A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions Garnished and decked with diuers dayntie deuises, right delicate and delightfull, to recreate eche modest minde withall. First framed and fashioned in sundrie formes, by diuers worthy workemen of late dayes: and now, ioyned together and builded up: By T. P. [i.e. Thomas Procter] |
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 | A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions |  |
In
Babilon a stately seate, of high and mighty Kinges,
Whose famous voice of ancient rule, through all the world yet ringes:
Two great estates did whilom dwell: and places ioyned so,
As but one wall eche princely place, deuided other fro:
Whose famous voice of ancient rule, through all the world yet ringes:
Two great estates did whilom dwell: and places ioyned so,
As but one wall eche princely place, deuided other fro:
These Nobles two, two children had, for whom Dame Nature sought,
The deepest of her secret skill, or shee their byrth had wrought:
For as their yeares in one agreed, and beauty equall shone,
In bounty and lyke vertues all, so were they there all one.
And as it pleased Nature then, the one a sonne to frame,
So did the glad olde Father like him Pyramus to name:
Th' other a maide, the mother would that shee then Thisbie hight,
With no smal blisse of parents al, who came to ioy the sight:
I ouerslip what sodaine frights, how often feare there was,
And what the care each creature had, ere they did ouerpas:
What paynes ensue, & what the stormes in pearced harts yt dwel,
And therfore know, what babe & mother whose chast, & subtil brād
No earthly hart, ne when they lust, no God hath yet withstand,
Ere seuen yeres these infants harts, they haue with loue opprest:
Though litle know their tender age, what causeth their vnrest,
Yet they poore fooles vntaught to loue, or how to lesse their payne:
With well contented mindes receiue, and prime of loue sustayne.
No pastime can they elswhere finde, but twayn themselues alone
For other playfeares sport, God wot, with them is reckend none:
Ioy were to here their prety wordes, and sweet maintain to see,
And how all day they passe the time, till darknes dimmes the skye:
But then the heauy cheare they make, when forst is their farwell
Declares such greefe as none would thinke, in so yong brests could dwell:
Ye looke how long, yt any let, doth kepe them two a sunder,
Their mourning harts no ioy may glad, yt heuens ye passeth vnder
And when agayn, they efte repayre, and ioyfull meeting make,
Yet know they not the cause therof, ne why their sorowes slake.
With sight they feede their fancies then, and more it still desire,
Ye more they haue, nor want they finde of sight they so require:
And thus in tender impe spronge vp, this loue vpstarteth still,
For more their yeres, much more ye flame, yt doth their fancies fill.
And where before their infants age, gaue no suspect at all.
Now needefull is, with weary eye, to watchfull minde they call:
Their whole estate, & it to guide, in such wise orderly,
As of their secret sweete desires, ill tongues no light espy.
And so they did, but hard God wot, are flames of fire to hide
Much more to cause a louers hart, within it bounds to finde:
For neither colde, their mindes consent so quench of loue the rage
Nor they at yeres, the least twise seuen, their passions so aswage
But yt to Thisbes Mothers eares, some spark therof were blowen,
Let Mothers iudg her pacience now, til shee ye whole haue knowē.
And so by wily wayes shee wrought, to her no litle care,
That forth shee found, their whole deuise, and how they were in snare:
Great is her greefe, though smal the cause, if other cause ne were,
For why a meeter match then they, might hap no other where:
But now tween Fathers, though the cause, mine Auctor nothing els,
Such inward rancor risen is, and so it daily swels.
As hope of freendship to be had, is none (alas) the while,
Ne any loueday to be made, their mallice to begyle:
Wherfore straight charge, straight giuen is wt fathers frowning chere,
That message worde, ne token els, what euer that it were:
Should frō their foe to Thisbee passe, & Pyramus freends likewise,
No lesse expresse commaundement, doo for their sonne deuise.
And yet not thus content alas, eche Father doth ordayne,
A secret watch and bounde a point, wherin they shall remayne:
Sight is forbid, restrained are wordes, for scalde is all deuise,
That should their poore afflicted mindes, reioyce in any wise:
Though pyning loue, gaue rause before of many carefull yll,
Yet dayly sithe amended all, at least well pleased them still:
But now what depth of deepe distresse, may they indrowned bee,
That now in dayes twise twenty tolde, eche other once shall see.
Curst is their face, so cry they ofte, and happy death they call,
Come death come wished death at once, and rid vs life and all.
And where before (Dame Kinde) her selfe, did wonder to beholde
Her highe bequests within their shape, Dame Beauty did vnfold:
Now doth shee maruel much and say, how faded is that red?
And how is spent that white so pure, it wont to ouerspred.
For now late lusty Piramus, more fresh then flower in May,
As one forlorne with constant minde, doth seeke his ending day:
Since Thisbe mine is lost sayth hee, I haue no more to lose,
Wherfore make speed, thou happy hand, these eyes of mine shall close.
