they knew, they were not to be knowne,
The more they thought, they knew not what to thinke,
But Deiopeia from the rest gan shrinke,
Thought she was gone with Faunus, was most likely,
(Riualls in loue wil be suspitious quickly.)
She offred incense to Dianaes shrine,
Euen as sweete ( ) I offer vnto thine.
But three daies rites and ceremonies ended,
Vnto Diana she her iourney tended,
With lowe obeisance to her deitie,
She told her Mellifloraes periurie,
That she and Faunus prince of Italie,
Were stolne away: at such impietie,
(Though Melliflore she loued dearely) wroth
And angrie was Diana with them both:
She sware her priests and huntsmen would not tarrie,
If thus her chastest Nymphes beganne to marrie.
No more they would, but then incontinent,
Her purest priests and all a wooing went:
But Deiopeia her selfe banished
Dianaes court, and in loue languished.
All titles are but staines to such thy worth:)
Whose ornaments and beautie pure diuine,
Do make the cittie at these woods repine,
If that great highnesse can discend so low,
Vouchsafe those eies to see their ouerthrow,
Disdaine him not whose wit, whose life, whose daies,
Doth studie, liue, and serue, to shew thy praise.
Nor lesse regarded for my boyish yeares.
With that in his he tooke her moisty hand,
(How white God knowes) and gently did demand:
Shall these white hands (quoth he) (and then he kist them,
And turnde and lookte as though his losses mist them)
Become as withered grasle, drie, leane, and yellow,
And these ripe yeeres be fruitlesse rotten mellow?
Shall such a field lie leyes and not betilled?
Shall such rare sweetes be spent and neuer spilled?
Shall beautie fade, and earth enioy this couer,
And not remaine and flourish in your louer?
The heauens preuent from woman-kind that fall,
Women were borne to beare and borne withall,
That burdens borne that they might beare another,
A mothers childe must be a childes faire mother.
Deare Nymph enioy the spring-tide of your age,
These Aprill flowers in winter will asswage:
Spend that you cannot keepe, it is not best
That death should take his ayme from beauties rest.
Beautie (faire Nymph) is womans golden crowne,
Mans conqueresse, and feminine renowne.
Not ioynde with loue, who deare yet euer solde it?
For Beautie's cheape, except Loues eie beholde it.
You haue the beautie Faunus heart to moue,
You haue the body to reward his loue.
Impart them both vnto the longest liuer,
It is a gift which will entich the giuer:
It seekes, it sues, it offers to be taken:
I sigh, I sue, and would not be forsaken.
Then Melliflora with a smile expressed
How hard it is true loue not to discouer,
With that (not coy, nor lauish to her louer)
She said, who taught thee eloquence, and witte,
(Conceit was quickned, and his words made fitte,
She knew by loue) whose force might wel perswade,
And make thee bragge the conquest of a maide,
Small were that boast, and smaller is my beautie,
The smallest praise deseruing, and lesse dutie:
You talke of beauty (if the truth were knowne,)
Because so well acquainted with your owne:
For mine or any other excellence,
Were all imparted to me by your presence,
Which if I were, sole mistris of my mind,
I would repay, and be to you as kind:
But such a vow deuoutly haue I made
To die a virgin: scarce the halfe word said,
His wit and senses by desire set open.
Sweete Saint (quoth he) that vow must needes be broken
It is not lawfull you should make a vow,
The which Religion cannot wel allow:
Our pure Precisians thinke themselues most wise,
Yet in this one point are they not precise:
No doubt, they marrie when they feele the motion,
Vntimely timely subiect to deuotion
Are then your yeeres, to what end were you borne?
Remember but, and you wil be forsworne.
A cloister woman mewd vp in a cell,
To die a maide, and then leade apes in hell.
Nay you must be forsworne when all is done:
For, can you study, fast, and pray among?
No no, (faire nymph) your stomacke is too yong,
Your beautie will dispense with this decree,
You must be periurde of necessitie.
If you but come your Orizons to say,
Dianaes Hunts-men will forget to pray,
Or rather leaue before they do beginne.
Are you not then the Autresse of this sinne?
Or if her priests such fairenesse do espie,
They will be conquerd by your lookes, and die,
Committing murder, what wil follow then?
This odious name, The Murdresse of men,
Which is flat treason gainst all Deitie:
For murder is much worse than periurie.
Saue then my soule, and thousands more from spilling,
You get no praise (my Melliflore) by killing.
Such coy account, such nicenesse of an oath.
But they espide (not fully ended) both
Cleare Deiopeia comming from her sport:
Loue saw his iourney long, and time but short,
In fewer wordes he sealed vp the match,
And that though Argoes hundred eies did watch,
They should depart those Nymphs, and flie away.
Faunus kind entertainement spent the day:
So Melliflora in the tonguelesse night,
With snowie skinned Faunus tooke her flight.
Which when heau'n saw (what doth not heauen see?)
With raine of teares she shewes her dwellers be
But euery twig with dropping teares do weepe.
Such beauties past them, then the clowdes gaue place,
That heauen might freely smile vpon her face:
The Moone at full was full prowd of that dutie,
That she might beare the torch to such rare beautie,
But to depriue the Moone of this her sight,
The Sun-set loue-sicke, rose within the night:
With his approch, they both lay downe oppressed,
Whose length the earth in beauties liuorie dressed:
Vnder an hill whose lifted bittle brow,
Would ouerlooke his prospect then below,
Whose prowd high Pines, vnto this day are prowder,
They had the hap from summers sunne to shrowd her:
Now mong the Nymphes is Melliflora mist,
And also Faunus, whither they went none wist:
They seeke the hills, the valleys, and plaine ground,
And this they find, they were not to be found.
With eies, with teares, and tongue, their errand showne:
And this they knew, they were not to be knowne,
The more they thought, they knew not what to thinke,
But Deiopeia from the rest gan shrinke,
Thought she was gone with Faunus, was most likely,
(Riualls in loue wil be suspitious quickly.)
She offred incense to Dianaes shrine,
Euen as sweete ( ) I offer vnto thine.
But three daies rites and ceremonies ended,
Vnto Diana she her iourney tended,
With lowe obeisance to her deitie,
She told her Mellifloraes periurie,
Were stolne away: at such impietie,
(Though Melliflore she loued dearely) wroth
And angrie was Diana with them both:
She sware her priests and huntsmen would not tarrie,
If thus her chastest Nymphes beganne to marrie.
No more they would, but then incontinent,
Her purest priests and all a wooing went:
But Deiopeia her selfe banished
Dianaes court, and in loue languished.
Faunus alone, with her alone required,
Alone with him, which she alone desired.
Yet now she feares to be with him alone,
Because no further in loues office gone:
He would haue sealed with the cheefest armes
Of his desire, the waxe that Uenus warmes.
But as she did the contrarie command,
He was afraide, durst not her words withstand.
Did not the boy therein a coward proue?
Nay rather valiant, to withstand such loue.
The marriage was by one of Vestaes Nuns
Solemnized. She Faunus neuer shuns:
He giues, she takes, and nothing is denide,
She his, he her loue's force and valor tride.
And still they striue, but who obtainde the day,
Let him be iudge that er'e fought such a fray:
But faint and breathlesse here the quarrell ends,
Loues cause being righted, both againe are friends.
And Venus, to encrease their amitie,
Considering words against her deitie
Were spoke by Pycus: she incontinent,
In heate of rage her indignation spent:
Transforming him into a bird of th' aire,
And where before, of al hee was most faire,
She makes him blackest, keeping nothing white,
But breast and bellie (for there dwelt delight)
And by her power diuine she so hath framed,
That by his owne name hee is euer named.
And seeming yet al women-kind to hate,
Ouer their houses alway he will prate:
And neare their poultrie build his nest and watch,
How he their chickens and their ducks may catch.
Faunus and Melliflora now are gone,
To take possession of his fathers throne:
And being come, they find his mother dead,
For griefe her dearest sonne from court was fled.
Almost a yeare with mirth the time was spent,
When chaste Diana on fell mischiefe bent
Entred the Court (At that time Melliflore,
Grieud with the burden which her faire wombe bore.)
