Tragicall Tales translated by Tvrbervile In time of his troubles out of sundrie Italians, with the Argument and Lenuoye to eche Tale |
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A louer deceiued, exclaimes against the deceiuer and hir kind.
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 | Tragicall Tales translated by Tvrbervile |  |
A louer deceiued, exclaimes against the deceiuer and hir kind.
How
much a wretch is he
that doth affie so well
In womans words, and in hir hart
doth lodge his loue to dwell?
Beleeues hir outward glee,
and fickle termes to trust,
And doth without regard of time,
apply to womans lust?
Sith that hir wandring will,
and most vnstable mind:
Doth daily tosse and turne about,
as leaues amid the wind.
Who lothes hir most, she loues,
and him that sues for grace,
She sharply shuns, and proudly scornes,
and ebbes and flowes apace.
that doth affie so well
In womans words, and in hir hart
doth lodge his loue to dwell?
Beleeues hir outward glee,
and fickle termes to trust,
And doth without regard of time,
apply to womans lust?
Sith that hir wandring will,
and most vnstable mind:
Doth daily tosse and turne about,
as leaues amid the wind.
Who lothes hir most, she loues,
and him that sues for grace,
178
and ebbes and flowes apace.
O gods what haue I done?
alas, at length I spie:
My former follies, and discerne
how much I marcht awry.
To plant assured trust,
in tickle womans brest:
That Tygerlike sance mercy liues,
and euer shuns the best.
And yet she knowes I loue,
and how I waste away:
And that my hart may haue no rest,
nor quiet night or day.
Which sith to hir is knowen,
and how I hold hir chiefe:
Why cruell and vnkind, doth she
not pitie of my griefe?
alas, at length I spie:
My former follies, and discerne
how much I marcht awry.
To plant assured trust,
in tickle womans brest:
That Tygerlike sance mercy liues,
and euer shuns the best.
And yet she knowes I loue,
and how I waste away:
And that my hart may haue no rest,
nor quiet night or day.
Which sith to hir is knowen,
and how I hold hir chiefe:
Why cruell and vnkind, doth she
not pitie of my griefe?
Who is so perfect wise,
that may such malice brooke,
Of womans proud disdaine,
or beare their braules with quiet looke?
Without an open shew
of lothsome lurking smart:
That racks the ribs, that beates the brest,
and plagues the pensiue hart.
O me vnhappy wight,
most wofull wretch of all,
How do I lose my libertie,
and yeeld my selfe a thrall.
In seruing hir, that cleane
against all law and right:
Consumes my life, destroyes my days,
and robs my reason quite.
O loue, cut off hir course,
and bridle such a dame:
As skornes thy skill, and leaues thy laws,
and makes my griefe hir game.
If (as I deeme) thou be,
the soueraigne of the skies:
Of Elements and Nature eke,
that all in order ties.
Wreake both thy wrong sustaind,
and eke thy damage done
To me, on hir, whom flatly thou,
perceiuest vs both to shun.
Conuert hir frosen hart,
to coles of scalding fire
Where rigor raigns, and enuie dwels,
with poisoned wrathfull ire.
that may such malice brooke,
Of womans proud disdaine,
or beare their braules with quiet looke?
Without an open shew
of lothsome lurking smart:
That racks the ribs, that beates the brest,
and plagues the pensiue hart.
O me vnhappy wight,
most wofull wretch of all,
[178]
and yeeld my selfe a thrall.
In seruing hir, that cleane
against all law and right:
Consumes my life, destroyes my days,
and robs my reason quite.
O loue, cut off hir course,
and bridle such a dame:
As skornes thy skill, and leaues thy laws,
and makes my griefe hir game.
If (as I deeme) thou be,
the soueraigne of the skies:
Of Elements and Nature eke,
that all in order ties.
Wreake both thy wrong sustaind,
and eke thy damage done
To me, on hir, whom flatly thou,
perceiuest vs both to shun.
Conuert hir frosen hart,
to coles of scalding fire
Where rigor raigns, and enuie dwels,
with poisoned wrathfull ire.
She, cruell, knowes my loue,
and how as Saint, I shrine
Hir beautie in my brest,
and how with pearcing pains I pine:
And how a thousand times,
each day I die, she knowes,
Yet mercilesse, no mercy she,
nor signe of sorow showes.
She bound me to the stake,
to broile amid the brands:
At point to die a Martyrs death,
all which she understands.
Yea, though she know it well,
yet she conceiues a ioy:
At all my bitter grief, and glads
hir selfe with mine annoy.
O most disloyall dame,
O bloudy brested wight:
O thou, that hast consumd by care,
my hart and courage quite.
