 | The works (1829-1839) |  |
173
II. VOL. II.
THE BEGINNING, ACCIDENTS, AND END OF THE WAR OF TROY.
Whilom in Troy, that ancient noble town,
Did dwell a king of honour and renown,
Of port, of puissance, and mickle fame,
And Priam was this mighty prince's name;
Whom, in regard of his triumphant state,
The world as then surnam'd the fortunate,
So happy was he for his progeny,
His queen, his court, his children, and country:
Yclypped stately Hecuba was she,
So fair a creature hardly might you see,
So brave, and of so comely personage;
And, long before she tasted fortune's rage,
With twenty sons and daughters, wondrous thing,
This lusty lady did enrich her king,
Fruit not unlike the tree whereof they sprong;
The daughters lovely, modest, wise, and yong;
The sons, as doth my story well unfold,
All knights at arms, gay, gallant, brave and bold,
Of wit and manhood such as might suffice,
To venture on the highest piece of service:
His peers as loyal to their royal lord,
As might ne tainted be for deed or word;
His court presenting to our earthly eyes,
A sky of stars, or shining paradise.
Thus happy, Priam, didst thou live of yore,
That to thy hap could nought be added more:
Till 'mong the gods I wot not what was he
Envying tho this happiness to thee,
Or goddess, or accursed fiend below,
Conspiring thy Troy's wrack and overthrow,—
Alack, that happiness may not long last,
That all these braveries been so brief a blast!
Till one (I say) avenging power or other
Buzz'd in the brain of the unhappy mother
A dreadful dream, and as it did befall,
To Priam's Troy a dream deadly and fatal.
For when the time of mother's pain drew nigh,
And now the load that in her womb did lie
Began to stir, and move with proper strength,
Ready to leave his place; behold at length
She dreams and gives her lord to understand;
That she should soon bring forth a fire-brand,
Whose hot and climbing flame should grow so great
That Neptune's Troy it would consume with heat.
And, counsel taken of this troublous dream,
The soothsayers said that not swift Simois' stream
Might serve to quench that fierce devouring fire,
That did this brand 'gainst town of Troy conspire.
Which to prevent (a piteous tale to tell)
Both sire and dame 'gainst law and kind rebel,
And that this fear might so be overblown,
This babe from Troy withouten ruth is thrown.
Did dwell a king of honour and renown,
Of port, of puissance, and mickle fame,
And Priam was this mighty prince's name;
Whom, in regard of his triumphant state,
The world as then surnam'd the fortunate,
So happy was he for his progeny,
His queen, his court, his children, and country:
Yclypped stately Hecuba was she,
So fair a creature hardly might you see,
So brave, and of so comely personage;
And, long before she tasted fortune's rage,
With twenty sons and daughters, wondrous thing,
This lusty lady did enrich her king,
Fruit not unlike the tree whereof they sprong;
The daughters lovely, modest, wise, and yong;
The sons, as doth my story well unfold,
All knights at arms, gay, gallant, brave and bold,
Of wit and manhood such as might suffice,
To venture on the highest piece of service:
His peers as loyal to their royal lord,
As might ne tainted be for deed or word;
174
A sky of stars, or shining paradise.
Thus happy, Priam, didst thou live of yore,
That to thy hap could nought be added more:
Till 'mong the gods I wot not what was he
Envying tho this happiness to thee,
Or goddess, or accursed fiend below,
Conspiring thy Troy's wrack and overthrow,—
Alack, that happiness may not long last,
That all these braveries been so brief a blast!
Till one (I say) avenging power or other
Buzz'd in the brain of the unhappy mother
A dreadful dream, and as it did befall,
To Priam's Troy a dream deadly and fatal.
For when the time of mother's pain drew nigh,
And now the load that in her womb did lie
Began to stir, and move with proper strength,
Ready to leave his place; behold at length
She dreams and gives her lord to understand;
That she should soon bring forth a fire-brand,
Whose hot and climbing flame should grow so great
That Neptune's Troy it would consume with heat.
And, counsel taken of this troublous dream,
The soothsayers said that not swift Simois' stream
Might serve to quench that fierce devouring fire,
That did this brand 'gainst town of Troy conspire.
Which to prevent (a piteous tale to tell)
Both sire and dame 'gainst law and kind rebel,
175
This babe from Troy withouten ruth is thrown.
But tempted may the Gods, not mocked be;
It is thy fate, nor may thou, Troy, foresee
What must befall, thou may'st it not foreknow:
Yet Paris lives, and men him called so;
He lives a shepherd's swain on Ida hills,
And breathes a man 'gainst Troy and Troyans' wills,
That threatens fire to Troy, a jolly swain.
It is thy fate, nor may thou, Troy, foresee
What must befall, thou may'st it not foreknow:
Yet Paris lives, and men him called so;
He lives a shepherd's swain on Ida hills,
And breathes a man 'gainst Troy and Troyans' wills,
That threatens fire to Troy, a jolly swain.
And here me list leave Priam and his train:
And tend we Paris yet another while;
How he can Nymphs and shepherds' trulls beguile,
And pipen songs, and whet his wits on books,
And wrap poor maids with sweet alluring looks;
So couth he sing his lays among them all,
And tune his pipe unto the water's fall,
And wear his coat of gray and lusty green,
That had the fair Œnone never seen
His 'ticing curled hair, his front of ivory,
The careless nymph had ne'er been so unhappy.
Then was the time when Flora with her flowers,
Like Iris in her pride and party colours,
Sate in her summer arbours like a queen,
And dight the earth in yellow, blue, and green,
Then Phœbe 'gan a solemn hunting make,
A feast for Pallas', Juno, Venus' sake;
And on that Ida, where king Priam's son,
Paris, this lovely shepherd's swain did won,
A wondrous strife and variance did befall,
Among the goddesses for a golden ball,
That some fell fury threw among them all.
And fatal was it to this shepherd's boy,
That in his bosom bare the bane of Troy,
To wander by that sacred place alone;
Belike his Nymph and walking mate was gone:
And there was chosen judge to end this strife,
That after lost full many a man his life.
And thus this doughty daysman, as I reed,
Did crankly venture on this thankless deed:
Whom Juno first, the great and stately Goddess,
Entic'd with honour of much wealth and riches:
And certes gold hath store of eloquence.
Him Pallas eke the queen of sapience,
Tempted with wisdom and with chivalry,
To win the golden ball bequeath'd to beauty.
But neither wealth nor wisdom might him move,
When Venus 'gan t'encounter him with love.
So led away with over-vain conceit,
And surfeiting belike on pleasure's bait,
As men are wont to let the better go
And choose the worse, this jolly shepherd, lo!
