 | Argalvs and Parthenia |  |
The first Booke.
Within the limits of th'Arcadian land,
Whose gratefull bounty hath inricht the hand
Of many a Shepherd swaine, whose rurall Art
(Vntaught to gloze, or with a double heart
To vow dissembled loue) did build to Fame
Eternall Trophies of a pastorall name;
That sweet Arcadia; which, in antique dayes,
Was wont to warble out her well-tun'd layes
To all the world; and, with her oaten Reede,
Did sing her loue whilst her proud flocks did feed;
Arcadia, whose deserts did claime to be
As great a sharer in the Daphnean tree,
As his, whose louder Ænead proudly sings
Heroick conquests of victorious Kings;
There (if th'exuberance of a word may swell
So high, that Angels may be said, to dwell)
There dwelt that Virgin, that Arcadian glory,
Whose rare composure did abstract the story
Of true perfection, modellizing forth
The height of beauty, and admired worth;
Her name Parthenia; whose vnnam'd descent
Can serue but as a needlesse complement
To gild perfection: She shall boast, alone,
What bounteous Art, and Nature makes her owne.
Whose gratefull bounty hath inricht the hand
Of many a Shepherd swaine, whose rurall Art
(Vntaught to gloze, or with a double heart
To vow dissembled loue) did build to Fame
Eternall Trophies of a pastorall name;
That sweet Arcadia; which, in antique dayes,
Was wont to warble out her well-tun'd layes
To all the world; and, with her oaten Reede,
Did sing her loue whilst her proud flocks did feed;
Arcadia, whose deserts did claime to be
As great a sharer in the Daphnean tree,
As his, whose louder Ænead proudly sings
Heroick conquests of victorious Kings;
There (if th'exuberance of a word may swell
So high, that Angels may be said, to dwell)
There dwelt that Virgin, that Arcadian glory,
Whose rare composure did abstract the story
Of true perfection, modellizing forth
The height of beauty, and admired worth;
2
Can serue but as a needlesse complement
To gild perfection: She shall boast, alone,
What bounteous Art, and Nature makes her owne.
Her Mother was a Lady, whom deepe age
More fill'd with honour, then diseases; sage,
A modest Matron, strict, reseru'd, austere,
Sparing in speech, but liberall of her eare;
Fierce to her foes, and violent where she likes;
Wedded to what her owne opinion strikes;
Frequent in almes, and charitable deeds,
Of mighty spirit, constant to her beads,
Wisely suspitious; but what need we other
Then this? she was the rare Parthenia's mother;
That rare Parthenia, in whose heauenly eye
Sits maiden-mildnesse, mixt with Maiesty,
Whose secret power hath a double skill,
By frownes or smiles, to make aliue, or kill;
Her cheeks are like two bancks of fairest flowers,
Inricht with sweetnesse from the twilight showers,
Whereon those iarres which were so often bred,
Composed were, betwixt the white and red:
Her haire raught downe beneath her yuory knees,
As if that Nature, to so rare a piece,
Had meant a shadow, labouring to show
And boast the vtmost, that her hand could doe:
Like smallest flaxe appear'd her Nymph like haire,
But only flaxe was not so small, so faire:
Her lips like Rubies, and you'd thinke, within,
In stead of teeth, that orient Pearles had bin:
The whitenesse of her dainty neck, you know,
If euer you beheld the new-falne Snow;
Her Swan-like brests were like two little Spheares,
Wherein, each azure line in view appeares,
Which, were they obuious but to euery eye,
All liberall Arts would turne Astronomie;
Her slender wast, her lilly hands, her armes
I dare not set to view, because all charmes
Forbidden are: My bashfull Muse descends
No lower steppe: Here her Commission ends,
And by another vertue doth enioyne
My pen to treate perfection, more diuine:
The chast Diana, and her Virgin-crew
Was but a Type of one, that should ensue
In after ages, which we find exprest,
And here fulfill'd in chasts Parthenia's brest:
True vertue was the obiect of her will;
She could no ill, because she knew no ill;
Her thoughts were noble, and her words not lauish,
Yet free, but wisely waigh'd; more apt to rauish,
Then to entice; lesse beautify'd with art,
Then naturall sweetnesse: In her gentle heart
Iudgement transcended: from her milder brest
Passion was not exiled, but represt:
Her voyce excell'd; nay, had you heard her voyce
But warble forth, you might haue had the choyce,
To take her for some smooth-fac'd Cherubin,
Or else some glorious Angel, that had bin
A trebble sharer in th'eternall ioyes,
Such was her voyce, such was her heauenly voyce:
Merry, yet modest; witty, and yet wise;
Not apt to toy, and yet not too too nice;
Quick, but not rash; Courteous, and yet not common;
Not too familiar, and yet scorning no man:
In briefe, who would relate her prayses well,
Must first bethinke himselfe, what is t'excell.
More fill'd with honour, then diseases; sage,
A modest Matron, strict, reseru'd, austere,
Sparing in speech, but liberall of her eare;
Fierce to her foes, and violent where she likes;
Wedded to what her owne opinion strikes;
Frequent in almes, and charitable deeds,
Of mighty spirit, constant to her beads,
Wisely suspitious; but what need we other
Then this? she was the rare Parthenia's mother;
That rare Parthenia, in whose heauenly eye
Sits maiden-mildnesse, mixt with Maiesty,
Whose secret power hath a double skill,
By frownes or smiles, to make aliue, or kill;
Her cheeks are like two bancks of fairest flowers,
Inricht with sweetnesse from the twilight showers,
Whereon those iarres which were so often bred,
Composed were, betwixt the white and red:
Her haire raught downe beneath her yuory knees,
As if that Nature, to so rare a piece,
Had meant a shadow, labouring to show
And boast the vtmost, that her hand could doe:
Like smallest flaxe appear'd her Nymph like haire,
But only flaxe was not so small, so faire:
Her lips like Rubies, and you'd thinke, within,
In stead of teeth, that orient Pearles had bin:
The whitenesse of her dainty neck, you know,
If euer you beheld the new-falne Snow;
3
Wherein, each azure line in view appeares,
Which, were they obuious but to euery eye,
All liberall Arts would turne Astronomie;
Her slender wast, her lilly hands, her armes
I dare not set to view, because all charmes
Forbidden are: My bashfull Muse descends
No lower steppe: Here her Commission ends,
And by another vertue doth enioyne
My pen to treate perfection, more diuine:
The chast Diana, and her Virgin-crew
Was but a Type of one, that should ensue
In after ages, which we find exprest,
And here fulfill'd in chasts Parthenia's brest:
True vertue was the obiect of her will;
She could no ill, because she knew no ill;
Her thoughts were noble, and her words not lauish,
Yet free, but wisely waigh'd; more apt to rauish,
Then to entice; lesse beautify'd with art,
Then naturall sweetnesse: In her gentle heart
Iudgement transcended: from her milder brest
Passion was not exiled, but represt:
Her voyce excell'd; nay, had you heard her voyce
But warble forth, you might haue had the choyce,
To take her for some smooth-fac'd Cherubin,
Or else some glorious Angel, that had bin
A trebble sharer in th'eternall ioyes,
Such was her voyce, such was her heauenly voyce:
Merry, yet modest; witty, and yet wise;
Not apt to toy, and yet not too too nice;
Quick, but not rash; Courteous, and yet not common;
Not too familiar, and yet scorning no man:
4
Must first bethinke himselfe, what is t'excell.
When these perfections had enchaunc'd the name
Of rare Parthenia, nimble winged Fame
Grew great with honour, spreads her hasty wings,
Aduanc'd her Trumpet, and away she springs,
And with her full mouth'd blast she doth proclaime
Th'vnmated glory of Partheniaes name:
Who now but faire Parthenia? what report
Can find admittance in th'Arcadian Court
But faire Partheniaes? Euery solemne feast
Must now be sweetned, honourd, and possest
With high discourses of Partheniaes glory,
And euery mouth must breathe Partheniaes story.
The Poet summons now his amorous quill,
And scornes assistance from the sacred Hill:
The sweet lipt Oratour takes in hand to raise
His prouder stile, to speake Partheniaes praise.
The curious Painter wisely doth displace
Faire Venus, sets Parthenia in her place.
The Pleader burnes his bookes, disdaines the Law,
And falls in loue with whom his eyes ne'er saw.
Healths to the faire Parthenia flye about
At euery bord, whilst others, more deuout,
Build Idols to her, and adore the same;
And Parrats learne to prate Partheniaes name:
Some trust to fame; some secretly disprise
Her worth; some emulates, and some enuies;
Some doubt, some feare lest lauish fame belye her,
And all that dare beleeue report, admire.
Of rare Parthenia, nimble winged Fame
Grew great with honour, spreads her hasty wings,
Aduanc'd her Trumpet, and away she springs,
And with her full mouth'd blast she doth proclaime
Th'vnmated glory of Partheniaes name:
Who now but faire Parthenia? what report
Can find admittance in th'Arcadian Court
But faire Partheniaes? Euery solemne feast
Must now be sweetned, honourd, and possest
With high discourses of Partheniaes glory,
And euery mouth must breathe Partheniaes story.
The Poet summons now his amorous quill,
And scornes assistance from the sacred Hill:
The sweet lipt Oratour takes in hand to raise
His prouder stile, to speake Partheniaes praise.
The curious Painter wisely doth displace
Faire Venus, sets Parthenia in her place.
The Pleader burnes his bookes, disdaines the Law,
And falls in loue with whom his eyes ne'er saw.
Healths to the faire Parthenia flye about
At euery bord, whilst others, more deuout,
Build Idols to her, and adore the same;
And Parrats learne to prate Partheniaes name:
Some trust to fame; some secretly disprise
Her worth; some emulates, and some enuies;
Some doubt, some feare lest lauish fame belye her,
And all that dare beleeue report, admire.
Vpon the borders of the Arcadian Land
Dwelt a Laconian Lord; Of proud command,
Lord of much people, youthfull, and of fame,
More great then good; Demagoras his name,
Of stature tall, his body spare, and meager,
Thicke shoulderd, hollow cheek'd, and visage eager,
His gashfull countenance swarthy, long and thinne,
And downe each side of his reuerted chinne
A locke of blacke neglected haire (befriended
With warts too vgly to be seene) descended;
His rowling eyes were deeply suncke, and hiew'd
Like fire; Tis said, they blisterd where they view'd.
Vpon his shoulders, from his fruitfull crowne,
A rugged crop of Elfelocks dangled downe:
His hide all hairy; garish his attire,
And his complexion meerely Earth and Fire;
Peruerse to all; extenuating what
Another did, because he did it not:
Maligning all mens actions but his owne,
Not louing any, and belou'd of none:
Reuengefull, enuious, desperately stout,
And in a word, to paint him fully out,
That had the Monopolie to fulfill
All vice; the Hieroglyphick of all ill.
He view'd Partheniaes face: As from aboue
Fireballs of lightning hurld by angry Ioue
Confound the vnarm'd beholder at a blow,
And leaue him ruin'd in the place: Euen so
The peerelesse beauty of Partheniaes eyes,
At the first sight did conquer and surprise
The slauish thoughts of this amazed louer,
Who voyd of strength to hide, or to discouer
The tyrannous scorching of his secret fires,
Prompted by passion, with himselfe conspires.
Dwelt a Laconian Lord; Of proud command,
5
More great then good; Demagoras his name,
Of stature tall, his body spare, and meager,
Thicke shoulderd, hollow cheek'd, and visage eager,
His gashfull countenance swarthy, long and thinne,
And downe each side of his reuerted chinne
A locke of blacke neglected haire (befriended
With warts too vgly to be seene) descended;
His rowling eyes were deeply suncke, and hiew'd
Like fire; Tis said, they blisterd where they view'd.
Vpon his shoulders, from his fruitfull crowne,
A rugged crop of Elfelocks dangled downe:
His hide all hairy; garish his attire,
And his complexion meerely Earth and Fire;
Peruerse to all; extenuating what
Another did, because he did it not:
Maligning all mens actions but his owne,
Not louing any, and belou'd of none:
Reuengefull, enuious, desperately stout,
And in a word, to paint him fully out,
That had the Monopolie to fulfill
All vice; the Hieroglyphick of all ill.
He view'd Partheniaes face: As from aboue
Fireballs of lightning hurld by angry Ioue
Confound the vnarm'd beholder at a blow,
And leaue him ruin'd in the place: Euen so
The peerelesse beauty of Partheniaes eyes,
At the first sight did conquer and surprise
The slauish thoughts of this amazed louer,
Who voyd of strength to hide, or to discouer
The tyrannous scorching of his secret fires,
Prompted by passion, with himselfe conspires.
6
Accurs'd Demagoras! Into what a feuer
Hath one looke strucke thy soule? O neuer, neuer
To be recur'd: If I had done amisse,
Hath heauen no easier plagues in store, but this?
Promethius paines are not so sharpe as these,
Our sinnes yet labour'd both of one disease;
Our faults are equall; Both stole fire from heauen;
Our faults alike, why are our plagues vneuen?
Be iust; O make not such vnequall ods
Of equall sinnes: Be iust, or else no Gods:
Why send ye downe such Angels to the earth,
To mocke poore mortalls? or of mortall birth,
If such a heauenlike Paragon may be,
Why doe ye not wound her, as well as me
But why doe I implore your aydes in vaine,
That are the highest Agents in my paine?
Poore wretch! What hope of helpe can ye assure me,
When onely she, that made the wound can cure me?
Diuine Parthenia, earths vnuallued Iewell,
Would thou hadst beene lesse glorious or lesse cruell.
When first thine eyes did to these eyes appeare,
I read the history of my ruine there,
My necessary ruine: Heauen, nor Hell
Can salue my sores, by helpe of Prayer, or spell;
Gods are vniust; and if, with charmes,I haunt her,
Her eyes are countercharmes, to enchant th'inchanter:
Why doe I thus exulcerate my disease?
By adding torments, hope I to find ease?
Is not her cruelty enough, alone,
But must I bring fresh torments of my owne?
Cheare vp Demagoras: Tis a wise mans part
Not to lose all, if his vnpractis'd art
Serues not to gaine: A Gamester may not choose
His chance: It is some conquest not to loose:
Looke to thy selfe: Let no iniurious blast
Of cold despaire chill thy greene wounds too fast
For time to cure: O, hope for no remission
Of paine, till Cupid send thee a Physition.
She is a woman. If a woman, then
My title's good; Women were made for men:
She is a woman, though her heauenly brow
Write Angell, and may stoope, although not now;
Women, by lookes, will not be vnderstood,
Vntill their hearts aduise with flesh and blood.
She is a woman; There's no reason why,
But she (perchance) may burne as well as I.
Moue then, Demagoras, let Parthenia know
The strength of her owne beauty, in thy woe:
Feare not, what thou ador'st; begin to moue,
Chriscrosse fore-runs the Alphabet of loue:
Tis halfe perfected, what is once begun;
She is a woman; and she must be wonne.
Hath one looke strucke thy soule? O neuer, neuer
To be recur'd: If I had done amisse,
Hath heauen no easier plagues in store, but this?
