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BRITTAIN'S IDA.


345

BRITTAIN'S IDA.

Written by that Renoned Poët, Edmond Spencer.

TO THE RIGHT Noble Lady MARY, Daughter to the most Illustrious Prince George, Duke of Buckingham.

346

Martial.

Accipe facundi culicem studiose
Maronis,
Ne nugis positis, arma virumque
Canas.

Se here that stately Muse, that erst could raise,
In lasting numbers great Elizaes praise,
And dresse faire Vertue in so rich attire,
That even her Foes were forced to admire,
And court her Heavenly beauty, shee that taught
The Graces grace, and made the Vertues thought
More vertuous then before, is pleased here,
To slacke her serious flight, and feed your eare
With loves delightsome toyes; doe not refuse
These harmlesse sports; 't is learned Spencer's Muse;
But thinke his loosest Poëms worthier then
The serious follies of unskillfull men.

347

Brittain's Ida.

Cant. 1.

The Argument.

The youthly Shepheards wonning here,
And Beauties rare displayd appeare:
What exercise hee chiefe affects,
His Name, and scornefull love neglects.

1

In Ida Vale (who knowes not Ida Vale?)
When harmelesse Troy yet felt not Græcian spite:
A hundred Shepheards woon'd, and in the Dale,
While their faire Flockes the three leav'd Pastures bite:
The Shepheards boyes, with hundred sportings light,
Gave winges unto the times to speedy hast:
Ah foolish Lads, that strove with lavish wast,
So fast to spend the time, that spends your time as fast.

2

Among the rest that all the rest excel'd,
A dainty Boy there wonn'd, whose harmelesse yeares,
Now in their freshest budding gently sweld;
His Nimph-like face ne're felt the nimble sheeres,
Youth's downy blossome through his cheeke appeares:
His lovely limbes (but love he quite discarded)
Were made for play (but he no play regarded,)
And fit love to reward, and with love be rewarded.

348

3

High was his fore-head, arch't with silver mould,
(Where never anger churlish rinkle dighted)
His auburne lockes hung like darke threds of gold,
That wanton aires (with their faire length incited)
To play among their wanton curles delighted.
His smiling eyes with simple truth were stor'd:
Ah! how should truth in those thiefe eyes be stor'd,
Which thousand loves had stol'n, and never one restor'd.

4

His lilly-cheeke might seeme an Ivory plaine,
More purely white than frozen Apenine:
Where lovely bashfulnesse did sweetely raine,
In blushing scarlet cloth'd, and purple fine.
A hundred hearts had this delightfull shrine,
(Still cold it selfe) inflam'd with hot desire,
That well the face might seeme, in divers tire,
To be a burning snow, or else a freezing fire.

5

His cheerefull lookes, and merry face would proove,
(If eyes the index be where thoughts are read)
A dainty play-fellow for naked love;
Of all the other parts enough is sed,
That they were fit twins for so fayre a head:
Thousand boyes for him, thousand maidens dy'de,
Dye they that list, for such his rigorous pride,
He thousand boyes (ah foole) and thousand maids deni'd.

6

His joy was not in musiques sweete delight,
(Though well his hand had learnt that cunning arte)
Or dainty songs to daintier eares indite;
But through the plaines to chace the nimble Hart,
With well tun'd hounds; or with his certaine dart,
The tusked Boare, or savage Beare to wound;
Meane time his heart with monsters doth abound,
Ah foole to seeke so farre what neerer might be found!

349

7

His name (well knowne unto those Woody shades,
Where unrewarded lovers oft complaine them)
Anchises was; Anchises oft the glades,
And mountaines heard Anchises had disdain'd them;
Not all their love one gentle looke had gain'd them,
That rockey hills, with echoing noyse consenting,
Anchises plain'd; but he no whit relenting,
(Harder then rocky hils) laught at their vaine lamenting.

Cant. 2.

The Argument.