Abasid is his princely port, cast of his regall weede,
Forsaken are assemblies all, and lothed the foming steed:
No ioy may pearce his pensiue mynde, vnlesse a wofull brest
May ioyed bee, with swarmes of care, in haples hart that rest:
And thus poore Piramus distrest, of humaine succor all,
Deuoyd to Venus Temple goes, and prostrate downe doth fal:
And there of her, with hart I korue, and sore tormented mindes,
Thus askes hee ayd, and of his woes, the Fardell thus vnbindes.
The deepest of her secret skill, or shee their byrth had wrought:
For as their yeares in one agreed, and beauty equall shone,
In bounty and lyke vertues all, so were they there all one.
And as it pleased Nature then, the one a sonne to frame,
So did the glad olde Father like him Pyramus to name:
Th' other a maide, the mother would that shee then Thisbie hight,
With no smal blisse of parents al, who came to ioy the sight:
I ouerslip what sodaine frights, how often feare there was,
And what the care each creature had, ere they did ouerpas:
What paynes ensue, & what the stormes in pearced harts yt dwel,
And therfore know, what babe & mother whose chast, & subtil brād
No earthly hart, ne when they lust, no God hath yet withstand,
Ere seuen yeres these infants harts, they haue with loue opprest:
Though litle know their tender age, what causeth their vnrest,
Yet they poore fooles vntaught to loue, or how to lesse their payne:
With well contented mindes receiue, and prime of loue sustayne.
No pastime can they elswhere finde, but twayn themselues alone
For other playfeares sport, God wot, with them is reckend none:
Ioy were to here their prety wordes, and sweet maintain to see,
And how all day they passe the time, till darknes dimmes the skye:
But then the heauy cheare they make, when forst is their farwell
Declares such greefe as none would thinke, in so yong brests could dwell:
Ye looke how long, yt any let, doth kepe them two a sunder,
Their mourning harts no ioy may glad, yt heuens ye passeth vnder
And when agayn, they efte repayre, and ioyfull meeting make,
Yet know they not the cause therof, ne why their sorowes slake.
Ye more they haue, nor want they finde of sight they so require:
And thus in tender impe spronge vp, this loue vpstarteth still,
For more their yeres, much more ye flame, yt doth their fancies fill.
And where before their infants age, gaue no suspect at all.
Now needefull is, with weary eye, to watchfull minde they call:
Their whole estate, & it to guide, in such wise orderly,
As of their secret sweete desires, ill tongues no light espy.
And so they did, but hard God wot, are flames of fire to hide
Much more to cause a louers hart, within it bounds to finde:
For neither colde, their mindes consent so quench of loue the rage
Nor they at yeres, the least twise seuen, their passions so aswage
But yt to Thisbes Mothers eares, some spark therof were blowen,
Let Mothers iudg her pacience now, til shee ye whole haue knowē.
And so by wily wayes shee wrought, to her no litle care,
That forth shee found, their whole deuise, and how they were in snare:
Great is her greefe, though smal the cause, if other cause ne were,
For why a meeter match then they, might hap no other where:
But now tween Fathers, though the cause, mine Auctor nothing els,
Such inward rancor risen is, and so it daily swels.
As hope of freendship to be had, is none (alas) the while,
Ne any loueday to be made, their mallice to begyle:
Wherfore straight charge, straight giuen is wt fathers frowning chere,
That message worde, ne token els, what euer that it were:
Should frō their foe to Thisbee passe, & Pyramus freends likewise,
No lesse expresse commaundement, doo for their sonne deuise.
And yet not thus content alas, eche Father doth ordayne,
A secret watch and bounde a point, wherin they shall remayne:
Sight is forbid, restrained are wordes, for scalde is all deuise,
That should their poore afflicted mindes, reioyce in any wise:
Though pyning loue, gaue rause before of many carefull yll,
Yet dayly sithe amended all, at least well pleased them still:
But now what depth of deepe distresse, may they indrowned bee,
That now in dayes twise twenty tolde, eche other once shall see.
Curst is their face, so cry they ofte, and happy death they call,
Come death come wished death at once, and rid vs life and all.
Her highe bequests within their shape, Dame Beauty did vnfold:
Now doth shee maruel much and say, how faded is that red?
And how is spent that white so pure, it wont to ouerspred.
For now late lusty Piramus, more fresh then flower in May,
As one forlorne with constant minde, doth seeke his ending day:
Since Thisbe mine is lost sayth hee, I haue no more to lose,
Wherfore make speed, thou happy hand, these eyes of mine shall close.
Abasid is his princely port, cast of his regall weede,
Forsaken are assemblies all, and lothed the foming steed:
No ioy may pearce his pensiue mynde, vnlesse a wofull brest
May ioyed bee, with swarmes of care, in haples hart that rest:
And thus poore Piramus distrest, of humaine succor all,
Deuoyd to Venus Temple goes, and prostrate downe doth fal:
And there of her, with hart I korue, and sore tormented mindes,
Thus askes hee ayd, and of his woes, the Fardell thus vnbindes.
| A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions | |