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] |
 |
 |
|
The History of Pyramus and Thisbie truely translated.
|
 | A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions |  |
The History of Pyramus and Thisbie truely translated.
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.
O great
Goddesse, of whose immortal fire,
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.
Uertue in Erbe, might neuer quench the flame:
Ne mortall sence, yet to such skill aspire,
As for loues hurt a medecine once to name:
With what deare price, my carefull pyned ghost,
Hath tried this true, and ouer true alas:
My greefeful eyes, that sight hath almost lost,
And brest through darted, with thy golden Mace.
Full well declare, though all that mee beholde,
Are iudges, and wonders of my deadly wo:
But thou alone, mayst helpe therfore vnfolde,
Els helples (Lady) streight will knap in two
The feeble thread, yet stayes my lingering life.
Wherfore, if loue, thy sacred Goddes brest?
Did euer presse, or if most dreadly griefe,
And causeles not thy inward soule opprest:
When crooked Vulcane, to your common shame,
Bewrayed of stolen ioyes, thy sweet delight:
Caus'd you refrayne your Louers wished sight:
And forst restraynt did equall then impart,
And cause you taste, what payne in loue may bee:
When absence driues, assured hartes to part.
Thy pitty then (O Queene) now not denye
To mee poore wretch, who feeles no lesse a payne:
If humayne brests, so much as heauenly may:
Haue ruthe on him, who doth to thee complayne,
And onely helpe of thee, doth lowly pray:
Graunt Goddesse mine, thou mayst it vndertake,
At least wise (Lady) ere this life decay:
Graunt I beseeche so happy mee to make,
That yet by worde, I may to her bewray
My wonderous woes: and then if yee so please,
Looke when you lust, let death my body ease.
Thus
praying fast, ful fraught with cares, I leaue this wofull man,
And turne I will to greater greefe, then minde immagin can:
But who now shall them writ since wit, denayeth the some to thinke,
Confusedly in Thisbies brest, that flow aboue the brinke?
Not, I for though of mine owne store, I want no woes to write,
Yet lacke I termes and cunning both, them aptly to recite.
For Cūnings clyffe I neuer clombe, nor dranke of Science spring
Ne slept vpon the happy hill, frō whence Dame Rhetorique rings.
And therfore all, I doo omit, and wholy them resigne,
To iudgment of such wofull Dames, as in like case hath bin.
And turne I will to greater greefe, then minde immagin can:
But who now shall them writ since wit, denayeth the some to thinke,
Confusedly in Thisbies brest, that flow aboue the brinke?
Not, I for though of mine owne store, I want no woes to write,
Yet lacke I termes and cunning both, them aptly to recite.
For Cūnings clyffe I neuer clombe, nor dranke of Science spring
Ne slept vpon the happy hill, frō whence Dame Rhetorique rings.
And therfore all, I doo omit, and wholy them resigne,
To iudgment of such wofull Dames, as in like case hath bin.
This will I tel how Thisbie thus, opprest with dollors all,
Doth finde none ease but day and night, her Pyramus to call:
For lost is slepe and banisht is, all gladsome lightes delight,
In short of case and euery helpe, eche meane shee hath in spight:
In langor long, this life shee led, till hap as fortune pleased,
To further fates that fast ensue, with her own thought her eased:
For this shee thinkes, what distance may, or mansions bee between
Or where now stands so cruell wall, to part them as is seene
O feeble wit forduld with woe, awake thy wandering thought,
Seeke out, thou shalt assured finde, shall bring thy cares to nought.
With this some hope, nay, as it were a new reuiued minde,
Did promis straight her pensiue hart, immediate helpe to finde:
And forth she steres, wt swifted pace, ech place she seeks throughout
No stay may let her hasty foote, till all be vewed about.
Wherby at length from all the rest, a wall aloofe that lyes,
And cornerwise did buyldings part, with ioyful eye shee spyes:
And scarcely then her pearcing looke, one blinke therof had got,
But that firme hope of good successe, within her fancy shot:
Then fast her eye shee roules about, and fast shee seekes to see,
If any meane may there bee found, her comfort for to bee:
And as her carefull looke shee cast, and euery part aright
Had vewed wel, a litle rifte appeared to her fight,
Which (as it seemed) through the wall, the course the issue had:
Wherwith shee sayd (O happy wall) mayst thou so blist be made,
That yet sometimes within thy bandes, my dere hart Pyramus:
Thou doost possesse if hap so worke, I will assay thee thus.