And put vpon sterne Hecates attire
By magicke, meaning to explaine her ire:
And so (to ease her hate which inly burned)
The faire child to a monster she hath turned:
His head was garded with two little hornes,
A beard he had, whose haires were sharpe as thornes,
Crooked his nose: his necke, his armes, and breast
Were like a man, but like a goate the rest.
No sooner was the faire Nymphs wombe cut ope,
To giue the monster largest roome and scope,
Put out he flies, and to the wood doth runne,
(For there Diana pointed he should come)
And tripping long time ore the leauie launes,
Ioynd issue with the Satyres and the Faunes:
But Faunus changing Melliflores complection,
(Thus man to woman giueth all perfection:
And as our chiefe Philosophers will say,
Woman by man is perfect made each way.
These virgins then of sound and vpright carriage,
Are monsters plaine without the stay of marriage)
At length begot Latinus, he Lauinia:
Æneas her from Turnus tooke away,
Succeeding him, hïs sonne Ascanius,
And after him Æneas Siluius,
Him Brutus kild, and at our English Douer
Landed, and brought some Satyres with him ouer,
And nimble Faëries. As most writers graunt,
London by Brute was named Troynovaunt.
The Faëries ofspring yet a long time went,
Among the woods within the wild of Kent,
Vntill transformed both in shape and essence,
By some great power or heauenly influence,
The Faëries proued full stout hardy knights,
In iusts, in tilts in turnaments, and fights,
As Spencer shewes. But Spencer now is gone,
You Faëry Knights, your greatest losse bemone,
Alone with him, which she alone desired.
Yet now she feares to be with him alone,
Because no further in loues office gone:
He would haue sealed with the cheefest armes
Of his desire, the waxe that Uenus warmes.
But as she did the contrarie command,
He was afraide, durst not her words withstand.
Did not the boy therein a coward proue?
Nay rather valiant, to withstand such loue.
The marriage was by one of Vestaes Nuns
Solemnized. She Faunus neuer shuns:
He giues, she takes, and nothing is denide,
She his, he her loue's force and valor tride.
And still they striue, but who obtainde the day,
Let him be iudge that er'e fought such a fray:
But faint and breathlesse here the quarrell ends,
Loues cause being righted, both againe are friends.
And Venus, to encrease their amitie,
Considering words against her deitie
In heate of rage her indignation spent:
Transforming him into a bird of th' aire,
And where before, of al hee was most faire,
She makes him blackest, keeping nothing white,
But breast and bellie (for there dwelt delight)
And by her power diuine she so hath framed,
That by his owne name hee is euer named.
And seeming yet al women-kind to hate,
Ouer their houses alway he will prate:
And neare their poultrie build his nest and watch,
How he their chickens and their ducks may catch.
Faunus and Melliflora now are gone,
To take possession of his fathers throne:
And being come, they find his mother dead,
For griefe her dearest sonne from court was fled.
Almost a yeare with mirth the time was spent,
When chaste Diana on fell mischiefe bent
Entred the Court (At that time Melliflore,
Grieud with the burden which her faire wombe bore.)
And put vpon sterne Hecates attire
By magicke, meaning to explaine her ire:
And so (to ease her hate which inly burned)
The faire child to a monster she hath turned:
His head was garded with two little hornes,
A beard he had, whose haires were sharpe as thornes,
Crooked his nose: his necke, his armes, and breast
Were like a man, but like a goate the rest.
No sooner was the faire Nymphs wombe cut ope,
To giue the monster largest roome and scope,
(For there Diana pointed he should come)
And tripping long time ore the leauie launes,
Ioynd issue with the Satyres and the Faunes:
But Faunus changing Melliflores complection,
(Thus man to woman giueth all perfection:
And as our chiefe Philosophers will say,
Woman by man is perfect made each way.
These virgins then of sound and vpright carriage,
Are monsters plaine without the stay of marriage)
At length begot Latinus, he Lauinia:
Æneas her from Turnus tooke away,
Succeeding him, hïs sonne Ascanius,
And after him Æneas Siluius,
Him Brutus kild, and at our English Douer
Landed, and brought some Satyres with him ouer,
And nimble Faëries. As most writers graunt,
London by Brute was named Troynovaunt.
The Faëries ofspring yet a long time went,
Among the woods within the wild of Kent,
Vntill transformed both in shape and essence,
By some great power or heauenly influence,
The Faëries proued full stout hardy knights,
In iusts, in tilts in turnaments, and fights,
As Spencer shewes. But Spencer now is gone,
You Faëry Knights, your greatest losse bemone,
This boone Diana then did aske of loue,
(More to be venged on the Queene of Loue,
That Faunus late transformed sonnes Satyres,
(So cald because they satisfide her ires)
Should euermore be vtter enemies,
To louers pastimes, sportfull veneries.
Ioue granted her this lawful iust demand,
As we may see within our Faërie land:
The Satyres ierking sharp fang'd poesie,
Lashing and biting Uenus luxurie,
Gauling the sides of foule impiety,
Scourging the lewdnesse of damnd villany,
Shooting out sharp quills in each angry line,
Through heapt-vp vices like the porcupine.
If this praise-worthy be, then first of all
Place I the Satyre Academicall,
His Satyres worthy are (if any one)
To be ingrau'd in brasse, and marble stone:
Detracting nothing from the excellencie,
Of the Rhamnusian Scourge of Villanie,
But I was borne to hate your censuring vaine,
Your enuions biting in your crabbed straine.
Now let vs shew the Satyres enmitie,
Which Brutus left behind in Italie.
(More to be venged on the Queene of Loue,
That Faunus late transformed sonnes Satyres,
(So cald because they satisfide her ires)
To louers pastimes, sportfull veneries.
Ioue granted her this lawful iust demand,
As we may see within our Faërie land:
The Satyres ierking sharp fang'd poesie,
Lashing and biting Uenus luxurie,
Gauling the sides of foule impiety,
Scourging the lewdnesse of damnd villany,
Shooting out sharp quills in each angry line,
Through heapt-vp vices like the porcupine.
If this praise-worthy be, then first of all
Place I the Satyre Academicall,
His Satyres worthy are (if any one)
To be ingrau'd in brasse, and marble stone:
Detracting nothing from the excellencie,
Of the Rhamnusian Scourge of Villanie,
But I was borne to hate your censuring vaine,
Your enuions biting in your crabbed straine.
Now let vs shew the Satyres enmitie,
Which Brutus left behind in Italie.
The first Satyre of Horace. To his Patron Mecœnas.
Bounteous Mecœnas, s'daining to peruse,
And patronage the weakenesse of my Muse.
And patronage the weakenesse of my Muse.
What is the cause that none content will liue,
In that estate which choise or chance doth giue,
But euermore a nouell life pursues,
And praiseth that another man doth vse?
Th' vnwildie warrior brusde with toile, and spent
With groueling eld, saith, most of all content
O blisfull life, O merchants fortunate:
The Merchant saith misliking this estate,
When Southerne windes with raine bedagled wings
Swell vp the seas, and him neare shipwracke brings:
Warre's better, why? they fight, and presently,
Or quicke death comes, or ioyfull victory:
The Counsellor when as the clyent waites,
And fore the cocks crow knocketh at his gates,
Cries, happie husbandman, his bed which keeps,
And lullabies his thoughts with carelesse sleepes:
The countryman, if for a surety sent,
Vnto the cittie he is euer bent,
To gape, and pore, and staring wide he pries
On euery mocke-Ape toy which he espies,
Iogging his mate vpon the elbow, he
Sweares cittizens the blessed people be.
The residue of these new fangles would,
(They are so many which I haue enrould)
Tyre-prating Fabius, lest I thee delay,
Heare in a word. Suppose some god would say,
Your likings all I wondrous well allow,
I will effect your will: and souldier, thou
Shalt be a Merchant, Counsellor I giue
To thee thy wish, a farmer thou shalt liue:
Your trades are turnd, depart here from my sight,
Why stand you still? they will not though they might
Accept this blisfull and their chiefest boone,
Then what's the cause but Ioue of right may soone,
In wrathfull moode engorge his swelling cheeke
Gainst all this sort, and heare not them which seeke,
And sue to change their present state hereafter?
In that estate which choise or chance doth giue,
But euermore a nouell life pursues,
And praiseth that another man doth vse?
