Eglogs, Epytaphes, and Sonettes Newly written by Barnabe Googe |
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Cupido Conquered. |
 | Eglogs, Epytaphes, and Sonettes |  |
Cupido Conquered.
The sweetest time of al the yeareit was when as the Sonne,
Had newly entred Gemini,
and warmynge heate begun:
Whan euery tre was clothed greene,
and flowers fayre dyd show,
And when the whyt and blowmynge May
on Hawthorns thicke did grow,
Whan sore I longd to seeke a broade,
to se some Pleasaunt syght,
A mid my woes and heauye happes,
that myght my Mynde delyght,
Care wold not let me byde within,
but forst me foorth to go:
And bad me seeke sume present helpe,
for to relyue my wo.
to vew the garnysht trees?
What tyme the Son was moūted vp,
twirt nyne and ten degrees.
From Flowers flew sweete ayers abroad,
delighting much my brayn,
With syght & smels gan sorow fade,
and Ioy returne agayne.
So that in mynde I much reioyce.
to feele my self so lyght:
For gorgyous syghtes & odours sweet
had new reuyued my spryght.
Besyde the pleasaunt Harmonye,
that syngyng Byrdes did make:
Bad me pul vpp my Hart agayne,
and sorrow sone forsake.
For though (quoth Reason.) she be gon
on whom thy Lyfe dependes,
Yet fond it is to carke and care
where there is none amendes.
Thus foorth I went, & in the grooues
I raunged heare and theare,
Wheras I hard suche pleasaūt tunes
as Heauen had ben neare.
ben present ther to playe,
Or if Sir Orpheus myght haue held,
his Harp, that present day.
Or if Apollo with his Lute,
had stryuen to excell,
None of them all, by Musycke sholde,
haue borne away the Bell.
I rather iudge the thracian wold,
his Harpe wherwith he played,
Haue cast away as one whom Ire,
had vtterly dismayed.
Such passyng tunes of sundry Byrds,
I neuer herd before,
The further I went in the Woods.
the noyse resounded more.
O happy Byrdes quoth I what lyfe,
is this that you do leade,
How far from Care and mysery,
how far from Feare and dread:
With what reioysynge melodie,
passe you this fadyng Lyfe,
While Man vnhappiest creatur liues
In wretched toyle and stryfe.
this plesaunt Harmony.
And gased at these lytle Fooles,
that made suche Melody:
Tyll at the length I gan to spye,
a stately Lawrell tree,
So plast and sett in such a guyse,
That as it seamed to me,
Dame Nature stroue to shew her self
in plantyng such a thyng,
For Euen out besyde the rocke,
a fountayne cleane did spryng,
Where in the water I beheld,
resembled wonderous trew,
The Whyte & Greene of al the trees,
adourned late of new.
And how in order eake they stood,
a goodly syght to se,
And there I might discerne the Byrds
that songe in euery tree.
To moue the Byll & shake the wings
in vteryng Musicke sweete
And heare and thear, to flye to feade,
and eftesones theare to meete.
and stare vpon the Spryng,
For why me thought it dyd surmount,
eache other kynde of thyng.
Now was the Son got vp aloft,
and raught the mydle Lyne,
And in the Well, the Golden Gloobe,
with flamyng Beames dyd shyne,
Wherof the Bryghtnes was so great
that I might not endure,
Lenger to looke within the Spryng,
whose waters were so pure.
Unwyllyng went I thence away,
and vnderneth the tree,
I laid me down whose braūches brode
dyd keepe the Son from me.
Thynkyng to rest me there a whyle,
tyll fallyng some degrees
Syr Phebus shuld haue hyd hym self,
behynde the shadowyng trees,
And thē for to haue vewd the Spring,
and marked euery place,
And seene yf there I could haue spied
the weepyng Biblis face.
wherein Narcissus dyed,
Or els the Well, to which was turnd
poore Biblis whyle she cryed.
But whether it was werynes,
with labour that I tooke,
Or Fume yt frō the Spryng dyd ryse,
wherin I late dyd looke.
Or yf it were the sweete accorde
that syngyng Byrdes dyd keepe,
Or what it was, I knowe no whit
but I fell fast a sleepe.