And from about the heauenly shape, her midle did present
Shee did vnlose heer girdle riche, and pendent therof hent.
And with her fingers long and small, on tipto so shee wrought,
That through the wall to open sight, she hath the pendant brought
That doone shee stayes, and to the wall she closely layes her eare,
To vnderstand if any wight, on th' other side yet were:
And whiles to harken thus shee stands, a wonderous thing behold
Poore Pyramus in Venus Church, that all his minde had tolde.
Performed his vowes and prayers eke, now ended all and dun,
Doth to his Chamber fast returne, with hart right wo begun:
Euen to the same where Thisbie stayd, to see if fortune please,
To smooth her browes and her distresse, with any helpe to ease:
Hee as his woonted vsage was, the Chamber once within,
Lockes fast the doore with fresh complaynts, new sorrow to begin.
But euen lo as his backe hee turned vnto the closed dore,
Aglimpse of light the pendant gaue, his visage iust before:
Let in his face, with speedy pace, and as hee nearer drew,
With wel contented minde forthwith, his Thisbies signe he knew
And when his trembling hand for ioy, the same receyued had,
And hee ten hundreth times it kist, then thus to it hee sayd.
Doth finde none ease but day and night, her Pyramus to call:
For lost is slepe and banisht is, all gladsome lightes delight,
In short of case and euery helpe, eche meane shee hath in spight:
In langor long, this life shee led, till hap as fortune pleased,
To further fates that fast ensue, with her own thought her eased:
For this shee thinkes, what distance may, or mansions bee between
Or where now stands so cruell wall, to part them as is seene
O feeble wit forduld with woe, awake thy wandering thought,
Seeke out, thou shalt assured finde, shall bring thy cares to nought.
Did promis straight her pensiue hart, immediate helpe to finde:
And forth she steres, wt swifted pace, ech place she seeks throughout
No stay may let her hasty foote, till all be vewed about.
Wherby at length from all the rest, a wall aloofe that lyes,
And cornerwise did buyldings part, with ioyful eye shee spyes:
And scarcely then her pearcing looke, one blinke therof had got,
But that firme hope of good successe, within her fancy shot:
Then fast her eye shee roules about, and fast shee seekes to see,
If any meane may there bee found, her comfort for to bee:
And as her carefull looke shee cast, and euery part aright
Had vewed wel, a litle rifte appeared to her fight,
Which (as it seemed) through the wall, the course the issue had:
Wherwith shee sayd (O happy wall) mayst thou so blist be made,
That yet sometimes within thy bandes, my dere hart Pyramus:
Thou doost possesse if hap so worke, I will assay thee thus.
And from about the heauenly shape, her midle did present
Shee did vnlose heer girdle riche, and pendent therof hent.
And with her fingers long and small, on tipto so shee wrought,
That through the wall to open sight, she hath the pendant brought
That doone shee stayes, and to the wall she closely layes her eare,
To vnderstand if any wight, on th' other side yet were:
And whiles to harken thus shee stands, a wonderous thing behold
Poore Pyramus in Venus Church, that all his minde had tolde.
Performed his vowes and prayers eke, now ended all and dun,
Doth to his Chamber fast returne, with hart right wo begun:
Euen to the same where Thisbie stayd, to see if fortune please,
To smooth her browes and her distresse, with any helpe to ease:
Hee as his woonted vsage was, the Chamber once within,
Lockes fast the doore with fresh complaynts, new sorrow to begin.
But euen lo as his backe hee turned vnto the closed dore,
Aglimpse of light the pendant gaue, his visage iust before:
Let in his face, with speedy pace, and as hee nearer drew,
With wel contented minde forthwith, his Thisbies signe he knew
And when his trembling hand for ioy, the same receyued had,
And hee ten hundreth times it kist, then thus to it hee sayd.
And blisse redust, to carefull pyned ghost:
Yet mayst thou sweare, that neuer lyued hee yet.