In hope to win the gallant flower of Greece,
Fair Helena, that brave and peerless piece;
Giveth the prize to lady Venus' grace,
And ends with endless war this doubtful case.
Ah Paris! hadst thou had but equal eyes,
Indifferent in bestowing of the prize,
Thy human wit might have discerned well,
Wherein true beauty of the mind did dwell.
But men must err, because that men they be,
And men with love yblinded cannot see.
Throughout the world the rumour being blown
Of this event, the man was quickly known,
And homewards comes forsooth to luckless Troy,
Of yore a shepherd's swain, king Priam's boy:
And in his breast did bear an uncouth heat,
The strength whereof began to grow so great,
As needs Sir Paris must prepare to see
What might the substance of this shadow be,
That yet his fancy wrought upon so fast.
So furnished with men and ships at last
To Lacedemon doth this minion come;
The winds made way, the sea affording room:
In fine, the cut and voyage being short,
This knight arrives at Menelaus' Court,
Where such his entertainment was I find,
As justly might content a princely mind;
For she was there to give him welcome tho,
Who more his inward sense, than eye did know;
A lusty, brave, and lively dame was she,
A lass well worthy to be Paris fee;
The queen herself that hight fair Helena,
Whom yet unseen his thoughts did all obey:
And by the hand she takes her new-come guest,
And gives him entertainment of the best.
Yet stately Troy did flourish in his pride,
And Priam whom no prince might mate beside,
Till love and hate together did conspire,
To waste this town and realm with wasteful fire.
The Prince of Troy 'gan easily now to see,
How well her person with her fame did 'gree;
When calling on Dame Venus for his due,
The King of Sparta with a lordly crew,
Must post from home and leave his wife forsooth,
To give Sir Paris welcome for his tooth.
Thus Venus first to help Love's policy,
Advantag'd him with opportunity.
And now as lovers wont their times espy,
This lover can his task full well apply,
And strives to court his mistress cunningly,
Whose tender breast the conquering god of love,
As will'd his dame, with arrows 'gan to prove,
And found it fit for love's impression.
No sooner was King Menelaus gone,
But Helen's heart had ta'en so great a flame,
As love increas'd with Paris' only name:
And now she 'gan survey his lovely face,
And curiously observe each courtly grace,
And after large disputes of right and wrong,
What did to love and woman-hood belong,—
Ah, that this love will be no better rul'd,
Ah, that these lovers nill be better school'd!—
After sweet lines, that from this stranger's pen
Came swiftly to her reading now and then,
Regard of honour thrown aside by this,
She arms her boldly to this great amiss;
And, for her heart was from her body hent,
To Troy this Helen with her lover went,
Thinking, perdy, a part contrary kind,
Her heart so raught, herself to stay behind.
And thus hath Paris with his cunning caught
The dainty bird that all so far he sought.
No sooner were they started thus away,
But straight the king, yet all too late a day,
Had news of this unworthy traitorous deed,
And after (says my story) 'gins to speed;
But conquering love, that hath no leaden heels,
Belike tied wings unto the Troyan's keels.
Away flies Paris with his chased prey,
And lands in Troy the gallant Helena,
Whom aged Priam and Queen Hecuba,
With all their noble sons and daughters too,
Welcome with royal feasts and much ado;
And every lovely dame and lusty knight,
Do pay the prince such honour as they might.
The peers, the princes, and the lords of Greece,
Touch'd with the rape of this reproachful piece,
Not suffering such barbarous villany,
Dishonour to their state and country,
In fury 'gan the quarrel undertake;
Not all alone for Menelaus' sake,
But to rebuke and to avenge beside
Helen's false love, Paris' adulterous pride;
Making provision for a lasting war,
That wounded all so deep, and yet the scar
Remains, and will endure from day to day,
That teeth of fretting time shall never wear away.
In Aulis' gulf they mightily assemble,
Whose power might make the proudest Troy to tremble:
Lord Agamemnon there among them all,
With Greeks' consent was chosen general.
Before this time a while, as I can reed,
Ulysses, by the means of Palamede,
Unhappy man, was fetch'd from Ithaca,
Yet well could counterfeit a cause of stay,
To tarry with his wife Penelope;
But private cause must common cause obey,
And though he feign'd a madness for the nonce,
Yet can Sir Palamedes all at once
To try his wit offer his tender son,
Whom while the sire refus'd to over-run,
That play'd the frantic ploughman all in vain,
He roundly brought him to the Argive train:
That for the hate he harbour'd in his head
Nill cease till this Sir Palamede was dead.
So Peleus' noble son, the great Achilles,
That lothly with the Grecians went to seas,
Clad by his dame in habit of a woman,
Unworthy cowardice of a valiant man,
But that no cowardice this deed can hight
In him that was approv'd so good a knight,
Ulysses with his toys and trifles trim
Full like a pedler can decipher him.
And tend we Paris yet another while;
How he can Nymphs and shepherds' trulls beguile,
And pipen songs, and whet his wits on books,
And wrap poor maids with sweet alluring looks;
So couth he sing his lays among them all,
And tune his pipe unto the water's fall,
And wear his coat of gray and lusty green,
That had the fair Œnone never seen
His 'ticing curled hair, his front of ivory,
The careless nymph had ne'er been so unhappy.
Then was the time when Flora with her flowers,
Like Iris in her pride and party colours,
Sate in her summer arbours like a queen,
And dight the earth in yellow, blue, and green,
Then Phœbe 'gan a solemn hunting make,
A feast for Pallas', Juno, Venus' sake;
176
Paris, this lovely shepherd's swain did won,
A wondrous strife and variance did befall,
Among the goddesses for a golden ball,
That some fell fury threw among them all.
And fatal was it to this shepherd's boy,
That in his bosom bare the bane of Troy,
To wander by that sacred place alone;
Belike his Nymph and walking mate was gone:
And there was chosen judge to end this strife,
That after lost full many a man his life.
And thus this doughty daysman, as I reed,
Did crankly venture on this thankless deed:
Whom Juno first, the great and stately Goddess,
Entic'd with honour of much wealth and riches:
And certes gold hath store of eloquence.
Him Pallas eke the queen of sapience,
Tempted with wisdom and with chivalry,
To win the golden ball bequeath'd to beauty.
But neither wealth nor wisdom might him move,
When Venus 'gan t'encounter him with love.
So led away with over-vain conceit,
And surfeiting belike on pleasure's bait,
As men are wont to let the better go
And choose the worse, this jolly shepherd, lo!