Diones Garden of delight,
With wonder holds Anchises sight;
While from the Bower such Musique sounds,
As all his senses neere confounds.

1

One day it chanc't as hee the Deere persude,
Tyred with sport, and faint with weary play,
Faire Venus grove not farre away he view'd,
Whose trembling leaves invite him there to stay,
And in their shades his sweating limbes display:
There in the cooling glade he softly paces,
And much delighted with their even spaces,
What in himselfe he scorn'd, hee prais'd their kinde imbraces.

2

The Woode with Paphian mirtles peopled,
(Whose springing youth felt never Winters spiting)
To laurels sweete were sweetely married,
Doubling their pleasing smels in their uniting,
When single much, much more when mixt delighting:
No foote of beast durst touch this hallowed place,
And many a boy that long'd the woods to trace,
Entred with feare, but soone turn'd back his frighted face.

350

3

The thicke-lockt bowes shut out the tell-tale Sunne,
(For Venus hated his all blabbing light,
Since her knowne fault which oft she wisht undone)
And scattered rayes did make a doubtfull sight,
Like to the first of day, or last of night:
The fittest light for Lovers gentle play;
Such light best shewes the wandring lovers way,
And guides his erring hand: Night is loves holly-day.

4

So farre in this sweete Labyrinth he stray'd,
That now he viewes the Garden of delight;
Whose breast, with thousand painted flowers array'd,
With divers joy captiv'd his wandring sight;
But soone the eyes rendred the eares their right:
For such strange harmony he seem'd to heare,
That all his senses flockt into his eare,
And every faculty wisht to be seated there.

5

From a close Bower this dainty Musique flow'd,
A Bower appareld round with divers Roses
Both red and white; which by their liveries show'd
Their Mistris faire, that there her selfe reposes:
Seem'd that would strive with those rare Musique clozes,
By spreading their faire bosomes to the light,
Which the distracted sense should most delight;
That, raps the melted eare; this, both the smel & sight.

6

The Boy 'twixt fearefull hope, and wishing feare,
Crept all along (for much he long'd to see
The Bower, much more the guest so lodged there)
And as he goes, he markes how well agree
Nature and arte in discord unity:
Each striving who should best performe his part,
Yet arte now helping nature; nature arte:
While from his eares a voyce thus stole [into] his heart.

351

7

Fond men, whose wretched care the life soone ending,
By striving to i[n]crease your joy, do spend it;
And spending joy, yet find no joy in spending:
You hurt your life by striving to amend it,
And seeking to prolong it, soonest end it:
Than while fit time affords thee time and leasure,
Enjoy while yet thou mayst thy lifes sweet pleasure:
Too foolish is the man that starves to feed his treasure:

8

Love is lifes end (an end but never ending)
All joyes, all sweetes, all happinesse awarding:
Love is life[s] wealth (nere spent, but ever spending)
More rich, by giving, taking by discarding:
Love's lifes reward, rewarded in rewarding,
Then from thy wretched heart fond care remoove;
Ah should thou live but once loves sweetes to proove,
Thou wilt not love to live, unlesse thou live to love.

9

To this sweete voyce, a dainty musique fitted
Its well-tun'd strings; and to her notes consorted:
And while with skilfull voyce the song she dittied,
The blabbing Echo had her words retorted;
That now the Boy, beyond his soule transported,
Through all his limbes feeles run a pleasant shaking,
And twixt a hope & feare suspects mistaking,
And doubts he sleeping dreames, & broad awake feares waking.

352

Cant. 3.

The Argument.

Faire Cythareas limbes beheld,
The straying Lads heart so inthral'd:
That in a Trance his melted spright,
Leaves th' sences slumbring in delight.

1

Now to the Bower hee sent his thevish eyes,
To steale a happy sight; there doe they finde
Faire Venus, that within halfe naked lyes;
And straight amaz'd (so glorious beauty shin'd)
Would not returne the message to the minde:
But full of feare, and superstitious awe,
Could not retire, or backe their beames with-draw,
So fixt on too much seeing made they nothing saw.