Promethius paines are not so sharpe as these,
Our sinnes yet labour'd both of one disease;
Our faults are equall; Both stole fire from heauen;
Our faults alike, why are our plagues vneuen?
Be iust; O make not such vnequall ods
Of equall sinnes: Be iust, or else no Gods:
Why send ye downe such Angels to the earth,
To mocke poore mortalls? or of mortall birth,
If such a heauenlike Paragon may be,
Why doe ye not wound her, as well as me
But why doe I implore your aydes in vaine,
That are the highest Agents in my paine?
Poore wretch! What hope of helpe can ye assure me,
When onely she, that made the wound can cure me?
Diuine Parthenia, earths vnuallued Iewell,
Would thou hadst beene lesse glorious or lesse cruell.
When first thine eyes did to these eyes appeare,
I read the history of my ruine there,
My necessary ruine: Heauen, nor Hell
Can salue my sores, by helpe of Prayer, or spell;
Gods are vniust; and if, with charmes,I haunt her,
Her eyes are countercharmes, to enchant th'inchanter:
Why doe I thus exulcerate my disease?
By adding torments, hope I to find ease?
Is not her cruelty enough, alone,
But must I bring fresh torments of my owne?
Cheare vp Demagoras: Tis a wise mans part
Not to lose all, if his vnpractis'd art
7
His chance: It is some conquest not to loose:
Looke to thy selfe: Let no iniurious blast
Of cold despaire chill thy greene wounds too fast
For time to cure: O, hope for no remission
Of paine, till Cupid send thee a Physition.
She is a woman. If a woman, then
My title's good; Women were made for men:
She is a woman, though her heauenly brow
Write Angell, and may stoope, although not now;
Women, by lookes, will not be vnderstood,
Vntill their hearts aduise with flesh and blood.
She is a woman; There's no reason why,
But she (perchance) may burne as well as I.
Moue then, Demagoras, let Parthenia know
The strength of her owne beauty, in thy woe:
Feare not, what thou ador'st; begin to moue,
Chriscrosse fore-runs the Alphabet of loue:
Tis halfe perfected, what is once begun;
She is a woman; and she must be wonne.
Like as a Swaine, whose hands hate made a vow
And sworne allegeance to the peacefull plough,
Prest out for seruice in the Martiall campe,
At first (vnentred) finds a liuelesse dampe
Beleagring euery ioynt; as often swounds
As ere he viewes his sword, or thinks of wounds;
At length (not finding any meanes for flying,
Switcht and spurd on with desp'rate feare of dying)
He hewes, he hackes, and in the midst he goes,
And freshly deales about his frantick blowes;
Euen so Demagoras, whose vnbred fashion
Had neuer yet subscrib'd to loues sweet passion:
Being call'd a Combitant to Cupids field,
Trembles, and secretly resolues to yeeld
The day without a parly, till at length,
Fiercely transported by th'vntutor'd strength
Of his owne passion, he himselfe assures,
That desp'rate torments must haue desp'rate cures
And thus to the diuine Partheniaes eares
Applies his speech, deuoid of doubts and feares.
And sworne allegeance to the peacefull plough,
Prest out for seruice in the Martiall campe,
At first (vnentred) finds a liuelesse dampe
Beleagring euery ioynt; as often swounds
As ere he viewes his sword, or thinks of wounds;
At length (not finding any meanes for flying,
Switcht and spurd on with desp'rate feare of dying)
He hewes, he hackes, and in the midst he goes,
And freshly deales about his frantick blowes;
Euen so Demagoras, whose vnbred fashion
Had neuer yet subscrib'd to loues sweet passion:
8
Trembles, and secretly resolues to yeeld
The day without a parly, till at length,
Fiercely transported by th'vntutor'd strength
Of his owne passion, he himselfe assures,
That desp'rate torments must haue desp'rate cures
And thus to the diuine Partheniaes eares
Applies his speech, deuoid of doubts and feares.
Fairest of creatures, If my ruder tongue,
To right it selfe, should doe your patience wrong:
And lawlesse passion make it too too free,
O blame your heauenly beautie, and not me:
It was those eyes, those precious eyes that first
Enforc'd my tongue to speake, or heart to burst,
From those deare eyes I first receiu'd that wound,
Which seekes for cure, and cannot be made sound,
But by the hand that strucke; To you alone,
I sue for helpe, that else must hope for none:
Then crowne my ioyes, thou Antidote of despaire,
And be as mercifull, as thou art faire.
Nature, (the bounty of whose liberall hand
Made thee the iewell of the Arcadian land)
Intended in so rare a prize, to boast
Her masterpeece: Hid Iewells are but lost.
Shine then, and rob not nature of her due,
But honour her, as she hath honour'd you.
Let not the best of all her workes lye dead
In the nice Casket of a Maydenhead:
What she would haue reueal'd, O doe not smother,
Th'art made in vaine, vnlesse thou make another:
Giue me thy heart, and for that gift of thine,
Lest thou shouldst want a heart, Ile giue thee mine,
As richly fraught with loue, and lasting duty,
As thou, with vertue, or thine eyes, with beauty.
Why dost thou frowne? why does that heauenly brow
Not made for wrinkles, show a wrinkle now?
Send forth thy brighter sun-shine, and the while,
O lend me but the twilight of a smile:
Giue me one amorous glance: why standst thou mute?
Disclose those ruby lips, and grant my suite;
Speake (loue) or if thy doubtfull minde be bent
To silence, let that silence be consent:
Nor begge I loue of almes, although in part,
My words may seeme t'implead my owne desert.
Disdaine me not, although my thoughts descend
Below themselues, t'enioy so faire a friend:
I, that haue oft, with teares, bin sought to, sue;
And Queens haue bin his seruants, that serues you.
The beauties of all Greece haue bin at strife
To winne the name of great Demagoras wife,
And bin despis'd, not worthy to obtaine
So high an honour; What they sought (in vaine)
I here present thee with, as thine owne due,
It being an honour fit for none but you:
Speake then (my loue,) and let thy lips make knowne,
That I am either thine, or not mine owne:
To right it selfe, should doe your patience wrong:
And lawlesse passion make it too too free,
O blame your heauenly beautie, and not me:
It was those eyes, those precious eyes that first
Enforc'd my tongue to speake, or heart to burst,
From those deare eyes I first receiu'd that wound,
Which seekes for cure, and cannot be made sound,
But by the hand that strucke; To you alone,
I sue for helpe, that else must hope for none:
Then crowne my ioyes, thou Antidote of despaire,
And be as mercifull, as thou art faire.
Nature, (the bounty of whose liberall hand
Made thee the iewell of the Arcadian land)
Intended in so rare a prize, to boast
Her masterpeece: Hid Iewells are but lost.
Shine then, and rob not nature of her due,
But honour her, as she hath honour'd you.
Let not the best of all her workes lye dead
In the nice Casket of a Maydenhead:
What she would haue reueal'd, O doe not smother,
Th'art made in vaine, vnlesse thou make another:
Giue me thy heart, and for that gift of thine,
Lest thou shouldst want a heart, Ile giue thee mine,
9
As thou, with vertue, or thine eyes, with beauty.
Why dost thou frowne? why does that heauenly brow
Not made for wrinkles, show a wrinkle now?
Send forth thy brighter sun-shine, and the while,
O lend me but the twilight of a smile:
Giue me one amorous glance: why standst thou mute?
Disclose those ruby lips, and grant my suite;
Speake (loue) or if thy doubtfull minde be bent
To silence, let that silence be consent:
Nor begge I loue of almes, although in part,
My words may seeme t'implead my owne desert.
Disdaine me not, although my thoughts descend
Below themselues, t'enioy so faire a friend:
I, that haue oft, with teares, bin sought to, sue;
And Queens haue bin his seruants, that serues you.
The beauties of all Greece haue bin at strife
To winne the name of great Demagoras wife,
And bin despis'd, not worthy to obtaine
So high an honour; What they sought (in vaine)
I here present thee with, as thine owne due,
It being an honour fit for none but you:
Speake then (my loue,) and let thy lips make knowne,
That I am either thine, or not mine owne:
Haue you beheld when fresh Auroras eye
Sends forth her early beames, and by and by
Withdrawes the glory of her face, and shrowds
Her cheekes behind a ruddy maske of clouds,
Which, who beleeue in Erra Pater, say
Presages winde, and blustry stormes that day,
Such were Partheniaes lookes; in whose faire face,
Roses and Lillies, late had equall place.
But now, twixt mayden bashfulnesse and spleene,
Roses appear'd and Lillies were not seene:
She paus'd a while, till at the last she breakes
Her long kept angry silence, thus; and speakes,
Sends forth her early beames, and by and by
Withdrawes the glory of her face, and shrowds
Her cheekes behind a ruddy maske of clouds,
Which, who beleeue in Erra Pater, say
Presages winde, and blustry stormes that day,
Such were Partheniaes lookes; in whose faire face,
Roses and Lillies, late had equall place.
10
Roses appear'd and Lillies were not seene:
She paus'd a while, till at the last she breakes
Her long kept angry silence, thus; and speakes,
My Lord,
Had your strong Oratory but the Art,To make me conscious of so great desert,
As you perswade, I should be bound in duty
To praise your Rhet'ricke, as you prize my beauty;
Or if the frailty of my iudgement could
Flatter my thoughts so grosly, as to hold
Your words for currant, you might boldly dare
Count me as foolish, as you terme me faire.
If you vye Courtship, fortune knowes that I
Haue not so strong a Game, to see the vye:
Alas, my skill durst neuer vndertake
To play the game, where hearts be set at stake;
Needs must the losse be great, when such haue bin
Seldome obseru'd to saue themselues that win:
You craue my heart; My Lord, you craue withall,
Too great a mischiefe; My poore heart's too small
To fill the concaue of so great a brest,
Whose thoughts can scorne the amorous request
Of loue sicke Queenes, and can requite the vaine,
And factious suits of Ladies with disdaine:
Stoope not so low beneath your selfe (great Lord)
To loue Parthenia: Shall so poore a word
Staine your faire lips? whose merits doe proclaime
A more transcendent fortune, then that name
Can giue: Call downe Ioues winged Pursuiuant,
And giue his tongue the power to enchant
11
A mariage fitting so sublime, so great
A mind as yours, and fill the fruitfull earth
With Heroes, sprung from so diuine a birth:
Partheniaes heart could neuer yet aspire
So high: Her homebred thoughts durst ne're desire
So fond an honour, matcht with so great pride,
To hope for that, which Queenes haue beene denyde.
Be wise, my Lord; vouchsafe not to repeat
S'vnfit a suit; Be wise, as you are great:
Aduance your noble thoughts: hazard no more
To wrack your fortunes on so fleet a shore,
That, to the wiser world, it may be knowne
The lesse y'are mine, the more you are your owne.
Like as a guilty prisner, vpon whom
Offended Iustice lately past her doome,
Stands trembling by, and, hopelesse to preuaile,
Baules not for mercy, but to the loath'd Iaile
Dragges his sad yrons, and from thence commends
A hasty suite to his selected friends,
That by the vertue of a quicke Reprieue
The wretch might haue some few daies more to liue.
Euen so Demagoras, whose rewounded heart
Had newly felt the vnexpected smart
And secret burthen of a desp'rate doome,
Replies not, takes no leaue, but quits the roome,
And, in his discontented mind, reuolues
Ten thousand thoughts; and at the last resolues
What course to runne, relying on no other,
But the assistance of Partheniaes mother.
Forthwith his fierce misguided passion droue
His wandring steps to the next neighboring groue.
A keene Steeletto in his trembling hand
He rudely grip'd, vpon his lips did stand
A milke white froth; his eyes like flames; sometimes
He curses heauen; himselfe; and then, the times;
Railes at the proud Parthenia; raues; despaires;
And from his head rends off his tangled hayres;
Curses the wombe that bare him; bans the Fates;
And drunke with spleene, he thus deliberates,
Offended Iustice lately past her doome,
Stands trembling by, and, hopelesse to preuaile,
Baules not for mercy, but to the loath'd Iaile
Dragges his sad yrons, and from thence commends
A hasty suite to his selected friends,
That by the vertue of a quicke Reprieue
The wretch might haue some few daies more to liue.
Euen so Demagoras, whose rewounded heart
Had newly felt the vnexpected smart
And secret burthen of a desp'rate doome,
Replies not, takes no leaue, but quits the roome,
And, in his discontented mind, reuolues
Ten thousand thoughts; and at the last resolues
What course to runne, relying on no other,
But the assistance of Partheniaes mother.
Forthwith his fierce misguided passion droue
His wandring steps to the next neighboring groue.
12
He rudely grip'd, vpon his lips did stand
A milke white froth; his eyes like flames; sometimes
He curses heauen; himselfe; and then, the times;
Railes at the proud Parthenia; raues; despaires;
And from his head rends off his tangled hayres;
Curses the wombe that bare him; bans the Fates;
And drunke with spleene, he thus deliberates,
Why dyest thou not, Demagoras, when as death
Lends thee a weapon? Can the whining breath
Of discontent and passion send reliefe
To thy distraction, or asswage thy griefe?
Why moou'st thou not the Gods? Or rather, why
Do'st not contemne, and scorne their power, and dye?
But stay! Of whom dost thou complaine? A woman.
To whom (fond man) dost thou complaine? A woman.
And shall a womans frownes haue power to grieue thee?
Or shall a womans wanton smile relieue thee?
Fye, fie, Demagoras, shall a womans eye
Preuaile, to make the stout Demagoras dye,
And leaue to after-times an entred name
Ith Callender of fooles? Rouze vp for shame
Thy wasted spirits: whet thy spleene and liue
To be reueng'd: She, she that would not giue
Admittance to thy proferd loue must drinke
The potion of thy hate: stirre then the sinke
Of all thy passion; where thou canst not gaine
By fairer lauguage, Tarquin-like constraine.
But hold thy hand, Demagoras, and aduise;
Art giues aduantage oft, where force denyes;
Suspend thy fury: Make Partheniaes mother
Thy meanes: One Adamant will cut another:
Sweeten thy lips with amorous Oratorie;
Affect her tender heart, with the sad story
Of thy deare loue; Extoll Partheniaes beauty;
But most of all, vrge that deserued duty
Thou ow'st her vertue, and make that the ground
Of thy first loue, that gaue thy heart the wound:
Mingle thy words with sighes; and it is meet,
If thou canst force a teare, to let her see't
Against thy will: Let thy false tongue forbeare
No vowes, and though thou beest forsworne, yet sweare:
If ere thy barren lips shall chance to pause,
For want of words; Parthenia is the cause,
Who hath benumm'd thy heart; If e're they goe
Beyond their lists, Parthenia made them so.
Withall; be sure, when ere thou shalt aduance
The daughters vertues, let the glory glance
Vpon the prudent mother; Women care not
To heare too much of vertue, if they share not.
When thus thou hast prepar'd her melting eare
To soft attention; closely, in the reare
Of thy discourse, preferre thy sad petition,
That she would please to fauour the condition
Of a distressed louer, and afford
In thy behalfe, a mothers timely word;
So shalt thou wreck thy vengeance by a wilde,
And make the mother bawd to her owne childe.
