Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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She Answered,
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
She Answered,
O Sir
If you did know the torments I do feel;
My Soul is rackt upon Ill Fortune's Wheel:
My Innocency by aspersion whipt,
And my pure Chastity of Fame is stript:
My Love's neglected and forsaken quite,
Banisht from that my Soul took most delight.
My Heart was plac'd upon a Valiant Man,
Who in the Warrs much Honour bravely wan.
His actions all by wisdom placed were,
And his discourse delighted every Ear:
His Bounty, like the Sun, gave life and light
To those whom Misery had eclipsed quite.
This Man my Person seem'd for to admire;
My Love before the World he did desire:
Told me, the Gods might sooner Heaven leave,
Than he forsake my love, or truth deceive.
But O vile Jealousie, a Lover's Devil!
Tormenting Thoughts with Suspitions evil;
Frighting the Mind with false Imaginations,
Burying all Joys in deepest Contemplations:
Long lay it smuther'd, but at last out-broke
VVith Hate; in Rage and Spleen base words it spoke.
Slander and Infamy in Circles round,
My innocent Youth with sharpest Tongues do wound:
But his Inconstancy did wound me more
Than Slander, Spite, or Malice did before:
For he another married, and left me
Clouded in dark Disgrace, black Infamy.
VVith that she fetch'd a Sigh; Heav'n bless, said she,
This cruel unkind Man, who e're he be.
I faint, Death digs my Grave, O lay me in
This watry Monument; then may the Spring
In murmures soft, with blubbering words relate,
And dropping weep at my Ill Fortune's Fate.
Then on a Groan her Soul with wings did flie
Up to the Heavens, and the Gods on high:
VVhich when I saw, my Eyes with grief did flow,
Although her Soul I thought to Heaven did go.
And musing long, at last I chanc'd to see
A Gentleman which handsome seem'd to be.
He coming near, ask'd me who there did lie?
I said, 'Twas one for Love and Grief did die.
Hearing my words, he started back, Brows bent,
VVith trembling legs he to the Body went;
VVhich when he view'd, his blood fell from his face,
His Eyes were fix'd, and standing in one place.
At last kneel'd down, and thus did say,
If you did know the torments I do feel;
My Soul is rackt upon Ill Fortune's Wheel:
My Innocency by aspersion whipt,
And my pure Chastity of Fame is stript:
My Love's neglected and forsaken quite,
Banisht from that my Soul took most delight.
My Heart was plac'd upon a Valiant Man,
Who in the Warrs much Honour bravely wan.
His actions all by wisdom placed were,
And his discourse delighted every Ear:
His Bounty, like the Sun, gave life and light
To those whom Misery had eclipsed quite.
This Man my Person seem'd for to admire;
My Love before the World he did desire:
51
Than he forsake my love, or truth deceive.
But O vile Jealousie, a Lover's Devil!
Tormenting Thoughts with Suspitions evil;
Frighting the Mind with false Imaginations,
Burying all Joys in deepest Contemplations:
Long lay it smuther'd, but at last out-broke
VVith Hate; in Rage and Spleen base words it spoke.
Slander and Infamy in Circles round,
My innocent Youth with sharpest Tongues do wound:
But his Inconstancy did wound me more
Than Slander, Spite, or Malice did before:
For he another married, and left me
Clouded in dark Disgrace, black Infamy.
VVith that she fetch'd a Sigh; Heav'n bless, said she,
This cruel unkind Man, who e're he be.
I faint, Death digs my Grave, O lay me in
This watry Monument; then may the Spring
In murmures soft, with blubbering words relate,
And dropping weep at my Ill Fortune's Fate.
Then on a Groan her Soul with wings did flie
Up to the Heavens, and the Gods on high:
VVhich when I saw, my Eyes with grief did flow,
Although her Soul I thought to Heaven did go.
And musing long, at last I chanc'd to see
A Gentleman which handsome seem'd to be.
