Lavra. The Toyes of a Traueller Or The Feast of Fancie. Diuided into three Parts. By R. T. [i.e. Robert Tofte] |
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 | Lavra. The Toyes of a Traueller |  |
Poca fauilla gran fiamma seconda.
To the no lesse vertuous, than faire, the honourable Ladie Lucie, sister to the thrice renowmed and noble Lord, Henry Earle of Northumberland, &c.
Alla bellissima sua Signora
E. C.
Through thee (not of thee) Ladie faire I writeThrough power of Beautie, not of Vertues thine:
With zealous will, though slender be my might,
I weakling seeke, an Eagles nest to clime.
Then guide my feete, and if to slip I chaunce,
Vphold mee by the favour of thy glaunce.
Accept in gree these Verses rudely pend,
(A signe of dutie, which to thee I owe)
And deigne with sweet regard them to defend,
Which as condemned els are like to goe.
In thee it rests the stampe on them to set,
If currant, Passe: supprest, if Counterfet.
And though the note (thy praises onely fit)
Of sweetest bird, the dulcet Nightingale:
Disdaine not little Roben Red bresT yet,
VVhat he doth want in learning or in skill
He doth supply with zeale of his goodwill.
For onely thee they were deuised alone,
And vnto thee they dedicated are.
Who knowes? Perhaps this kindnes by thee showne,
Shall make this glimpse shine like a glittering starre:
Such is thy vertue in the VVorld his sight,
Thy Crow though blacke, may goe for Swan most white.
Then doubt mee not, though parted wee remaine,
In England thou, and I in Italy:
As I did part I will returne againe,
Loyall to thee or els with shame Ile dye.
True Louers when they trauaile Countreyes strange,
The aire, and not their constant mindes doo change.
Cœlum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt
Affettionatissimo seruid. della diuina Bellezza sua. R. T.
LAVRA. The Toyes of a Traueller.
OR, The Feast of Fancie.
I. The first Part.
I
Fortune (cros frend to euer-cōquring Loue)Our bodies (Ladie) hath deuided farre,
But yet our cōstant minds she cannot moue,
Which ouer strong for her deuises are:
Woe's me, in England thou dost bide, & I
(Scarse shadow of my selfe) in Italy.
But let her doo her worst, and what is frail
And mortall seeke to seperate and vndoo,
Yet what immortall is, she neuer shall:
A string too high for her to reach vntoo.
In spite of enuious seeds (by Malice sowne)
My hart shall ay be thine, and mine thine owne.
Padoa.
II
Though I doo part, my Hart yet dooth not part;My poore afflicted bodie parts in twaine,
And doth in peeces two deuide my Hart:
One peece my fainting spirit doth sustaine,
The other part I leaue with thee behinde,
(The better part, and of my hart most deere)
Then to that part so parted, be thou kinde,
And to the same impart thy louing cheere:
That I (returning) may againe vnite
This parted Hart, and finde for griefe, delight.
London.
III
Like to the blacksome night I may compareMy Mistres gowne, when darknes playes his prise:
But her sweet face, like to the Sunne most faire,
VVhen he in glory ginneth to arise.
Yet this no whit the other doth disgrace,
But rather dubleth Bewtie in the place.
Contraries like to these set opposite,
So daintie and so pleasing in their show
To lookers on, doo breed no small delight,
And pleasure great thereby to them doth grow.
Oh wonder strange, oh sollace sweete to see,
In one selfe subiect Night and Day to bee.
IIII
In the Aegean dangerous sea of Loue,In midst of faithlesse waues and wicked winde,
VVhere (to my cost) most bitter brunts I proue,
A new Arion (there) my selfe I finde.
And though (as he) I play on Harpe, and sing,
Yet cannot cunning mine so high aspire,
As for to make the skipping fish mee bring
Vnto that wished shore I so desire:
Onely my Laura (peerlesse for to see)
May in this troubled floud my Dolphin bee.