Who halfe such ease, receiued in pleasure most:
As thou sweete pendant, now in wofull brest
Impersid hast, O happy Pyramus,
Nay beeing a Lady, in whom such ruthe can rest:
Most blisfull Lady, most mighty Venus,
And mighty Thisbie (yea) Venus not displeased,
My Goddesse cheefe, my loue, my life and all:
For who but Thisbie would, nay could haue eased,
A hart remedyles, abandon thrall:
Wherfore since thus ye please, to show your might,
Make mee whole happy, with gladnesse of your sight.
Whiles
Pyramus all clad in ioy, thus talkes within the wall,
No lesse content, doth Thisbie stand without and heareth al:
And wt those gladsom lightes, where loue doth sightly ioy to play,
And vanquish harts her loue shee vewes in minde somwhat to say
But maydēly feare plucks backe ye word, dread stops her trimbling tongue,
A rossy hew inflames her face, with staine of red among.
Yet lo at length her minde shee stayes, her sences doo awake,
And with a sweet soft sounding voyce, this answer doth she make.
No lesse content, doth Thisbie stand without and heareth al:
And wt those gladsom lightes, where loue doth sightly ioy to play,
And vanquish harts her loue shee vewes in minde somwhat to say
But maydēly feare plucks backe ye word, dread stops her trimbling tongue,
A rossy hew inflames her face, with staine of red among.
Yet lo at length her minde shee stayes, her sences doo awake,
And with a sweet soft sounding voyce, this answer doth she make.
Loue Pyramus, more deare to mee then lyfe,
Euen as I first this way, for speech haue found:
Of present death, so let the dreadfull knyfe,
At this instant for euer mee confound:
If ioyfull thought my passing pensiue harte,
Did euer pearse, since parents cruell dome.
Pronounst the sentence, of our common smart,
No deare hart mine, for how alasse may blome:
The fading tree, whose sap deuided is,
Ye, further sweet, I dare with you presume:
Your passed woes, but pastimes ware I wis,
In their respect, that did mee whole consume.
But now sharpe sighes, so stop my willing speeche,
Such streames of teares, doo dim my troubled sight:
And inward feare, of parents wrath is such,
Least longer talke, should giue them any light
Of our repayre, that further to recyte,
My heaped yls I neuer dare ne may,
Yet oftenly, wee wisely heare may meete:
At chosen times which shall vs not bewray,
And this for short, thy Thisbie shalt thou see:
With morning light, here present eft to bee,
To this full fayne would Pyramus, replyed haue agayne,
But part as neede, inforst they must, & as they did ordayne:
Ere mornings dawne they doo arise & straight repayre they then
Unto the fore appoynted place, Pyrame thus began.
Euen as I first this way, for speech haue found:
Of present death, so let the dreadfull knyfe,
At this instant for euer mee confound:
If ioyfull thought my passing pensiue harte,
Did euer pearse, since parents cruell dome.
Pronounst the sentence, of our common smart,
No deare hart mine, for how alasse may blome:
The fading tree, whose sap deuided is,
Ye, further sweet, I dare with you presume:
Your passed woes, but pastimes ware I wis,
In their respect, that did mee whole consume.
But now sharpe sighes, so stop my willing speeche,
Such streames of teares, doo dim my troubled sight:
Least longer talke, should giue them any light
Of our repayre, that further to recyte,
My heaped yls I neuer dare ne may,
Yet oftenly, wee wisely heare may meete:
At chosen times which shall vs not bewray,
And this for short, thy Thisbie shalt thou see:
With morning light, here present eft to bee,
To this full fayne would Pyramus, replyed haue agayne,
But part as neede, inforst they must, & as they did ordayne:
Ere mornings dawne they doo arise & straight repayre they then
Unto the fore appoynted place, Pyrame thus began.
Myne
entyer soule, what prison dollours?
What hard distresse, and rare deuysed woes?
Of mee thine owne, thy captiue Pyramus,
Haue so sought, this life from boddy to vnlose:
Hard were to tell the tenth, that haue it strained,
With thought hereof, great wonders mee amaze:
How my poore lyfe, the halfe may haue sustayned,
O Thisbie mine owne, whom it only stayes.
And at whose will the fates doo lend mee breath,
Yet may I not the fatall stroke eschew:
Ne scape the dinte of fast pursuing death,
Onles your bounty, present mercy shew:
And this I trust, there may no ielous thought,
Haue any place within my Thisbies brest:
To cause her deeme, I am or may be caught.
With loue but hers wheron my life doth rest,
No bee assured, for yours I onely taste:
Yours was the first, and shall bee first and last,
What hard distresse, and rare deuysed woes?
