The Lamentations of Amyntas for the death of Phillis paraphrastically translated out of Latine into English Hexameters by Abraham Fraunce |
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| 5. | The fyfth Lamentation |
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 | The Lamentations of Amyntas for the death of Phillis |  |
The fyfth Lamentation
Since Phillis buriall with due celebration ended,
Phœbus againe aduanct his blasing face fro the maynesea
And with morning Star dispelling night fro the heauens
Quickly the fifth time brought broad day light vnto Amyntas:
But yet Phillis in heart, in mind, and soule of Amyntas
Stil did abyde, and stil was Phillis mournd of Amyntas.
No care of driuing his goats and kidds to the mountains,
No care of folowing his sheepe and lambs to the pastures,
But dailight loathing, and dayes worke wonted abhorring,
Straight to the woods doth he walke, in no mans company walking,
Where hee the weeping flowre making al weary by weeping,
Vntuned speeches cast out, and desperat outcries,
Where, with sobs to the windes, with teares increase to the waters
Stil did he giue, and stil vayne loue most vaynly bewayled.
As louing Turtle seeing his lately beloued.
Turtle-doue thrown downe from tree, with a stone, with an arrow,
Can not abide sun-beames, but flies fro the fields, fro the meddows,
Vnto the darkest woods, and there his desolat harbor
Makes in a Cypres tree, with lightning all to be scortched,
Or with Winters rage and blacke storms fowly defaced:
Where on a rotten bow his lyms all heauy reposing,
Stil doth he grone for griefe, stil mourne for his onely beloued,
Then consum'd with grieuous pangs, and weary with anguish,
Down to the groūd doth he fal with fainting wings fro the barebow,
Beating dust with wings, and feathers fowly beeraying,
Beating breast with beack til bloud come freshly abounding,
Till lyfe gushing forth with bloud goe ioyntly together,
So did Amyntas mourne, such true loue made him a mourner.
Phœbus againe aduanct his blasing face fro the maynesea
And with morning Star dispelling night fro the heauens
Quickly the fifth time brought broad day light vnto Amyntas:
But yet Phillis in heart, in mind, and soule of Amyntas
Stil did abyde, and stil was Phillis mournd of Amyntas.
No care of driuing his goats and kidds to the mountains,
No care of folowing his sheepe and lambs to the pastures,
But dailight loathing, and dayes worke wonted abhorring,
Straight to the woods doth he walke, in no mans company walking,
Where hee the weeping flowre making al weary by weeping,
Vntuned speeches cast out, and desperat outcries,
Where, with sobs to the windes, with teares increase to the waters
Stil did he giue, and stil vayne loue most vaynly bewayled.
As louing Turtle seeing his lately beloued.
Turtle-doue thrown downe from tree, with a stone, with an arrow,
Can not abide sun-beames, but flies fro the fields, fro the meddows,
Vnto the darkest woods, and there his desolat harbor
Makes in a Cypres tree, with lightning all to be scortched,
Or with Winters rage and blacke storms fowly defaced:
Where on a rotten bow his lyms all heauy reposing,
Stil doth he grone for griefe, stil mourne for his onely beloued,
Then consum'd with grieuous pangs, and weary with anguish,
Down to the groūd doth he fal with fainting wings fro the barebow,
Beating dust with wings, and feathers fowly beeraying,
Beating breast with beack til bloud come freshly abounding,
Till lyfe gushing forth with bloud goe ioyntly together,
So did Amyntas mourne, such true loue made him a mourner.
O what a vyle boy's this, what a greeuous wound, what a weapon?
O what a dart is this that sticks so fast to my heart roote,
Like as roots to the trunck, or life as vine to the Elmetree,
Iuy ioynd to the walls, or greene mos cleeues to the foule ponds,
O pitiles lous-god: poore louers how be we plagued?
O strong dart of loue which each thing speedily pearceth
This dart God Saturne, God Mars, and great God of al Gods
Ioue himself did wound, vnles that fame doe beely them.
Although God Saturne were old and like to a crusht crabb,
Although Mars were armd with try'd, Vulcanian armour,
Although Ioue with fire and thunder maketh a rumbling.
Yea thine owne mother, thine owne inuincible arrow
Hurt: and prickt those papps which thou wast wont to be sucking.
Neither spar'st thou him that raigns in watery kingdome,
Neither spar'st thou him that rules in feareful Auernus,
Pluto know what it is with a paltery boy to be troubled,
Neptune knows what it is by a blinde boyes check to be mated.
Then since heauen, seas, and hell are nought by thee spared,
Earth and earth dwelling louers must looke to be pinched.
O what a dart is this that sticks so fast to my heart roote,
Like as roots to the trunck, or life as vine to the Elmetree,
Iuy ioynd to the walls, or greene mos cleeues to the foule ponds,
O strong dart of loue which each thing speedily pearceth
This dart God Saturne, God Mars, and great God of al Gods
Ioue himself did wound, vnles that fame doe beely them.
Although God Saturne were old and like to a crusht crabb,
Although Mars were armd with try'd, Vulcanian armour,
Although Ioue with fire and thunder maketh a rumbling.
Yea thine owne mother, thine owne inuincible arrow
Hurt: and prickt those papps which thou wast wont to be sucking.
Neither spar'st thou him that raigns in watery kingdome,
Neither spar'st thou him that rules in feareful Auernus,
Pluto know what it is with a paltery boy to be troubled,
Neptune knows what it is by a blinde boyes check to be mated.
Then since heauen, seas, and hell are nought by thee spared,
Earth and earth dwelling louers must looke to be pinched.
O what gaping earth wil Amintas greedily swallow,
O what goulf of Seas, and deepes, will quickly deuoure him?
And bring him lyuing to the deadmens souls in Auernus.