Lends thee a weapon? Can the whining breath
Of discontent and passion send reliefe
To thy distraction, or asswage thy griefe?
Why moou'st thou not the Gods? Or rather, why
Do'st not contemne, and scorne their power, and dye?
But stay! Of whom dost thou complaine? A woman.
To whom (fond man) dost thou complaine? A woman.
And shall a womans frownes haue power to grieue thee?
Or shall a womans wanton smile relieue thee?
Fye, fie, Demagoras, shall a womans eye
Preuaile, to make the stout Demagoras dye,
And leaue to after-times an entred name
Ith Callender of fooles? Rouze vp for shame
Thy wasted spirits: whet thy spleene and liue
To be reueng'd: She, she that would not giue
Admittance to thy proferd loue must drinke
The potion of thy hate: stirre then the sinke
Of all thy passion; where thou canst not gaine
By fairer lauguage, Tarquin-like constraine.
But hold thy hand, Demagoras, and aduise;
Art giues aduantage oft, where force denyes;
Suspend thy fury: Make Partheniaes mother
Thy meanes: One Adamant will cut another:
13
Affect her tender heart, with the sad story
Of thy deare loue; Extoll Partheniaes beauty;
But most of all, vrge that deserued duty
Thou ow'st her vertue, and make that the ground
Of thy first loue, that gaue thy heart the wound:
Mingle thy words with sighes; and it is meet,
If thou canst force a teare, to let her see't
Against thy will: Let thy false tongue forbeare
No vowes, and though thou beest forsworne, yet sweare:
If ere thy barren lips shall chance to pause,
For want of words; Parthenia is the cause,
Who hath benumm'd thy heart; If e're they goe
Beyond their lists, Parthenia made them so.
Withall; be sure, when ere thou shalt aduance
The daughters vertues, let the glory glance
Vpon the prudent mother; Women care not
To heare too much of vertue, if they share not.
When thus thou hast prepar'd her melting eare
To soft attention; closely, in the reare
Of thy discourse, preferre thy sad petition,
That she would please to fauour the condition
Of a distressed louer, and afford
In thy behalfe, a mothers timely word;
So shalt thou wreck thy vengeance by a wilde,
And make the mother bawd to her owne childe.
He paused not; but like a rash proiector
(Whose franticke passion was supreme director)
Fixt his first thoughts, impatient of the second
Which might bin betterd by aduise, and reckon'd
All time but lost, which he bestowed not
On th'execution of his hopefull plot;
Forthwith his nimble paces he diuided
Towards the Summer Pallace, where resided
The faire Partheniaes mother, boldly enters,
And after mutuall complement, aduenters
To breake the yce of his dissembled griefe;
Thus he complaines, and thus he begs reliefe.
(Whose franticke passion was supreme director)
Fixt his first thoughts, impatient of the second
Which might bin betterd by aduise, and reckon'd
All time but lost, which he bestowed not
On th'execution of his hopefull plot;
14
Towards the Summer Pallace, where resided
The faire Partheniaes mother, boldly enters,
And after mutuall complement, aduenters
To breake the yce of his dissembled griefe;
Thus he complaines, and thus he begs reliefe.
Madam,
The hopefull thriuing of my suit dependsVpon your goodnesse, and it recommends
It selfe vnto your fauour, from whose hand
It must haue sentence, or to fall, or stand;
Thirce three times hath the Soueraigne of the night,
Repaird her empty hornes with borrowed light,
Since these sad eyes, these beauty blasted eyes
Were stricken by a light, that did arise
From your blest wombe, whose vnasswaged smart
Hath peirc'd my soule, and wounded my poore heart;
It is the faire Parthenia, whose diuine
And glorious vertue led these eyes of mine
To their owne ruine; Like a wanton fly,
I dallied wit the flames of her bright eye,
Till I haue burn'd my wings: O, if to loue
Be held a sinne, the guilty gods aboue
(Being fellow-sinners with vs, and commit
The selfe same crimes) may eas'ly pardon it.
O thrice diuine Parthenia, that hast got
A sacred priuiledge which the gods haue not,
If thou hast doom'd that I shall be bereauen
Of my loath'd life, yet let me dye forgiuen:
And welcome death, that with one happy blow
Giues me more ease, then life could euer doe.
15
But you? Alas, to whom should I reueale
My dying thoughts, but vnto you, that gaue
Being to her, that hath the power to saue
My wasted life? The language of a mother
Moues more then teares, that trickle from another.
With that a well dissembled drop did slide
From his false eyes. The Lady thus replyde.
My Honorable Lord,
If my vntimely answer hath preuentedSome further words your passion would haue vented,
Pardon my haste; which, in a ruder fashion
Sought onely to diuide you, from your passion:
The loue you beare Parthenia must claime
The priuiledge of mine eare, and in her name,
(Though from an absent mind as yet vnknowne)
Returne I thankes, with intrest of my owne.
The little iudgement, that the gods haue lent
Her downy yeares (though in a small extent)
Does challenge the whole freedome of her choyce,
In the resignement of a mothers voice:
The sprightly fancies of a virgins mind
Enter themselues, and hate to be confinde;
The hidden Embers of a louers fire
Desire no bellowes, but their owne desire,
And like to Dedalus his forge, if blowne
Burnes dimme and dyes; blazes, if let alone;
Louers affect, without aduisement, that
Which being most perswaded to, they hate.
My Lord, adiourne your passion, and refer
The fortune of your suite to time, and her.
16
The Saile his fancy is; A storme of winde,
His vncontrouled passion; the Stear's
His reason; Rocks and Sands, are doubts and feares;
Your storme being great, like a wise Pilot, beare
But little Saile, and stoutly ply the Steare.
Leaue then the violence of your thoughts to me,
My Lord, too hasty Gamesters ouersee.
Goe, moue Parthenia, and let Iuno's blessing
Attend your hopefull suite, in the suppressing
Loues common euills; and if her warme desire
Show but a sparke, leaue me to blow the fire.
Goe, lose no time: Louers must be laborious;
My Lord goe prosperous, and returne victorious.
With that Demagoras (prostrate on the ground,
As if his eares had heard that blessed sound,
Wherewith the Delphian oracle acquites
The accepted sacrifice) performes the rites
Of quicke deuotion, to that heauenly voice,
Which fed his soule with the malignant ioyes
Of vow'd reuenge; vp, from the floore he starts,
Blesses the tongue that blest him; and departs.
As if his eares had heard that blessed sound,
Wherewith the Delphian oracle acquites
The accepted sacrifice) performes the rites
Of quicke deuotion, to that heauenly voice,
Which fed his soule with the malignant ioyes
Of vow'd reuenge; vp, from the floore he starts,
Blesses the tongue that blest him; and departs.
By this time, had the heauen-surrounding Steeds
Quell'd their proud courage, turn'd their fainting head
Into the lower Hemispheare, to coole
Their flaming nostrills in the Westerne poole,
When as the dainty and mollitious ayre
Had bid the Lady of the Pallace, share
In her refined pleasures, and inuited
Her gentle steps, fully to be delighted
In those sweet walkes, where Flora's liberall hand
Had giuen more freely, then to all the land;
There walked she; and in her various minde,
Proiects and casts about which way to finde
The progresse of the yong Partheniaes heart;
Likes this way: then a second thought does thwart
The first; Likes that way; then a third, the second:
One while she likes the match, and then she reckon'd
Demagoras vertues: now her feare entices
Her thoughts to alter; then she counts his vices:
Sometimes she cals his vowes and oathes to minde:
Another while, thinkes oathes and words but winde.
She likes, dislikes; Her doubtfull thoughts doe vary,
Resolues, and then resolues the quite contrary.
One while she feares, that his maligne aspect
Will giue the virgin cause to disaffect:
And then, propounds to her ambitious thoughts
His wealth, the golden couer of all faults:
And, from the Chaos of her doubt, digests
Her feares; creates a world of wealth, and rests.
With that, she straight vnfixt her fastned eyes
From off the ground; and, looking vp, espyes
The faire Parthenia, in a louely bowre,
Spending the treasure of an euening houre:
There sate she, reading the sweet-sad discourses
Of Charicleas loue: the entercourses
Of whose mixt fortunes taught her tender heart
To feele the selfe same ioy, the selfe same smart:
She read, she wept; and, as she wept, she smil'd,
As if her equall eyes had reconcilde
The extremes of ioy and griefe: she closde the booke,
Then op'ned it, and with a milder looke,
She pities louers; musing then a while,
She teaches smiles to weepe; and teares, to smile:
At length, her broken thoughts she thus discouers.
Quell'd their proud courage, turn'd their fainting head
Into the lower Hemispheare, to coole
Their flaming nostrills in the Westerne poole,
When as the dainty and mollitious ayre
Had bid the Lady of the Pallace, share
In her refined pleasures, and inuited
Her gentle steps, fully to be delighted
In those sweet walkes, where Flora's liberall hand
Had giuen more freely, then to all the land;
17
Proiects and casts about which way to finde
The progresse of the yong Partheniaes heart;
Likes this way: then a second thought does thwart
The first; Likes that way; then a third, the second:
One while she likes the match, and then she reckon'd
Demagoras vertues: now her feare entices
Her thoughts to alter; then she counts his vices:
Sometimes she cals his vowes and oathes to minde:
Another while, thinkes oathes and words but winde.
She likes, dislikes; Her doubtfull thoughts doe vary,
Resolues, and then resolues the quite contrary.
One while she feares, that his maligne aspect
Will giue the virgin cause to disaffect:
And then, propounds to her ambitious thoughts
His wealth, the golden couer of all faults:
And, from the Chaos of her doubt, digests
Her feares; creates a world of wealth, and rests.
With that, she straight vnfixt her fastned eyes
From off the ground; and, looking vp, espyes
The faire Parthenia, in a louely bowre,
Spending the treasure of an euening houre:
There sate she, reading the sweet-sad discourses
Of Charicleas loue: the entercourses
Of whose mixt fortunes taught her tender heart
To feele the selfe same ioy, the selfe same smart:
She read, she wept; and, as she wept, she smil'd,
As if her equall eyes had reconcilde
The extremes of ioy and griefe: she closde the booke,
Then op'ned it, and with a milder looke,
She pities louers; musing then a while,
She teaches smiles to weepe; and teares, to smile:
18
Vnconstant state of poore distressed louers!
Is all extreame in loue? No meane at all?
No draughts indifferent? either honey or Gall?
Hath Cupids Vniuerse no temp'rate Zone,
Either a torrid or a frozen one?
Alas, alas, poore louers. As she spake
Is all extreame in loue? No meane at all?
No draughts indifferent? either honey or Gall?
Hath Cupids Vniuerse no temp'rate Zone,
Either a torrid or a frozen one?
Alas, alas, poore louers. As she spake
Those words, from her disclosed lips there brake
A gentle sigh; and after that, another:
With that steps in her vnexpected mother.
Haue ye beheld, when Titans lustfull head
Hath newly diu'd into the seagreene bed
Of Thetis, how the bashfull Horizone.
(Enforc'd to see what should be seene by none)
Lookes red for shame; and blushes to discouer
Th'incestuous pleasures of the heauen borne louer?
So look'd Parthenia, when the sudden eye
Of her vnwelcome mother did descry
Her secret passion: The mothers smile
Brought forth the daughters blush; and leuell coyle
They smil'd and blush; one smile begate another:
The daughter blusht, because the iealous mother
Smil'd on her; and the silent mother smilde,
To see the conscious blushing of her childe,
At length, growne great with words, she did awake
Her forced silence, and she thus bespake.
A gentle sigh; and after that, another:
With that steps in her vnexpected mother.
Haue ye beheld, when Titans lustfull head
Hath newly diu'd into the seagreene bed
Of Thetis, how the bashfull Horizone.
(Enforc'd to see what should be seene by none)
Lookes red for shame; and blushes to discouer
Th'incestuous pleasures of the heauen borne louer?
So look'd Parthenia, when the sudden eye
Of her vnwelcome mother did descry
Her secret passion: The mothers smile
Brought forth the daughters blush; and leuell coyle
They smil'd and blush; one smile begate another:
The daughter blusht, because the iealous mother
Smil'd on her; and the silent mother smilde,
To see the conscious blushing of her childe,
At length, growne great with words, she did awake
Her forced silence, and she thus bespake.
Blush not, my fairest daughter; Tis no shame
To pitty louers, or lament that flame,
Which worth and beauty kindles in the brest:
Tis charity to succour the distrest.
The disposition of a generous heart
Makes euery griefe her owne, at least beares part.
What marble, ah what adamantine eare
Ere heard the flames of Troy, without a teare?
Much more the scorching of a louers fire,
(Whose desprate fewell is his owne desire)
May boldly challenge euery gentle heart.
To be iointenants in his secret smart:
Why dost thou blush? why did those pearly teares
Slide downe? Feare not: this Arbour hath no eares;
Here's none but we; speake then: It is no shame
To shed a teare; thy mother did the same:
Say; hath the winged wanton, with his dart,
Sent ere a message to thy wounded heart?
Speake, in the name of Hymen I coniure thee;
If so, I haue a Baulsome shall recure thee:
I feare, I feare, the yong Laconian Lord
Hath lately left some indigested word
In thy cold stomack: which, for want of Art
I doubt, I doubt, lyes heauy at thy heart:
If that be all, reuealing brings reliefe:
Silence in loue but multiplies a griefe:
Hid sorrow's desperate, not to be endur'd,
Which being but disclos'd, is easly cur'd:
Perchance, thou lou'st Demagoras; and wouldst smother
Thy close affection from thy angry mother,
And reape the dainty fruits of loue, vnseene;
I did the like, or thou hadst neuer beene;
Stolne goods are sweetest: If it be thy minde
To loue in secret, I will be as blinde
As he that wounded thee; or if thou dare
Acquaint thy mother, then a mothers care
Shall be redoubled, till thy thoughts acquire
The sweet fruition of thy choice desire:
Thou lou'st Demagoras; If thy lips deny,
Thy conscious heart must giue thy lips the lye:
And if thy liking countermand my will,
Thy punishment shall be to loue him still:
Then loue him still, and let his hopes inherit
The crowne, belonging to so faire a merit,
His thoughts are noble, and his fame appeares
To speake, at least, an age aboue his yeares.
The blood of his increasing honour springs
From the high stock of the Arcadian Kings:
The gods haue blest him with a liberall hand,
Enricht him with the prime of all the land:
Honour and wealth attend his gates, and what
Can he command, that he possesses not?
All which, and more, (if mothers can diuine)
The fortune of thy beauty hath made thine:
He is thy Captiue, and thy conquering eyes
Haue tooke him prisner: hee submits, and lies
At thy deare mercie, hoping ne're to be
Ransom'd from death, by any price, but thee.