I thynke the woddy Nimphes agreed
that I shuld haue this chaūce,
And that it was theyr pleasure so,
to showe me thyngs in traunce.
Whilste I lay thus in slumbre deepe.
I myght perceyue to stande,
A Person clothed all in whyte,
that held a Rod in hande.
Whiche was me thought of Massey Gold,
I knew it very weale,
For that was it, made Argos sleepe,
whyle he dyd Io steale.
that it was Mercuri.
My Hart at fyrst began to faynt,
yet at the length quoth I
Thou Goddesse Son, why standste yu there
what busines now wt thee,
What meanest yu in thy flying weed,
For to appeare to me,
And therwithall my thought I staied,
and could no farther speake,
For Feare did force my spech to fayle,
and Courage waxed weake.
Which whan the sone of Maia sawe,
he tooke me by the hand,
Looke vp quoth he be not affrayed:
but boldly by me stand.
The Muses all of Helicon,
haue sent me now to thee:
Whō thou doest serue & whose yu sekst
For euer more to be.
And thankes to the by me they sende,
Bycause thou tookest payne,
In theyr Affaires (a thankeles thyng)
to occupie thy Brayne.
for Momus ill report,
But endyng that thou hast begun,
to spyte the Canckred sorte.
And thynk not thou, that thou art he,
that canst escape Disdayne,
The day shall come when thankfull men,
shall well accept thy Paine,
But rather lay before thyne eyes,
the hie attemptes of those,
Whose statly style wt painfull proofe,
theyr worthy wytes disclose,
Marke him that thundred out ye deeds
Of olde Anchises sun,
Whose English verse gyues Maroes grace,
In all that he hath done,
Whose death the Muses sorrow much,
that lacke of aged dayes,
Amongest the cōmon Brytons old,
should hynder Virgils prayse.
Mark him yt hath wel framde a Glasse,
for states to looke vpon,
Whose labour shews the ends of thē,
that lyued long a gone.
thyne owne famylyar Frende,
By whom ye Spaniards hawty Style
in Englysh Uerse is pende.
Marke these same three, & other moe,
whose doyngs well are knowne,
Whose fayre attempts in euery place
The flying fame hath blowne,
Hast thou not harde, thy selfe in place
full ofte and many a tyme,
Lo here the Auctor loseth grace,
Loe here a doltysh Ryme,
Now syth that they haue this reward
who passe the euen as farre,
As in the nyght Diana doth,
Excell the dimmest Starre.
Take thou no scorne at euyll tongs,
what neadst thou to disdayne?
Syth they whō none can well amend
haue lyke fruyte of theyr payne.
Moreouer yet the Ladyes nyne,
haue all cōmaunded me,
Bycause they know, the blynded God
hath somethyng pearced the.
yf all thyngs happen ryght,
Whiche shall gyue the occasion good,
with ioyfull mynde to wryght.
To this, I wold haue answered fayne
and theare began to speake,
But as my words were cōmyng forth
my purpose he dyd breake.
Come on (quoth he,) none Aunswere now
we may no lenger staye.
But frame thy selfe, to flye abroade,
for hence we must awaye.
And here withall, on both my sydes,
two wyngs me thought dyd growe,
Of mighty breadth, away went he,
and after hym I flowe.
And euer as we mounted vp,
I lookte vp on my wyngs,
And prowde I was, me thought to see
suche vnacquaynted thyngs.
Tyll foorth we flewe, my Guyde & I,
with mowntyng flyght apace,
Beholdyng Ryuers, woods, & Hylles
and many a goodly place.
a Gorgyous Castell spye,
Thear downe began my guyd to fall,
and downward eake fell I,
Lo heare the place where yu must light
Gan Mercury to saye,
Farwell and note what thou doost se,
for I must hence away.
And with this same a way flewe he,
and left me there alone,
Wher as with Feare a masde I stood,
and thus began to mone.
Alas where am I now become,
what Cursed Chaunce hath blown,
Me from the place where I was bred,
to Countreis heare vnknown.
What ment that fell vnhappy Feend,
that Maia brought to lyght,
To bring me from my Hartes desyre,
to see thys dolefull syght.