In hope to win the gallant flower of Greece,
Fair Helena, that brave and peerless piece;
Giveth the prize to lady Venus' grace,
And ends with endless war this doubtful case.
177
Indifferent in bestowing of the prize,
Thy human wit might have discerned well,
Wherein true beauty of the mind did dwell.
But men must err, because that men they be,
And men with love yblinded cannot see.
Throughout the world the rumour being blown
Of this event, the man was quickly known,
And homewards comes forsooth to luckless Troy,
Of yore a shepherd's swain, king Priam's boy:
And in his breast did bear an uncouth heat,
The strength whereof began to grow so great,
As needs Sir Paris must prepare to see
What might the substance of this shadow be,
That yet his fancy wrought upon so fast.
So furnished with men and ships at last
To Lacedemon doth this minion come;
The winds made way, the sea affording room:
In fine, the cut and voyage being short,
This knight arrives at Menelaus' Court,
Where such his entertainment was I find,
As justly might content a princely mind;
For she was there to give him welcome tho,
Who more his inward sense, than eye did know;
A lusty, brave, and lively dame was she,
A lass well worthy to be Paris fee;
178
Whom yet unseen his thoughts did all obey:
And by the hand she takes her new-come guest,
And gives him entertainment of the best.
Yet stately Troy did flourish in his pride,
And Priam whom no prince might mate beside,
Till love and hate together did conspire,
To waste this town and realm with wasteful fire.
The Prince of Troy 'gan easily now to see,
How well her person with her fame did 'gree;
When calling on Dame Venus for his due,
The King of Sparta with a lordly crew,
Must post from home and leave his wife forsooth,
To give Sir Paris welcome for his tooth.
Thus Venus first to help Love's policy,
Advantag'd him with opportunity.
And now as lovers wont their times espy,
This lover can his task full well apply,
And strives to court his mistress cunningly,
Whose tender breast the conquering god of love,
As will'd his dame, with arrows 'gan to prove,
And found it fit for love's impression.
No sooner was King Menelaus gone,
But Helen's heart had ta'en so great a flame,
As love increas'd with Paris' only name:
And now she 'gan survey his lovely face,
And curiously observe each courtly grace,
And after large disputes of right and wrong,
What did to love and woman-hood belong,—
179
Ah, that these lovers nill be better school'd!—
After sweet lines, that from this stranger's pen
Came swiftly to her reading now and then,
Regard of honour thrown aside by this,
She arms her boldly to this great amiss;
And, for her heart was from her body hent,
To Troy this Helen with her lover went,
Thinking, perdy, a part contrary kind,
Her heart so raught, herself to stay behind.
And thus hath Paris with his cunning caught
The dainty bird that all so far he sought.
No sooner were they started thus away,
But straight the king, yet all too late a day,
Had news of this unworthy traitorous deed,
And after (says my story) 'gins to speed;
But conquering love, that hath no leaden heels,
Belike tied wings unto the Troyan's keels.
Away flies Paris with his chased prey,
And lands in Troy the gallant Helena,
Whom aged Priam and Queen Hecuba,
With all their noble sons and daughters too,
Welcome with royal feasts and much ado;
180
Do pay the prince such honour as they might.
The peers, the princes, and the lords of Greece,
Touch'd with the rape of this reproachful piece,
Not suffering such barbarous villany,
Dishonour to their state and country,
In fury 'gan the quarrel undertake;
Not all alone for Menelaus' sake,
But to rebuke and to avenge beside
Helen's false love, Paris' adulterous pride;
Making provision for a lasting war,
That wounded all so deep, and yet the scar
Remains, and will endure from day to day,
That teeth of fretting time shall never wear away.
In Aulis' gulf they mightily assemble,
Whose power might make the proudest Troy to tremble:
Lord Agamemnon there among them all,
With Greeks' consent was chosen general.
Before this time a while, as I can reed,
Ulysses, by the means of Palamede,
Unhappy man, was fetch'd from Ithaca,
Yet well could counterfeit a cause of stay,
To tarry with his wife Penelope;
But private cause must common cause obey,
And though he feign'd a madness for the nonce,
Yet can Sir Palamedes all at once
To try his wit offer his tender son,
Whom while the sire refus'd to over-run,
That play'd the frantic ploughman all in vain,
He roundly brought him to the Argive train:
181
Nill cease till this Sir Palamede was dead.
So Peleus' noble son, the great Achilles,
That lothly with the Grecians went to seas,
Clad by his dame in habit of a woman,
Unworthy cowardice of a valiant man,
But that no cowardice this deed can hight
In him that was approv'd so good a knight,
Ulysses with his toys and trifles trim
Full like a pedler can decipher him.
The force of Greece and armies all by this,
For want of wind have hover'd long in Aulis:
What mighty men misdo, the meaner rue;
So great an ill by lingering doth ensue.
Nor was there other help but Iphigen,
That might enforce the winds to blow agen;
And will he, nill he, Agamemnon must,
If he will termed be a general just,
Dispatch some trusty messenger or page,
Under pretence of love or marriage,
To fetch to Aulis' gulf the Argive queen,
To see the spousals of fair Iphigen;
And prince Achilles was her lover nam'd;
But all untowardly this business fram'd:
For Clytemnestra had espied ere long
Whereto this subtle message did belong.
In fine, the virgin slain in sacrifice,
The Greeks have wind at will, the waters rise.
For want of wind have hover'd long in Aulis:
What mighty men misdo, the meaner rue;
So great an ill by lingering doth ensue.
Nor was there other help but Iphigen,
That might enforce the winds to blow agen;
And will he, nill he, Agamemnon must,
If he will termed be a general just,
Dispatch some trusty messenger or page,
Under pretence of love or marriage,
To fetch to Aulis' gulf the Argive queen,
To see the spousals of fair Iphigen;
And prince Achilles was her lover nam'd;
But all untowardly this business fram'd:
For Clytemnestra had espied ere long
Whereto this subtle message did belong.
In fine, the virgin slain in sacrifice,
The Greeks have wind at will, the waters rise.
How many ills do follow one annoy?
Now merrily sail our gallant Greeks to Troy,
And scour the seas, and cheerly run forth right,
As shoots a streaming star in winter's night,
Away they fly, their tackling teft and tight,
Top and top-gallant in the bravest sort.
And, as ye wot, this war and tragic sport
It was for Helena.
King Priam now 'gan easily understand
How Greeks with all their power were hard at hand;
And sadly do the peers their prince advise,
The while in rage Cassandra calls and cries,
Render, ye Troyans, to these madding Greeks
The dame that all this expedition seeks.