Th' vnwildie warrior brusde with toile, and spent
With groueling eld, saith, most of all content
O blisfull life, O merchants fortunate:
The Merchant saith misliking this estate,
When Southerne windes with raine bedagled wings
Swell vp the seas, and him neare shipwracke brings:
Warre's better, why? they fight, and presently,
Or quicke death comes, or ioyfull victory:
The Counsellor when as the clyent waites,
And fore the cocks crow knocketh at his gates,
Cries, happie husbandman, his bed which keeps,
And lullabies his thoughts with carelesse sleepes:
The countryman, if for a surety sent,
Vnto the cittie he is euer bent,
To gape, and pore, and staring wide he pries
Iogging his mate vpon the elbow, he
Sweares cittizens the blessed people be.
The residue of these new fangles would,
(They are so many which I haue enrould)
Tyre-prating Fabius, lest I thee delay,
Heare in a word. Suppose some god would say,
Your likings all I wondrous well allow,
I will effect your will: and souldier, thou
Shalt be a Merchant, Counsellor I giue
To thee thy wish, a farmer thou shalt liue:
Your trades are turnd, depart here from my sight,
Why stand you still? they will not though they might
Accept this blisfull and their chiefest boone,
Then what's the cause but Ioue of right may soone,
In wrathfull moode engorge his swelling cheeke
Gainst all this sort, and heare not them which seeke,
And sue to change their present state hereafter?
But lest some say, too much I mingle laughter,
Though what forbids but that the iester may
Speake truth in toyes, and make the Reader stay,
As faire spoke Pedants, teaching country schooles,
With butterd bread will lure the little fooles,
To learne their Crosse-row: but Ile make an end
Of trifles now, and serious things vnbend:
The country swaine which shares the yeelding leas,
The Mariner that furrowes vp the seas,
The Tauerner which reakes not much to lie,
And Souldier, say, the cause they trauaile why,
Is this, that when vnnimble three-legg'd age,
There stronger yeares, or moyling toyle doth swage,
That then they might of all sufficient haue,
Least easelesse neede their bodie bring to graue.
Not much vnlike the little Ant that moiles,
(A little beast, but one of greatest toile)
And drawes her dainties thwart the hillie soile
By might of mouth: and placed in her cell,
In all she may, she huswiues it so well:
Layes it in piles, and shroudes it vnder roofe,
As one which were not for to learne the proofe
Of winters wrath, when sleeting Ianiuere,
With sullen shoures saddes the beginning yeare:
Within her caue she keepes her festiuall,
And feeles the fruit of her prouision all
In Summer time. But thee, nor scorching heate,
Nor shuddering cold,
Nor stormie seas, nor winter, fire, nor sword,
Nor ought can keepe from heaping vp thy hord.
Thy glutton mind with moath-consuming pelfe,
Whilst one thou seest be richer then thy selfe:
What vailes it thee to grubbe this waight of molde,
So fearefully this Idoll god thy gold,
In hugger mugger euermore to hide,
Which if thou spend, no farthing will abide,
And if thou snudge, and coffert from the sunne,
What shew makes it, what good is thereby wonne?
Of corne dehuskt admit thou hast in store,
An hundreth thousand Mets on thy barne flore,
What comes thereby? thy bellie holds no more
Then mine, as if to hirelings thou wert sent,
Thy shoulders fraught with bags of bread, thou went,
And they receiuing what thou thither brought,
Thou gaines no more then him which carried nought.
Though what forbids but that the iester may
Speake truth in toyes, and make the Reader stay,
As faire spoke Pedants, teaching country schooles,
With butterd bread will lure the little fooles,
To learne their Crosse-row: but Ile make an end
Of trifles now, and serious things vnbend:
The country swaine which shares the yeelding leas,
The Mariner that furrowes vp the seas,
The Tauerner which reakes not much to lie,
And Souldier, say, the cause they trauaile why,
Is this, that when vnnimble three-legg'd age,
That then they might of all sufficient haue,
Least easelesse neede their bodie bring to graue.
Not much vnlike the little Ant that moiles,
(A little beast, but one of greatest toile)
And drawes her dainties thwart the hillie soile
By might of mouth: and placed in her cell,
In all she may, she huswiues it so well:
Layes it in piles, and shroudes it vnder roofe,
As one which were not for to learne the proofe
Of winters wrath, when sleeting Ianiuere,
With sullen shoures saddes the beginning yeare:
Within her caue she keepes her festiuall,
And feeles the fruit of her prouision all
In Summer time. But thee, nor scorching heate,
Nor shuddering cold,
Nor stormie seas, nor winter, fire, nor sword,
Nor ought can keepe from heaping vp thy hord.
Thy glutton mind with moath-consuming pelfe,
Whilst one thou seest be richer then thy selfe:
What vailes it thee to grubbe this waight of molde,
So fearefully this Idoll god thy gold,
In hugger mugger euermore to hide,
Which if thou spend, no farthing will abide,
And if thou snudge, and coffert from the sunne,
What shew makes it, what good is thereby wonne?
Of corne dehuskt admit thou hast in store,
An hundreth thousand Mets on thy barne flore,
What comes thereby? thy bellie holds no more
Then mine, as if to hirelings thou wert sent,
And they receiuing what thou thither brought,
Thou gaines no more then him which carried nought.
Or answere this: to him which doth propound
Nature his guide, what booteth him of ground,
Whether that he an hundreth acres tilles,
Or else a thousand? But to him which filles,
From a huge heape, thou saist, It feeds the eie,
And in the same we condiscend to thee,
Whilst our repaste contents the mind alwaies,
Shunning all not: wherefore dost thou praise,
Thy corne-stuft gardners, boue our sacks? wee feed
On them as well as you, they serue our neede.
As if thou must thy pot with water fill,
And by thy side a fountaine doth distill:
Yet for affection, and to please thine eie,
Vnto a riuer further off thoult hie:
At which, whilst some haue reacht beyond the brim,
The banks haue burst, and they haue fallen in.
But he that takes to serue his vse, no more,
The troubled water neare the slimie shore,
Needes not to drinke, his flaming thirst to coole,
Nor drowning feare within the muddie poole:
But greatest part of men with poyson'd baite
Of wealth bewitch'd, aboundance in ech state
Is all their blisse, their God, and earthly store,
A man is but his money, and no more.
What punishment shall we deuise or find,
For him that hath this vnder-eating mind?
Lets suffer him in sinne to wallow still,
And wretched be so long as er'e he will.
Such one we reade of dwelt in Athens towne,
In substance rich, but yet a niggard clowne:
Whose couetize the world would euer hisse,
Of infamie he still regardlesse is.
Let people hisse and mocke me as they list,
Whilst with my gold (quoth he) lockt in my chest,
I please my selfe, mine eie still viewing is
My gold, my goods, my God and heauenly blisse.
Dry Tantalus doth oft aspire to taste
The gliding water, but his labour's waste.
Why dost thou laugh? what pleasure dost thou take
To loue this gold, which endlesse griefe doth make?
For thou endur'st his fate, take but his name,
This fable's told of thee, thou art the same.
What though amidst thy heaped bagges thou sleepe,
When fearefull dreames thy mind awaking keepe,
And that (which thy confusion will bring,)
Thou sparest it like to some holy thing:
And Tymon-like thou dost but please thine eie,
With that which should thine honour raise on hie.
As though it were in pictures to delight,
Thou dost not know the vse of money right,
Disburse it so for to supplie thy want:
Let bread be bought, hearbs, wine, or what is scant,
By which abating Nature waxeth faint.
To wake daies, nights to stand in awe and feare
Of theeues, least of thy riches they should heare.
Of fire, of seruants, least they pilfer thee,
Be these thy gaines? Ioue then this boone to me
Grant, that deuoyd of wealth I euer be.
Nature his guide, what booteth him of ground,
Whether that he an hundreth acres tilles,
Or else a thousand? But to him which filles,
From a huge heape, thou saist, It feeds the eie,
And in the same we condiscend to thee,
Whilst our repaste contents the mind alwaies,
Shunning all not: wherefore dost thou praise,
Thy corne-stuft gardners, boue our sacks? wee feed
On them as well as you, they serue our neede.