Of mee thine owne, thy captiue Pyramus,
Haue so sought, this life from boddy to vnlose:
Hard were to tell the tenth, that haue it strained,
With thought hereof, great wonders mee amaze:
How my poore lyfe, the halfe may haue sustayned,
O Thisbie mine owne, whom it only stayes.
And at whose will the fates doo lend mee breath,
Yet may I not the fatall stroke eschew:
Ne scape the dinte of fast pursuing death,
Onles your bounty, present mercy shew:
And this I trust, there may no ielous thought,
Haue any place within my Thisbies brest:
To cause her deeme, I am or may be caught.
With loue but hers wheron my life doth rest,
No bee assured, for yours I onely taste:
Yours was the first, and shall bee first and last,
Why my most sweet (quoth Thisbie) then agayne:
I doubt not I, but know ye are all true,
Or how may cause of your vndoubted payne:
With her be hyd, who hourely as it grew,
None other felt, but euen what yee haue had:
Yet thinke not sweet, I taste your greefes alone,
Or make esteeme, as yee of mee haue made,
But ten times more, if that more wo begone,
Might euer bee a wretched maydens brest,
Where neuer yet, one iot of ioy might rest.
Well then my ioy, (quoth Pyrame) since yee please,
With so greater loue, to guerdon my good will:
Safe am I now, but great were mine ease,
If more at full, I might my fancy fill:
With nearer sight, of your most pleasant face,
Or if I might, your dayntie fingers straine:
Or as I woont, your body once embrace,
What say I ease? nay heauen then were my gayne.
Howbeit in vayne, in vayne (ay mee) I waste,
Both worde and winde, woes mee (alas) therfore:
For neuer shall my hart, O Thisbie taste,
So great an hap, nor neuer shall wee more:
In folded armes, as woont were to bewray,
Eche others state, ne neuer get the grace:
Of any ioy, vnlesse wee doo assay,
To finde some meane for other meeting place.
Beholde (alas) this wicked cruell wall,
Whose cursed scyte, denayeth vs perfect sight:
Much more the hap, of other ease at all.
What if I should by force, as well one might:
And yet deserues, it batter flat to ground,
And open so, an issue large to make:
Yet feare I sore, this sooner will redownde,
To our reproche, if it I vndertake:
As glad I would, then vs to helpe or ayde,
Sweet hart (quoth shee) wherwith shee stopt his tale:
This standes full yll: to purpose to be made,
And time it askes, too long for to preuayle:
Without suspect, to flat or batter euen,
Naythlesse, yee this, or what ye can deuise:
For our repayre, by thought that may be driuen,
Say but the meane, I will none otherwise.
Yee Thisbie mine, in sooth, and say you so
(Quoth Pyramus) well then I doo you know:
Where King Minus, lyes buried long ago,
Whose auncient Tombe aboue, doth ouergrow
A Mulbery, with braunches making shade,
Of pleasant show, the place right large about:
There if yee please, when slepe hath ouerlade,
And with his might, the Cittie seas'de throughout:
At the same Well, whose siluer streames then runne,
And softe as silke, conserue the tender greene:
With hue so fresh, as springtied spent and dunne,
No winters weede, hath power to bee seene:
Without suspect, or feare of foule report,
There goddesse mine, wee salfely may resort.
I doubt not I, but know ye are all true,
Or how may cause of your vndoubted payne:
With her be hyd, who hourely as it grew,
None other felt, but euen what yee haue had:
Yet thinke not sweet, I taste your greefes alone,
But ten times more, if that more wo begone,
Might euer bee a wretched maydens brest,
Where neuer yet, one iot of ioy might rest.
Well then my ioy, (quoth Pyrame) since yee please,
With so greater loue, to guerdon my good will:
Safe am I now, but great were mine ease,
If more at full, I might my fancy fill:
With nearer sight, of your most pleasant face,
Or if I might, your dayntie fingers straine:
Or as I woont, your body once embrace,
What say I ease? nay heauen then were my gayne.
Howbeit in vayne, in vayne (ay mee) I waste,
Both worde and winde, woes mee (alas) therfore:
For neuer shall my hart, O Thisbie taste,
So great an hap, nor neuer shall wee more:
In folded armes, as woont were to bewray,
Eche others state, ne neuer get the grace:
Of any ioy, vnlesse wee doo assay,
To finde some meane for other meeting place.