Now merrily sail our gallant Greeks to Troy,
182
As shoots a streaming star in winter's night,
Away they fly, their tackling teft and tight,
Top and top-gallant in the bravest sort.
And, as ye wot, this war and tragic sport
It was for Helena.
King Priam now 'gan easily understand
How Greeks with all their power were hard at hand;
And sadly do the peers their prince advise,
The while in rage Cassandra calls and cries,
Render, ye Troyans, to these madding Greeks
The dame that all this expedition seeks.
And to this battle, bruited far by fame,
Great aid of arms on either party came:
From Tyber, and the quaking Tanais,
To Troy, the queen of Amazons by this,
Penthesilea with her warlike band
Arriv'd in honour of king Priam's land.
And over long it were for me to tell
In this afflicting war what hap befell;
How many Greeks, how many Troyan knights,
As chivalry by kind in love delights,
Upon their helms their plumes can well advance,
And twist their ladies' colours in their lance.
So love doth make them bold and venturous:
So hardy was the true knight Troilus,
All for pure love of the unconstant Cressid,
T'encounter with th'unworthy Diomed.
But leave I here of Troilus to say,
Whose passions for the ranging Cressida
Require a volume to unfold at large,
And cunning need he be that takes the charge,
To paint the colours of that changing piece,
Stain to all dames of Troy and stately Greece.
Great aid of arms on either party came:
From Tyber, and the quaking Tanais,
To Troy, the queen of Amazons by this,
Penthesilea with her warlike band
Arriv'd in honour of king Priam's land.
And over long it were for me to tell
In this afflicting war what hap befell;
How many Greeks, how many Troyan knights,
As chivalry by kind in love delights,
Upon their helms their plumes can well advance,
And twist their ladies' colours in their lance.
So love doth make them bold and venturous:
So hardy was the true knight Troilus,
All for pure love of the unconstant Cressid,
T'encounter with th'unworthy Diomed.
183
Whose passions for the ranging Cressida
Require a volume to unfold at large,
And cunning need he be that takes the charge,
To paint the colours of that changing piece,
Stain to all dames of Troy and stately Greece.
And that I may do every man his right,
Sir Paris mounted, in his armour bright,
Pricks forth, and on his helm his mistress' sleeve;
How could that sight but Menelaus grieve!
And now the Greeks, and now the Troyans may,
As pleaseth Fortune, bear away the day.
The times of truce set down by martial law,
The dames of Troy with lovely looks do draw
The hearts of many Greeks, and lo, at last
The great Achilles is enthralled fast!
That night ne day he might his rest enjoy,
So was his heart engaged whole to Troy:
That now no more of arms this warrior would,
Or, mought I say, no more for love he could;
The camp complains upon his love and sloth,
And charge him with his knighthood and his oath.
Now rides out Hector, call'd the scourge of Greeks,
And like the untam'd panther prys and seeks
Where he might prove his force, and storming thus
He lights upon Achilles' friend, Patroclus.
Whenas the great Achilles 'gan him greet,
And lion-like runs proudly him to meet,
For rescue of his friend, as he were wood,
And charging tight his staff in eager mood,
Forgetful of the fair Polixena,
As faulcon wonts to stoop upon her prey,
As Hector had unhors'd Patroclus tho,
Despoiling him in field, alas, for woe!
Unwares to wreak this deed of his beleek,
He slays a peerless Troyan for a Greek;
And having thus perform'd this murderous treason,
He triumphs in the spoils of Priam's son.
Now 'gan the Grecians clap their hands for glee,
But blood will blood, so ever mought it be.
The Troyans' glory now 'gan waxen dim,
And cold their hope, sith death hath seized him,
That gave them hope and happy fortune too.
The Mother Queen withouten more ado,
'Gan whet her wits to wreak this malice done,
And traitorous murder of her valiant son.
When Hector's death was more than half forgot,
Or at the least dissembled well I wot,
Full wisely 'gan this lady offer make,
That if the Prince Achilles list to take
Her daughter fair Polixena to spouse,
In Pallas' temple should he make his vows:
And thus the queen that knew no law of arms
Vow'd clear to him and void of further harms.
But when this Greek did little think of guile,
To work revenge for Hector's death the while,
Even in the fatal place Sir Paris than
With poison'd shaft dispatch'd the hapless man;
And where his mother Thetis him not hent,
Directly thither was his arrow sent.
Now lies the great Achilles dead in Troy;
The Greeks make moan, the Troyans leap for joy,
And Priam doth bestow his bloodless bones
Upon his wretched heartless Myrmidons.
Immediately began a bloody brawl
Among the lords and Greekish captains all,
Touching the armour of this valiant knight.
Sir Ajax first doth claim it as his right,
And then 'gainst him the Lord of Ithaca
Thinks for desert to bear the prize away;
And of the twain but one might it enjoy,
And plead they must upon the strond of Troy
Before the ships, where Ajax in a heat,
For that the stomach of the man was great,
Lays open to the Greeks his service done
In their affairs since first this war begun,
And twits Ulysses with his cowardice:
But, Ajax, this for thee may not suffice;
For though the targe were over big to bear,
And stout Achilles' helm unfit to wear
For wise Laertes' son, yet policy,
That hight indeed the strength of chivalry,
Was that whereof this knight doth chiefly vaunt;
So with his words he 'gan their wits enchant,
That, when he must conclude and say no more,
'A shows the fatal sign that to the shore
'A stole by night from Troy, and then (quoth he)
Bestow it here, ye Greeks, if ye nill give it me.
Wherewith he won their hearts, and charm'd their eyes,
And from Six Ajax got the martial prize:
The man, whom wrath and fury overcame,
Not able to endure this open shame,
Foully sought violent means to stint this strife,
And with a deadly stab reav'd his own life.
Sir Paris mounted, in his armour bright,
Pricks forth, and on his helm his mistress' sleeve;
How could that sight but Menelaus grieve!
And now the Greeks, and now the Troyans may,
As pleaseth Fortune, bear away the day.
The times of truce set down by martial law,
The dames of Troy with lovely looks do draw
The hearts of many Greeks, and lo, at last
The great Achilles is enthralled fast!
That night ne day he might his rest enjoy,
So was his heart engaged whole to Troy:
That now no more of arms this warrior would,
Or, mought I say, no more for love he could;
The camp complains upon his love and sloth,
And charge him with his knighthood and his oath.
Now rides out Hector, call'd the scourge of Greeks,
And like the untam'd panther prys and seeks
Where he might prove his force, and storming thus
He lights upon Achilles' friend, Patroclus.