V
Great was the strife betweene the Sunne on hieAnd my faire Sunne, when first she gan to peere,
VVho should exceed in brightest Maiestie,
And show in sight of spacious world most cleere:
The Sunne did shine, but she did lighten bright,
And so his burning beames extinguisht quite.
Nay more, my Sunne on sudden to the Sunne
Lent light, and yet no light at all did want:
Where els the other had been quite vndone
For lacke of brightnes, which with him was scant:
The beautie then the Sunne doth vse to show
My Sunne doth giue, and from her it doth grow.
VI
Turnd to a stone was he that did bewray(Vnwitting) to the craftie I heife himselfe
The theft; not thinking he had stoln the pray,
In hope to gaine a little paltrie pelfe:
So I, who vnawares to cruell Thee
(The robber of my hart) confest the theft,
A senselesse Stone like Battus am to see:
Onely in this, vnlike that shape bereft:
That where to worthlesse Stone he turned was,
I for a Touchstone true of Loue doo passe,
VII
Downe from the necke vnto that daintie Brest,(Which Nature made a myrrour of delight)
And where a world of beauties sweet doo rest,
Doth hang a costly Chaine of Pearle most bright;
And of proportion are so iust and round,
That such in India rich cannot be found.
Besides, their orient brightnes is alike;
So that mine eyes are dazled with the same,
And not much vsde to see so faire a sight,
(A sight which doth the Sunne in glorie staine)
Can well discerne though them they both doo see,
If Brest bee Pearle, or Pearle in Bosome bee.
VIII
To giue that life which had not breath before,Prometheus (from aboue) stole heauenly fire;
For which his boldnes he was plagued sore,
A iust reward for such an high aspire.
So whilst I steale from thee (my Heauen aboue)
The heate which doth reuiue my dying sprite:
For rashnes mine eternall griefe I proue.
Yet though our fault's all one, the plague's not like:
He feeles of Vulture one (alone) the smart;
But I haue thousands which still gnaw my hart.
IX
Loue (being blinde) hath wrought me damage sore,Thou (blinde in this my louing) euill wast,
Nor would I see the snare (being blinde farre more)
Wherein my selfe I did entangle fast:
Yet hath this blindnes harme done vnto none,
But vnto Beauties Buzzard, me alone.
When blinded Boy did catch my harmlesse Hart,
Thou didst not see the net so intricate
Which bound mee (being blinde, blinde as thou art)
To be a thrall, in this most wretched state:
So that (alone to worke my misery)
Loue blinde is, blinde wert Thou, and blinder I.
X
If (Laura) thou doost burne gainst me in hate,Then me such busses sweete why doost thou giue?
VVhy checkst thou not the Cheeks which giue the mate,
(The vitall cause whereby I breathe and liue)?
Perhaps it is, because through too much ioy
(As in sweete swound) I might away depart:
If so thou doo, and thinke me so to noy;
Kisse hardly, and with kissing breed my smart.
Content am I to loose this life of mine,
VVhilst I doo kisse that louely lip of thine.
XI
Vpon triumphant Chariot, passing rare,In which my Sunne doth sit like Maiestie,
And makes the day shew vnto vs more faire,
Whose cheerfulnes delights each mortall eye:
I rash, like to another Phaeton,
With hare-braine hast too hastie lept thereon.
But for my boldnes deerly did I pay,
And had like plague (as he) for being ore-braue.
Yet though in equall fortune both did stay,
(For life he lost, and death she to me gaue)
The punisher of both was not the same:
For he by Ioue, and I by Loue was slaine.
XII
The Beautie that in Paradice doth grow,Liuely appeares in my sweet Goddesse face,
From whence (as from a christall Riuer) flow
Fauour deuine, and comelines of grace.
But in her daintie (yet too cruell) Brest
More crueltie and hardnes doth abound,
Than doth in painfull Purgatorie rest:
So that (at once) she's faire and cruell found,
When in her face and breast, (ah griefe to tell)
Bright Heauen she showes, and craftie hides dark hell.