2

Her goodly length, stretch't on a Lilly-bed;
(A bright foyle of a beauty farre more bright,)
Few Roses round about were scattered,
As if the Lillies learnt to blush for spite,
To see a skinne much more then Lilly-white:
The bed sanke with delight so to be pressed,
And knew not which to thinke a chance more blessed,
Both blessed so to kisse, and so agayne be kissed.

3

Her spacious fore-head like the clearest Moone,
Whose full-growne Orbe begins now to be spent,
Largely display'd in native silver shone,
Giving wide roome to beauties Regiment,
Which on the plaine with love tryumphing went:
Her golden haire a rope of pearle imbraced,
Which with their dainty threds oft times enlaced,
Made the eie think the pearle was there in gold inchased.

353

4

Her full large eye, in jetty-blacke array'd,
Prov'd beauty not confin'd to red and white,
But oft her selfe in blacke more rich display'd;
Both contraries did yet themselves unite,
To make one beauty in different delight:
A thousand loves sate playing in each eye,
And smiling mirth kissing faire courtesie,
By sweete perswasion wan a bloodlesse victory.

5

The whitest white set by her silver cheeke,
Grew pale and wan like unto heavy lead:
The freshest Purple fresher dyes must seeke,
That dares compare with them his fainting red:
On these Cupi[d]o winged armies led,
Of little loves, that with bold wanton traine
Under those colours, marching on the plaine,
Force every heart, and to low vasselage constraine.

6

Her lips, most happy each in others kisses,
From their so wisht imbracements seldome parted,
Yet seem'd to blush at such their wanton blisses;
But when sweete words their joyning sweet disparted,
To th' eare a dainty musique they imparted:
Upon them fitly sate delightfull smiling,
A thousand soules with pleasing stealth beguiling:
Ah that such shew's of joyes should be all joyes exiling?

7

The breath came slowly thence, unwilling leaving
So sweet a lodge, but when she once intended,
To feast the aire with words, the heart deceiving,
More fast it thronged so to be expended;
And at each word a hundred loves attended,
Playing ith' breath, more sweete then is that firing,
Where that Arabian onely bird expiring,
Lives by her death, by losse of breath more fresh respiring.

354

8

Her chin, like to a stone in gold inchased,
Seem'd a faire jewell wrought with cunning hand,
And being double, doubly the face graced.
This goodly frame on her round necke did stand,
Such pillar well such curious worke sustain'd;
And on his top the heavenly spheare up rearing,
Might well present, with daintier appearing,
A lesse but better Atlas, that faire heaven bearing.

9

Lower two breasts stand all their beauties bearing,
Two breasts as smooth and soft; but ah alas!
Their smoothest softnes farre exceedes comparing:
More smooth and soft; but naught that ever was,
Where they are first deserves the second place:
Yet each as soft and each as smooth as other;
And whē thou first tri'st one & thē the other,
Each softer seemes then each, & each then each seemes smoother.

10

Lowly betweene their dainty hemisphæres,
(Their hemisphæres the heav'nly Globes excelling,)
A path, more white then is the name it beares,
The lacteall path conducts to the sweet dwelling,
Where best delight all joyes sits freely dealing;
Where hundred sweetes, and still fresh joyes attending;
Receive in giving, and still love dispending,
Grow richer by their losse, and wealthy by expending.

11

But stay bold shepheard, here thy footing stay,
Nor trust too much unto thy n[e]w-borne quill,
As farther to those dainty limbes to stray;
Or hope to paint that vale, or beautious hill,
Which past the finest hand and choycest skill:
But were thy Verse and Song as finely fram'd,
As are those parts, yet should it soone be blam'd,
For now the shameless world of best things is asham'd.