Whenas the great Achilles 'gan him greet,
And lion-like runs proudly him to meet,
184
And charging tight his staff in eager mood,
Forgetful of the fair Polixena,
As faulcon wonts to stoop upon her prey,
As Hector had unhors'd Patroclus tho,
Despoiling him in field, alas, for woe!
Unwares to wreak this deed of his beleek,
He slays a peerless Troyan for a Greek;
And having thus perform'd this murderous treason,
He triumphs in the spoils of Priam's son.
Now 'gan the Grecians clap their hands for glee,
But blood will blood, so ever mought it be.
The Troyans' glory now 'gan waxen dim,
And cold their hope, sith death hath seized him,
That gave them hope and happy fortune too.
The Mother Queen withouten more ado,
'Gan whet her wits to wreak this malice done,
And traitorous murder of her valiant son.
When Hector's death was more than half forgot,
Or at the least dissembled well I wot,
Full wisely 'gan this lady offer make,
That if the Prince Achilles list to take
Her daughter fair Polixena to spouse,
In Pallas' temple should he make his vows:
And thus the queen that knew no law of arms
Vow'd clear to him and void of further harms.
But when this Greek did little think of guile,
To work revenge for Hector's death the while,
185
With poison'd shaft dispatch'd the hapless man;
And where his mother Thetis him not hent,
Directly thither was his arrow sent.
Now lies the great Achilles dead in Troy;
The Greeks make moan, the Troyans leap for joy,
And Priam doth bestow his bloodless bones
Upon his wretched heartless Myrmidons.
Immediately began a bloody brawl
Among the lords and Greekish captains all,
Touching the armour of this valiant knight.
Sir Ajax first doth claim it as his right,
And then 'gainst him the Lord of Ithaca
Thinks for desert to bear the prize away;
And of the twain but one might it enjoy,
And plead they must upon the strond of Troy
Before the ships, where Ajax in a heat,
For that the stomach of the man was great,
Lays open to the Greeks his service done
In their affairs since first this war begun,
And twits Ulysses with his cowardice:
But, Ajax, this for thee may not suffice;
For though the targe were over big to bear,
And stout Achilles' helm unfit to wear
For wise Laertes' son, yet policy,
That hight indeed the strength of chivalry,
Was that whereof this knight doth chiefly vaunt;
So with his words he 'gan their wits enchant,
186
'A shows the fatal sign that to the shore
'A stole by night from Troy, and then (quoth he)
Bestow it here, ye Greeks, if ye nill give it me.
Wherewith he won their hearts, and charm'd their eyes,
And from Six Ajax got the martial prize:
The man, whom wrath and fury overcame,
Not able to endure this open shame,
Foully sought violent means to stint this strife,
And with a deadly stab reav'd his own life.
And now this wasteful war that lasted long,
To dames of Troy and Greece a tedious wrong,
With hot encounter and unhappy fight,
And hasten'd death of many a hardy knight,
'Gan grow to this, that Greeks to blear the eyes
Of their forwearied foes began devise:
And having built a great unwieldy frame,
Much like a horse, and well ystuft the same
With men of war, they make a subtle show,
As though from Troy they homeward meant to go,
And raise the siege, and leave the prize behind,
But gods do know they nothing less do mind:
For, as I ween, my history doth say,
To Tenedos the Grecians took their way,
An isle that gave them harbour and abode:
Now leave we there these Greeks to lie at road.
To dames of Troy and Greece a tedious wrong,
With hot encounter and unhappy fight,
And hasten'd death of many a hardy knight,
'Gan grow to this, that Greeks to blear the eyes
Of their forwearied foes began devise:
And having built a great unwieldy frame,
Much like a horse, and well ystuft the same
With men of war, they make a subtle show,
As though from Troy they homeward meant to go,
And raise the siege, and leave the prize behind,
But gods do know they nothing less do mind:
For, as I ween, my history doth say,
To Tenedos the Grecians took their way,
An isle that gave them harbour and abode:
Now leave we there these Greeks to lie at road.
Amidst this hurly burly and uproar,
King Priam sends away young Polydore,
With store of treasure, and with mickle muck,
His youngest son to Thrace; but little luck
Ensued this deed: for Polymnestor, lo,
The thirst of Priam's riches chok'd him so!
A woful tale as I have heard it told,
Murders this prince for lucre of his gold.
The subtle Sinon, for his villany
The noted author of Troy's tragedy,
When traitorous Greeks had slunk to Tenedos,
'Gan with the silly Troyans highly gloze,
And tell a tale perdy of little truth,
Although, as it befel, of mickle ruth:
And so bewitch'd King Priam and his court,
That now at last to Troyan's fatal hurt,
Instead of that might most their states advance,
They 'gree to hoise this engine of mischance,
And make a breach like fools, and never lin
Till their own hands had pull'd their enemies in:
Thus riot, rape, and vain credulity
Bin nam'd chief author's of Troy's tragedy.
The monstrous horse, that in his hugy sides
A traitorous throng of subtle Grecians hides,
'Gan now discharge his vast and hideous load,
And silently disperse his strength abroad.
It was the time when midnight's sleep and rest
With quiet pause the town of Troy possess'd;
The Greeks forsake the ships, and make return:
Now Troy, as was foretold, began to burn,
And Ilium's stately towers to smoke apace;
The conquering Greeks begin amain to chase,
And follow fast their foes, that unawares
False Sinon had betrapped in his snares.
Ah, what a piercing sight it was to see
So brave a town as Troy was said to be,
By quenchless fire laid level with the soil,
The prince and people made the soldier's spoil!
Th'unhappy Priam maz'd with frights and fears,
Seeing his palace flame about his ears,
Out of his wretched slumber hastily start,
And weening to have play'd a young man's part,
Girts to his arming sword with trembling hand;
But she, alas! that bear the fatal brand
That fir'd the town, the most unhappy queen,
Whose like for wretched hap was never seen,
Said, leave, my lord, becomes us not to strive,
Whom would no morning sun might see alive!
And fly from aid of men to powers divine,
And so with me lay hold on Phœbus' shrine.
But he, whose bloody mind and murdering rage
Nor law of gods nor reverence of age
Could temper from a deed so tyrannous,
Achilles' son, the fierce unbridled Pyrrhus,
His father's ghost belike enticing him,
With slaughtering hand, with visage pale and dim,
Hath hent this aged Priam by the hair,
Like butcher bent to slay; and even there
The man that liv'd so many golden years,
The Lord and Master of such lordly peers,
The King of Troy, the mighty King of Troy,
With cruel iron this cursed Greekish boy
Rids of his life, as whilom he had done
With poison'd shaft Paris, old Priam's son.