Wrong not thy selfe in being too too nice,
And what (perchance) may not be proferd twise,
Accept at first: It is a foolish minde
To be too coy: Occasion's bald behind:
Tis not the common worke of euery day,
T'afford such offers: Take them while you may:
Times alter: youth and beauty are but blasts;
Vse then thy time, whil'st youth and beauty lasts:
For if that loath'd and infamous reproach
Of a stale maide, but offer to incroach
Vpon opinion; th'art in estimation,
Like garments, kept till they be out of fashion:
Thy worth, thy wit, thy vertues all must stand
Like goods at outcries, priz'd at second hand.
Resolue thee then, t'enlarge thy Virgin life,
With th'onourable freedome of a wife,
And let the fruits of that blest marriage be
A liuing pledge betwixt my Child and me.
To pitty louers, or lament that flame,
Which worth and beauty kindles in the brest:
Tis charity to succour the distrest.
The disposition of a generous heart
Makes euery griefe her owne, at least beares part.
19
Ere heard the flames of Troy, without a teare?
Much more the scorching of a louers fire,
(Whose desprate fewell is his owne desire)
May boldly challenge euery gentle heart.
To be iointenants in his secret smart:
Why dost thou blush? why did those pearly teares
Slide downe? Feare not: this Arbour hath no eares;
Here's none but we; speake then: It is no shame
To shed a teare; thy mother did the same:
Say; hath the winged wanton, with his dart,
Sent ere a message to thy wounded heart?
Speake, in the name of Hymen I coniure thee;
If so, I haue a Baulsome shall recure thee:
I feare, I feare, the yong Laconian Lord
Hath lately left some indigested word
In thy cold stomack: which, for want of Art
I doubt, I doubt, lyes heauy at thy heart:
If that be all, reuealing brings reliefe:
Silence in loue but multiplies a griefe:
Hid sorrow's desperate, not to be endur'd,
Which being but disclos'd, is easly cur'd:
Perchance, thou lou'st Demagoras; and wouldst smother
Thy close affection from thy angry mother,
And reape the dainty fruits of loue, vnseene;
I did the like, or thou hadst neuer beene;
Stolne goods are sweetest: If it be thy minde
To loue in secret, I will be as blinde
As he that wounded thee; or if thou dare
Acquaint thy mother, then a mothers care
Shall be redoubled, till thy thoughts acquire
The sweet fruition of thy choice desire:
20
Thy conscious heart must giue thy lips the lye:
And if thy liking countermand my will,
Thy punishment shall be to loue him still:
Then loue him still, and let his hopes inherit
The crowne, belonging to so faire a merit,
His thoughts are noble, and his fame appeares
To speake, at least, an age aboue his yeares.
The blood of his increasing honour springs
From the high stock of the Arcadian Kings:
The gods haue blest him with a liberall hand,
Enricht him with the prime of all the land:
Honour and wealth attend his gates, and what
Can he command, that he possesses not?
All which, and more, (if mothers can diuine)
The fortune of thy beauty hath made thine:
He is thy Captiue, and thy conquering eyes
Haue tooke him prisner: hee submits, and lies
At thy deare mercie, hoping ne're to be
Ransom'd from death, by any price, but thee.
Wrong not thy selfe in being too too nice,
And what (perchance) may not be proferd twise,
Accept at first: It is a foolish minde
To be too coy: Occasion's bald behind:
Tis not the common worke of euery day,
T'afford such offers: Take them while you may:
Times alter: youth and beauty are but blasts;
Vse then thy time, whil'st youth and beauty lasts:
For if that loath'd and infamous reproach
Of a stale maide, but offer to incroach
Vpon opinion; th'art in estimation,
Like garments, kept till they be out of fashion:
21
Like goods at outcries, priz'd at second hand.
Resolue thee then, t'enlarge thy Virgin life,
With th'onourable freedome of a wife,
And let the fruits of that blest marriage be
A liuing pledge betwixt my Child and me.
So said; The faire Parthenia (in whose heart
Her owne affections yet had got the start
Of her obedience) makes a sudden pause,
Striues with her thoughts, obiects the binding lawes
Of filiall duty, to her best affection;
Sometimes submits vnto her owne election,
Sometimes vnto her mothers: thus diuided
In her distracted fancy, sometimes guided
By one desire, and sometimes by another,
She thus replide to her attentiue mother.
Her owne affections yet had got the start
Of her obedience) makes a sudden pause,
Striues with her thoughts, obiects the binding lawes
Of filiall duty, to her best affection;
Sometimes submits vnto her owne election,
Sometimes vnto her mothers: thus diuided
In her distracted fancy, sometimes guided
By one desire, and sometimes by another,
She thus replide to her attentiue mother.
Madam,
Thinke not Parthenia, vnder a pretenceOf silence, studies disobedience:
Or by the crafty slownesse of reply,
Borrowes a quick aduantage to deny:
It lyes not in your power, to command
Beyond my will: vnto your tender hand,
I here surrender vp that little All
You gaue me, freely to dispose withall.
The gods forbid, Parthenia should resist
What you command, command you what you list:
But pardon me, the young Laconian Lord
Hath made assault, but neuer yet could board
This heart of mine: I wept, I wept indeed,
But my misconsterd streames did ne're proceed
22
Whose griefes I wept; I wept not for mine owne;
My lowly thoughts durst neuer yet aspire
The least degree, towards the proud desire
Of so great honour, to be call'd his wife,
For whom, ambitious Queenes haue bin at strife;
He su'd for loue, and strongly did importune
My heart, more pleased with a meaner fortune;
My brest was marble, and my heart forgot
All pitty; for, indeed, I lou'd him not;
But Madam; you, to whose more wise directions
I bend the stoutest of my rash affections,
You haue commanded, and your will shall be
The square to my uneauen desires, and me;
I'le practise duty, and my deeds shall show it;
I'le practise loue, though Cupid neuer know it.
When great Basilius (he whose princely hand
Nourisht long peace in the Arcadian land)
With triumph, brought to his renowned Court,
His new espoused Queene, was great resort
Of forraine States, and Princes, to behold
The truth, that vnbeleeu'd report had told
Of faire Gynecias worth: Thither repair'd
The Cyprian Nobles, richly all prepar'd
In warlike furniture, and well addrest,
With solemne Iousts to glorifie the feast
Of mariage royall, lately past betweene
Th'Arcadian King, and his thrice noble Queene,
The faire Gynecia; in whose face and brest
Nature, and curious Art had done their best,
To summe that rare perfection, which (in briefe)
Transcends the power of a strong beliefe;
Her Syer was the Cyprian King, whose fame
Receiu'd more honour from her honour'd name,
Then, if he had, with his victorious hand,
Vnsceptred halfe the Princes in the land:
To tell the glory of this royall Feast;
The Bridegroomes state, and how the Bride was drest;
The princely seruice, and the rare delights;
The seuerall names and worth, of Lords and Knights;
Their quaint Impresa's, their deuisefull showes;
Their martiall sports, their oft redoubled blowes;
The courage of this Lord, or that proud horse;
Who ran; who got the better, who, the worse,
Is not my taske; nor lyes it in my way,
To make relation of it: Heraulds may:
Yet Fame and honour hath selected one,
From that illustrious crew; and him alone
Haue recommended to my carefull quill,
Forbidding that his honour should lye still
Among the rest, whom fortune and his spirit,
That day, had crowned with a victors merit,
His name was Argalus; In Cyprus borne;
And (if what is not ours, may adorne
Our proper fortunes) his blood royall springs
From th'ancient stocke of the great Cyprian Kings:
His outside had enough to satisfie
The expectation of a curious eye:
Nature was too too prodigall of her beauty,
To make him halfe so faire, whom Fame, and duty
He ought to Honour, call'd so often forth,
T'approue the exc'lence of his manly worth:
His minde was richly furnisht with the treasure
Of morall knowledge, in so liberall measure,
Not to be proud: So valiant, and so strong
Of noble courage, not to dare a wrong:
Friendly to all men, inward but with few;
Fast to his old friends, and vnapt for new:
Lord of his word, and master of his passion,
Serious in buisnesse, choyce in recreation:
Not too mistrustfull, and yet wisely wary;
Hard to resolue, and then as hard to vary:
And to conclude, the world could hardly finde
So rare a body with so rare a minde.
Nourisht long peace in the Arcadian land)
With triumph, brought to his renowned Court,
His new espoused Queene, was great resort
Of forraine States, and Princes, to behold
The truth, that vnbeleeu'd report had told
Of faire Gynecias worth: Thither repair'd
The Cyprian Nobles, richly all prepar'd
In warlike furniture, and well addrest,
With solemne Iousts to glorifie the feast
Of mariage royall, lately past betweene
Th'Arcadian King, and his thrice noble Queene,
The faire Gynecia; in whose face and brest
Nature, and curious Art had done their best,
To summe that rare perfection, which (in briefe)
Transcends the power of a strong beliefe;
23
Receiu'd more honour from her honour'd name,
Then, if he had, with his victorious hand,
Vnsceptred halfe the Princes in the land:
To tell the glory of this royall Feast;
The Bridegroomes state, and how the Bride was drest;
The princely seruice, and the rare delights;
The seuerall names and worth, of Lords and Knights;
Their quaint Impresa's, their deuisefull showes;
Their martiall sports, their oft redoubled blowes;
The courage of this Lord, or that proud horse;
Who ran; who got the better, who, the worse,
Is not my taske; nor lyes it in my way,
To make relation of it: Heraulds may:
Yet Fame and honour hath selected one,
From that illustrious crew; and him alone
Haue recommended to my carefull quill,
Forbidding that his honour should lye still
Among the rest, whom fortune and his spirit,
That day, had crowned with a victors merit,
His name was Argalus; In Cyprus borne;
And (if what is not ours, may adorne
Our proper fortunes) his blood royall springs
From th'ancient stocke of the great Cyprian Kings:
His outside had enough to satisfie
The expectation of a curious eye:
Nature was too too prodigall of her beauty,
To make him halfe so faire, whom Fame, and duty
He ought to Honour, call'd so often forth,
T'approue the exc'lence of his manly worth:
His minde was richly furnisht with the treasure
Of morall knowledge, in so liberall measure,
24
Of noble courage, not to dare a wrong:
Friendly to all men, inward but with few;
Fast to his old friends, and vnapt for new:
Lord of his word, and master of his passion,
Serious in buisnesse, choyce in recreation:
Not too mistrustfull, and yet wisely wary;
Hard to resolue, and then as hard to vary:
And to conclude, the world could hardly finde
So rare a body with so rare a minde.
Thrice had the bright surueyour of the heauen
Diuided out the dayes and nights by euen
And equall houres, since this child of fame
(Inuited by the glory of her name,)
First view'd Partheniaes face, whose mutuall eye
Shot equall flames, and with the secret tie
Of vndisclos'd affection, ioyn'd together
Their yeelding hearts, their loues vnknown to either,
Both dearly lou'd: the more they stroue to hide
Their loue, affection they the more descride.
It lyes beyond the power of art to smother
Affection, where one vertue finds another:
One was their thoughts, and their desires one,
And yet both lou'd, vnknowne; beloued, vnknowne:
One was the Dart, that at the selfe same time
Was sent, that wounded her, that wounded him:
Both hop'd, both fear'd alike, both ioy'd, both grieu'd;
Yet, where they both could helpe, was none relieu'd:
Two lou'd, and two beloued were; yet none
But two in all, and yet that all but one.
By this time had their barren lippes betraid
Their timorous silence; now they had displaid
Loues sanguine colours, whilst the winged Child
Sate in a tree, and clapt his hands, and smil'd
To see the combat of two wounded friends:
He strikes and wounds himselfe, while she defends
That would be wounded, for her paine proceeds,
And flowes from his, and from his wound, she bleeds;
She playes at him, and ayming at his breast,
Pierc'd her owne heart: and when his hand addrest
The blow to her faire bosome, there it found
His owne deare heart, and gaue that heart the wound:
At length both conquer'd and yet both did yeeld,
Both lost the day, and yet both wan the field:
And as the warfare of their tongues did cease,
Their lips gaue earnest of a ioyfull peace.
Diuided out the dayes and nights by euen
And equall houres, since this child of fame
(Inuited by the glory of her name,)
First view'd Partheniaes face, whose mutuall eye
Shot equall flames, and with the secret tie
Of vndisclos'd affection, ioyn'd together
Their yeelding hearts, their loues vnknown to either,
Both dearly lou'd: the more they stroue to hide
Their loue, affection they the more descride.
It lyes beyond the power of art to smother
Affection, where one vertue finds another:
One was their thoughts, and their desires one,
And yet both lou'd, vnknowne; beloued, vnknowne:
One was the Dart, that at the selfe same time
Was sent, that wounded her, that wounded him:
Both hop'd, both fear'd alike, both ioy'd, both grieu'd;
Yet, where they both could helpe, was none relieu'd:
Two lou'd, and two beloued were; yet none
But two in all, and yet that all but one.
By this time had their barren lippes betraid
Their timorous silence; now they had displaid
25
Sate in a tree, and clapt his hands, and smil'd
To see the combat of two wounded friends:
He strikes and wounds himselfe, while she defends
That would be wounded, for her paine proceeds,
And flowes from his, and from his wound, she bleeds;
She playes at him, and ayming at his breast,
Pierc'd her owne heart: and when his hand addrest
The blow to her faire bosome, there it found
His owne deare heart, and gaue that heart the wound:
At length both conquer'd and yet both did yeeld,
Both lost the day, and yet both wan the field:
And as the warfare of their tongues did cease,
Their lips gaue earnest of a ioyfull peace.
But ô the hideous chances that attend
A louers progresse, to his iournies end!
How many desp'rate rubs, and dangers waite
Each minute, on his miserable state!
His hopes doe build, what straight his feares destroy,
Sometimes, he surfeits with excesse of ioy:
Sometimes, despairing ere to find reliefe,
He roares beneath the tyranny of griefe;
And when loues current runnes with greatest force,
Some obuious mischiefe still disturbes the course:
For loe, no sooner the discouerd flame
Of these new parted louers did proclaime
Loues sacred Iubilé; but the Virgins Mother
(The posture of whose visage did discouer
Some serious matter, harb'ring in her brest)
Enters the roome: Halfe angry, halfe in iest,
Shee thus began: My dearest child, this night,
When as the silent darknesse did inuite
Mine eyes to slumber, sundry thoughts possest
My troubled minde, and robb'd me of my rest;
I slept not, till the early bugle horne
Of Chaunticlere had summon'd in the Morne
T'attend the Light, and nurse the new-borne Day;
At last, when Morpheus, with his leaden key,
Had lockt my senses, and enlarg'd the power
Of my heauen guided fancy, for an houre
I slumbred; and before my slumbring eyes,
One, and the selfesame dreame presented thrice;
I wak'd; and, being frighted at the vision,
Perceiu'd the Gods had made an apparition:
My dreame was this: Me thought I saw thee sitting
Drest like a princely Bride, with robes befitting
The state of Maiesty; thy Nymph-like haire
Loosely disheuel'd; and thy browes did beare
A Cypresse wreath; and (thrice three months expir'd)
Thy pregnant wombe grew heauy, and required
Lucina's aid: with that, me thought I saw
A teame of harnest Peacocks fiercely draw
A fiery Chariot from the flitting sky,
Wherein there sate the glorious Maiesty
Of great Saturnia, on whose traine attended
An hoast of Goddesses; Iuno descended
From out the flaming Chariot, and blest
Thy painfull wombe: Thy paines a while encreast;
At length, she laid her gentle palmes vpon
Thy fruitfull flanke, and there was borne a son:
She made thee mother of a smiling boy,
And, after, blest thee with a mothers ioy;
She kist the Babe, whose fortune she foretold,
For on his head she set a Crowne of Gold;
Forthwith, as if the heauens had clouen in sunder,
Me thoughts I heard the horrid noise of thunder;
The raine pour'd downe, and yet the skie was cleare,
And euery drop that lighted, did appeare
As orient pearle, mixt with refined gold;
VVhereat, the goddesse turn'd, and said, Behold,
Great Ioue hath sent a gift: goe forth, and tak't,
Thus hauing spoke, she vanisht, and I wak't:
I wak't; and waking, trembled; for I knew
They were no idle passages, that grew
From my distemperd thoughts; twas not a vaine
Delusion rouing from a troubled braine;
It was a vision; and the gods forespake
Parthenia's fortune; Gods cannot mistake.