Beholde (alas) this wicked cruell wall,
Whose cursed scyte, denayeth vs perfect sight:
Much more the hap, of other ease at all.
What if I should by force, as well one might:
And yet deserues, it batter flat to ground,
And open so, an issue large to make:
Yet feare I sore, this sooner will redownde,
To our reproche, if it I vndertake:
As glad I would, then vs to helpe or ayde,
Sweet hart (quoth shee) wherwith shee stopt his tale:
This standes full yll: to purpose to be made,
And time it askes, too long for to preuayle:
Without suspect, to flat or batter euen,
Naythlesse, yee this, or what ye can deuise:
For our repayre, by thought that may be driuen,
Say but the meane, I will none otherwise.
(Quoth Pyramus) well then I doo you know:
Where King Minus, lyes buried long ago,
Whose auncient Tombe aboue, doth ouergrow
A Mulbery, with braunches making shade,
Of pleasant show, the place right large about:
There if yee please, when slepe hath ouerlade,
And with his might, the Cittie seas'de throughout:
At the same Well, whose siluer streames then runne,
And softe as silke, conserue the tender greene:
With hue so fresh, as springtied spent and dunne,
No winters weede, hath power to bee seene:
Without suspect, or feare of foule report,
There goddesse mine, wee salfely may resort.
To
this shee said, what shee best thought, and oft and oft agayne,
Was talke renued, but yet at last, for ease of euery payne:
And death to eschue by other meane, who will them not forsake,
At Minus Tombe, euen yt same night, they do their meeting make
And so depart, but sore God wot, that day doth them offend,
And though but short his long abode, the feare will neuer end.
And sooner doth not cloake of night, alofte his shadow cast,
But Thisbie mindefull of her loue, and promis lately past
Of fresh new loue, far fiercer flames, that erst her hart opprest,
Shee feelth the force, and this (alas) deuorced stil from rest:
Shee passeth forth in carefull watch, till time haue shapen so,
That slepe wt sweet, soft stealing steps his customd vsage do
And when shee seeth both house and all drownd therin fast & deepe,
With fearful pace & trimbling hand, shee forwards gins to creepe:
Shee gaines the doore, out goeth she then, & neyther far ne neare,
Appeareth wyght saue Phebe fayre, with gladsom seeming cheare
Sole Thisbie ioyfull of this guyde, doth ay I trust it bee,
Good lucke thy presence doth import, and bring at last to mee:
More hardyer then before shee did, prouoke her foote to hast,
No obiect gives her cause of let, till shee the towne haue past:
And when shee seeth the pleasant fields in safetie to haue gayned,
Then ioy therof all dread deuoures, which erst her only payned.
What wil ye more, th' appointed place at length she doth attayne,
Till Fortune please her loue to send, there minding to remayne:
And whiles shee doth the foūtayn cleare, wt thoughtful hope behold
And euery let, her loue may stay, vnto her selfe vnfolde.
A dreadfull Lyon downe desendes, from Mountaine huge therby,
With thundring pace, whose sodain sight, whē Thisbie can espy:
No maruel was though terror then, & straungenes of the sight,
Within a simple maydens brest, all counsayle put to flight.
Howbeit, though counsayle fayld, yet feare so did ye place possesse,
That as the tender brest, whose age no feare did yet oppresse:
Now seeth his foe, with rauening Iaw, him ready to receaue,
Sets winges vnto his littell legs, himselfe poore foole to saue.
Euen so this Mayd, her enemy flees, vnto a hollow tree:
For succor flyes, whose ruthful mone, did succor not denye:
But close her keepes. The Liones fearce, that in the Mountayne wilde,
Deuoured had, new slaughtred beastes, & empty belly filde:
With moossell all embrude with blood, drawes to the cristal Well,
Hee dranke, and in his backe returne, this fatall hap befell.
Was talke renued, but yet at last, for ease of euery payne:
And death to eschue by other meane, who will them not forsake,
At Minus Tombe, euen yt same night, they do their meeting make
And so depart, but sore God wot, that day doth them offend,
And though but short his long abode, the feare will neuer end.