Thus souls by swarms do press to Pluto's hall;
Thus, naked Troy, or now not Troy at all,
Done is thy pride, dim is thy glorious gite,
Dead is thy prince in this unhappy fight.
My pen, forbear to write of Hecuba,
That made the glorious Sun his chariot stay,
And raining tears his golden face to hide,
For ruth of that did afterwards betide:
Sith this unhappy Queen surviv'd the last,
Till fortune's spite and malice all was past,
And worn with sorrow, wexen fell and mad:
And all the happiness that Priam had
In his mishaps and bloody funeral,
Was that he saw not yet the end of all;
His daughters ravish'd, slain in sacrifice,
Astyanax before his mother's eyes,
The princely babe thrown from the highest tower;
Thus to our deaths there needeth but an hour.
Short tale to make, when first the town of Troy
The Greeks had sack'd, to Asia's great annoy,
When Pyrrhus had the guilty Paris slain,
Lo, now at last the Greeks have home again,
With loss of many a Greek and Troyan's life,
Unhappy Helen, Menelaus' Wife!
The good Æneas, whom the gods beleek
Reserv'd some further better hap to seek,
With old Anchises leaves this wretched town,
And on the seas ytossed up and down,
Arrives in Lavine land, when he had seen
The bounty of the famous Carthage Queen,
Whom, driven by fates, this wandering knight deceiv'd,
That him and his so royally receiv'd.
My author says, to honour Helen's name,
King Priam sends away young Polydore,
187
His youngest son to Thrace; but little luck
Ensued this deed: for Polymnestor, lo,
The thirst of Priam's riches chok'd him so!
A woful tale as I have heard it told,
Murders this prince for lucre of his gold.
The subtle Sinon, for his villany
The noted author of Troy's tragedy,
When traitorous Greeks had slunk to Tenedos,
'Gan with the silly Troyans highly gloze,
And tell a tale perdy of little truth,
Although, as it befel, of mickle ruth:
And so bewitch'd King Priam and his court,
That now at last to Troyan's fatal hurt,
Instead of that might most their states advance,
They 'gree to hoise this engine of mischance,
And make a breach like fools, and never lin
Till their own hands had pull'd their enemies in:
Thus riot, rape, and vain credulity
Bin nam'd chief author's of Troy's tragedy.
The monstrous horse, that in his hugy sides
A traitorous throng of subtle Grecians hides,
'Gan now discharge his vast and hideous load,
And silently disperse his strength abroad.
It was the time when midnight's sleep and rest
With quiet pause the town of Troy possess'd;
The Greeks forsake the ships, and make return:
Now Troy, as was foretold, began to burn,
188
The conquering Greeks begin amain to chase,
And follow fast their foes, that unawares
False Sinon had betrapped in his snares.
Ah, what a piercing sight it was to see
So brave a town as Troy was said to be,
By quenchless fire laid level with the soil,
The prince and people made the soldier's spoil!
Th'unhappy Priam maz'd with frights and fears,
Seeing his palace flame about his ears,
Out of his wretched slumber hastily start,
And weening to have play'd a young man's part,
Girts to his arming sword with trembling hand;
But she, alas! that bear the fatal brand
That fir'd the town, the most unhappy queen,
Whose like for wretched hap was never seen,
Said, leave, my lord, becomes us not to strive,
Whom would no morning sun might see alive!
And fly from aid of men to powers divine,
And so with me lay hold on Phœbus' shrine.
But he, whose bloody mind and murdering rage
Nor law of gods nor reverence of age
Could temper from a deed so tyrannous,
Achilles' son, the fierce unbridled Pyrrhus,
His father's ghost belike enticing him,
With slaughtering hand, with visage pale and dim,
Hath hent this aged Priam by the hair,
Like butcher bent to slay; and even there
The man that liv'd so many golden years,
The Lord and Master of such lordly peers,
189
With cruel iron this cursed Greekish boy
Rids of his life, as whilom he had done
With poison'd shaft Paris, old Priam's son.
Thus souls by swarms do press to Pluto's hall;
Thus, naked Troy, or now not Troy at all,
Done is thy pride, dim is thy glorious gite,
Dead is thy prince in this unhappy fight.
My pen, forbear to write of Hecuba,
That made the glorious Sun his chariot stay,
And raining tears his golden face to hide,
For ruth of that did afterwards betide:
Sith this unhappy Queen surviv'd the last,
Till fortune's spite and malice all was past,
And worn with sorrow, wexen fell and mad:
And all the happiness that Priam had
In his mishaps and bloody funeral,
Was that he saw not yet the end of all;
His daughters ravish'd, slain in sacrifice,
Astyanax before his mother's eyes,
The princely babe thrown from the highest tower;
Thus to our deaths there needeth but an hour.
Short tale to make, when first the town of Troy
The Greeks had sack'd, to Asia's great annoy,
When Pyrrhus had the guilty Paris slain,
Lo, now at last the Greeks have home again,
With loss of many a Greek and Troyan's life,
Unhappy Helen, Menelaus' Wife!
190
Reserv'd some further better hap to seek,
With old Anchises leaves this wretched town,
And on the seas ytossed up and down,
Arrives in Lavine land, when he had seen
The bounty of the famous Carthage Queen,
Whom, driven by fates, this wandering knight deceiv'd,
That him and his so royally receiv'd.
That through the world hath been belied by fame,
How when the king her fere was absent thence,
A tale that well may lessen her offence,
Sir Paris took the town by arms and skill,
And carried her to Troy against her will;
Whom whether afterward she lov'd or no
I cannot tell, but may imagine so.
245
LINES ADDRESSED TO THOMAS WATSON
If graver heads shall count it overlightTo treat of love, say thou to them, a stain
Is incident unto the finest die:
And yet no stain at all it is for thee,
These lays of love, as mirth to melancholy,
To follow fast thy sad Antigone,
246
Compil'd with judgment, order, and with art;
And shrowd thee under shadow of his wings,
Whose gentle heart, and head with learning fraight,
Shall yield thee gracious favour and defence.
247
THE PRAISE OF CHASTITY,
WHEREIN IS SET FORTH, BY WAY OF COMPARISON, HOW GREAT IS THE CONQUEST OVER OUR AFFECTIONS.
The noble Romans whilom wonted were,
For triumph of their conquer'd enemies,
The wreaths of laurel and of palm to wear,
In honour of their famous victories;
For triumph of their conquer'd enemies,
The wreaths of laurel and of palm to wear,
In honour of their famous victories;
And so, in robes of gold and purple dight,
Like bodies shrin'd in seats of ivory,
Their names renown'd for happiness in fight,
They bear the guerdon of their chivalry.