I lik'd the dreame; wherein the gods foretold
Thy ioyfull mariage; and the shower of gold
Betokened wealth; The Infants golden Crowne,
Ensuing honour: Iuno's comming downe,
A safe deliuerance; and the smiling Boy
Summ'd vp the totall of a mothers ioy:
But what the wreath of Cypresse (that was set
Vpon thy nuptiall browes) presag'd, as yet
The gods keepe from me: if that secret doe
Portend an euill, heauen keepe it from thee too.
Aduise Parthenia: Seeke not to withstand
The plot, wherein the Gods vouchsafe a hand;
Submit thy will to theirs; what they enioyne,
Must be; nor lyes it in my power, or thine
To contradict: Endeauor to fulfill
What, else, must come to passe against thy will.
Now by the filiall duty thou dost beare
The gods and me, or if ought else more deare
Can force obedience; as thou hop'st to speed
At the gods hands, in greatest time of need;
By heauen, by hell, by all the powers aboue,
I here coniure Parthenia to remoue
All sond conceits, that labour to disioyne
What heauen hath knit, Demagoras's heart and thine;
The gods are faithfull, and their wisedomes know
What's better for vs mortalls, then we doe;
Doubt not (my child) the gods cannot deceiue;
What heauen does offer, feare not to receiue.
With thankfull hands: Passe not so sleightly ouer
The deare affection of so true a louer;
Pitty his flames; relieue his tortur'd brest,
That findes abroad, no ioy; at home, no rest;
But, like a wounded Hart before the hounds,
That flies, with Cupids Iauelin in his wounds:
Stir vp thy rak't vp embers of desire,
The gods will bring in fewell, and blow the fire;
Be gentle; let thy cordiall smiles reuiue
His wasted spirits, that onely cares to liue
To doe thee honour: It was Cupids will,
The dart he sent, should onely wound; not kill;
Yeeld then; and let th'engaged gods powre downe
Their promis'd blessings on thy head; and crowne
Thy youth with ioyes; and maist thou after be
As blest in thine, as I am blest in thee.
A louers progresse, to his iournies end!
How many desp'rate rubs, and dangers waite
Each minute, on his miserable state!
His hopes doe build, what straight his feares destroy,
Sometimes, he surfeits with excesse of ioy:
Sometimes, despairing ere to find reliefe,
He roares beneath the tyranny of griefe;
And when loues current runnes with greatest force,
Some obuious mischiefe still disturbes the course:
For loe, no sooner the discouerd flame
Of these new parted louers did proclaime
Loues sacred Iubilé; but the Virgins Mother
(The posture of whose visage did discouer
Some serious matter, harb'ring in her brest)
Enters the roome: Halfe angry, halfe in iest,
Shee thus began: My dearest child, this night,
When as the silent darknesse did inuite
26
My troubled minde, and robb'd me of my rest;
I slept not, till the early bugle horne
Of Chaunticlere had summon'd in the Morne
T'attend the Light, and nurse the new-borne Day;
At last, when Morpheus, with his leaden key,
Had lockt my senses, and enlarg'd the power
Of my heauen guided fancy, for an houre
I slumbred; and before my slumbring eyes,
One, and the selfesame dreame presented thrice;
I wak'd; and, being frighted at the vision,
Perceiu'd the Gods had made an apparition:
My dreame was this: Me thought I saw thee sitting
Drest like a princely Bride, with robes befitting
The state of Maiesty; thy Nymph-like haire
Loosely disheuel'd; and thy browes did beare
A Cypresse wreath; and (thrice three months expir'd)
Thy pregnant wombe grew heauy, and required
Lucina's aid: with that, me thought I saw
A teame of harnest Peacocks fiercely draw
A fiery Chariot from the flitting sky,
Wherein there sate the glorious Maiesty
Of great Saturnia, on whose traine attended
An hoast of Goddesses; Iuno descended
From out the flaming Chariot, and blest
Thy painfull wombe: Thy paines a while encreast;
At length, she laid her gentle palmes vpon
Thy fruitfull flanke, and there was borne a son:
She made thee mother of a smiling boy,
And, after, blest thee with a mothers ioy;
She kist the Babe, whose fortune she foretold,
For on his head she set a Crowne of Gold;
27
Me thoughts I heard the horrid noise of thunder;
The raine pour'd downe, and yet the skie was cleare,
And euery drop that lighted, did appeare
As orient pearle, mixt with refined gold;
VVhereat, the goddesse turn'd, and said, Behold,
Great Ioue hath sent a gift: goe forth, and tak't,
Thus hauing spoke, she vanisht, and I wak't:
I wak't; and waking, trembled; for I knew
They were no idle passages, that grew
From my distemperd thoughts; twas not a vaine
Delusion rouing from a troubled braine;
It was a vision; and the gods forespake
Parthenia's fortune; Gods cannot mistake.
I lik'd the dreame; wherein the gods foretold
Thy ioyfull mariage; and the shower of gold
Betokened wealth; The Infants golden Crowne,
Ensuing honour: Iuno's comming downe,
A safe deliuerance; and the smiling Boy
Summ'd vp the totall of a mothers ioy:
But what the wreath of Cypresse (that was set
Vpon thy nuptiall browes) presag'd, as yet
The gods keepe from me: if that secret doe
Portend an euill, heauen keepe it from thee too.
Aduise Parthenia: Seeke not to withstand
The plot, wherein the Gods vouchsafe a hand;
Submit thy will to theirs; what they enioyne,
Must be; nor lyes it in my power, or thine
To contradict: Endeauor to fulfill
What, else, must come to passe against thy will.
Now by the filiall duty thou dost beare
The gods and me, or if ought else more deare
28
At the gods hands, in greatest time of need;
By heauen, by hell, by all the powers aboue,
I here coniure Parthenia to remoue
All sond conceits, that labour to disioyne
What heauen hath knit, Demagoras's heart and thine;
The gods are faithfull, and their wisedomes know
What's better for vs mortalls, then we doe;
Doubt not (my child) the gods cannot deceiue;
What heauen does offer, feare not to receiue.
With thankfull hands: Passe not so sleightly ouer
The deare affection of so true a louer;
Pitty his flames; relieue his tortur'd brest,
That findes abroad, no ioy; at home, no rest;
But, like a wounded Hart before the hounds,
That flies, with Cupids Iauelin in his wounds:
Stir vp thy rak't vp embers of desire,
The gods will bring in fewell, and blow the fire;
Be gentle; let thy cordiall smiles reuiue
His wasted spirits, that onely cares to liue
To doe thee honour: It was Cupids will,
The dart he sent, should onely wound; not kill;
Yeeld then; and let th'engaged gods powre downe
Their promis'd blessings on thy head; and crowne
Thy youth with ioyes; and maist thou after be
As blest in thine, as I am blest in thee.
So said: The faire Parthenia, to whose heart
Her fixt desires had taught th'unwilling Art
Of disobedience, calls her iudgement in;
And, of two euills, determines it a sin
More veniall, by a resolute deniall,
To proue vndutifull, then be disloyall
To him, whose heart a sacred vow had tyed
So fast to hers; and (weeping) thus replyed:
Her fixt desires had taught th'unwilling Art
Of disobedience, calls her iudgement in;
And, of two euills, determines it a sin
More veniall, by a resolute deniall,
To proue vndutifull, then be disloyall
29
So fast to hers; and (weeping) thus replyed:
Madam,
The angry gods haue late conspir'd to showThe vtmost their enraged hands could doe,
And hauing laid aside all mercy, stretch
Their power, to make one miserable wretch,
Whose curst and tortur'd soule must onely be
The subiect of their wrath; and I am she.
Hard is the case! my deare desires must faile;
My vowes must cracke; my plighted faith be fraile;
Or else affection must be so exil'd
A mothers heart, that she renounce her child.
And as she spake that word, a flowing tide
Of teares gusht out, whose violence deny'd
Th'intended passage of her doubling tongue:
She stopt a while: Then on the floore she flung
Her prostrate body, whilst her hands did teare
(Not knowing what they did) her dainty haire.
Sometimes she struck the ground; somtimes, her brest:
Began some words, and then wept out the rest;
At last, her liuelesse hands did, by degrees,
Raise her cast body on her feeble knees,
And humbly rearing her sad eyes vpon
Her mothers frowning visage, thus went on.
Of teares gusht out, whose violence deny'd
Th'intended passage of her doubling tongue:
She stopt a while: Then on the floore she flung
Her prostrate body, whilst her hands did teare
(Not knowing what they did) her dainty haire.
Sometimes she struck the ground; somtimes, her brest:
Began some words, and then wept out the rest;
At last, her liuelesse hands did, by degrees,
Raise her cast body on her feeble knees,
And humbly rearing her sad eyes vpon
Her mothers frowning visage, thus went on.
Vpon these knees; these knees that ne're were bent
To you in vaine; that neuer did present
Their vnrewarded duty; neuer rose
Without a mothers blessing; vpon those,
Vpon those naked knees, I recommend
To your deare thoughts, those torments that attend
Your poore Parthenia, whose vnknowne distresse
Craues rather, death, then language to expresse.
What shall I doe? Demagoras and Death
Sound both alike to these sad eares; that breath
That names the one, does nominate the other.
No, no, I cannot loue him; my deare mother,
Command Parthenia now to vndergoe
What death you please, and these quick hands shall show
The seale of my obedience in my heart.
The gods themselues, that haue a secret art
To force affection, cannot violate
The lawes of Nature, stop the course of Fate.
Can earth forget her burthen, and ascend?
Or can th'aspiring flames be taught to tend
To th'earth? If fire descend, and earth aspire,
Earth were no longer earth, nor fire, fire.
Euen so, by nature, 'tis all one to me,
To loue Demagoras, and not to be.
No, no, the heauens can doe no act that's greater,
Then (hauing made so) to preserue their creature.
And thinke you that the righteous Gods would fill me
With such false ioyes, as (if enioy'd) would kill me?
I know that they are mercifull: what they
Command, they giue a power to obey.
The ioyfull vision that your slumbring eyes
Of late beheld, did promise and comprise
A fayrer fortune, then the heauens can share
To poore Partheniaes merit; whom despaire
Hath swallow'd: Your prophetick dreame discride
A royall mariage; pointed out the Bride;
Her safe Deliuerance, and her smiling sonne;
Honour and wealth; and after all was done,
There wants a Bridegroome: him, the heauens haue seald
Within my brest, by me, to be reueal'd;
VVhich, if your patience shall vouchsafe to heare,
My lips shall recommend vnto your eare.
To you in vaine; that neuer did present
Their vnrewarded duty; neuer rose
Without a mothers blessing; vpon those,
Vpon those naked knees, I recommend
To your deare thoughts, those torments that attend
30
Craues rather, death, then language to expresse.
What shall I doe? Demagoras and Death
Sound both alike to these sad eares; that breath
That names the one, does nominate the other.
No, no, I cannot loue him; my deare mother,
Command Parthenia now to vndergoe
What death you please, and these quick hands shall show
The seale of my obedience in my heart.
The gods themselues, that haue a secret art
To force affection, cannot violate
The lawes of Nature, stop the course of Fate.
Can earth forget her burthen, and ascend?
Or can th'aspiring flames be taught to tend
To th'earth? If fire descend, and earth aspire,
Earth were no longer earth, nor fire, fire.
Euen so, by nature, 'tis all one to me,
To loue Demagoras, and not to be.
No, no, the heauens can doe no act that's greater,
Then (hauing made so) to preserue their creature.
And thinke you that the righteous Gods would fill me
With such false ioyes, as (if enioy'd) would kill me?
I know that they are mercifull: what they
Command, they giue a power to obey.
The ioyfull vision that your slumbring eyes
Of late beheld, did promise and comprise
A fayrer fortune, then the heauens can share
To poore Partheniaes merit; whom despaire
Hath swallow'd: Your prophetick dreame discride
A royall mariage; pointed out the Bride;
Her safe Deliuerance, and her smiling sonne;
Honour and wealth; and after all was done,
31
Within my brest, by me, to be reueal'd;
VVhich, if your patience shall vouchsafe to heare,
My lips shall recommend vnto your eare.
When as Basilius (may whose royall hand
Long sway the scepter of th'Arcadian land)
From Cyprus brought his more then princely Bride,
The faire Gynecia, (whom as Greece deny'd
An equall; so the world acknowledg'd none
As her superiour in perfection:)
Vpon this Ladies royall traine, and state,
A great concourse of Nobles did awaite,
And Cyprian Princes, with their princely port,
To see her crowned in th'Arcadian Court;
Illustrious Princes were they: but as farre
As midnight Phebe outshines the twinckling Starre,
So far, amongst this rout of Princes, one
Surpast the rest, in honour and renowne;
VVhose perfect vertue findes more admiration
In the Arcadian Court, then imitation:
In th'exc'lence of his outward parts, and feature,
The world conceiues, the curious hand of Nature
Outwent it selfe; which, being richly fraught
And furnisht with transcendent worth, is thought
To be the chosen fortresse for protection
Of all the Arts, and storehouse of perfection:
The Cyprus stock did ne're, till now, bring forth
So rare a Branch, whose vnderualued worth
Brings greater glory to th'Arcadian Land,
Then can the dull Arcadians vnderstand;
His name is Argalus.
He (Madam) was that Cypresse wreath, that crown'd
My nuptiall brows: And now the Bridegroom's found,
Cloath'd in the mystry of that Cypresse wreath;
VVhich, since the better gods haue pleas'd to breathe
Into my soule, O may I cease to be,
If ought, but death, part Argalus and me:
Yet does my safe obedience not withstand
VVhat you desire, or what the gods command:
For what the gods command, is your desire
Parthenia should obey; and not respire
Against their sacred counsels, or withstand
The plot, wherein they haue vouchsaf'd a hand:
VVe must submit our wils; what they enioyne,
Must be; nor lies it in your power or mine,
To crosse: we must endeauour to fulfill
VVhat else must come to passe against our will;
My vowes are past, and second heauens decree,
Nothing shall part my Argalus and me.