As if thou must thy pot with water fill,
And by thy side a fountaine doth distill:
Yet for affection, and to please thine eie,
Vnto a riuer further off thoult hie:
At which, whilst some haue reacht beyond the brim,
The banks haue burst, and they haue fallen in.
But he that takes to serue his vse, no more,
The troubled water neare the slimie shore,
Needes not to drinke, his flaming thirst to coole,
Nor drowning feare within the muddie poole:
But greatest part of men with poyson'd baite
Of wealth bewitch'd, aboundance in ech state
Is all their blisse, their God, and earthly store,
A man is but his money, and no more.
What punishment shall we deuise or find,
For him that hath this vnder-eating mind?
Lets suffer him in sinne to wallow still,
Such one we reade of dwelt in Athens towne,
In substance rich, but yet a niggard clowne:
Whose couetize the world would euer hisse,
Of infamie he still regardlesse is.
Let people hisse and mocke me as they list,
Whilst with my gold (quoth he) lockt in my chest,
I please my selfe, mine eie still viewing is
My gold, my goods, my God and heauenly blisse.
Dry Tantalus doth oft aspire to taste
The gliding water, but his labour's waste.
Why dost thou laugh? what pleasure dost thou take
To loue this gold, which endlesse griefe doth make?
For thou endur'st his fate, take but his name,
This fable's told of thee, thou art the same.
What though amidst thy heaped bagges thou sleepe,
When fearefull dreames thy mind awaking keepe,
And that (which thy confusion will bring,)
Thou sparest it like to some holy thing:
And Tymon-like thou dost but please thine eie,
With that which should thine honour raise on hie.
As though it were in pictures to delight,
Thou dost not know the vse of money right,
Disburse it so for to supplie thy want:
Let bread be bought, hearbs, wine, or what is scant,
By which abating Nature waxeth faint.
To wake daies, nights to stand in awe and feare
Of theeues, least of thy riches they should heare.
Of fire, of seruants, least they pilfer thee,
Be these thy gaines? Ioue then this boone to me
But if the cough chance trouble sore thy head,
Or some disease do cause thee keepe thy bed,
Thou hast thy friends still at thy elbow prest,
Which will prouide confections of the best:
Cunning Phisitians for thy helpe procure,
And to thy sonnes and kinsfolke thee restore,
With potions will in perfect health againe.
Or some disease do cause thee keepe thy bed,
Thou hast thy friends still at thy elbow prest,
Which will prouide confections of the best:
Cunning Phisitians for thy helpe procure,
And to thy sonnes and kinsfolke thee restore,
With potions will in perfect health againe.
Thou art deceiu'd, thy wife she workes thy baine,
Thy sonne, thy neighbours maides, acquaintance all
Weepe, but lest death should linger in thy fall:
What meruaile is't when siluer was thy Lord,
None loue thee? thou deseru'st no louing word,
For if thy kinsmen and thy friends thou will
With slight regard thus bind in friendship still,
Thy labour's vaine, perseuerance in loue,
Discordeth much. Thou maist as well aboue,
The sluggish Asse a golden saddle set,
And teach him chew the bit, plaie, and curuet:
Thy sonne, thy neighbours maides, acquaintance all
Weepe, but lest death should linger in thy fall:
What meruaile is't when siluer was thy Lord,
None loue thee? thou deseru'st no louing word,
For if thy kinsmen and thy friends thou will
With slight regard thus bind in friendship still,
Thy labour's vaine, perseuerance in loue,
Discordeth much. Thou maist as well aboue,
The sluggish Asse a golden saddle set,
And teach him chew the bit, plaie, and curuet:
This be the end: when much thou hast in store,
Then feare not want, and trauaile for no more:
Thy wil accomplisht, liue then at thine ease,
Let not Ouidius greedie mind thee please,
It is too long to tell how he would turne
His coomed coyne which shoules nor would adorne,
His corps with cloaths, but like the poorest wight,
No better then his seruant euer dight,
Fearing his riches would in time asswage,
And he sustaine great penury in his age:
But loe his wife (of Greekish dames most bold)
Did cut his throte, so ended he and's gold
What, is it best like Meuius to liue?
Or all my goods like Momentanus giue
To whores and bawdes? why dost thou thus compare
Extremities, all spend, or else all spare?
I would not thee a greedie cormorant haue,
Wilt thou then be a drunkard and a knaue?
There is a difference twixt the Eunuch Taine,
And Hermosus that most luxurious swaine.
A meane there is in all things, bonds be pight
On this side or beyond which nought stands right.
But now at length to come to my request,
How hapneth it that no man liketh best
His owne estate? His neighbours goate doth beare
A bigger bagge, her milke is farre more cleare.
Comparing him not to the greater sort,
Whose state is base, who liues in meane apport:
But shoots at high'st, with him he doth contend
To passe in coine, and so there is no end:
For he that all men meanes to leaue behind,
In running shall some richer euer find:
As when to winne some lawrell crowned fame,
The Charrioter (as in th' olympick game)
Lashing his thundring Coursers makes the ground,
(Whose rising face their fierie hoofes doth wound.)
To shake, and dandle, neuer lookes behind
At those he coates, but swifter then the wind.
Scoures forward still, to ouergo the rest,
And here it comes that he hath liued blest
Not one will say: A man we seldome find,
So cloyd with th' world, as one which hath new dinde
Is with his meate: none in s extreamest dayes.
Will part from life, as from a feast his waies.
But drad Mecœnas, now this shall suffize,
Least thou suppose my volume would arize
Greater then that which bleare-eide Crispine made.
Not one word more at this time shall be sayd.
Then feare not want, and trauaile for no more:
Thy wil accomplisht, liue then at thine ease,
Let not Ouidius greedie mind thee please,
It is too long to tell how he would turne
His coomed coyne which shoules nor would adorne,
His corps with cloaths, but like the poorest wight,
No better then his seruant euer dight,
Fearing his riches would in time asswage,
And he sustaine great penury in his age:
But loe his wife (of Greekish dames most bold)
What, is it best like Meuius to liue?
Or all my goods like Momentanus giue
To whores and bawdes? why dost thou thus compare
Extremities, all spend, or else all spare?
I would not thee a greedie cormorant haue,
Wilt thou then be a drunkard and a knaue?
There is a difference twixt the Eunuch Taine,
And Hermosus that most luxurious swaine.
A meane there is in all things, bonds be pight
On this side or beyond which nought stands right.
But now at length to come to my request,
How hapneth it that no man liketh best
His owne estate? His neighbours goate doth beare
A bigger bagge, her milke is farre more cleare.
Comparing him not to the greater sort,
Whose state is base, who liues in meane apport:
But shoots at high'st, with him he doth contend
To passe in coine, and so there is no end:
For he that all men meanes to leaue behind,
In running shall some richer euer find:
As when to winne some lawrell crowned fame,
The Charrioter (as in th' olympick game)
Lashing his thundring Coursers makes the ground,
(Whose rising face their fierie hoofes doth wound.)
To shake, and dandle, neuer lookes behind
At those he coates, but swifter then the wind.
Scoures forward still, to ouergo the rest,
And here it comes that he hath liued blest
Not one will say: A man we seldome find,
Is with his meate: none in s extreamest dayes.
Will part from life, as from a feast his waies.
But drad Mecœnas, now this shall suffize,
Least thou suppose my volume would arize
Greater then that which bleare-eide Crispine made.
Not one word more at this time shall be sayd.
The first Satyre of Persius.
O slight regard of sots, or brainlesse men!How great their blindfold vanities are, when
Naught they applaud but tingling Poesie,
Lulling the sence with itchfull ribaudry.
What meanes my tragicke clamor, to what end,
My ayrie breath to water do I spend?
What man takes pleasure? who will loose his time
In reading of my testy waiward rime?
To me didst speake, no flat-cap low prizde swaine,
(Much lesse my selfe) to reade my crabbed graine,
Will leaue a pleasing Poets sugred vaine.
Then to respect me, shall I find not one?
Yea, two perhaps thou shalt, or rather none.
This retchlesse care is much to be lamented,
Wherefore? not that my soule is discontented,
Fore me they should Polydemias preferre,
Or blockish Labeo, these but trifles are,
No: for what thing it please tempestuous Rome,
To raise, or throw downe by her bribed doome:
Thereto assent, correct, nor make deniall,
Or in the ballance poise that wicked triall.