And sooner doth not cloake of night, alofte his shadow cast,
But Thisbie mindefull of her loue, and promis lately past
Of fresh new loue, far fiercer flames, that erst her hart opprest,
Shee feelth the force, and this (alas) deuorced stil from rest:
Shee passeth forth in carefull watch, till time haue shapen so,
That slepe wt sweet, soft stealing steps his customd vsage do
And when shee seeth both house and all drownd therin fast & deepe,
With fearful pace & trimbling hand, shee forwards gins to creepe:
Shee gaines the doore, out goeth she then, & neyther far ne neare,
Appeareth wyght saue Phebe fayre, with gladsom seeming cheare
Sole Thisbie ioyfull of this guyde, doth ay I trust it bee,
Good lucke thy presence doth import, and bring at last to mee:
More hardyer then before shee did, prouoke her foote to hast,
No obiect gives her cause of let, till shee the towne haue past:
And when shee seeth the pleasant fields in safetie to haue gayned,
Then ioy therof all dread deuoures, which erst her only payned.
Till Fortune please her loue to send, there minding to remayne:
And whiles shee doth the foūtayn cleare, wt thoughtful hope behold
And euery let, her loue may stay, vnto her selfe vnfolde.
A dreadfull Lyon downe desendes, from Mountaine huge therby,
With thundring pace, whose sodain sight, whē Thisbie can espy:
No maruel was though terror then, & straungenes of the sight,
Within a simple maydens brest, all counsayle put to flight.
Howbeit, though counsayle fayld, yet feare so did ye place possesse,
That as the tender brest, whose age no feare did yet oppresse:
Now seeth his foe, with rauening Iaw, him ready to receaue,
Sets winges vnto his littell legs, himselfe poore foole to saue.
Euen so this Mayd, her enemy flees, vnto a hollow tree:
For succor flyes, whose ruthful mone, did succor not denye:
But close her keepes. The Liones fearce, that in the Mountayne wilde,
Deuoured had, new slaughtred beastes, & empty belly filde:
With moossell all embrude with blood, drawes to the cristal Well,
Hee dranke, and in his backe returne, this fatall hap befell.
Amid this way a kercheife white, which frighted Thisbie had
Let fall by chaunce, as feare and haste, vnto the tree her lad:
This Lion findes, and with his mouth, yet smoaking all in gore,
And armid pawes it staynes with blood, and all in sunder tore.
That doone away hee windes, as fier of Hell, or Vulcans thunder
Blew in his tayle, or as his corps it seas'd to teare a sunder:
Let fall by chaunce, as feare and haste, vnto the tree her lad:
This Lion findes, and with his mouth, yet smoaking all in gore,
And armid pawes it staynes with blood, and all in sunder tore.
That doone away hee windes, as fier of Hell, or Vulcans thunder
Blew in his tayle, or as his corps it seas'd to teare a sunder:
Now Pyramus who could not earst, the wrathfull house forgo,
Hath past the towne, and as hee drew the Fountayn neare vnto:
The cloth hee spies, which when (alas) all stained so hee saw,
In sunder tore, the ground about, full traste with Lyons paw:
The Siluer streames with strekes of blood, besprent and troubled new,
And there again ye cursed trace, the woful print to shew:
A sure beleefe did straight inuade, his ouerlyuing minde,
That there the fatall ende (alas) of Thisbie was assinde:
And that her dainty flesh, of beastes a pray vnmeet was made,
Wherwith distrest with woodlike rage, the words he out abrade.
Hath past the towne, and as hee drew the Fountayn neare vnto:
The cloth hee spies, which when (alas) all stained so hee saw,
In sunder tore, the ground about, full traste with Lyons paw:
The Siluer streames with strekes of blood, besprent and troubled new,
And there again ye cursed trace, the woful print to shew:
A sure beleefe did straight inuade, his ouerlyuing minde,
That there the fatall ende (alas) of Thisbie was assinde:
And that her dainty flesh, of beastes a pray vnmeet was made,
Wherwith distrest with woodlike rage, the words he out abrade.
The lamentacion of Piramus, for the losse of his Loue Thisbie.
This is the day wherin my irksome life,And I of lyuely breath, the last shall spend:
Nor death I dread, for fled is feare, care, strife,
Daunger and all, wheron they did depend:
Thisbie is dead, and Pirame at his ende,
For neuer shall reporte hereafter say:
That Pyrame lyu'de, his Lady tane away.