Like bodies shrin'd in seats of ivory,
Their names renown'd for happiness in fight,
They bear the guerdon of their chivalry.
The valiant Greeks for sack of Priam's town,
A work of manhood match'd with policy,
Have fill'd the world with books of their renown,
As much as erst the Roman empery.
A work of manhood match'd with policy,
Have fill'd the world with books of their renown,
As much as erst the Roman empery.
248
The Phrygian knights that in the house of fame
Have shining arms of endless memory,
By hot and fierce repulse did win the same,
Though Helen's rape hurt Paris' progeny.
Have shining arms of endless memory,
By hot and fierce repulse did win the same,
Though Helen's rape hurt Paris' progeny.
Thus strength hath guerdon, by the world's award;
So praise we birth, and high nobility:
If then the mind and body reap reward,
For nature's dower, conferred liberally,
So praise we birth, and high nobility:
If then the mind and body reap reward,
For nature's dower, conferred liberally,
Press then for praise unto the highest room,
That art the highest of the gifts of heaven,
More beautiful by wisdom's sacred doom
Than Sol himself amid the planets seven;
That art the highest of the gifts of heaven,
More beautiful by wisdom's sacred doom
Than Sol himself amid the planets seven;
Queen of content, and temperate desires,
Choice nurse of health, thy name hight Chastity!
A sovereign power to quench such climbing fires
As choak the mind with smoke of infamy:
Choice nurse of health, thy name hight Chastity!
A sovereign power to quench such climbing fires
As choak the mind with smoke of infamy:
Champion at arms, re'ncounter with thy foe,
An enemy foul and fearful to behold;
If then stout captains have been honour'd so,
Their names in books of memory enroll'd,
An enemy foul and fearful to behold;
If then stout captains have been honour'd so,
Their names in books of memory enroll'd,
For puissant strength: ye Roman peers, retire,
And, Greeks, give ground; more honour there is won
With chaste rebukes to temper thy desire,
Than glory gain'd the world to overrun;
And, Greeks, give ground; more honour there is won
With chaste rebukes to temper thy desire,
Than glory gain'd the world to overrun;
249
Than fierce Achilles got by Hector's spoil;
Than erst the mighty prince of Macedon,
King Philip's imp, that put his foes to foil
And wish'd more worlds to hold him play than one.
Than erst the mighty prince of Macedon,
King Philip's imp, that put his foes to foil
And wish'd more worlds to hold him play than one.
Believe me, to contend 'gainst armies royal,
To tame wild panthers but by strength of hand,
To praise the triumph, not so special,
As ticing pleasure's charmes for to withstand.
To tame wild panthers but by strength of hand,
To praise the triumph, not so special,
As ticing pleasure's charmes for to withstand.
And, for me list compare with men of war,
For honour of the field, I dare maintain,
This victory exceedeth that as far
As Phœbus' chariot Vulcan's forge doth stain.
For honour of the field, I dare maintain,
This victory exceedeth that as far
As Phœbus' chariot Vulcan's forge doth stain.
Both noble, and triumphant in their kinds,
And matter worthy queen Remembrance' pen;
But that that tangles both our thoughts and minds,
To master that, is more than over men
And matter worthy queen Remembrance' pen;
But that that tangles both our thoughts and minds,
To master that, is more than over men
To make thy triumph: sith, to strength alone
Of body it belongs, to bruise or wound;
But raging thoughts to quell, or few or none,
Save Virtue's imps, are able champions found;
Of body it belongs, to bruise or wound;
But raging thoughts to quell, or few or none,
Save Virtue's imps, are able champions found;
Or those whom Jove hath lov'd; or noble of birth:
So strong Alcides, Jove's unconquer'd son,
Did lift Achelous' body from the earth,
To shew what deeds by Virtue's strength are done:
So strong Alcides, Jove's unconquer'd son,
Did lift Achelous' body from the earth,
To shew what deeds by Virtue's strength are done:
250
So him he foil'd; and put to sudden flight,
By aim of wit, the foul Stimphalides!
And while we say, he master'd men by might,
Behold in person of this Hercules,
By aim of wit, the foul Stimphalides!
And while we say, he master'd men by might,
Behold in person of this Hercules,
It liketh me to figure Chastity;
His labour like that foul unclean desire,
That under guide of tickling fantasy
Would mar the mind through pleasure's scorching fire.
His labour like that foul unclean desire,
That under guide of tickling fantasy
Would mar the mind through pleasure's scorching fire.
And who hath seen a fair alluring face,
A lusty girl, yclad in quaint array,
Whose dainty hand makes music with her lace,
And tempts thy thoughts, and steals thy sense away:
A lusty girl, yclad in quaint array,
Whose dainty hand makes music with her lace,
And tempts thy thoughts, and steals thy sense away:
Whose ticing hair, like nets of golden wire,
Enchain thy heart; whose gait and voice divine
Enflame thy blood, and kindle thy desire;
Whose features wrap and dazzle human eyne:
Enchain thy heart; whose gait and voice divine
Enflame thy blood, and kindle thy desire;
Whose features wrap and dazzle human eyne:
Who hath beheld fair Venus in her pride
Of nakedness, all alabaster white,
In ivory bed, strait laid by Mars his side,
And hath not been enchanted with the sight;
Of nakedness, all alabaster white,
In ivory bed, strait laid by Mars his side,
And hath not been enchanted with the sight;
To wish to dally, and to offer game,
To coy, to court, et cætera to do;
(Forgive me, Chastness, if in terms of shame,
To thy renown, I paint what longs thereto.)
To coy, to court, et cætera to do;
(Forgive me, Chastness, if in terms of shame,
To thy renown, I paint what longs thereto.)
251
Who hath not liv'd, and yet hath seen, I say,
That might offend chaste hearers to endure?
Who hath been haled on to touch and play,
And yet not stoopt to pleasure's wanton lure;
That might offend chaste hearers to endure?
Who hath been haled on to touch and play,
And yet not stoopt to pleasure's wanton lure;
Crown him with laurel for his victory,
Clad him in purple, and in scarlet dye,
Enroll his name in books of memory,
Ne let the honour of his conquest die!
Clad him in purple, and in scarlet dye,
Enroll his name in books of memory,
Ne let the honour of his conquest die!
More royal in his triumph, than the man
Whom tigers drew in coach of burnish'd gold;
In whom the Roman monarchy began,
Whose works of worth no wit hath erst controll'd:
Whom tigers drew in coach of burnish'd gold;
In whom the Roman monarchy began,
Whose works of worth no wit hath erst controll'd:
Elysium be his walk, high heaven his shrine,
His drink sweet nectar, and ambrosia
The food that makes immortal and divine,
Be his to taste, to make him live for aye!