Know thou thy selfe, but not by others words,
Oh if my tongue might runne at liberty,
And now it may, I'me come to grauity:
With sad rough-wrinkled age, and what I say,
Is casting toyes and childishnesse away:
And also now sterne vnkles I resemble,
Whose sharp correction make their neuews tremble:
Now then forgiue me. But I will not tho,
How can I but a Satyres forehead show?
And be a scorner in a sawcy splen,
We write shut vp, within our studies, when
He for to write in ordred sillables chose,
Another at his libertie in prose,
Some great great worke the Romanes haue assign'd,
Which to procure (I feare me) of the mind
The ayrie lunges wil troubled be for wind,
This doubtles to the people he shall reede,
Com'd, in his new gowne, and his richest weed:
With his Sardonix birth-dayes iewell graced,
In some high seate, or chaire, emperiall placed,
When with some limber unguent he hath noynted,
His mouing throate, at all assaies appointed,
Faint, with a swimming, turnd vp Venus eie,
He of his speech will make deliuerie:
Here maist thou see in most lasciuious guize,
The greatest Romanes play, and wantonize,
When as their lungs his lust-stung words do perse,
And itching entralles, scracht are with his verse.
Old-ore-worne truncke, and dost thou lay the baite,
For tickling eares, for eares which itching waite,
Thou knowst thine owne, and dost excuse their sinne.
O stay, what profit doth thy learning show?
Vnlesse that foolish doctrine thou dost know,
And barren figge tree so deepe rooted in thee,
Thy liuer burst, come forth and honor win thee?
Behold thy manners, and thy withered eld,
O foolish manners now for vertue held,
And is it nothing for to know thine owne,
Lesse what thou knowst, to al the world be knowne?
O but it is a iolly thing to see,
Men with their fingers point thee forth, tis he
Which pend that learnd egregious Poesie:
Deemes thou it nothing openly t'haue bin read,
Of an hundred schoole-boyes yellow curled heads?
Behold the Romanes mid their gluttony,
Inquire the most be-praised Poetrie,
Some noble man t'whome bout his shoulders hings,
A diuers coloured garment screaming sings,
Or through the nose speakes some foule tragedy,
Of Phillis and Hipsiphilus, or what poesie,
Is lamentable in Pandars surquedry,
He melts and breakes it in deliuery:
They rise vp all to him, they giue the palme,
And with these speeches they his words embalme.
Are not the ashes of this Poet blest,
The gentle coffin will not's bones haue prest,
From's Manes, his happy cinders and his toome,
Will not the Violets, and the Roses come?
And dost thou scoffe vs? thy sharp hooked nose
Will there be any willing to refuse
The peoples praise, when as his skilfull Muse
Doth leaue works worth the iuice of Cedars tree,
To after age, and all posteritie?
And verse, not fearing Salters quicke consume,
Nor Pothecaries wrapping in perfume.
Whosoe're thou art moud with my reprehension,
Which at this time gainst me doth make obiection,
I do not alwaies when I write refuse
The peoples praise if so my dullard Muse
(Which happens seldome) bring some legend forth,
Wittie conceited, sweete, and praises worth:
Nor are my heart strings of obdurate horne,
That such esteeme and honour I should scorne.
But the maine poynt, and the extreamest end,
To which thy studie and thy actions tend
I do refuse. Thy well done, wondrous rare,
Good, excellent examine with me here:
This whole great praise, what hath it inwardly?
Here is not Labeoes sottish Poetrie:
His Iliads drunke, with neesing Hellebore,
No Elegies for faire mouth'd Romaines more,
Raw stomackt at their banquets to rehearse,
For to be writ in Cittron beddes no verse.
Thou know'st what dainties are most meete to place
Before thy flatterers, which thee alway grace:
Thou know'st how to reward the needie poore,
With some cast garment, threed-bare, raggd, and tore.
And then thou saist, the truth faine would I know,
Both of my selfe, and of my poesie,
What high regard wee're in. Foole how can't be
That they corrupted with thy bribery,
Should speake the truth? But without flattery
Wouldst haue me speake? Thy Poetry is vaine,
Thee and thy workes the wisest do disdaine:
When such a hogge-trough, such a panch thou hast,
Reaching a foote and halfe aboue thy wast,
And gurmondizing still in gluttonie,
How canst thou write (foole) wittie Poesie?
O Ianus, first made prince of Italie,
Who can expresse thy great felicitie,
Whom neuer Stork-bild ieerer yet did flout,
Nor medlers hand did asses eares point out,
Behind thy backe, nor put forth such a tong,
So farre extended forth, drawne out so long?
How farre some dogge of scorcht Apulia
Hangs out his tongue, vpon the hottest day.
But you O Romane peeres, whom nature gaue,
As to other men, behind no eies to haue,
Looke warily vnto these glauerers,
These writhen-mouth'd frumpers gullish flatterers,
Do thou but aske the vulgars true opinion,
Of thy writ lines, thy scoffer in derision
Will answere thee: Why who can but commend,
Such a sweete flowing Poem rarely pend,
Whose pollisht numbers do so smoothly end,
He knowes the best his verses to extend:
As one that hauing shut one of his cine,
If neede require to write a Comedie,
A sharp fang'd Satyre or a Tragedie.
Some fatall banquet of swart Atreus,
Orestes, Progne, and of Tereus,
Then doth his Muse giue witfull poesie,
Unto our Poet most aboundantly.
Behold we see one to the hearing brings,
Some lofty stile of Emperours or Kings,
Or some great Poeme for to take in hand,
When as the freshman doth not vnderstand
His rudiments, nor hath the salt of wit,
For to describe a groue as doth befit,
Nor praise the fruitfull cóuntrie how the waines,
Carrie the liquor which the grape distraines,
Nor fire, nor heards of swine fed fat with graines:
Nor yet the feasts of Pales celebrate,
The goddesses of shepheards consecrate,
From whence the Emperour Remus did deriue,
His pedegree. How Quintus thou didst riue,
And breake thy plow-share, with the furrow torne,
Whenas thy stonisht wife stood thee beforne,
With a Dictators vesture thee t'adorne.
The sergeant who this sodaine newes did know,
Vpon his shoulders carried home thy plow.
Well done ingenious Poet, to expresse
A lofty stile, and graueld in the lesse,
But some there be who more obscurely write,
Whom th' venemous booke of Labeo doth delight,
Some with Pacunius harsh Antiopa,
Whose mournfull heart in sorrowes extasie,
Is vnderpropt, he saith, with care and misery.
When pur-blind fathers euery day thou sees,
Vnto their children teach such words as these:
Dost thou demand how this vnpolisht speech,
Into the tougues of all men made a breach,
From whence this ruine of the Romane tongue
Did first arise, in which the Romanes long
Haue tooke delight? fore all this they preferre,
And act it on the Amphitheater,
And doth this language nothing thee ashame?
Will not gray haires thy greene affections tame,
And wilt thou euer be so couetous,
To heare this latine mingled barbarous,
Call Pedius Theefe, then what will Pedius say,
He in smooth opposites will his trespasse way:
And for his sugred flowing eloquence,
Hee's greatly praisde and held in reuerence,
O eloquent Apollo robbing witte!
And is it so? lasciuious Romanes, yet
Like fauning dogges this flattering do ye loue?
What? shal a shipwrackt man to pittie moue,
My liberall mind some mony to bestow,
Whenas before me singing he doth goe.
Thy shipwracke on thy shoulders thou dost bring,
Vpon a table painted, and dost sing.
But such a whining speech premeditate,
Cannot make me thy chance commiserate,
Yea but in verse there is a comely grace,
A secret couching of each word in place,
Of Atis borne in Berecinthius,
And not vnlike the Poesie of him.
The Dolphin tooke Nerea for to swimme,
Thus haue I taken a part priuily,
Of Apenines mount diuiding Italie:
But like to these affecting euermore,
To speake by some odde foolish Metaphore.
Arma, Virum, what difference twixt them both,
Uirgills beginning, tis a barmie froth,
A grosse-puft stile, like to some bough puld downe
From the greene corke-tree dried in the sunne:
Then in thy iudgement what worth reading is?
What Poeme is most pleasing then? Why this
Of some wise Romane in his Nioblis.