Unhappy Wretche, I wolde I hadde,
his Person heare in hand,
Then shuld I wreak mine Ire of him,
that brought me to this Land.
for words auayle not nowe,
Tis best to learne, what place it is,
and yet I knowe not howe.
Alas that here were Ptholome,
with Compasse Globe in hande,
Whose Arte shuld showe me true the place
& Clymate where I stande,
Well yet what soeuer chaūce theron
what soeuer Realme it be,
Yon Castell wyll I vysyte sure,
hap what hap wyll to me.
Thus much me thought alone I spoke
and then I forewarde went,
And cursed eke an hundred folde,
them that me thyther sent.
Thus to the Castell, strayght I came,
whiche when I vewde aboute,
And sawe the workmanshyp therof
full gorgeouslye set oute,
I entred in, with fearefull Harte,
muche dautyng howe to speede,
But euer hope of happye chaunce,
my heauye Hart dyd feede.
the walles were raysed hye,
And all engraued with Storyes fayre
of costlye Imagrye.
There myght I se, wt wondrous Arte,
the Picture porturde playne,
Of olde Orion Hunter good,
whom Scorpions vyle had slayne.
And by hym stoode his Borspeare and
his other Instruments,
His Net, his Darte, his Coursar, and
his Hunters restyng Tents.
And vnder hym was wrytten fayre,
in Letters all of Golde,
Here lies he slain, wt Scorpions sting,
vnhappy wretche that wolde,
Haue forced the Ladye of this forte
with stayne of Royaltie.
To haue consented to his wyll,
in fylthye Lecherye.
Wherfore beware that enters here,
what soeuer man thou art?
Accounte thy selfe but lost, yf that
thou bearste a lecherous Hart.
and markde the Storye well,
I ioyed muche, for why I knew,
Diana there dyd dwell.
Diana she that Goddesse is,
of Uirgyns sacred mynde,
By whom Orion Hunter wylde,
his Fatall ende dyd fynde.
Next vnto hym, I myght beholde,
Acteon wofull wyght,
In what a maner, all to torne,
his cruell Dogs hym dyght.
There might be seene, theyr gredye mouths
wt Maisters blud embrued,
And all his owne vnhappye men,
that fast theyr Lorde pursued.
And many Storyes more there war
engraued: to long to tell.
What fearefull haps to many men,
for lust vncleane befell.
Thus as I stoode with musyng mind
beholdyng all thyngs theare,
In rush ech at the Gate behynde
a Post with heauy cheare.
and after folowed I,
To here what kynde of Newes he brought
or what he ment therby.
He passyng through the Hall in haste,
at entraunce neuer stayed,
But blowyng fast for want of breath,
as one almoste dismayed.
Approcht in Presence to the syght
of chaste Dianaes face,
That all encompaste rounde aboute
with Uirgyns in that place,
In loftye Chayre of hye estate
dyd syt, all clothde in whyte,
Of Syluer hewe, that shynyg gaue,
me thought, a gorgeous syght.
There dyd I se, fayre Dido Queene
and fayre Hisiphile,
And next to them Lucretia sat,
and chaste Penelope.
But these same foure, no Bowes dyd beare
for Uirgyns sacred state,
They had forsaken long ago,
and ioynde with faythfull Mate.
of fayre Dianaes trayne,
Whose trade with toyle amongst the woods
was euer bent to payne.
Whose sacred minds, were ner defyld
with any wanton lust,
Whiche neuer could the fyckle state,
of Louers fancye truste.
The chyefe of them was Ismenis,
whom best Diana loued,
And next in place sat Hyale,
whom neuer Fancye moued,
Next vnto them sat Nipha fayre,
a Gemme of Chastyte.
And next to her sat Phyale,
not basest in degree,
Behynde them all, of passyng forme,
fayre Rhanis held her place,
And nye to her I myght discerne
Dame Piccas shynyng face,
These Pryncely Nymphes accompaned
Diana in her Baynes,
Whyle as in shape of Stagge poore wretche
Acteon had his paynes.
as placed before the rest,
Hipolitus whom Phedraes spyte?
most Cruelly had drest.
Hipolitus the vnspotted Pearle:
of pure Uirginitie,
Whose noble Hart culd not agre,
to stepdames vyllany.