O soueraigne God, what straung outragious woe,
Presents (alas) this corsiue to my hart:
Ah sauage beaste, how durst thy spight vndoe,
Or seeke (woes mee) so perfect loue to part:
O Thisbie mine, that was, and only art,
My liues defence, and I the cause alone:
Of thy decay, and mine eternall mone.
Come Lyon thou, whose rage here only shew,
Aduaunce with speede, and doo mee eke deuoure:
For ruthlesse fact, so shalt thou pitty shew,
And mee (too) heere, within thy brest restore:
Where wee shall rest, togeather euermore.
Ah, since thy corps, thou graues within thy wombe,
Denye mee not sweet beast, the selfesame tombe.
(Alas my ioy) thou parted art from mee,
By far more cruell meane, then woonted fine:
Or common law, of nature doth decree,
And that encreaseth, for woe, this greefe of mine:
Of that beautie only, which was deuine,
And soueraigne most, of all that liued here:
No litle signe, may found be any where,
If the dead corps (alas, did yet remayne:
O great cruelty, O rage of fortune spight,
More greeuous far, then any tongue may fayne:
To reue her life, and in my more despight,
Mee to defraude of that my last delight:
To kisse full ofte, and as I should bewayle.
But since from mee thou hast the meane outchast,
Of this poore ioy, thy might I heere defie:
For maugre thee, and all the power thou hast,
In Plutœs raigne togeather will wee bee:
And you my loue, since you are dead for mee,
Good reason is, that I for you agayne:
Receiue no lesse but euen the selfsame payne.
Ah Mulberie, thou witnes of our woe,
Right vnder thee assigned was, the place
Of all our ioy, but thou our common foo,
Consented hast, vnto her death alas:
Of beauty all, that had alone the grace,
And therfore as the cheefe of others all,
Let men the Tree of deadly woe thee call.
Graunt our great God, for honor of thy name,
A guerdon of the woe, wee shall here haue:
For I nill liue, shee dead that rulde the same,
Pronounce (O Pluto) from thy hollow Caue:
Where stayes thy raigne, and let this tree receiue,
Such sentence iust, as may a witnesse bee,
Of dollour most, to all that shall it see.
And
with those wordes, his naked blade hee fiersly frō his side
Out drew, & through his brest, it forst wt mortal woūd to glide,
The streames of gory blood out glush, but hee wt manly hart,
Careles, of death and euery payne, that death could them imparte.
His Thisbies kercheefe hard hee straines, & kist with stedfast chere
And harder strainde, and ofter kist, as death him drew more nere
The Mulberies whose hue before, had euer white lo beene,
To blackish collour straight transformed, & black ay since are seen.
And Thisbie then who all that while, had kept the hollow tree,
Least hap her Louers long aboad, may seeme him mockt to bee.
Shakes of all feare, and passeth foorth in hope her loue to tell,
What terror great shee late was in, and wonderous case her fel:
But whē she doth approche ye tree, whose fruits trāsformed were
Abasht she stands, & musing much, how black they should appere.
Her Pyramus with sights profound, and broken voyce yt plained,
Shee hard: and him a kerchefe saw, how hee hit kist and strained:
Shee neuer drew, but whē the sword, and gaping wound she saw,
The anguish great, shee had therof, her caus'd to ouerthrow
In deadly swoone, and to her selfe shee beeing come agayne,
With pittious playnts, and deadly dole, her loue shee did cōplayne
That doone, shee did her body leane, and on him softly lay,
She kist his face, whose collour fresh, is spent and falne away:
Then to ye sword these woords she sayth: thou sword of bitter gall,
Thou hast bereaued mee my Loue, my comfort ioy and all.
With that deare blood (woes me) of his thy cursed blade doth shine
Wherfore thinke not thou canst be free, to shed the same of mine,
In life no meane, though wee it sought, vs to assemble could,
Death shall, who hath already his, & mine shall straight vnfolde.
And you O Gods, this last request, for ruthe yet graunt it mee,
That as one death wee should receiue, one Tombe our graue may bee,
With yt agayn she oft him kist, & then shee speaketh thus:
Out drew, & through his brest, it forst wt mortal woūd to glide,
The streames of gory blood out glush, but hee wt manly hart,
Careles, of death and euery payne, that death could them imparte.