His drink sweet nectar, and ambrosia
The food that makes immortal and divine,
Be his to taste, to make him live for aye!
And that I may, in brief, describe his due,
What lasting honour Virtue's guerdon is,
So much and more his just desert pursue,
Sith his desert awards it to be his.
What lasting honour Virtue's guerdon is,
So much and more his just desert pursue,
Sith his desert awards it to be his.
L'ENVOY.
To thee, in honour of whose governmentEntitled is—this praise of Chastity,
252
So flowereth Virtue like the laurel-tree,
Immortal green that every eye may see:
And well was Daphne turn'd into the bay,
Whose Chasteness triumphs, grows, and lives for aye!
253
CORIDON AND MELAMPUS' SONG
Cor.Melampus, when will Love be void of fears?
Mel.
When Jealousy hath neither eyes nor ears.
Cor.
Melampus, when will Love be throughly shriev'd?
Mel.
When it is hard to speak, and not believ'd.
Cor.
Melampus, when is Love most mal-content?
Mel.
When lovers range, and bear their bows unbent.
Cor.
Melampus, tell me when Love takes least harm?
Mel.
When swains' sweet pipes are puft, and trulls are warm.
Cor.
Melampus, tell me when is Love best fed?
Mel.
When it has suckt the sweet that ease hath bred.
Cor.
Melampus, when is time in Love ill spent?
Mel.
When it earns meed and yet receives no rent.
Cor.
Melampus, when is time well spent in Love?
Mel.
When deeds win meed, and words love works do prove.
259
THE HUNTING OF CUPID,
BY GEORGE PEELE OF OXFORD, PASTORAL.
On the snowie browes of Albion. sueet woodes sueet running brookes, yt chide in a pleasant tune and make quiet murmur, leaving the lilies, mints and waterflowers in ther gentle glide. making her face the marke of his wondring eies and his eyes the messengers of his woundit hart. Like a candle keepith but a litil roome zet blazeth round about. Heardgroome wt his strauberrie lasse. Some wt his sueet hart making false position putting a schort sillabe wher a long one should be. some a
260
What thing is love (for wel I wot) love is a thing
it is a pricke, it is a sting
it is a prettie, prettie thing
it is a fire, it is a cole
whose flame creepes in at eurie hole.
and is [as] my wit doth best devise
loves dwelling is in ladys eies:
from whence do glance loves piercing darts
that mak such holes into or harts
and al the world herin accord
love is a great and mightie lord
And when he list to mount so hie
With Venus he in heaven doth lie
And ever more hath been a god
Since Mars and sche plaid even and od.
Kis a litle and use not.
Q.
why kissings good.
R.
to stirre zour bloud to make zou wel dispos'd to play. ab aquilone omne malum. wold have moued teares in vreath herselfe. wrinckled sorrow sate in furrowes of a faire face. famous for his il fortune. zou that think ther is no heaven but on earth. zou that sucke poison insteed of honney. he excedeth fiends in crueltie and fortune in unconstancie.
set up Cynthea by day and Citherea by nigt sche strakid his head and mist his hornes. who bluntly bespake her grew this sueet rose in this soure stalke
261
At Venus entreate for Cupid her sone
these arrowes by Vlcan are cunningly done
the first is love the second shafte is hate
but this is hope from whence sueet comfort springs
this jelousie in bassest minds doth duell
his mettall Vlcan's Cyclops fetcht from Hel
these arrowes by Vlcan are cunningly done
the first is love the second shafte is hate
but this is hope from whence sueet comfort springs
this jelousie in bassest minds doth duell
his mettall Vlcan's Cyclops fetcht from Hel
a smaking kis that wakt me wt the dine knew good and eschew it praise chastnesse and follow lustful love like the old [OMITTED] al quicklie com home by weeping crosse. highest imperial orbe and throne of the thunder Et non morieris inultus. schelter and shade. holdeth them faster than Vlcan's fine wires kept Mars. a song to be sung for a wager a dish of damsons new gathered off the trees.
Melampus when wil love be voide of feares
when jelousie hath nather eies nor eires
Melampus tel me when is love best fed
when it hath sucke the sueet yt ease hath bred
when jelousie hath nather eies nor eires
Melampus tel me when is love best fed
when it hath sucke the sueet yt ease hath bred
Licoris as sueet to him as licorice. Cor sapit et [OMITTED] a hot liver must be in a lover. To commend anay thing is the Italian way of crauing. my hart is like a point of geometrie indiuisible, and wher it goes it goes al.
Hard hart that did thy reed (poore shephard) brake
thy reed yt was the trumpet of thy wit
Zet thought unworthie sound thy phenix's praise
and with this slender pipe her glorie raise
Cupid enraged to see a thousand boyes
as faire as he sit shooting in her eies
fell doune and sche
pIuckt al his plumes and made herselfe a fan
suering him her true litle seruing man.
Muse chuse
My mistres feeds the ayre ayre feeds not her
lyt of the lyt sche is, delyt supreame.
Zet so far from the lytness of her sex
for sche is the bird whose name doth end in X.
Not clouds cast from the spungie element
nor darknesse shot from Orcus pitchie eyes
Zet both her shines vailed wt her arche beauties
her words such quickning odors cast
as raise the sicke and make the soundest thinke
ayre is not wholsome, til her walke be past
more then the fontaynes til the vnicornes drinke
a thousand echoes vat upon her voice.
thy reed yt was the trumpet of thy wit
Zet thought unworthie sound thy phenix's praise
and with this slender pipe her glorie raise
262
as faire as he sit shooting in her eies
fell doune and sche
pIuckt al his plumes and made herselfe a fan
suering him her true litle seruing man.
Muse chuse
My mistres feeds the ayre ayre feeds not her
lyt of the lyt sche is, delyt supreame.
Zet so far from the lytness of her sex
for sche is the bird whose name doth end in X.
Not clouds cast from the spungie element
nor darknesse shot from Orcus pitchie eyes
Zet both her shines vailed wt her arche beauties
her words such quickning odors cast
as raise the sicke and make the soundest thinke
ayre is not wholsome, til her walke be past
more then the fontaynes til the vnicornes drinke
a thousand echoes vat upon her voice.
Cupid.
Those milkie mounts he eurie morning hants
wher to their drink his mothers doues he calls.
in my younger dayes when my witts ran a wool gathering
some prettie lye he coined.
| The works (1829-1839) | |