O thou for treason that
Iugurtha, and the Iew
Doest far excell, and from thy friend,
withholdst thy fauour dew.
O traiterous of thy troth,
of all good nature bare:
Loe here of my poore wounded hart,
the gash cut in by care.
I see thou seest my sore,
and yet thou wilt be blind:
Thou stopst thine eares, and wilt not hear
the griefs that I do find.
and how as Saint, I shrine
Hir beautie in my brest,
and how with pearcing pains I pine:
And how a thousand times,
each day I die, she knowes,
179
nor signe of sorow showes.
She bound me to the stake,
to broile amid the brands:
At point to die a Martyrs death,
all which she understands.
Yea, though she know it well,
yet she conceiues a ioy:
At all my bitter grief, and glads
hir selfe with mine annoy.
O most disloyall dame,
O bloudy brested wight:
O thou, that hast consumd by care,
my hart and courage quite.
O thou for treason that
Iugurtha, and the Iew
Doest far excell, and from thy friend,
withholdst thy fauour dew.
O traiterous of thy troth,
of all good nature bare:
Loe here of my poore wounded hart,
the gash cut in by care.
I see thou seest my sore,
and yet thou wilt be blind:
Thou stopst thine eares, and wilt not hear
the griefs that I do find.
Where is become thy loue,
and ancient great good will:
That earst was borne? wheres that desire
that forst thee to fulfill
Thy pleasures past with me
in cabbin where we lay?
What is become of those delights?
where is that sugred play?
Wheres all that daliance now,
and profers proudly made?
Wheres those imbrasings friendly,
where is that blessed trade
And signs of perfit loue,
which then thou putst in vre?
And which for any gift of mine,
mought yet right well endure.
and ancient great good will:
[180]
that forst thee to fulfill
Thy pleasures past with me
in cabbin where we lay?
What is become of those delights?
where is that sugred play?
Wheres all that daliance now,
and profers proudly made?
Wheres those imbrasings friendly,
where is that blessed trade
And signs of perfit loue,
which then thou putst in vre?
And which for any gift of mine,
mought yet right well endure.
Full shadowlike they shift,
and can no longer bide:
Like dust before the wind they flie,
your other mate doth guide.
And strikes so great a stroke,
he wrests your wits as round
As flittering leaues, that from the Ashe
or pine are shaken downe.
Full lightly womans loue,
is altred euermore:
It may not last, there is exchange
continually in store.
And reason: For by kind
a woman is but light,
Which makes that fansie from hir brest,
is apt to take hir flight.
and can no longer bide:
Like dust before the wind they flie,
your other mate doth guide.
And strikes so great a stroke,
he wrests your wits as round
As flittering leaues, that from the Ashe
or pine are shaken downe.
Full lightly womans loue,
is altred euermore:
It may not last, there is exchange
continually in store.
And reason: For by kind
a woman is but light,
181
is apt to take hir flight.
I had good hope at first,
when hap did me assure,
To like of thee, that this thy loue,
was planted to endure.
I neuer feard a fall,
on ground that lay so greene:
Where path was plaine for me to passe,
and bottom to be seene.
I doubted no decay,
nor feard no after smart:
Thy beautie did me not despaire,
thy lookes assured thy hart.
But who beleeues the lookes
of any of your race,
May soone deceiue himselfe,
There lies no credite in the face.
Well, sith thy froward mind,
doth like to heare my mone:
And mine vnhappy planet giues
consent, that I alone,
Without thy loue shall liue,
and lacke the lampe of light:
To cleare mine eies, that far excels
all other stars in sight.
Unto the hawtie skies,
and people here below:
I will my griping griefs expresse,
and surge of sorowes show.
In hope that direfull death,
with dreadfull dart of force:
Will couch my carcase in the graue,
and there conuey my corse.
when hap did me assure,
To like of thee, that this thy loue,
was planted to endure.
I neuer feard a fall,
on ground that lay so greene:
Where path was plaine for me to passe,
and bottom to be seene.
I doubted no decay,
nor feard no after smart:
Thy beautie did me not despaire,
thy lookes assured thy hart.
But who beleeues the lookes
of any of your race,
May soone deceiue himselfe,
There lies no credite in the face.
Well, sith thy froward mind,
doth like to heare my mone:
And mine vnhappy planet giues
consent, that I alone,
Without thy loue shall liue,
and lacke the lampe of light:
To cleare mine eies, that far excels
all other stars in sight.
Unto the hawtie skies,
and people here below:
[180]
and surge of sorowes show.
In hope that direfull death,
with dreadfull dart of force:
Will couch my carcase in the graue,
and there conuey my corse.
| Tragicall Tales translated by Tvrbervile | |