Next vnto hym sat Continence,
and next was Labour placed?
Of bodie bygge and strong he was,
and somwhat Crabtre faced.
Next hym was placed Abstinence,
a leane vnwyldy wyght,
Whose Diet thyn had banisht cleane,
all fond and vayne delyght.
A Thousād more me thought ther war
whose names I did not know,
And yf I did to longe it were,
in Uerses them to show.
Down of his knees the messenger,
before them al doth fall,
And vnto chast Diana thear,
for succour thus doth call.
and Sacred Uirgins mynd:
Let Pitie from your noble Hart:
redresse for Misers fynd.
Let not our weryed Hartes sustaine,
suche wrongfull Tyranye?
Quench quickly now the fyrie flames
of open Iniurye.
This sayd for Feare he staied awhyle,
and than began agayne,
A myghty Prynce (quoth he) is com,
with great vnruly trayne.
All armed well at euery poynt,
(a dredefull syght to se:)
And euery man in feates of armes,
ryght skylfull all they be.
The Captaine chyfe in Charyot ryde
with pompe and stately Pryde:
With Bow in hand of glistring gold,
and Quyuer by his syde.
Wher many a shaft full sharp doth ly:
and many a mortall Darte,
That hath wt poysoned force destroid,
Full many a yealdyng Harte.
and taken many a Forte,
Hath sakte them all, and spoylde them quyte
& slayne a wondrous sorte.
In straungest guyse, for where he shoots
the woūde doth fester styll
And all the Surgians that we haue
can not remoue the yll,
In lytell tyme the gryefe so sore,
doth growe in euery parte,
Distraynyng through the venomed vaines
doth so torment the Hart.
That some to ryd themselues therof
in fluds full deepe they leape,
And drown thē selues som downward falles
from Houses hye by heape,
Some Anker cast on crossed Beames
to ryd them selues from stryfe,
And hang them selues full thycke on trees
to ende a wretched lyfe.
And they whose fearefull mynds dare not
thus make an ende of wo,
With greuous flames, consumynge long
theyr lyfe at length forgo.
this Tygre vs anoyes,
And cruellye hath spoyled vs,
of all our wonted ioyes.
Whom yf your Grace, do not repuls,
and fynde some present staye,
Undoubtedly he wyll wyn this Realme,
and take vs all awaye.
At this, the Ladyes all amazde
for feare dyd looke full pale,
And all beheld with mazed eyes,
the Wretche that tolde the tale.
Tyll at the length Hipolitus
of Hart and courage hye,
Nothyng abashde, with sodain newes
began thus to replye.
Caste fere away, fayre Dames (quoth he)
dismaye your selues no more,
I know by whō this mischief spryngs
and know a helpe therfore.
It is not suche a dredefull Wyght,
as he doth here reporte,
That entred is within these partes,
and plagues the symple sorte.
I know it I full well:
It is the scornfull blynded Boy,
that neare to vs doth dwell.
Whom Mars long tyme a go begatt,
of that Lasciuious dame:
That Linckt in Chaines for Lechery,
receaued an open shame.
A disobedient blynded Foole,
that durst presume to turne:
His dartes agaynst his mother ons,
and causd her sore to burne.
An auncient foo: to all this Court,
Of long tyme he hath ben:
And hath attempted euermore,
by this: Renowne to wyn.
His cruell Hart, of Pitie voyed,
doth spare no kynd of age:
But tender youth and dotyng age,
he strykes in furyous rage.
And laughes to scorne the sely soules
that he hath wounded so,
No fine appoynted of theyr ils,
no end of al theyr wo.
to entre heare in Place,
And heare to threten Conquests thus,
agaynst Dianaes Grace,
Let him besure his loftie Mynde,
this deade shall soone repent,
If that your grace do here agre,
with Fre and full concent.
To make me Cheftain of this Charge
and whom I lyst to chose,
If Prisoner heare I bryng hym not,
Let me myne Honour lose.
And there he ceasde with ioyfull looks
the Ladyes smyled all,
And thorough his wordes they hoaped soone
to se Cupidoes fall.
With heauenly voice Diana thear,
as chyefe aboue the rest:
This wise her words began to frame,
From out her sacred brest.