Now they haue fild their writhen vnpleasing hornes,
With the hoarse sound of hissing Mimallones,
Taking away the painted head by this,
From the prowd heifer of priest Bassaris,
And Mœnas wreathing th' ivie which, alone
Makes Linceus still redouble Euion,
And the new Eccho answeres therevpon.
Could these be writ, in vs (Oh how I'm grieu'd)
If any vertue from our fathers liu'd.
This nice effeminate mouing with our hippes,
This slime is euer swimming in our lippes,
Mœnas and Atis euer in our mouth,
Whose wanton speech corrupts both age and youth,
Nor hath it yet a Poems triall biden,
Nor know what meanes a Poets nailes off bitten,
What neede haue we? or what will it auaile's,
Take heede, be not so malapert and bold,
Least that thy Patrons entrance waxen cold,
Denying thee to come within their gates.
Some churlish Porter thy approachment waites,
To beate thee backe, and euer as thou goes,
This dogged letter R sounds through his nose.
I passe not for it, for my part I praise
Your amorous Poems, and your wanton laies:
O! all is good, all excellent you write,
These, these my words thou saist againe delight:
I do forbid now that there should be one,
Twixt thee and me to make dissention.
Paint here two Saints, say, children pisse without,
This place is holy sanctifide about.
I straight depart. But Lucils libertie
Did lash and scourge the best of Italie.
Blunting his teeth gainst thee Rutilius,
VVhetting them sharpe for wilful Mutius,
Slie subtile Horace taxed euerie sinne,
Vnto Mecœnas, once admitted in,
Twixtiest and earnest witt'ly would forbid,
More secret vices in the heart-strings hid.
And craftily keepe the longing Audience,
With a gratious gesture euer in suspence.
And was it lawfull they their minds should vtter,
And such a hainous thing for me to mutter
My halfe spoke word? nor spake them priuilie,
Nor in a reede like Midaes familie:
Yet in my booke ile whisper secretly,
O little booke, I haue seene openly,
But now adorn'd is with long asses eares?
This in my booke I insert couertly,
Yet would not change my smiling Poesie
For Labeos Illiads. Who delighted is,
To reade bold Cratine, or crabd Eupolis:
Vntill with old age he waxe bleakish wan,
Reade or'e my Satyres, if by chance he can,
Some hidden knowledge find, the reauer than,
With feruent zeale my Satyres all will heare,
And reade me or'e with a prepared eare.
But such a reader, such a tinckring slaue,
For to peruse my lines I do not craue,
VVhose dunghill Muse delights to looke so low,
As cauell at a Grecians crooked shooe,
Or that can say vnto the blinde: thou'rt blind,
One which all faults in outward parts doth find.
Thinking himselfe one of authoritie,
Raisde to renowne perhaps and dignitie,
By bearing office late in Italie.
Because the false measures he hath broken,
Of Aretus.
Nor craue I him who takes his cheefe delight,
Numbers and figures in a boord to write,
Or in the dust, as our Astromoners,
Reioycing much if from Philosophers,
Some shamelesse whore do pull away the beard.
But vnto these, (when th' officers they haue heard,
And Dinner ends, in lustfull sort to liue)
The Curtizan Callirrhoe I giue.
The first Satyre of Iuuenall.
Still shall I then an hearer only bee,
And ne're put forth my hidden poesie?
With the bigge Theseods so often cumbred
Of whuling Codrus, and vnpunished:
Shall one recite alow'd his histories
To me, another his sadde Elegies?
Huge Telephus, ought he t'haue spent the day
Scotfree, or on a ful-writ Margent stay?
Of all the booke with audience euer tended,
Orestes, not as yet behind him ended.
And ne're put forth my hidden poesie?
With the bigge Theseods so often cumbred
Of whuling Codrus, and vnpunished:
Shall one recite alow'd his histories
To me, another his sadde Elegies?
Huge Telephus, ought he t'haue spent the day
Scotfree, or on a ful-writ Margent stay?
Of all the booke with audience euer tended,
Orestes, not as yet behind him ended.
Venus (to whome it is daungerous denying any reasonable request) hearing glowming Inuenall threaten so great a punishment, entreates my Muse, that for a while she would leaue him in his English tongue vnperfect yet to Venus she makes a vow, that Iuuenal, Horace, and Persius shall hereafter all be translated.
Loues Queene faire Venus all this while attended,
Wishing they would their criticke stile haue ended:
Hearing them thus maligne, snarle, raile, and bite,
Spewing the rancor of their enuious spight:
Her Godhead being most of all abused,
All possible meanes she for reuengement vsed:
Abhorring more their spightfull action,
That they exposde her to detraction:
Because she sau'd from Iunoes tyrannie,
Eneas sometimes prince of Italie:
Preseruing then Ascanius his bratte,
By sea and land from her malignant hate:
Thus much by much entreatie she obtainde:
Or by her owne powre she thus much then gainde,
I know not whether, that (for Satyres spight)
Italians should in fond loues take delight.
In stranger sinnes, sinnes which she was ashamed,
Among th' Italians rightly should be named.
Sinnes, scarlet sinnes, sinnes who delights to vse,
In other regions, thus we him abuse
(For through the world her wrath's inueterate)
In odious termes, Yon's one Italionate:
And (to be breefe) that lustfull venerie,
Should be the downfall of all Italie:
This is the cause Italians to this day,
Are euer readie, apt, and prone that way.
Not hauing fully quencht the flaming fire
Of vengeance, with th' Italians. Now in ire
She mounts her Charriot swifter then the wind,
Or subtile comprehension of the mind.
Which by two nimble Cocksparrowes was drawne,
Caparisond but lightly, with the lawne
Tooke from the Flowerdeluces inner skin,
Trapt and embost with marigolds: within
Sits Uenus naked, holding in her hand,
A tumbling shel-fish, with a mirtle wand,
Wearing a garland on her wimpled head,
Compacted of the white rose and the red:
None but the blinde boy Cupid durst approach,
For to be whurried with her in the coach.
The snow-white Graces running by their sides,
Were through the heauens their waggoners and guides,
Lashing the sparrowes vnder quiuering wings,
With whips of twisted gold, and siluer strings:
A Beuie of white Doues still flickering ouer,
From the Sunnes sight such beautie seemde to couer.
And thus she rode in triumph in her throne,
Whose radiant lustre like the Sunne beames shone.
Darting her raies into the heauens aboue,
As halfe dismaide the maiestie of Ioue:
All heauens beautie seemed farre the lesse,
Her naked beautie striuing to suppresse:
And shrunke aside, not daring once come nie her,
Iealouse of Ioue, least he by chance should spie her:
Knowing he would their glorious beautie scorne,
When one more faire appeared him beforne.
The presence alway of the greater light,
Doth make the lesser shine not halfe so bright.
Take heede faire Ladies, standing in the place
With one more faire, you lose your former grace.
Her iourney tended to our English clime.
And here she houered, and remaind a time.
Hearing before the Satyres enmitie,
Gainst her proceedings and her deitie,
Vsing all mischiefe gainst her enemies,
Thrusting her selfe in baudy elegies,
Polluting with her damned luxury,
All eares which vowd were vnto chastity,
And euermore thus on fel mischiefe bent,
Vntil she found (she neuer was content:)
Some of her Saints (belike) who euery day,
Vnto her shrine their orizons did say:
Which fore she askt, this boone to her was giuing.
That all the Satyres then in England liuing
Should sacrifisde be in the burning fire,
To pacifie so great a goddesse ire,
And from their Cyndars should a Satyre rise,
Which their Satyricke snarling should despise.
All which perform'd, she left our English shore,
Neuer I hope to trouble vs any more.
If trauailers this yeare of Iubilie,
Bring her not o're againe from Italie:
VVhich if they do, no sooner see her floate,
But Satyres pinch her spangled Petticoate:
You know her malice plainely, as you see
Your true discent, and lineall Pedigree.
Wishing they would their criticke stile haue ended:
Hearing them thus maligne, snarle, raile, and bite,
Spewing the rancor of their enuious spight:
Her Godhead being most of all abused,
All possible meanes she for reuengement vsed:
Abhorring more their spightfull action,
That they exposde her to detraction:
Because she sau'd from Iunoes tyrannie,
Eneas sometimes prince of Italie:
Preseruing then Ascanius his bratte,
By sea and land from her malignant hate:
Thus much by much entreatie she obtainde:
Or by her owne powre she thus much then gainde,
I know not whether, that (for Satyres spight)
Italians should in fond loues take delight.