His Thisbies kercheefe hard hee straines, & kist with stedfast chere
And harder strainde, and ofter kist, as death him drew more nere
The Mulberies whose hue before, had euer white lo beene,
To blackish collour straight transformed, & black ay since are seen.
And Thisbie then who all that while, had kept the hollow tree,
Least hap her Louers long aboad, may seeme him mockt to bee.
Shakes of all feare, and passeth foorth in hope her loue to tell,
What terror great shee late was in, and wonderous case her fel:
Abasht she stands, & musing much, how black they should appere.
Her Pyramus with sights profound, and broken voyce yt plained,
Shee hard: and him a kerchefe saw, how hee hit kist and strained:
Shee neuer drew, but whē the sword, and gaping wound she saw,
The anguish great, shee had therof, her caus'd to ouerthrow
In deadly swoone, and to her selfe shee beeing come agayne,
With pittious playnts, and deadly dole, her loue shee did cōplayne
That doone, shee did her body leane, and on him softly lay,
She kist his face, whose collour fresh, is spent and falne away:
Then to ye sword these woords she sayth: thou sword of bitter gall,
Thou hast bereaued mee my Loue, my comfort ioy and all.
With that deare blood (woes me) of his thy cursed blade doth shine
Wherfore thinke not thou canst be free, to shed the same of mine,
In life no meane, though wee it sought, vs to assemble could,
Death shall, who hath already his, & mine shall straight vnfolde.
And you O Gods, this last request, for ruthe yet graunt it mee,
That as one death wee should receiue, one Tombe our graue may bee,
With yt agayn she oft him kist, & then shee speaketh thus:
O Louer mine, beholde thy loue (alas) my Pyramus.
Yet ere I dye beholde mee once, that comfort not denye,
To her with thee that liu'd and lou'd, and eke with thee will dye.
The Gentilman with this, and as the lastest throwes of death,
Did pearce full fast at that same stroke, to end both life and breath
The voice hee knows, & euen therwith, castes vp his heauy eyes,
And sees his loue, hee striues to speake, but death at hand denyes.
Yet loue whose might, not thē was quēcht in spite of death gaue strēgth
And causde frō bottō of his hart, these words to pas at lēgth
(Alas my loue) and liue ye yet, did not your life define,
By Lyones rage the foe therof, and caus'd that this of mine
Is spent and past, or as I thinke, it is your soule so deare,
That seekes to ioy and honor both, my last aduenture heare.
Euen with that woord, a profound sighe, from bottom of his hart,
Out cast his corps and spirit of life, in sunder did depart:
Then Thisbie efte, with shrike so shrill as dynned in the skye,
Swaps down in swoone, shee eft reuiues, & hents ye sword hereby.
Wherwith beneath her pap (alas) into her brest shee strake,
Saying thus will I die for him, that thus dyed for my sake:
The purple Skarlet streames downe ran, & shee her close doth lay
Unto her loue him kissing still, as life did pyne away.
Lo thus they lou'd and died, and dead, one tombe thē graued there,
Yet ere I dye beholde mee once, that comfort not denye,
To her with thee that liu'd and lou'd, and eke with thee will dye.
The Gentilman with this, and as the lastest throwes of death,
Did pearce full fast at that same stroke, to end both life and breath
The voice hee knows, & euen therwith, castes vp his heauy eyes,
And sees his loue, hee striues to speake, but death at hand denyes.
Yet loue whose might, not thē was quēcht in spite of death gaue strēgth
And causde frō bottō of his hart, these words to pas at lēgth
(Alas my loue) and liue ye yet, did not your life define,
By Lyones rage the foe therof, and caus'd that this of mine
Is spent and past, or as I thinke, it is your soule so deare,
That seekes to ioy and honor both, my last aduenture heare.
Euen with that woord, a profound sighe, from bottom of his hart,
Out cast his corps and spirit of life, in sunder did depart:
Then Thisbie efte, with shrike so shrill as dynned in the skye,
Swaps down in swoone, shee eft reuiues, & hents ye sword hereby.
Saying thus will I die for him, that thus dyed for my sake:
The purple Skarlet streames downe ran, & shee her close doth lay
Unto her loue him kissing still, as life did pyne away.
And Mulberies in signe of woe, from white to blacke turnde were.
FINIS.
| A gorgious Gallery, of gallant Inuentions | |