He coming near, ask'd me who there did lie?
I said, 'Twas one for Love and Grief did die.
52
VVith trembling legs he to the Body went;
VVhich when he view'd, his blood fell from his face,
His Eyes were fix'd, and standing in one place.
At last kneel'd down, and thus did say,
No hope is left, Life's fled away.
Thou wandring Soul, where e're thou art,
Hear my Confession from my heart:
I lov'd thee better far than life,
Thought to be happy in a VVife:
But O Suspition; that false Thief,
Seiz'd on my Thoughts, ruling as Chief.
Suspition, Malice, Spight, commanded still,
To carry false Reports thy Ears to fill.
My jealousie did strive thee to torment,
And glad to hear when thou wast discontent:
I strove always my love for to disguise;
'Twas said I married was, when all were lies.
But Jealousie begets all actions base,
And in the Court of Honour hath no place.
Forgive me, Soul, where ever thou dost rest,
For, of all VVomen, I did love thee best.
Here I do offer up my life to thee,
Both dead, we in one Grave may buried be.
Swifter than Lightning, straight his Sword he drew,
Upon the Point himself he desperate threw;
And to his panting Breast made such dispatch,
That I no help could bring, no hold could catch:
Turning his pale and ghastly eyes to me,
Mix both our ashes in one Urn, said he.
With that he fell close by his Mistress side,
Embrac'd, and kist, and groan'd, and there he dy'd:
Which when I saw, I drest, my Clothes put on,
To celebrate their Funeral-Rites alone:
First, I did lay a heap of Cypress dry,
With striking Flints I made a fire thereby,
Laid both their Bodies thereupon to burn,
Which in short time did into ashes turn:
And being mixt, I took them thence away,
And digg'd a Grave those ashes in to lay:
Then did I gather Cockle-shells, though small,
With art I strove to build a Tomb withall;
Placing some on, others in even Lays,
Others join'd close, till I a Tomb did raise.
And afterwards I planted Myrtle green,
Where Turtle-Doves are daily building seen:
And there young Nightingals come every Spring;
To celebrate their Fames, do sit and sing.
Thou wandring Soul, where e're thou art,
Hear my Confession from my heart:
I lov'd thee better far than life,
Thought to be happy in a VVife:
But O Suspition; that false Thief,
Seiz'd on my Thoughts, ruling as Chief.
Suspition, Malice, Spight, commanded still,
To carry false Reports thy Ears to fill.
My jealousie did strive thee to torment,
And glad to hear when thou wast discontent:
I strove always my love for to disguise;
'Twas said I married was, when all were lies.
But Jealousie begets all actions base,
And in the Court of Honour hath no place.
Forgive me, Soul, where ever thou dost rest,
For, of all VVomen, I did love thee best.
Here I do offer up my life to thee,
Both dead, we in one Grave may buried be.
Swifter than Lightning, straight his Sword he drew,
Upon the Point himself he desperate threw;
And to his panting Breast made such dispatch,
That I no help could bring, no hold could catch:
53
Mix both our ashes in one Urn, said he.
With that he fell close by his Mistress side,
Embrac'd, and kist, and groan'd, and there he dy'd:
Which when I saw, I drest, my Clothes put on,
To celebrate their Funeral-Rites alone:
First, I did lay a heap of Cypress dry,
With striking Flints I made a fire thereby,
Laid both their Bodies thereupon to burn,
Which in short time did into ashes turn:
And being mixt, I took them thence away,
And digg'd a Grave those ashes in to lay:
Then did I gather Cockle-shells, though small,
With art I strove to build a Tomb withall;
Placing some on, others in even Lays,
Others join'd close, till I a Tomb did raise.
And afterwards I planted Myrtle green,
Where Turtle-Doves are daily building seen:
And there young Nightingals come every Spring;
To celebrate their Fames, do sit and sing.
| Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life | |