In stranger sinnes, sinnes which she was ashamed,
Among th' Italians rightly should be named.
Sinnes, scarlet sinnes, sinnes who delights to vse,
In other regions, thus we him abuse
(For through the world her wrath's inueterate)
In odious termes, Yon's one Italionate:
And (to be breefe) that lustfull venerie,
Should be the downfall of all Italie:
This is the cause Italians to this day,
Are euer readie, apt, and prone that way.
Not hauing fully quencht the flaming fire
Of vengeance, with th' Italians. Now in ire
She mounts her Charriot swifter then the wind,
Or subtile comprehension of the mind.
Caparisond but lightly, with the lawne
Tooke from the Flowerdeluces inner skin,
Trapt and embost with marigolds: within
Sits Uenus naked, holding in her hand,
A tumbling shel-fish, with a mirtle wand,
Wearing a garland on her wimpled head,
Compacted of the white rose and the red:
None but the blinde boy Cupid durst approach,
For to be whurried with her in the coach.
The snow-white Graces running by their sides,
Were through the heauens their waggoners and guides,
Lashing the sparrowes vnder quiuering wings,
With whips of twisted gold, and siluer strings:
A Beuie of white Doues still flickering ouer,
From the Sunnes sight such beautie seemde to couer.
And thus she rode in triumph in her throne,
Whose radiant lustre like the Sunne beames shone.
Darting her raies into the heauens aboue,
As halfe dismaide the maiestie of Ioue:
All heauens beautie seemed farre the lesse,
Her naked beautie striuing to suppresse:
And shrunke aside, not daring once come nie her,
Iealouse of Ioue, least he by chance should spie her:
Knowing he would their glorious beautie scorne,
When one more faire appeared him beforne.
The presence alway of the greater light,
Doth make the lesser shine not halfe so bright.
Take heede faire Ladies, standing in the place
With one more faire, you lose your former grace.
And here she houered, and remaind a time.
Hearing before the Satyres enmitie,
Gainst her proceedings and her deitie,
Vsing all mischiefe gainst her enemies,
Thrusting her selfe in baudy elegies,
Polluting with her damned luxury,
All eares which vowd were vnto chastity,
And euermore thus on fel mischiefe bent,
Vntil she found (she neuer was content:)
Some of her Saints (belike) who euery day,
Vnto her shrine their orizons did say:
Which fore she askt, this boone to her was giuing.
That all the Satyres then in England liuing
Should sacrifisde be in the burning fire,
To pacifie so great a goddesse ire,
And from their Cyndars should a Satyre rise,
Which their Satyricke snarling should despise.
All which perform'd, she left our English shore,
Neuer I hope to trouble vs any more.
If trauailers this yeare of Iubilie,
Bring her not o're againe from Italie:
VVhich if they do, no sooner see her floate,
But Satyres pinch her spangled Petticoate:
You know her malice plainely, as you see
Your true discent, and lineall Pedigree.
FINIS.
A Prophesie of this present yeare, 1600.
------ Who liues past ninetie nine,
Shall afterward speake of a blessed time.
Shall afterward speake of a blessed time.
Then cease fond Satyres quipping Epigrammatists,
Slie scoffing Critickes, iearing Lucianists,
Sterne censuring Catoes, ful gorg'd Lucilians,
Enuie-swolne Cynickes al-eyde Epidaurians,
Vnringed routing hogges otter-toothd Rhamnusians,
Cease cease to bawle, thou wasp-stung Satyrist,
Let none so testy petulant insist:
Hold, stay thy lashing hand, and ierking rimes,
There is no lewdnesse in these Halcyon times.
By heauens poudred robe, and fiery element,
There is no sinne in Albion permament,
Vice lies deepe smothered in his darksome toome,
And Vertue takes possession of his roome,
All spotlesse pure, this first of Ianivere,
Propitiously began great Platoes yeare:
Deferre your rigorous envy-kindled rage,
Vntill some other stranger sinning age,
Let hell-borne sinne with your vntimely spight
Lie buried both in wombe of silent night.
Slie scoffing Critickes, iearing Lucianists,
Sterne censuring Catoes, ful gorg'd Lucilians,
Enuie-swolne Cynickes al-eyde Epidaurians,
Vnringed routing hogges otter-toothd Rhamnusians,
Cease cease to bawle, thou wasp-stung Satyrist,
Let none so testy petulant insist:
Hold, stay thy lashing hand, and ierking rimes,
There is no lewdnesse in these Halcyon times.
By heauens poudred robe, and fiery element,
There is no sinne in Albion permament,
Vice lies deepe smothered in his darksome toome,
And Vertue takes possession of his roome,
All spotlesse pure, this first of Ianivere,
Propitiously began great Platoes yeare:
Deferre your rigorous envy-kindled rage,
Vntill some other stranger sinning age,
Let hell-borne sinne with your vntimely spight
Lie buried both in wombe of silent night.
Prophet (whosoe're thou wert) heau'ns giue thee meede,
For this thy old-said saw, and truest reede,
If I but knew where lay thy senselesse vrne,
Vpon the same sweete odours I would burne,
And solemnize thy dated exequies,
Hoping to be inspir'd with prophesies,
That so I might the verriment vnfould,
What happen vs the next seuen hundred should:
For this thy old-said saw, and truest reede,
If I but knew where lay thy senselesse vrne,
Vpon the same sweete odours I would burne,
And solemnize thy dated exequies,
Hoping to be inspir'd with prophesies,
That so I might the verriment vnfould,
What happen vs the next seuen hundred should:
In euery nooke and angle now I burst,
To all assemblies boldly do I thrust,
To Paules, to plaies, to prizes, reuelings,
To dicing houses, Tauerne beuerings,
To bowling alleys, night-set merriments,
To Mile-end traynings, Tyburne dreriments,
To beare-baitings, and euery wonderment,
Each conduit-fray, and little blunderment.
Ennaunter some odde toyish fopperies,
Should he obscured from my searching eies.
But mong this rout I heare no foolish word,
In serious ernest, or in iesting bourd:
No scripture iests, no heau'n prophaning oaths,
No suddaine stabs, no French new-fangled cloaths.
To all assemblies boldly do I thrust,
To dicing houses, Tauerne beuerings,
To bowling alleys, night-set merriments,
To Mile-end traynings, Tyburne dreriments,
To beare-baitings, and euery wonderment,
Each conduit-fray, and little blunderment.
Ennaunter some odde toyish fopperies,
Should he obscured from my searching eies.
But mong this rout I heare no foolish word,
In serious ernest, or in iesting bourd:
No scripture iests, no heau'n prophaning oaths,
No suddaine stabs, no French new-fangled cloaths.
Gallus hath left his new-stampt blasphemies,
Rubrine disclaimes his damned heresies,
Writhled Sylene his gotish bitchery,
And Valodid his iugling witchery.
Baudy Melino needes not lust relieue,
With cordiall compounds, and preseruatiue,
Reine-running botches, pockes, are voided cleane,
Then Podelingus go and scrape againe,
In Florence stewes with lustfull Aretine:
Seale vp your Seringe, case vp your implements,
Trusse vp your trinckets, Leuca's instruments,
None vse in ioulting coaches hurried.
Rubrine disclaimes his damned heresies,
Writhled Sylene his gotish bitchery,
And Valodid his iugling witchery.
Baudy Melino needes not lust relieue,
With cordiall compounds, and preseruatiue,
Reine-running botches, pockes, are voided cleane,
Then Podelingus go and scrape againe,
In Florence stewes with lustfull Aretine:
Seale vp your Seringe, case vp your implements,
Trusse vp your trinckets, Leuca's instruments,
None vse in ioulting coaches hurried.
Now Lucia lookes like one twise buried:
Expecting hourly passage to her Graue,
No muddy mind no slimie dunghil slaue,
But hates with Pickt-hatch t'haue his name defaced,
Vices are loathd, and vertue is embraced,
Giue me a kingdome Cynicke, now I can
Shew thee a complete rightly perfect man.