XIII
Whilst angrie Iuno from the scowling SkiesThicke swinging showers, did downward send amaine,
My Ladie mounting vp in stately wise,
From heauen more fast did fierie lightning raine:
So that the people (passing) had lesse harme
By water wet, than by the fire ore-warme.
The water onely wet their outward skin,
A matter small, in which was danger none;
But this her fire did burne their harts within,
And forst them as they went to sigh and grone:
So that their greife was greater (sauns all doubt)
To haue within fier, than water without.
XIIII
The swift Menander turning, windes so fast,And with his streame in circle wise so runs;
That wanton-like (from whence he springs) at last
Backe to his fountaine head againe he comes.
In me a riuer huge of teares from hart
To watrie eyes ascend, from whence they flow,
And running downe doo from mine eyes depart,
Descending to my hart againe below:
So that through vertue of most mightie Loue,
In hart a new Menander I doo proue.
XV
Thou stranger who with wandring steps dost wend,Thy gazing eyes turne quickly vnto mee:
And to my speech with listning eare attend,
In whom foure Elements vnited bee.
Marke well, and as a wonder tell the same
Of Cupids force, poore Louers Tamburlane.
First this my body's earth, and earth most cold,
The fire within my hart in couert lyes,
The aire's my sighes, mine eyes doo waters hold:
Thus for my Saint he doth me marterize.
Earth is my bodie, strange seemes not this same?
The aire my sighes, eyes water, hart the flame.
XVI
If louely Lasse for Fairing thine of meeGold in this Faire thou meanest for to haue:
Then giue me of thy Haires which golden bee,
Giue vnto mee, since thou of mee doost craue.
Nor by this bargaine shalt thou losse sustaine,
Or ought hereby shalt hindred be (sweet VVench)
Since I (to courteous thee) doo giue againe:
(As thankfull) gold, for gold in recompence.
Thy treasure, so shall mine be, mine as thine,
Nor shall th' exchange be worse than gold most fine.
XVII
Rockt in a cradle (like as Infants bee)VVhen I was yong, a little wanton childe,
Two daintie dugs did nourish life in mee,
VVhilst oft on them with teate in mouth I smilde:
Ah happie I, thrice happie might I say,
VVhilst in that harmlesse state I then did stay.
But now that I am come to mans estate,
Such dugs as nurst me in delight and ioy
Doo seeke my death, by poysonous sugred bait,
VVhose sight without possession breeds me noy.
So vvhat in childhood caused me to liue,
Novv in my youth doth death vnto me giue.
XVIII
If Sea no other thing doth shew to beeThan most vnstable vvaters moouing oft,
With pardon (Ladie) you this seeme to mee,
So most vnstable is your changing thought.
I likevvise hold a riuer that orevvhelmes
With vvatrie salt vvithin these eyes of mine:
Then let vs make a mixture mongst our selues
Of this vnstedfastnes and vvarrie brine.
Lets fashion both of vs a nouell Sea,
So heauen the hauen, and loue the bay shalbee.
XIX
Ladie, the Sunne was in AquariusVVhen thou wert borne, which is the reason why
The water of my plaints delight thee thus,
VVithout once viewing me with piteous eye:
But when as I was borne, the Signe I gesse
In Cancer was, a show of my distresse.
This is the cause vvithin my boyling brest
Doth burne a hot and vnextinguisht fire:
But contrarie these Signes in vs doo rest,
Nor doo they vvell accord to my desire;
Farre better had it been, Aquarius Signe
Had hapt to mee, and Cancer had been thine.
XX
What time with brow the Loueliest gins to scowle,Shewing disdaine and furie in her face;
Mee thinkes I see the clowdes wex darke and fowle,
And gloomie night begins to run his race.