355

12

That cunning Artist, that old Greece admir'd,
Thus farre his Venus fitly portrayed;
But there he left, nor farther ere aspir'd:
His Dædale hand, that Nature perfected
By arte, felt arte by nature limitted.
Ah! well he knew, though his fit hand could give
Breath to dead colours, teaching marble live,
Yet would these lively parts his hand of skill deprive.

13

Such when this gentle boy her closly view'd,
Onely with thinnest silken vaile o'er-layd,
Whose snowy colour much more snowy shew'd,
By being next that skin; and all betray'd,
Which best in naked beauties are aray'd:
His spirits melted with so glorious sight,
Ran from their worke to see so splendent light,
And left the fainting limbes sweet slumbring in delight.

Cant. 4.

The Argument.

The swo[u]nding Swaine recovered is
By th' Goddesse; his soule rapting blisse:
There mutuàll conference, and how
Her service she doth him allow.

1

Soft-sleeping Venus waked with the fall,
Looking behind, the sinking Boy espies,
With all she starts, and wondereth withall,
She thinkes that there her faire Adonis dyes,
And more she thinkes the more the Boy she eyes:
So stepping neerer, up begins to reare him;
And now with love himselfe she will confer him,
And now, before her love himselfe she will preferre him.

356

2

The Lad soone with that dainty touch reviv'd
Feeling himselfe so well, so sweetly seated,
Begins to doubt whether he yet here liv'd,
Or else his flitting soule to heav'n translated,
Was there in starry throne, and blisse instated:
Oft would he dye, so to be often saved;
And now with happy wish he closly craved,
For ever to be dead, to be so sweet ingraved.

3

The Paphian Princesse (in whose lovely breast,
Spitefull disdaine could never find a place)
When now she saw him from his fit releast,
(To Juno leaving wrath, and scolding base)
Comforts the trembling Boy with smiling grace,
But oh! those smiles (too full of sweete delight)
Surfeit his heart, full of the former sight;
So seeking to revive, more wounds his feeble sprite.

4

Tell me faire Boy (sayd she) what erring chance,
Hither directed thy unwary pace:
For sure contempt, or pride durst not advance
Their foule aspect, in thy so pleasant face:
Tell me, what brought thee to this hidden place?
Or lacke of love, or mutuall answering fire,
Or hindred by ill chance in thy desire:
Tell me, what ist thy faire and wishing eyes require?

5

The Boy (whose sence was never yet acquainted
With such a musique) stood with eares arected;
And sweetly with that pleasant spell enchanted,
More of those sugred straines long time expected,
Till seeing she his speeches not rejected,
First sighes arising from his hearts low center,
Thus gan reply; when each word bold would venter,
And strive the first, that dainty labyrinth to enter,

357

6

Faire Cyprian Queene (for well that heavenly face
Prooves thee the mother of all conquering love)
Pardon I pray thee my unweeting pace,
For no presumptuous thoughts did hither moove
My daring feete, to this thy holy Grove;
But lucklesse chance (which if you not gaine-say,
I still must rue) hath caus'd me here to stray,
And lose my selfe (alas) in losing of my way.

7

Nor did I come to right my wronged fire,
Never till now I saw what ought be loved,
And now I see, but never dare aspire
To moove my hope, where yet my love is mooved;
Whence though I would, I would it not remooved:
Onely since I have plac't my love so high,
Which sure thou must, or sure thou wilt deny,
Grant me yet still to love, though in my love to dye.

8

But shee that in his eyes Loves face had seene,
And flaming heart, did not such suite disdaine,
(For cruelty fits not sweete beauties Queene)
But gently could his passion entertaine,
Though she loves Princesse, he a lowly Swaine:
First of his bold intrusion she acquites him;
Then to her service (happy Boy) admits him;
And like another love, with Bow and quiver fits him.