Long sway the scepter of th'Arcadian land)
From Cyprus brought his more then princely Bride,
The faire Gynecia, (whom as Greece deny'd
An equall; so the world acknowledg'd none
As her superiour in perfection:)
Vpon this Ladies royall traine, and state,
A great concourse of Nobles did awaite,
And Cyprian Princes, with their princely port,
To see her crowned in th'Arcadian Court;
Illustrious Princes were they: but as farre
As midnight Phebe outshines the twinckling Starre,
So far, amongst this rout of Princes, one
Surpast the rest, in honour and renowne;
VVhose perfect vertue findes more admiration
In the Arcadian Court, then imitation:
In th'exc'lence of his outward parts, and feature,
The world conceiues, the curious hand of Nature
Outwent it selfe; which, being richly fraught
And furnisht with transcendent worth, is thought
To be the chosen fortresse for protection
Of all the Arts, and storehouse of perfection:
The Cyprus stock did ne're, till now, bring forth
So rare a Branch, whose vnderualued worth
Brings greater glory to th'Arcadian Land,
Then can the dull Arcadians vnderstand;
His name is Argalus.
He (Madam) was that Cypresse wreath, that crown'd
32
Cloath'd in the mystry of that Cypresse wreath;
VVhich, since the better gods haue pleas'd to breathe
Into my soule, O may I cease to be,
If ought, but death, part Argalus and me:
Yet does my safe obedience not withstand
VVhat you desire, or what the gods command:
For what the gods command, is your desire
Parthenia should obey; and not respire
Against their sacred counsels, or withstand
The plot, wherein they haue vouchsaf'd a hand:
VVe must submit our wils; what they enioyne,
Must be; nor lies it in your power or mine,
To crosse: we must endeauour to fulfill
VVhat else must come to passe against our will;
My vowes are past, and second heauens decree,
Nothing shall part my Argalus and me.
So said; Th'impatient mothers kindled eye
(Halfe closed with a murtherous frowne) let flie
A scorching fireball, from whence was shed
Some drops of choller; sternly shakes her head;
With trembling hands vnlocks the doore, and flees,
Leauing Parthenia on her aking knees,
And as she fled, her fury thus began
To open, And is Argalus the man?
But there she stopt; when striuing to expresse
What rage had prompted, could doe nothing lesse.
(Halfe closed with a murtherous frowne) let flie
A scorching fireball, from whence was shed
Some drops of choller; sternly shakes her head;
With trembling hands vnlocks the doore, and flees,
Leauing Parthenia on her aking knees,
And as she fled, her fury thus began
To open, And is Argalus the man?
But there she stopt; when striuing to expresse
What rage had prompted, could doe nothing lesse.
All you, whose deare affections haue beene tost
In Cupids blanket, and vniustly crost
By wilfull Parents, whose extreame command
Haue made you groan beneath their tyrannous hand,
That take a furious pleasure to diuorse
Your soules from your best thoughts, nay (what is worse
Then torture) force your fancies to respect,
And dearely loue, whom most you disaffect:
Draw neare, and comfort the distressed heart
Of poore Parthenia; let your eyes impart
One droppe at least: And whosoe're thou be
That read'st these lines, may thy desiers see
The like successe, if reading, thou forbeare
To wet this very paper with a teare.
Behold (poore Lady) how an houres time
Hath pluck't her faded roses from their prime,
And like an vnregarded ruine, lyes,
With deaths vntimely image in her eyes.
She, she, whom hopeful thoughts had newly crownd
With promis'd ioyes, lyes groueling on the ground;
Her weary hand sustaine her drooping head;
(Too soft a pillow for so hard a bed)
Her eyes swolne vp, as loath to see the light,
That would discouer so forlorne a sight:
The flaxen wealth of her neglected haires
Stick't fast to her pale cheeks with dried teares;
And at first blush, she seemes, as if it were
Some curious statue on a Sepulchre:
Sometimes her brinie lips would whisper thus,
My Argalus, my dearest Argalus:
And then they clos'd againe, as if the one
Had kist the other, for that seruice done
In naming Argalus: sometimes opprest
With a deepe sigh, she gaue her panting brest
A sudden stroke; and after that, another,
Crying, Hard fortune, O hard hearted mother!
And sicke with her owne thoughts, her passion stroue
Betwixt the two extreames of griefe, and loue;
The more she grieu'd, the more her loue abounded;
The more she lou'd, the more her heart was wounded
With desperate griefe: at length, the tyrannous force
Of loue and griefe, sent forth this selfe discourse.
In Cupids blanket, and vniustly crost
By wilfull Parents, whose extreame command
Haue made you groan beneath their tyrannous hand,
That take a furious pleasure to diuorse
33
Then torture) force your fancies to respect,
And dearely loue, whom most you disaffect:
Draw neare, and comfort the distressed heart
Of poore Parthenia; let your eyes impart
One droppe at least: And whosoe're thou be
That read'st these lines, may thy desiers see
The like successe, if reading, thou forbeare
To wet this very paper with a teare.
Behold (poore Lady) how an houres time
Hath pluck't her faded roses from their prime,
And like an vnregarded ruine, lyes,
With deaths vntimely image in her eyes.
She, she, whom hopeful thoughts had newly crownd
With promis'd ioyes, lyes groueling on the ground;
Her weary hand sustaine her drooping head;
(Too soft a pillow for so hard a bed)
Her eyes swolne vp, as loath to see the light,
That would discouer so forlorne a sight:
The flaxen wealth of her neglected haires
Stick't fast to her pale cheeks with dried teares;
And at first blush, she seemes, as if it were
Some curious statue on a Sepulchre:
Sometimes her brinie lips would whisper thus,
My Argalus, my dearest Argalus:
And then they clos'd againe, as if the one
Had kist the other, for that seruice done
In naming Argalus: sometimes opprest
With a deepe sigh, she gaue her panting brest
A sudden stroke; and after that, another,
Crying, Hard fortune, O hard hearted mother!
And sicke with her owne thoughts, her passion stroue
34
The more she grieu'd, the more her loue abounded;
The more she lou'd, the more her heart was wounded
With desperate griefe: at length, the tyrannous force
Of loue and griefe, sent forth this selfe discourse.
How art thou chang'd (Parthenia?) how hath passion
Put all thy thoughts, and senses out of fashion?
Exil'd thy little iudgement, and betray'd thee
To thine owne selfe? How nothing hath it made thee?
How is thy weather-beaten soule opprest
With stormes and tempests blowne from the Northeast
Of cold despaire? which, long ere this, had found
Eternall rest; had bin orewhelm'd, and drown'd
In the deepe gulfe of all my miseries,
Had I not pumpt this water from mine eyes;
My Argalus; ô where, ô where art thou?
Thou little think'st thy poore Parthenia, now
Is tortur'd for thy sake; alas, (deare heart!)
Thou know'st not the insufferable smart
I vndergoe for thee: Thou dost not keepe
A Register of those sad teares I weepe,
No, no, thou dost not.
Well, well; from henceforth, Fortune, doe not spare
To doe the worst (thy Agent) Mischiefe dare;
Deuise new torments, or repeat the old,
Vntill thou burst, or I complaine: Be hold,
As bitter; I disdaine thy rage, thy power;
Who's leuell'd with the earth, can fall no lower;
Doe; spit thy venome forth, and temper all
Thy studied actions with the spirit of gall;
Thy practis'd malice can no euill deuise
Too hard, for Argalus to exercise;
His loue shall sweeten death, and make a torture
My sportfull pastime, to make houres shorter;
His loue shall fill my heart, and leaue no roome,
Wherein your rage may practise martyrdoome.
Put all thy thoughts, and senses out of fashion?
Exil'd thy little iudgement, and betray'd thee
To thine owne selfe? How nothing hath it made thee?
How is thy weather-beaten soule opprest
With stormes and tempests blowne from the Northeast
Of cold despaire? which, long ere this, had found
Eternall rest; had bin orewhelm'd, and drown'd
In the deepe gulfe of all my miseries,
Had I not pumpt this water from mine eyes;
My Argalus; ô where, ô where art thou?
Thou little think'st thy poore Parthenia, now
Is tortur'd for thy sake; alas, (deare heart!)
Thou know'st not the insufferable smart
I vndergoe for thee: Thou dost not keepe
A Register of those sad teares I weepe,
No, no, thou dost not.
Well, well; from henceforth, Fortune, doe not spare
To doe the worst (thy Agent) Mischiefe dare;
Deuise new torments, or repeat the old,
Vntill thou burst, or I complaine: Be hold,
As bitter; I disdaine thy rage, thy power;
Who's leuell'd with the earth, can fall no lower;
Doe; spit thy venome forth, and temper all
Thy studied actions with the spirit of gall;
Thy practis'd malice can no euill deuise
Too hard, for Argalus to exercise;
35
My sportfull pastime, to make houres shorter;
His loue shall fill my heart, and leaue no roome,
Wherein your rage may practise martyrdoome.
But ere that word could vsher out another,
The tender Virgins marble hearted mother
Enters the Chamber; with a chang'd aspect
Beholds Parthenia; with a new respect
Salutes her child, and (hauing clos'd the doore)
Her helpfull arme remoues her from the floore
Whereon she lay; and, being set together,
In gentle termes, she thus did commune with her.
The tender Virgins marble hearted mother
Enters the Chamber; with a chang'd aspect
Beholds Parthenia; with a new respect
Salutes her child, and (hauing clos'd the doore)
Her helpfull arme remoues her from the floore
Whereon she lay; and, being set together,
In gentle termes, she thus did commune with her.
Peruerse Parthenia, Is thy heart so sworne
To Argalus his loue, that it must scorne
Demagoras? Are your soules conioyn'd so close,
That my entreaty may not enterpose?
If so, what helpe? yet let a mothers care
Be not contemn'd, that bids her child beware.
The sickle that's too early, cannot reape
A fruitfull Haruest: Looke, before you leape:
Adiourne your thoughts, and make a wise delay,
You cannot measure vertue in a day;
Vertues appeare, but vices baulke the light;
Tis hard to read a vice at the first sight.
False are those ioyes, that are not mixt with doubt,
Fire easely kindled, will not easely out:
Diuide that loue, which thou bestowst on one,
Twixt two: try both; then take the best, or none:
Consult with time: for time bewrayes, discouers
The faith, the loue, the constancy of louers.
Acts done in hast, by leasure are repented,
And things, soone past, are oft, too late lamented:
With that, Parthenia, rising from her place,
And bowing with incomparable grace,
Made this reply; Madam, each seuerall day
Since first you gaue this body being, may
Write a large volume of your tender care,
Whose hourely goodnesse if it should compare
With my deserts, alas, the world would show
Too great a summe for one poore heart to owe;
I must confesse my heart is not so sworne
To Argalus his merit as to scorne
Demagoras; nor yet so loosely tyed,
That I can slip the knot, and so diuide
Entire affection, which must not be seuer'd,
Nor euer can be (but in vaine) endeuour'd.
My heart is one, and by one power guided;
One is no number; cannot be diuided.
And Cupids learned schoolemen haue resolu'd
That loue diuided is but loue dissolu'd;
But yet, what plighted faith, and honour may
Not now vndoe, your counsell shall delay.
Madam, Partheniaes hand is not so greedy,
To reape her corne, before her corne he ready:
Her vnaduised sickle shall not thrust
Into her hopefull Haruest, ere needs must:
To yours Parthenia shall submit her skill,
Whose season shall be season'd by your will:
Her time of haruest shall admit no measure
But onely what's proportion'd by your pleasure.
So ended she; But till that darknesse got
The mastry of the light, they parted not.
The mother pleads for the Laconian Lord;
The daughter (whose impatience had abhorr'd
His very name, had not her mother spok't)
She pleads her vow, which cannot be reuokt.
Yet still the mother pleads, and does omit
No way vntryed, that a hard hearted wit
Knowes to deuise; perswades, allures, entreats;
Mingles his words with smiles, with tears, wth threats;
Commands, coniures; tries one way, tryes another,
Does th'vtmost that a marble brested mother
Can doe; and yet the more she did apply,
The more she taught Parthenia to deny;
The more she did assault, the more contend;
The more she taught the virgin to defend.
At last, despairing (for her words did finde
More ease to moue a mountaine, then her minde)
She spake no more; but from her chaire she started,
And spit these words, Goe, peenish Girle, and parted.
Away she flings, and finding no successe
In her lost words, her fury did addresse
Her raging thoughts to a new studied plot;
Actions must now enforce, what words could not.
Treason is in her thoughts; Her furious breath
Can whisper now no language, vnder death;
Poore Argalus must dye; and his remoue
Must make the passage to Demagoras loue:
And till that barre be broken, or put by,
No hope to speed; Poore Argalus must dye.
Demagoras is call'd to counsell now,
Consults, consents; and, after mutuall vow,
Resoluing on the act, they both conspire,
Which way to execute their close desire.
Drawing his keene Seeletto from his side,
Madam (said he) This medicine well applide,
To Argalus his bosome, will giue rest
To him, and me; the sudden way is best.
My Lord (said she) your trembling hand may misse
The marke, and then your selfe in danger is
Of outcry; or perchance his owne resistance.
Attempts are dangerous, at so small a distance.
A drugg's the better weapon; which does breathe
Deaths secret errand, carries sudden death
Clos'd vp in sweetnesse: Come, a drugge strikes sure,
And works our ends, and yet we sleepe secure.
My Lord, bethinke no other; Set your rest
Vpon these Cards; The surest way is best:
Leaue me to manage our successfull plot,
And if these studious browes contriue it not
Too sure, for art of Magicke to preuent,
Ne're trust a womans wit, when fully bent
To take reuenge: Begone, my Lord; repose
The trust in me: Onely be wise, be close.
To Argalus his loue, that it must scorne
Demagoras? Are your soules conioyn'd so close,
That my entreaty may not enterpose?
If so, what helpe? yet let a mothers care
Be not contemn'd, that bids her child beware.
The sickle that's too early, cannot reape
A fruitfull Haruest: Looke, before you leape:
Adiourne your thoughts, and make a wise delay,
You cannot measure vertue in a day;
Vertues appeare, but vices baulke the light;
Tis hard to read a vice at the first sight.
False are those ioyes, that are not mixt with doubt,
Fire easely kindled, will not easely out:
Diuide that loue, which thou bestowst on one,
Twixt two: try both; then take the best, or none:
Consult with time: for time bewrayes, discouers
The faith, the loue, the constancy of louers.
Acts done in hast, by leasure are repented,
And things, soone past, are oft, too late lamented:
36
And bowing with incomparable grace,
Made this reply; Madam, each seuerall day
Since first you gaue this body being, may
Write a large volume of your tender care,
Whose hourely goodnesse if it should compare
With my deserts, alas, the world would show
Too great a summe for one poore heart to owe;
I must confesse my heart is not so sworne
To Argalus his merit as to scorne
Demagoras; nor yet so loosely tyed,
That I can slip the knot, and so diuide
Entire affection, which must not be seuer'd,
Nor euer can be (but in vaine) endeuour'd.