My good Hipolitus quoth she,
whose true and faythfull mynd:
In doubtfull daunger often I,
do alwayes redy fynd.
of all my spytfull foes,
Thou be frō whose vnspotted hart,
the fluddes of vertue flowes.
whose seruise long hath ben aproued,
within this court of myne,
Restrayne this boyes vnruly rage,
by valyant means of thyne,
I geue the leaue & thee appoint,
my cheyf Lieutenant here,
Chuse whom yu wilt take whom yu lyst,
thou nedest no whit to feare.
With this he rose from out his place,
and lokynge round a bout:
Chose Abstinence and Continence,
with Labour Captayne stout.
And with these thre he tooke his leaue
of all the Ladyes there,
Who doubtyng of his safe returne,
let fall full many a teare.
He lefte them theare in heauynes,
and made no more delaye,
But outward went & toward ye Cāpe,
he tooke the nearest way.
was sent abroad in haste,
To rayse vp souldiars round about,
and with theyr Captayne plaste.
To bring them foorth & marching on,
Hipolitus to meet,
Than sounded Trumpetes al abroad,
and Drumes in euery streat.
And souldiears good lyke swarmes of Bees
theyr Captains prease about
All armed braue in Corsletes white,
they march with courage stout.
And forwarde shoue, till at the length
where as theyr marshall lyes,
They fynd the place the ioifull soūds,
Do mount aboue the skyes.
Hipolitus receaued them all,
with woordes of plesaunt cheare,
And placith them in good aray,
bycause the camp was neare.
Three Battails big of them he frams,
and of the Rereward strong,
Hath Labour charge who steppeth foorth,
before the statlye thronge:
was placed abstinens.
And Ioind to him for Policie,
was Captayne Continence:
The Battayle mayne Hipolitus,
him selfe did chuse to guyd.
And in the formest front therof,
on Courser fayre doth ryde:
The Trumpets sound march on apace,
and Dromes the same do stryke.
Then forward moues ye Army great,
In order Martiall lyke.
I cam behynde (me thought) and best,
it seamed then to me:
To vew the dynt of dreedfull sword,
and feyghter none to be.
Thie Spies were sent abroad to vew,
the place where Cupide lay:
A longest a Ryuer fayre and broad,
they spye a pleasaunt way,
Which waye they tooke and passynge foorth,
at length apeares a plaine:
Both large & vast wher lyes ye rowt,
of Cruell Cupides trayne.
and strayght in syght we haue,
The ferfull show of all our Foes,
and dredfull army braue,
The first yt marched frō Cupides Camp
was drowsy Idlenes.
The chyefest frend that loue had then,
the next was vyle Exces.
A Lubbour great, mishapen most,
of all that thear I saw,
As much I thynk in quantitie,
as Horses syre can draw.
A myghty face both broad and flat,
and all with Rubies set:
Muche nosed lyke a Turky Cocke,
with teth as blacke as Get.
A Belye byg, full trust with guts,
and Pestels two, lyke Postes,
A knaue full square in euery poynt,
a Prynce of dronken Dostes.
Upon a Camell couched hye,
for Horse coulde none hym beare,
A mighty Staffe in hande he had,
his Foes a farre to feare.
doth com in Charyot fayre,
With ragyng flames flong rounde about
he pestres all the ayre.
And after hym, for tryumphe leades
a thousande wounded Harts,
That gush abrode hot streams of blud
new persed with his Dartes,
The army redy for to meete
and all at poynt to fyght,
Hipolitus with lusty cheare
and with a noble Spryght.
His Souldiers to encourage. Thus
his wordes begyns to place.
My valyaunt frends and Subiects all
of Chast Dianaes Grace.
whose noble Harts were neuer staind
with spot of Dastards mynd,
Behold our enemyes here at hande,
behold yon coward blynd.
Of lytle force, comparde with you
howe in a fond araye,
They stragle out no ordre dewe,
obserued in theyr waye.
to gouerne them withall,
That neuer knew what fighting ment
but lyue to Uenus thrall.
Marke hym that guyds the rerewarde there
that vyle deformed Churle,
Whose foggy Mates, with paunches syde
do thycke aboute him whurle.