O what goulf of Seas, and deepes, will quickly deuoure him?
And bring him lyuing to the deadmens souls in Auernus.
Gods of skies (for loue hath pearst oft vp to the heauens)
Yf pity moue your harts, if you from stately Olympus
Can vouchsafe to behold these inward wounds of Amintas,
Free this troubled soule from cares and infinite anguish,
End these endles toyls, bring ease by my death to my deaths-wound.
Yf pity moue your harts, if you from stately Olympus
Can vouchsafe to behold these inward wounds of Amintas,
Free this troubled soule from cares and infinite anguish,
End these endles toyls, bring ease by my death to my deaths-wound.
O that I had then dy'd when Phillis liu'd with Amintas,
In fyelds when Phillis sang songs of loue with Amintas,
In fyelds when Phillis kist and embraced Amintas,
In fyelds when Phillis slept vnder a tree with Amintas,
Blest had Amintas beene, if death had taken Amintas,
So my Phillis might haue come and sate by my death-bed,
Closing these eye-lidds of dead, but blessed Amyntas,
Blest, that he dy'd in her arms, that his eyes were closd by her owne hands.
But what, alas, do I meane, for death thus still to be wishing
Foole that I am? For death coms quickly without any wishing.
Inward griefe of troubled soule hath brought me to deaths doore,
Woonted strength doth faile, my lyms are fainty with anguish,
Vitall heate is gone like vnto a smoke, to a vapor,
Yeasterday but a boy, and now grayheaded Amintas.
In fyelds when Phillis sang songs of loue with Amintas,
In fyelds when Phillis kist and embraced Amintas,
In fyelds when Phillis slept vnder a tree with Amintas,
Blest had Amintas beene, if death had taken Amintas,
So my Phillis might haue come and sate by my death-bed,
Closing these eye-lidds of dead, but blessed Amyntas,
Blest, that he dy'd in her arms, that his eyes were closd by her owne hands.
But what, alas, do I meane, for death thus still to be wishing
Foole that I am? For death coms quickly without any wishing.
Inward griefe of troubled soule hath brought me to deaths doore,
Woonted strength doth faile, my lyms are fainty with anguish,
Vitall heate is gone like vnto a smoke, to a vapor,
Yeasterday but a boy, and now grayheaded Amintas.
O luckles louers, how alwaies are wee beewitched?
What contrarieties, what fancyes flatly repugnant,
How many deaths, liues, hopes, feares, ioyes, cares stil do wee suffer?
O that I could forget Phillis, many times am I wishing,
O that I had dy'd, for Phillis, manie times am I wishing,
Thus distracted I am ten thousand times by my wishing.
Like to a shipp through whyrling goulfs vnsteadily passing,
Floating here and there, hence thence, with daunger on each side,
Fearing Scyllaes iawes, and mouth of greedy Charibdis:
Whylst by the rage of Sea brusd shipp sticks fast to the quick sands,
And by the mighty rebounding waues is lastly deuoured.
How many deaths, liues, hopes, feares, ioyes, cares stil do wee suffer?
O that I could forget Phillis, many times am I wishing,
O that I had dy'd, for Phillis, manie times am I wishing,
Thus distracted I am ten thousand times by my wishing.
Like to a shipp through whyrling goulfs vnsteadily passing,
Floating here and there, hence thence, with daunger on each side,
Fearing Scyllaes iawes, and mouth of greedy Charibdis:
Whylst by the rage of Sea brusd shipp sticks fast to the quick sands,
And by the mighty rebounding waues is lastly deuoured.
But what, alas, doe I meane mine olde loue stil to be mourning,
Forgetting pastures, and flocks, and vines by my mourning?
My naked pastures with fludds are like to bee drowned,
My fyelds vntilled with thorns are like to be pestred,
My poore sheepe and goats with cold are like to be pinched,
My prety black bullock wil come no more to my white cowe,
And by the swynes foule snout my vines are like to be rooted,
For want of walling, for want of customed hedging,
Ranck boughes in vinetree ther's no body now to be cutting,
Cutt boughs with wythy twiggs ther's no body now to bee binding,
Pecking pyes from grapes ther's no body now to bee keeping.
You rocks helpe to mourn: rocks, pynetrees loftily bearing:
You woods helpe me to mourne: woods alwayes wont to be silent:
You wells helpe me to mourne: wells cleare and like to the Christal:
Vines forlorne; forsaken shrubbs lament with Amintas:
On you rocks many times Phillis was woont to be walking,
In you woods many times Phillis was wont to be sitting,
With you wells many times Phillis was wont to be smyling,
And you vines and shrubbs Phillis was wont to be fingring.
Forgetting pastures, and flocks, and vines by my mourning?
My naked pastures with fludds are like to bee drowned,
My fyelds vntilled with thorns are like to be pestred,
My poore sheepe and goats with cold are like to be pinched,
My prety black bullock wil come no more to my white cowe,
And by the swynes foule snout my vines are like to be rooted,
For want of walling, for want of customed hedging,
Ranck boughes in vinetree ther's no body now to be cutting,
Cutt boughs with wythy twiggs ther's no body now to bee binding,
Pecking pyes from grapes ther's no body now to bee keeping.
You rocks helpe to mourn: rocks, pynetrees loftily bearing:
You woods helpe me to mourne: woods alwayes wont to be silent:
You wells helpe me to mourne: wells cleare and like to the Christal:
Vines forlorne; forsaken shrubbs lament with Amintas:
On you rocks many times Phillis was woont to be walking,
In you woods many times Phillis was wont to be sitting,
With you wells many times Phillis was wont to be smyling,
And you vines and shrubbs Phillis was wont to be fingring.
Now 'twas iust darknight, and home came seelly Amintas.
| The Lamentations of Amyntas for the death of Phillis | |