My heart is one, and by one power guided;
One is no number; cannot be diuided.
And Cupids learned schoolemen haue resolu'd
That loue diuided is but loue dissolu'd;
But yet, what plighted faith, and honour may
Not now vndoe, your counsell shall delay.
Madam, Partheniaes hand is not so greedy,
To reape her corne, before her corne he ready:
Her vnaduised sickle shall not thrust
Into her hopefull Haruest, ere needs must:
To yours Parthenia shall submit her skill,
Whose season shall be season'd by your will:
Her time of haruest shall admit no measure
But onely what's proportion'd by your pleasure.
So ended she; But till that darknesse got
The mastry of the light, they parted not.
The mother pleads for the Laconian Lord;
The daughter (whose impatience had abhorr'd
37
She pleads her vow, which cannot be reuokt.
Yet still the mother pleads, and does omit
No way vntryed, that a hard hearted wit
Knowes to deuise; perswades, allures, entreats;
Mingles his words with smiles, with tears, wth threats;
Commands, coniures; tries one way, tryes another,
Does th'vtmost that a marble brested mother
Can doe; and yet the more she did apply,
The more she taught Parthenia to deny;
The more she did assault, the more contend;
The more she taught the virgin to defend.
At last, despairing (for her words did finde
More ease to moue a mountaine, then her minde)
She spake no more; but from her chaire she started,
And spit these words, Goe, peenish Girle, and parted.
Away she flings, and finding no successe
In her lost words, her fury did addresse
Her raging thoughts to a new studied plot;
Actions must now enforce, what words could not.
Treason is in her thoughts; Her furious breath
Can whisper now no language, vnder death;
Poore Argalus must dye; and his remoue
Must make the passage to Demagoras loue:
And till that barre be broken, or put by,
No hope to speed; Poore Argalus must dye.
Demagoras is call'd to counsell now,
Consults, consents; and, after mutuall vow,
Resoluing on the act, they both conspire,
Which way to execute their close desire.
Drawing his keene Seeletto from his side,
Madam (said he) This medicine well applide,
38
To him, and me; the sudden way is best.
My Lord (said she) your trembling hand may misse
The marke, and then your selfe in danger is
Of outcry; or perchance his owne resistance.
Attempts are dangerous, at so small a distance.
A drugg's the better weapon; which does breathe
Deaths secret errand, carries sudden death
Clos'd vp in sweetnesse: Come, a drugge strikes sure,
And works our ends, and yet we sleepe secure.
My Lord, bethinke no other; Set your rest
Vpon these Cards; The surest way is best:
Leaue me to manage our successfull plot,
And if these studious browes contriue it not
Too sure, for art of Magicke to preuent,
Ne're trust a womans wit, when fully bent
To take reuenge: Begone, my Lord; repose
The trust in me: Onely be wise, be close.
That night, when as the vniuersall shade
Of the vnspangled heauen, and earth had made
An vtter darknesse; (darknesse, apt to further
The horrid enterprise of rapes, and murther)
She, she, that now lacks nothing to procure
A full reuenge, she calls Athleia to her,
(Partheniaes handmaid) whom she thus bespake.
Of the vnspangled heauen, and earth had made
An vtter darknesse; (darknesse, apt to further
The horrid enterprise of rapes, and murther)
She, she, that now lacks nothing to procure
A full reuenge, she calls Athleia to her,
(Partheniaes handmaid) whom she thus bespake.
Athleia, dare thy priuate thoughts partake
With mine? Canst thou be secret? Has thy heart
A locke that none can pick by thee vish art,
Or brake by force? Tell me, Canst thou digest
A secret, trusted to thy faithfull brest?
With mine? Canst thou be secret? Has thy heart
A locke that none can pick by thee vish art,
Or brake by force? Tell me, Canst thou digest
A secret, trusted to thy faithfull brest?
Madam, said she, Let me bee neuer true
To my owne thoughts, if euer false to you:
Speake what you please; Athleia shall conceale,
Torments may make me roare, but ne're reueale.
To my owne thoughts, if euer false to you:
39
Torments may make me roare, but ne're reueale.
Replyde the Lady then: Athleia knows
How much, how much my deare affection owes
Partheniaes heart, whose welfare is the crowne
Of all my ioyes, which now is ouerthrowne
And deeply buried in forgotten dust,
If thou betray the secret of my trust.
It lyeth in thy power to remoue
Approaching euills: Parthenia is in loue:
Her wasted spirits languish in her brest,
And nought, but look'd for death, can giue her rest;
Tis Argalus she loues; who, with disdaine,
Requites her loue, not louing her againe;
He sleights her teares: The more that he neglects,
The more entirely she (poore soule) affects:
She groanes beneath the burden of despaire,
And with her sighes she cloyes the idle ayre.
Thou art acquainted with her priuate teares;
And you, so oft exchanging tongues and eares,
Must know too much, for one poore heart t'endure;
But desperate's the wound admits no Cure:
It lies in thee to helpe: Athleia, say,
Wilt thou assist me, if I find the way?
How much, how much my deare affection owes
Partheniaes heart, whose welfare is the crowne
Of all my ioyes, which now is ouerthrowne
And deeply buried in forgotten dust,
If thou betray the secret of my trust.
It lyeth in thy power to remoue
Approaching euills: Parthenia is in loue:
Her wasted spirits languish in her brest,
And nought, but look'd for death, can giue her rest;
Tis Argalus she loues; who, with disdaine,
Requites her loue, not louing her againe;
He sleights her teares: The more that he neglects,
The more entirely she (poore soule) affects:
She groanes beneath the burden of despaire,
And with her sighes she cloyes the idle ayre.
Thou art acquainted with her priuate teares;
And you, so oft exchanging tongues and eares,
Must know too much, for one poore heart t'endure;
But desperate's the wound admits no Cure:
It lies in thee to helpe: Athleia, say,
Wilt thou assist me, if I find the way?
Madam, my forced ignorance shall be
Sufficient earnest of my secresie:
Your lips haue vtter'd nothing that is new
To Athleias eares: Alas, it is too true.
Long, long ere this, your seruant had reueal'd
The same to you, had not my lips bin seal'd:
But if my best endeauors may extend
To bring my Mistresse sorrowes to an end,
Let all the enraged Dieties allot
To me worse torment, if I doe it not:
My life's too poore to hazard for her ease;
Madam, Ile doo't; Command me what you please:
So said; The treacherous Lady steps aside,
Into her serious closet; and applide
Her hasty, and perfidious hands, to frame
This forged letter, in Partheniaes name.
Sufficient earnest of my secresie:
Your lips haue vtter'd nothing that is new
To Athleias eares: Alas, it is too true.
Long, long ere this, your seruant had reueal'd
The same to you, had not my lips bin seal'd:
But if my best endeauors may extend
To bring my Mistresse sorrowes to an end,
40
To me worse torment, if I doe it not:
My life's too poore to hazard for her ease;
Madam, Ile doo't; Command me what you please:
So said; The treacherous Lady steps aside,
Into her serious closet; and applide
Her hasty, and perfidious hands, to frame
This forged letter, in Partheniaes name.
Constant Parthenia to her faithfull Argalus.
Although
the malice of a mother
Does yet enforce my tongue to smother
What my desire is, should flame;
yet Parthenia is the same.
Does yet enforce my tongue to smother
What my desire is, should flame;
yet Parthenia is the same.
Although my fire be hid a while,
Tis but fire slak'd with oyle;
Before seuen Suns shall rise and fall,
It shall burne, and blaze with all.
Tis but fire slak'd with oyle;
Before seuen Suns shall rise and fall,
It shall burne, and blaze with all.
What I send thee, drinke with speed,
Else let my Argalus take heed;
Vnlesse thy prouidence withstand,
there is treason ne're at hand;
Drinke as thou lou'st me, and it shall secure thee
From future dangers; or from past, recure thee.
Else let my Argalus take heed;
Vnlesse thy prouidence withstand,
there is treason ne're at hand;
Drinke as thou lou'st me, and it shall secure thee
From future dangers; or from past, recure thee.
This done, and seal'd, she op'd her priuate doore,
Call'd in Athleia, and said; For euery sore
The gods prouide a salue. Force must preuaile,
Where sighes and teares, and deepe entreaties faile.
Forthwith, from out her Cabinet she tooke
A little glasse, and said, Athleia, looke
Within these slender walls, these glazed lists,
Partheniaes happinesse, and life consists;
It is Nepenthe; which the factious gods
Doe vse to drinke, when ere they be at ods,
Whose secret vertue (so infus'd by Ioue)
Does turne deep hatred, into dearest loue;
It makes the proudest louer whine and baule,
And such to dote, as neuer lou'd at all;
Here, take this glasse, and recommend the same
To Argalus in his Partheniaes name,
And to his hand, to his owne hand commit
This letter; Betweene Argalus, and it
Let no eye come: Be sure thy speed preuent
The rising Sun: and so heauens crowne th'euent.
Call'd in Athleia, and said; For euery sore
41
Where sighes and teares, and deepe entreaties faile.
Forthwith, from out her Cabinet she tooke
A little glasse, and said, Athleia, looke
Within these slender walls, these glazed lists,
Partheniaes happinesse, and life consists;
It is Nepenthe; which the factious gods
Doe vse to drinke, when ere they be at ods,
Whose secret vertue (so infus'd by Ioue)
Does turne deep hatred, into dearest loue;
It makes the proudest louer whine and baule,
And such to dote, as neuer lou'd at all;
Here, take this glasse, and recommend the same
To Argalus in his Partheniaes name,
And to his hand, to his owne hand commit
This letter; Betweene Argalus, and it
Let no eye come: Be sure thy speed preuent
The rising Sun: and so heauens crowne th'euent.
By this the feather'd Bellman of the night
Sent forth his midnight summons, to inuite
All eyes to slumber, when they both addrest
Their thoughtfull minds, to take a doubtfull rest.
Sent forth his midnight summons, to inuite
All eyes to slumber, when they both addrest
Their thoughtfull minds, to take a doubtfull rest.
O heauens! and you, O you celestiall powers,
That neuer slumber, but imploy all houres
In mans protection; still preseruing, keeping
Our soules from obuious dangers, waking, sleeping.
O, can your all-descerning eyes behold
Such impious actions prosper, vncontroll'd?
O can your hearts, your tender hearts endure
To see your seruant (that now sleepes secure,
Vnarm'd, vnwarn'd, and hauing no defence,
But your protection, and his innocence)
Betray'd, and murther'd, drawing at one breath
His owne prepar'd destruction, his owne death?
And will ye suffer't? He that is the crowne
Of prized vertue, honour and renowne;
The flowre of Arts; the Cyprian liuing story;
Arcadias Girland, and great Græces glory;
The earths new wonder; and the worlds example,
Must dye betraid; Treason and death must trample
Vpon his life; and, in the dust, must lye
As much admir'd perfection, as can dye.
No, Argalus, the coward hand of death
Durst ne're assault thee, if not vnderneath
The Maske of loue: Thou art aboue the reach
Of open wrongs; Mans force could ne're make breach
Into thy life: no, Death could ne're vncase
Thy soule, had she appeared face to face.
Dreame, Argalus; and let thy thoughts be troubled
With murthers, treasons; Let thy dreams be doubled
And what thy frighted fancy shall perceiue,
Be wisely superstitious, and beleeue.
O, that my lines could wake thee now, and feuer
Those eyelids, that ere long must sleepe for euer.
Wake, now or neuer Argalus; and withstand
Thy danger; Wake, the murtheresse is at hand.
Parthenia, oh Parthenia, who shall weepe
Thy world of teares? Canst thou, O canst thou sleep?
Will thy dull Genius giue thee leaue to slumber?
Does nothing trouble thee? no dreame incumber
Thy frighted thoughts? and Argalus so neere
His latest houre? Not one dreaming teare?
Sleepe on: and when thy flattring slumber's past,
Perchance, thine eyes will learne to weepe as fast.
His death is plotted; And this morning light
Must send him downe, into eternall night.
Nay, what is worse then worst; His dying breath
Will censure thee, as Agent in his death.
That neuer slumber, but imploy all houres
In mans protection; still preseruing, keeping
Our soules from obuious dangers, waking, sleeping.
O, can your all-descerning eyes behold
Such impious actions prosper, vncontroll'd?
O can your hearts, your tender hearts endure
To see your seruant (that now sleepes secure,
Vnarm'd, vnwarn'd, and hauing no defence,
But your protection, and his innocence)
42
His owne prepar'd destruction, his owne death?
And will ye suffer't? He that is the crowne
Of prized vertue, honour and renowne;
The flowre of Arts; the Cyprian liuing story;
Arcadias Girland, and great Græces glory;
The earths new wonder; and the worlds example,
Must dye betraid; Treason and death must trample
Vpon his life; and, in the dust, must lye
As much admir'd perfection, as can dye.
No, Argalus, the coward hand of death
Durst ne're assault thee, if not vnderneath
The Maske of loue: Thou art aboue the reach
Of open wrongs; Mans force could ne're make breach
Into thy life: no, Death could ne're vncase
Thy soule, had she appeared face to face.
Dreame, Argalus; and let thy thoughts be troubled
With murthers, treasons; Let thy dreams be doubled
And what thy frighted fancy shall perceiue,
Be wisely superstitious, and beleeue.
O, that my lines could wake thee now, and feuer
Those eyelids, that ere long must sleepe for euer.
Wake, now or neuer Argalus; and withstand
Thy danger; Wake, the murtheresse is at hand.
Parthenia, oh Parthenia, who shall weepe
Thy world of teares? Canst thou, O canst thou sleep?
Will thy dull Genius giue thee leaue to slumber?
Does nothing trouble thee? no dreame incumber
Thy frighted thoughts? and Argalus so neere
His latest houre? Not one dreaming teare?
Sleepe on: and when thy flattring slumber's past,
Perchance, thine eyes will learne to weepe as fast.
43
Must send him downe, into eternall night.
Nay, what is worse then worst; His dying breath
Will censure thee, as Agent in his death.
By this the broadfac'd Quirister of night
Surceas'd her screeching note, and tooke her flight
To the next neighbring Ivy: Brids and beasts
Forsake the warme protection of their nests,
And nightly dens, whilst darknesse did display
Her sable curtaines, to let in the day,
When sad Athleia's dreame had vnbenighted
Her slumbring eies: her busie thoughts were frighted:
She rose, and trembled; and being halfe distraught,
With her prophetick feares; she thus bethought.
Surceas'd her screeching note, and tooke her flight
To the next neighbring Ivy: Brids and beasts
Forsake the warme protection of their nests,
And nightly dens, whilst darknesse did display
Her sable curtaines, to let in the day,
When sad Athleia's dreame had vnbenighted
Her slumbring eies: her busie thoughts were frighted:
She rose, and trembled; and being halfe distraught,
With her prophetick feares; she thus bethought.
What ayle the Gods, thus to disturbe my rest,
And make such earthquakes in my troubled brest?
Nothing but death, and murthers? Graues and Bells?
Frighting my fancy, with their hourely knells?