And he that formost hether coms
loe what a handsome Squyre,
Sure full vnapt to kepe the felde,
more fyt to syt by the fyre.
In fyne lo Uictorye at hande
with hye tryumphant Crowne,
Bent for to spoyle our Foes of Fame,
and cast theyr Glorye downe.
Fyght therfore now courageouslye,
and ryd your frendes of feare,
Declare your Manhod valyauntly,
and let your Harts appeare.
With this the sounde begyns to moūt
and noyse hye to ryse,
And warlyke tunes begyn to dash,
them selues agaynst the Skyes.
and Darts full thycke they flye
And couerd thycke, the armyes both,
and framde a Counter Skye.
And now the Battayls both be ioynde
with stroke of Hande to trye.
The quarell iust and for to fynde,
where Victory doth lye,
The Souldyers all of Idlenes,
where Labour coms, do fall,
And wounded sore, by force of hym,
all bathde in blud, they sprall.
Hym selfe alone with Idlenes
nowe hande to hande doth fyght
And after many a mortall wounde,
destroyes the selye wyght.
Then ioynes with him Syr Abstinence
with ayde & succours newe,
And both vpon the gresye Hoaste,
of Glottonye they flewe.
The Captayn doth aduaunce hymself
with Abstinence to meete,
The vnweldy Creature smitten there
is tombled vnder feete.
and all Cupidoes frendes.
Beholdynge Fortune thus to frowne,
by flyght them selfe defendes.
Cupido whan he sees hymselfe,
thus spoylde of all his ayde,
The chyef Supporters of his Courte,
so sodaynly decayde.
Bad turne his Charyottes than with haste
and fast away he flyes,
Amongst the chaste Hipolitus
on swyftye Courser hyes,
Than all with Ioye they after run,
downe thycke the enemyes fall,
The blinded boy, for succour straight
to Venus hye doth call,
But all his cryes auayleth not,
his Foes hym fast pursewe,
The dryuer of his Charyot soone,
Hipolitus there slewe.
And down frō Horse, the wretche doth fall.
The horses spoyld of guyde,
A Souldier stoute of Reasons bande,
is wylled there to ryde.
restrayns hym of his flyght,
His Honours lost and taken thus,
Cupide in dolfull plyght.
These wordes with tremblyng voyce began
syth Fortune thus quoth he,
Hath giuen her doome from doubtfull brest
& turnd her Grace from me.
Syth that the most misfortune nowe,
that euer I could fynd,
Hath chaunced to me and Myser I,
by Destenyes assygnde,
Am Captyue heare, consydre yet,
what Fortune myght haue wrought
And made a Canquerer of me,
and you in Bondage brought.
Consydre yet the wofull plyght,
wherin you had remaynd,
If that the Gods my happy state,
had not so sore disdaynd,
And by your Gryef, than mesure mine
showe mercye in this case,
That Conquerour cōmended is,
who gyues to pytie place.
In euery kynd of state,
No man so hauty lyues on earth,
but one may fynd his mate,
These wordes Hipolitus I speake,
to bread no farther stryfe,
I speake not this of malyce heare,
my sute is for my lyfe.
Syth Fortune thus hath fauord you,
graunt thus my small request,
And let me lyue yf mercy dwell,
within your Noble brest,
By this tyme Morpheus had disperst
the drowsy Clowd of sleape,
And frō my braynes the quyet traūce,
began full fast to Creape.
And dounward fell. I wakd therwith
and lokyng round a bout,
Long tyme I mused where I was,
my mynd was styl in doubt.
Tyll at the length I vewde the tree,
and place where as I sat,
And well beheld the pleasaūt Spryng
that late I wondred at.
I sawe besyde the Golden Globe,
of Phebus shynyng bryght,
That Westwarde halfe, dyd hyde his face
approchyng fast the nyght.
Eche Byrde began to shrowd hymself
in tree to take his rest
And ceaste the pleasaunt tunes yt late
proceaded from theyr Breaste.
I homewarde went, and left them all,
and restles all that nyght,
I musynge laye, tormented thus,
with fond lamentyng spryght.
When Phebus rose to passe the tyme,
and passe my gryefe awaye
I toke my Pen and pend the Dreame
that made my Muses staye.
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