Expecting hourly passage to her Graue,
No muddy mind no slimie dunghil slaue,
But hates with Pickt-hatch t'haue his name defaced,
Vices are loathd, and vertue is embraced,
Giue me a kingdome Cynicke, now I can
Shew thee a complete rightly perfect man.
O wakefull prophet that so farre away,
Could spie the dawning of this New yeares day!
And in thy true authentique prophesie,
Foretell that brutish sensuality,
Leopard-skind, soule-polluting Sodomy,
Dogges appetite, and damn'd impiety,
Should be transported into Italie
From England, this same yeare of Iubile:
Could spie the dawning of this New yeares day!
Foretell that brutish sensuality,
Leopard-skind, soule-polluting Sodomy,
Dogges appetite, and damn'd impiety,
Should be transported into Italie
From England, this same yeare of Iubile:
But tell me Satyres now in seriousnesse,
Why ript ye forth the guttes of vitiousnesse,
Or dipt your pens in puddle beastlinesse?
It is dishonor, and indignity,
Vnto a Poets great supremacy.
For by the worlds pure and immaculate
Selfe-yeelding-all Saturnus maidens state,
Not for a world of Indian treasury,
Would I the world in tearmes so villifie,
Or proue it in my wrangling poesie,
A Brokers shop of vile iniquitie:
Nor should my lauish and malignant tongue,
Teare out the bowells of sinnes hidden long,
Hooke out abhorring-nature strange delights,
Drownd in the red sea with the Sodomites,
For whilst such couered sinnes you do vnvaile,
Crabbde reprehension sets them but to sale.
Why ript ye forth the guttes of vitiousnesse,
Or dipt your pens in puddle beastlinesse?
It is dishonor, and indignity,
Vnto a Poets great supremacy.
For by the worlds pure and immaculate
Selfe-yeelding-all Saturnus maidens state,
Not for a world of Indian treasury,
Would I the world in tearmes so villifie,
Or proue it in my wrangling poesie,
A Brokers shop of vile iniquitie:
Nor should my lauish and malignant tongue,
Teare out the bowells of sinnes hidden long,
Hooke out abhorring-nature strange delights,
Drownd in the red sea with the Sodomites,
For whilst such couered sinnes you do vnvaile,
Crabbde reprehension sets them but to sale.
Not long agoe (by chance) these eares of mine,
Ore-heard yong Tusco reade a Satyres line,
And grauel'd (as it seem'd) stood censuring,
His eies fixt on a weather-cocke, misconstruing
The gloomie sence, and sembled thereupon,
Of fryes and puisnes a conuocation:
Slubbering the margent with their greasie thumbs,
They found no meant, till court-boy Brisco comes.
This agent patient in a moment spide
Light in this darke line. Tusco then replide:
I'me glad of this, I thought there had not bin
Such nouell pastimes, such a new found sinne:
And since in Paules (I walking) Tusco met,
And at his heeles I saw yong Brisco iet.
But by the sprightly essence of my soule,
My retchlesse lines shall Brisco not controule:
Nor rubbe the botch sore on his ridden side,
Nor gird the galled blisters on his hide:
That would but more his griefe exasperate,
And all the world by him exulcerate.
Sinne's like a puddle or a mattery sincke,
The more we stirre them, stil the more they stincke.
Ore-heard yong Tusco reade a Satyres line,
And grauel'd (as it seem'd) stood censuring,
His eies fixt on a weather-cocke, misconstruing
The gloomie sence, and sembled thereupon,
Of fryes and puisnes a conuocation:
Slubbering the margent with their greasie thumbs,
They found no meant, till court-boy Brisco comes.
This agent patient in a moment spide
I'me glad of this, I thought there had not bin
Such nouell pastimes, such a new found sinne:
And since in Paules (I walking) Tusco met,
And at his heeles I saw yong Brisco iet.
But by the sprightly essence of my soule,
My retchlesse lines shall Brisco not controule:
Nor rubbe the botch sore on his ridden side,
Nor gird the galled blisters on his hide:
That would but more his griefe exasperate,
And all the world by him exulcerate.
Sinne's like a puddle or a mattery sincke,
The more we stirre them, stil the more they stincke.
O could the circuit of my pulsiue braine,
Harbour but in it such a cinicke straine,
I would haue scourgde selfe-blind Brauortian,
Keeping in Newgate his lewd curtezan,
So lushiously with sacke, and marrow pies,
Whilst in the Fleete his Vnkle staruing lies,
There fleete, or sincke, or drowne, his care is more,
To snort in th' armes of his shape-altring whore.
Harbour but in it such a cinicke straine,
I would haue scourgde selfe-blind Brauortian,
Keeping in Newgate his lewd curtezan,
So lushiously with sacke, and marrow pies,
Whilst in the Fleete his Vnkle staruing lies,
There fleete, or sincke, or drowne, his care is more,
To snort in th' armes of his shape-altring whore.
When (for a coach) Malberia in a cart,
Was ioulted, then I crost the streetes athwart,
With rapiers pendant Minke and Mario ran,
After this fat luxurious Curtezan:
With draffie pispots still as she was crowned,
Minks wept for Loue, for Anger Mario frowned.
This would haue fazd a Satyres pisse-stept whip,
They scape my ierking rime or iocund quip.
Was ioulted, then I crost the streetes athwart,
With rapiers pendant Minke and Mario ran,
After this fat luxurious Curtezan:
With draffie pispots still as she was crowned,
Minks wept for Loue, for Anger Mario frowned.
This would haue fazd a Satyres pisse-stept whip,
They scape my ierking rime or iocund quip.
Though Cudro (not for kingdomes would I name him,
That were enough for euermore to shame him)
Maintaine his seruant, sister, and his whore,
And yet maintaine his sister and no more,
Should I vnvaile incestuous luxurie?
Nay rather Curtaine-or'e such brothelrie.
That were enough for euermore to shame him)
Maintaine his seruant, sister, and his whore,
Should I vnvaile incestuous luxurie?
Nay rather Curtaine-or'e such brothelrie.
Though Vicro bezzle on the ale-house bench,
Tills lacket's bawdie with the barmie drench:
And thereupon vnto his audience preach,
At euerie full poynt ysking forth a belch:
Slupping the Challice like a drunken Scale,
Where frothie lambs-woll swimmes in nappie ale:
And thence returne and guzzle off the Boule,
Tills eies gan startle in his iobber noule,
Tills lacket's bawdie with the barmie drench:
And thereupon vnto his audience preach,
At euerie full poynt ysking forth a belch:
Slupping the Challice like a drunken Scale,
Where frothie lambs-woll swimmes in nappie ale:
And thence returne and guzzle off the Boule,
Tills eies gan startle in his iobber noule,
Though Dario bragge, that for reward or fee,
He neuer made his Muse a mercenarie:
Yet written, giues her vnto Noble men,
And in exchange receiues their Angels then.
He neuer made his Muse a mercenarie:
Yet written, giues her vnto Noble men,
And in exchange receiues their Angels then.
Though Lacrion in a brauerie disburse,
For jingling spurs, the jingling of his purse,
He spurs not me, nor do his rowels pricke:
And wherefore then gainst Lacreon should I kicke?
Why should I Darios bragge reitterate,
Or damned Vicroes vice exaggerate.
For jingling spurs, the jingling of his purse,
He spurs not me, nor do his rowels pricke:
And wherefore then gainst Lacreon should I kicke?
Why should I Darios bragge reitterate,
Or damned Vicroes vice exaggerate.
Burno exclaimde, as Cicero wont to crie,
When Cateline did worke conspiracie:
O Times, O Manners lewd and impious,
When his owne Manners made the Time so vicious.
What beastlinesse by others you haue showne,
Such by your selues ti's thought that you haue knowne:
But Vice this yeare of Vertue makes an end,
Ill at the worst, doth alway gin to mend.
When Cateline did worke conspiracie:
O Times, O Manners lewd and impious,
When his owne Manners made the Time so vicious.
What beastlinesse by others you haue showne,
Such by your selues ti's thought that you haue knowne:
But Vice this yeare of Vertue makes an end,
Ill at the worst, doth alway gin to mend.
FINIS.
Favnvs and Melliflora | ||