Twas nothing but a dreame; and dreames they say,
Expound themselues the cleane contrary way.
The Riddle's read; and now I vnderstand
My dreames intents: Some mariage is at hand:
For death interpreted, is nothing else
But mariage; And the melancholly Bells,
Is mirth and musicke: By the graue, is read
The ioyfull ioy, full, ioyfull, mariage bed:
I, I tis plaine: And now, me thinks, 'twas I,
That my prophetick dreame foretold, should dye.
If this be death, Death exercise thy power,
And let Athleia dye within this houre.
Doe, doe thy worst; Athleia's faithfull breath
Shall pray for nothing more then sudden death.
But stay, Athleia, the too forward day,
Begins to gild the East; away, away.
And make such earthquakes in my troubled brest?
Nothing but death, and murthers? Graues and Bells?
Frighting my fancy, with their hourely knells?
Twas nothing but a dreame; and dreames they say,
Expound themselues the cleane contrary way.
The Riddle's read; and now I vnderstand
My dreames intents: Some mariage is at hand:
For death interpreted, is nothing else
But mariage; And the melancholly Bells,
Is mirth and musicke: By the graue, is read
The ioyfull ioy, full, ioyfull, mariage bed:
I, I tis plaine: And now, me thinks, 'twas I,
That my prophetick dreame foretold, should dye.
If this be death, Death exercise thy power,
And let Athleia dye within this houre.
Doe, doe thy worst; Athleia's faithfull breath
Shall pray for nothing more then sudden death.
44
Begins to gild the East; away, away.
So hauing said; The nimble fingerd Lasse
Tooke the forg'd letter, and the amorous glasse,
And, to her early progresse, she applies her,
Departs, and towards Argalus she hies her;
But euery step she tooke, her mind enforc'd
New thoughts, and with her selfe, she thus discours'd.
Tooke the forg'd letter, and the amorous glasse,
And, to her early progresse, she applies her,
Departs, and towards Argalus she hies her;
But euery step she tooke, her mind enforc'd
New thoughts, and with her selfe, she thus discours'd.
How fraile's the nature of a womans will!
How crosse! The thing that's most forbidden, still
They more desire; and least inclinde, to doe
What they are most of all perswaded too.
Had not (alas) my Lady bound these hands,
Athleia ne're had struggled with her bands.
I must not tast it! Had she not enioyn'd
My lips from tasting it, Athleia's mind
Had neuer thought on't; now, me thinkss I long;
Desires, if once confinde, become too strong
For womans conquer'd reason to resist;
A womans reason's measur'd by her list.
I long to tast: yet was there nothing did
Mooue my desires, but that I was forbid.
How crosse! The thing that's most forbidden, still
They more desire; and least inclinde, to doe
What they are most of all perswaded too.
Had not (alas) my Lady bound these hands,
Athleia ne're had struggled with her bands.
I must not tast it! Had she not enioyn'd
My lips from tasting it, Athleia's mind
Had neuer thought on't; now, me thinkss I long;
Desires, if once confinde, become too strong
For womans conquer'd reason to resist;
A womans reason's measur'd by her list.
I long to tast: yet was there nothing did
Mooue my desires, but that I was forbid.
With that she stayd her weary steps, and hasted
T'vntye the Glasse; lift vp her arme and tasted;
That done (and hauing now attain'd, almost
Her iourneyes end) the little time she lost,
New speed regaines; The nimble ground she traces
With double hast, and quicke redoubled paces.
All on a sudden, she begins to faint;
Her bowells gripe, her breath begins to taint;
Her blistred tongue growes hot, her liuer glowes;
Her vaines doe boile, her colour comes and goes:
She staggers; falls; and on the ground she lyes;
Swels like a bladder; roares; and bursts; and dyes.
T'vntye the Glasse; lift vp her arme and tasted;
That done (and hauing now attain'd, almost
Her iourneyes end) the little time she lost,
New speed regaines; The nimble ground she traces
With double hast, and quicke redoubled paces.
All on a sudden, she begins to faint;
Her bowells gripe, her breath begins to taint;
Her blistred tongue growes hot, her liuer glowes;
Her vaines doe boile, her colour comes and goes:
45
Swels like a bladder; roares; and bursts; and dyes.
Thus from her ruine, Argalus deriues
His longer life, and by her death, he liues;
Liue Argalus, and let the gods allot
Such morning draughts to those that loue thee not:
Liue long; and let the righteous powers aboue,
That haue preseru'd thee for Parthenia's loue,
Crowne all thy hopes, and fortunes, with euent
Too sure, for second treasons to preuent.
His longer life, and by her death, he liues;
Liue Argalus, and let the gods allot
Such morning draughts to those that loue thee not:
Liue long; and let the righteous powers aboue,
That haue preseru'd thee for Parthenia's loue,
Crowne all thy hopes, and fortunes, with euent
Too sure, for second treasons to preuent.
By this time, did the lauish breath of Fame
Giue language to her Trumpet, and proclaime
Athleias death, the current of which newes
Truths warrant had forbidden to abuse
Deceiued eares: which, when the Lady heard,
Whose trecherous heart was greedily prepar'd
To entertaine a murther; she arose,
And with rude violence desperately throwes
Her trembling body, on the naked floore,
But what she said, and did, I will deplore,
Not vtter; but with forced silence smother,
Because she was the faire Parthenia's mother:
May it suffice, that the extreames of shame,
And vnresisted sorrow ouercame
Her disappointed malice; lesse lamenting
The treason, then successe; and more repenting
Of what she fail'd to doe, then what she did,
Her sullen soule dispaires; her thoughts forbid
What reason wants the power, to perswade;
Her griefes being growne too deepe for her to wade,
She sinks; and with a hollow sigh, she cryed,
Welcome thou easer of all euills; and dyed.
Giue language to her Trumpet, and proclaime
Athleias death, the current of which newes
Truths warrant had forbidden to abuse
Deceiued eares: which, when the Lady heard,
Whose trecherous heart was greedily prepar'd
To entertaine a murther; she arose,
And with rude violence desperately throwes
Her trembling body, on the naked floore,
But what she said, and did, I will deplore,
Not vtter; but with forced silence smother,
Because she was the faire Parthenia's mother:
May it suffice, that the extreames of shame,
And vnresisted sorrow ouercame
Her disappointed malice; lesse lamenting
The treason, then successe; and more repenting
Of what she fail'd to doe, then what she did,
Her sullen soule dispaires; her thoughts forbid
What reason wants the power, to perswade;
Her griefes being growne too deepe for her to wade,
She sinks; and with a hollow sigh, she cryed,
Welcome thou easer of all euills; and dyed.
46
Now tongues begin to walke; and euery eare
Hath got the Saturyasis to heare
This tragicke sceane: The breath of Fame grows bold
Feares no repulse, and scornes to be controlld,
Whilst lowd report, (whose tender lips before,
Durst onely whisper) now begins to roare;
The letter, found in dead Athleias brest,
Bewray'd the plot; and what (before) was guest,
Is now confirm'd, and clear'd: for all men knew
Whose hand it was, and whence the malice grew.
Hath got the Saturyasis to heare
This tragicke sceane: The breath of Fame grows bold
Feares no repulse, and scornes to be controlld,
Whilst lowd report, (whose tender lips before,
Durst onely whisper) now begins to roare;
The letter, found in dead Athleias brest,
Bewray'd the plot; and what (before) was guest,
Is now confirm'd, and clear'd: for all men knew
Whose hand it was, and whence the malice grew.
But haue we lost Parthenia? In what Isle
Of endlesse sorrow lurks she all this while?
Sweet Reader, vrge me not to tell, for feare
Thy heart dissolue, and melt into a teare.
Excuse my silence: If my lines should speake,
Such marble hearts, as could not melt, would break;
No, leaue her to her selfe: It is not fit
To write, what being read, you'd wish vnwrit:
I leaue the taske to those, that take delight,
To see poore Ladyes tortur'd in despight
Of all remorse; whose hearts are still at strife
To paint a torment to the very life.
I leaue that taske to such, as haue the powre
To weepe, and smile againe within an houre.
To those, whose flinty hearts are more contented
To limme a griefe, then pitty the tormented.
Let it suffice, that had not heauen protected
Her Argalus; the ioy whereof, corrected
That furious griefe, which passion recommended
To her sad thoughts, her story here had ended.
Of endlesse sorrow lurks she all this while?
Sweet Reader, vrge me not to tell, for feare
Thy heart dissolue, and melt into a teare.
Excuse my silence: If my lines should speake,
Such marble hearts, as could not melt, would break;
No, leaue her to her selfe: It is not fit
To write, what being read, you'd wish vnwrit:
I leaue the taske to those, that take delight,
To see poore Ladyes tortur'd in despight
Of all remorse; whose hearts are still at strife
To paint a torment to the very life.
I leaue that taske to such, as haue the powre
To weepe, and smile againe within an houre.
To those, whose flinty hearts are more contented
To limme a griefe, then pitty the tormented.
Let it suffice, that had not heauen protected
Her Argalus; the ioy whereof, corrected
That furious griefe, which passion recommended
To her sad thoughts, her story here had ended.
When Time (the enemy of Fame) had clos'd
Her babling lips, and gently had compos'd
Partheniaes sorrowes, raising from the ground
Her body, spent with griefe, and almost drownd
In her owne teares; a long expected Sceane
Of better fortune enters in, to dreane
His marish eyes: Her stormy night of teares
Being past, a welcome day of ioy appeares;
The rocke's remou'd, and loues wide Ocean now
Giues roome enough; lookes with a milder brow.
Reader forget thy sorrowes; Let thine eare
Welcome the tydings thou so longst to heare:
A louers diet's sweet, commixt with sower;
His hell and heauen, oft-time, diuides an houre.
Her babling lips, and gently had compos'd
47
Her body, spent with griefe, and almost drownd
In her owne teares; a long expected Sceane
Of better fortune enters in, to dreane
His marish eyes: Her stormy night of teares
Being past, a welcome day of ioy appeares;
The rocke's remou'd, and loues wide Ocean now
Giues roome enough; lookes with a milder brow.
Reader forget thy sorrowes; Let thine eare
Welcome the tydings thou so longst to heare:
A louers diet's sweet, commixt with sower;
His hell and heauen, oft-time, diuides an houre.
Now Argalus can finde a faire accesse
To his Parthenia: now, feares nothing lesse
Then eares and eyes; and now Partheniaes heart
Can giue her tongue the freedome, to impart
His louder welcome, whilst her greedy eye
Can looke her fill, and feare no stander by.
She's not Parthenia, he not present with her;
And he not Argalus, if not together.
Their cheeks are fill'd with smiles; their tongues with chat,
Now, this they make their subiect, and now that.
One while they laugh; and laughing wrangle too,
And iarre, as iealous louers vse to doe.
And then a kisse, must make them friends againe;
Faith, one's too little; Louers must haue twaine;
Two brings in ten; ten multiplyes to twenty;
That, to a hundred: then because the plenty
Growes troublesome to count, and does incumber
Their lips; their lips gaue kisses without number.
Their thoughts run backe to former times: they told
Of all loues passages, they had of old.
Of this thing done, the time, the place, and why;
The manner how; and who were present by;
The mothers craft; her vndeceiu'd suspition;
Her bated words; her marble disposition;
Her pining thoughts; and her proiecting feares;
Her soliloquies, and her secret teares;
Where first they met; Th'occasion of their meeting;
Their compliment; the manner of their greeting;
His danger; his deliuerance; and the reason
That first induc't the Agents to the treason.
Thus, by the priuiledge of time, and leisure;
Their sweet discourses (crown'd wth mutuall pleasure
Commixt with greife) they equall with the light,
And, after, grumble at the enuious night,
Which bids them part too soone: what, day denyde
In words, in thoughts, the tedious night supplyde,
Which blam'd the Fates for doing louers wrong,
To make the day so short; the night so long.
To his Parthenia: now, feares nothing lesse
Then eares and eyes; and now Partheniaes heart
Can giue her tongue the freedome, to impart
His louder welcome, whilst her greedy eye
Can looke her fill, and feare no stander by.
She's not Parthenia, he not present with her;
And he not Argalus, if not together.
Their cheeks are fill'd with smiles; their tongues with chat,
Now, this they make their subiect, and now that.
One while they laugh; and laughing wrangle too,
And iarre, as iealous louers vse to doe.
And then a kisse, must make them friends againe;
Faith, one's too little; Louers must haue twaine;
Two brings in ten; ten multiplyes to twenty;
That, to a hundred: then because the plenty
Growes troublesome to count, and does incumber
Their lips; their lips gaue kisses without number.
Their thoughts run backe to former times: they told
Of all loues passages, they had of old.
48
The manner how; and who were present by;
The mothers craft; her vndeceiu'd suspition;
Her bated words; her marble disposition;
Her pining thoughts; and her proiecting feares;
Her soliloquies, and her secret teares;
Where first they met; Th'occasion of their meeting;
Their compliment; the manner of their greeting;
His danger; his deliuerance; and the reason
That first induc't the Agents to the treason.
Thus, by the priuiledge of time, and leisure;
Their sweet discourses (crown'd wth mutuall pleasure
Commixt with greife) they equall with the light,
And, after, grumble at the enuious night,
Which bids them part too soone: what, day denyde
In words, in thoughts, the tedious night supplyde,
Which blam'd the Fates for doing louers wrong,
To make the day so short; the night so long.
But now the little winged god repented
That he had laught so much; his heart relented;
His very soule grew sad; his blinded eye
Began to weepe, at his owne tyranny;
Laments their sorrowes: finds a secret way,
To make the night as pleasing as the day.
Calls Hymen in, and in his eare discouers
The lingring torments of these wounded louers:
Giues him a charge, no longer to deferre,
T'engrosse their names, within his Register.
And now Partheniaes haruest draweth neare,
(The dearly earned price of many a teare)
Her ioy shal reape, what a world of griefe hath sown,
The time's appointed, and the day's set downe;
Wherein sweet Hymen, with his nuptiall bands
Shall ioyne together their espoused hands.
That he had laught so much; his heart relented;
His very soule grew sad; his blinded eye
Began to weepe, at his owne tyranny;
Laments their sorrowes: finds a secret way,
To make the night as pleasing as the day.
Calls Hymen in, and in his eare discouers
The lingring torments of these wounded louers:
Giues him a charge, no longer to deferre,
T'engrosse their names, within his Register.
And now Partheniaes haruest draweth neare,
(The dearly earned price of many a teare)
Her ioy shal reape, what a world of griefe hath sown,
The time's appointed, and the day's set downe;
49
Shall ioyne together their espoused hands.
Here stop my Muse: Retire thy selfe, and stay,
To gather breath against the mariage day.
To gather breath against the mariage day.
Readers, the ioyfull Bride salutes yee all;
In her behalfe, if any haue let fall
A tender teare; to those, she makes request,
That they'd be pleas'd to grace her mariage feast.
In her behalfe, if any haue let fall
A tender teare; to those, she makes request,
That they'd be pleas'd to grace her mariage feast.
The end of the first Booke.
| Argalvs and Parthenia | |