9

And now [with all] the loves he grew acquainted,
And Cupids selfe, with his like face delighted,
Taught him a hundred wayes with which he daunted
The prouder hearts, and wronged lovers righted,
Forcing to love, that most his love despited.
And now the practique Boy did so approove him,
And with such grace and cunning arte did moove him,
That all the pritty loves, and all the Graces love him.

358

Cant. 5.

The Argument.

The Lovers sad despairing plaints,
Bright Venus with his love acquaints;
Sweetly importun'd he doth shew,
From whom proceedeth this his woe.

1

Yet never durst his faint and coward heart,
(Ah foole! faint heart faire Lady ne're could win)
Assaile faire Venus with his new-learnt arte,
But kept his love, and burning flame within,
Which more flam'd out, the more he prest it in:
And thinki[n]g oft, how just shee might disdaine him;
While some coole mirtle shade did entertaine him,
Thus sighing would he sit, & sadly would he plain him.

2

Ah fond, and haplesse Boy! nor know I whether,
More fond, or haplesse more, that all so high
Hast plac't thy heart, where love and fate together,
May never hope to end thy misery,
Nor yet thy selfe dare wish a remedy.
All hindrances (alas) conspire to let it;
Ah fond, and haplesse Boy! if canst not get it,
In thinking to forget, at length learne to forget it.

3

Ah farre too fond, but much more haplesse Swaine!
Seeing thy love can be forgotten never.
Serve and observe thy love with willing paine;
And though in vaine thy love thou doe persever,
Yet all in vaine doe thou adore her ever.
No hope can crowne thy thoughts so farre aspiring,
Nor dares thy selfe desire thine owne desiring,
Yet live thou in her love, and dye in her admiring.

359

4

Thus oft the hopelesse Boy complayning lyes;
But she that well could guesse his sad lamenting,
(Who can conceale love from loves mothers eyes?)
Did not disdaine to give his love contenting:
Cruell the soule, that feedes on soules tormenting:
Nor did she scorne him though not nobly borne,
(Love is nobility) nor could she scorne,
That with so noble skill her title did adorne.

5

One day it chanc't, thrice happy day and chance!
While loves were with the Graces sweetly sporting,
And to fresh musique sounding play and dance;
And Cupids selfe with Shepheards boyes consorting,
Laught at their pritty sport, and simple courting:
Faire Venus seates the fearefull Boy close by her,
Where never Phœbus Jealous lookes might eye her,
And bids the Boy his Mistris, and her name descry her.

6

Long time the youth bound up in silence stood,
While hope and feare with hundred thoughts begun,
Fit Prologue to his speech; and fearefull blood
From heart and face, with these post-tydings runne,
That eyther now he's made, or now undone:
At length his trembling words, with feare made weake,
Began his too long silence thus to breake,
While from his humble eies first reverence seem'd to speake.

7

Faire Queene of Love, my life thou maist command,
Too slender price for all thy former grace,
Which I receive at thy so bounteous hand;
But never dare I speake her name and face;
My life is much lesse-priz'd than her disgrace:
And, for I know if I her name relate,
I purchase anger, I must hide her state,
Unlesse thou sweare by stix I purchase not her hate.

360

8

Faire Venus well perceiv'd his subtile shift,
And swearing gentle patience, gently smil'd:
While thus the Boy persu'd his former drift:
No tongue was ever yet so sweetely skil'd,
Nor greatest Orator so highly stil'd;
Though helpt [with all] the choisest artes direction,
But when he durst describe her heav'ns perfection,
By his imperfect praise, disprais'd his imperfection.

9

Her forme is as her selfe, perfect Cælestriall,
No mortall spot her heavenly frame disgraces:
Beyond compare; such nothing is terrestriall;
More sweete then thought or pow'rfull wish embraces,
The map of heaven; the summe of all the Graces.
But if you wish more truely limb'd to eye her,
Than fainting speech, or words can well descry her,
Look in a glasse, & there more perfect you may spy her.

Cant. 6.

The Argument.

The Boyes short wish, her larger grant,
That doth his soule with blisse enchant:
Whereof impatient uttering all,
Inraged Jove contrives his thrall.

1

Thy crafty arte (reply'd the smiling Queene)
Hath well my chiding, and [h]ot rage prevented,
Yet might'st thou thinke, that yet 'twas never seene,
That angry rage, and gentle love consented:
But if to me thy true love is presented,
What wages for thy service must I owe thee?
For by the selfe same vow, I here avow thee,
What ever thou require, I frankly will allow thee.

361

2

Pardon (replies the Boy) for so affecting,
Beyond mortallity; and not discarding,
Thy service was much more than my expecting;
But if thou (more thy bounty-hood regarding)
Wilt needes heape up reward upon rewarding;
Thy love I dare not aske, or mutuall fi[r]ing,
One kisse is all my love, and prides aspiring,
And after starve my heart, for my too much desiring.

3

Fond Boy! (sayd she) too fond that askt no more;
Thy want by taking is no whit decreased,
And giving, spends not our increasing store:
Thus with a kisse, his lips she sweetly pressed;
Most blessed kisse; but hope more than most blessed,
The Boy did thinke heaven fell while thus he joy'd;
And while joy he so greedily enjoy'd,
He felt not halfe his joy by being over-joy'd.

4

Why sighst faire Boy? (sayd she) dost thou repent thee
Thy narrow wish in such straight bonds to stay?
Well may I sigh (sayd he) and well lament me,
That never such a debt may hope to pay:
A kisse (sayd she) a kisse will backe repay:
Wilt thou (reply'd the Boy too much delighted)
Content thee, with such pay to be requited?
She grants; & he his lips, heart, soule, to payment cited.

5

Looke as a Ward, long from his Lands detain'd,
And subject to his Guardians cruel lore,
Now spends the more, the more he was restrain'd,
So he; yet though in laying out his store,
He doubly takes; yet findes himselfe grow poore:
With that, he markes, and tels her out a score,
And doubles them, and trebles all before:
Fond Boy! the more thou paist, thy debt still grows the more.

362

6

At length, whether these favours so had fir'd him,
With kindly heate, inflaming his desiring;
Or whether those sweete kisses had inspir'd him;
Hee thinkes that some thing wants for his requiring;
And still aspires, yet knows not his aspiring:
But yet though that hee knoweth, so she gave,
That he presents himselfe her bounden slave;
Stil his more wishing face seem'd some what else to crave.

7

And boldned with successe and many graces,
His hand, chain'd up in feare, he now releast:
And asking leave, courag'd with her imbraces;
Againe it prison'd in her tender breast;
Ah blessed prison! prisners too much blest!
There with those sisters long time doth he play;
And now full boldly enters loves high way;
While downe the pleasant vale, his creeping hand doth stray.

8

She not displeased with this his wanton play,
Hiding his blushing with a sugred kisse;
With such sweete heat his rudenesse doth allay,
That now he perfect knowes what ever blisse,
Elder love taught, and he before did misse:
That moult with joy, in such untri'd joyes trying,
He gladly dies; and death new life applying,
Gladly againe he dyes, that oft he may be dying.

9

Long thus he liv'd, slumbring in sweete delight,
Free from sad care, and fickle worlds annoy;
Bathing in liquid joyes his melted sprite;
And longer mought, but he (ah foolish Boy!)
Too proud, and to impatient of his joy,
To woods, and heav'n, and earth his blisse imparted;
That Jove upon him downe his thunder darted,
Blasting his splendent face, and all his beauty swarted.

363

10

Such be his chance, that to his love doth wrong,
Unworthy he to have so worthy place,
That cannot hold his peace and blabbing tongue:
Light joyes float on his lips, but rightly grace
Sinckes deepe, and th' hearts low center doth imbrace:
Might I enjoy my love till I unfold it,
I'de lose all favours when I blabbing told it:
He is not fit for love, that is not fit to hold it.
FINIS.