But then againe, when she to show begins
Her smiling chere adornd with fauour rare,
Straight waies the Sunne in chariot bright forth springs,
Clere are the skies, the gladsome day most faire:
Thus in one face I see against my will,
The rising of the Sunne and falling still.
XXI
Ranckle the wound did in my head apaceWhen fairest Shee to play the surgeon came,
And whilst her snow white hand did me the grace
To lay the plaister on which heald the same:
A wonder strange, no sooner did she tuch
The hurt, but it appeard to be none such.
Yet woe is me, no sooner by that hand
Was heald in head my outward festring wound,
But that in sted of that as countermand,
One mortall seat at inward hart I sound.
Thus (Loue) thou seest is changed my estate,
She checkes with death, that sore gaue life for mate.
Venice.
XXII
If in the midst of kindled burning fireThat worthy Romane burnt his valiant hand,
I like an other Mutius in desire,
Haue scorcht my fist likewise through Loues command
In freshest moysture, where my Ladie svveet
Her lilly hands for coolnes diued oft.
But though desire betvveene vs vvas alike,
Yet vvas the matter diuers vvhich vve sought.
He chose to burne his hand with courage bold
In flaming fire, and I in water cold.
XXIII
The Gentiles vsde (in signe of sacrifice)The blood of men to offer, to appease
The vvarlike Goddesse vvrath in humble vvise,
And through the same her angrie minde did please:
But thou (more wicked Warrier farre than shee)
In reason maist more cruell termed bee.
On Beauties altar (to thee dedicate)
Thousands of Louers (mustering on a row)
Offer their blood and harts: yet mitigate
Thy hardned minde cannot, which flint doth show.
Then is she cruell lesse than thou art now,
Since blood her pleasd, and thee harts cannot bow.
XXIIII
For to behold my Sunne, I from the SunneDid seeke my face to shadow with my hand,
To shield me from the heate that gan to come
In place, where gazing on her I did stand:
But I no sooner from that Sunne was free,
But that in that selfe instant and that time,
I of mine owne Sunne found myselfe to bee
Burnt with the heate (a most vnluckie signe).
So, whilst a shade from sunne did me defend,
A Sunne more hot did hurt me in the end.
XXV
White was the orient pearle, which on a dayThat hand me gaue, which scornes the proud compare
Of purest white, and beares the palme away,
As of all pearly faires the orientst faire:
And whilst she offred vnto mee the same,
I knew not which the pearle was of the twaine.
So white the hand was of my peerlesse Pearle,
As it did dazle with delight mine eyes,
And pearle seemd to me, giuing me the pearle:
Which made me sighing say (in whispring wise)
Ah why once may I not so happie bee
This Pearle to haue, which th' other giues to mee?
XXVI
VVhen you appeare, appeares the breake of day,And shewes to be most faire, and passing bright:
But if you keep your selfe vnseene away,
The day showes not, but keepeth out of sight.
Then if againe you gin your selfe to show,
Behold the Day to shew it selfe afresh
VVith skie most clere: so both of you doo grow
In beautie like, in heate nor are you lesse.
Thus if your beames you ope, or hidden been,
The breake of day appeares, els nere is seene.
XXVII
Iustly of thee (Loue partiall) I complaine,That at one instant, and vvith one selfe stroke,
Thou darted hast into my hart vvith paine
Cold chilly frost, and fierie flaming smoke.
Ay me, vvithin me (both) I secret hold,
And whilst th' one burnes me, th' other makes me cold.
Then Cruell, since thou wilt two contraries
(Against my soule) within my hart shall rest,
Ah yet mak peace twixt them in louing wise,
Or els (sweete Loue) doo promise this at least;
Flame to my frost and water to my fire,
Life to my hart, to comfort my desire.
XXVIII
Diana shineth in the heauens cleere,Because from purest Sunne she takes her light,
And Faire, she showes that of Diana heere
On earth, doth borrow beautie passing bright.
The vertue then that is infusde in her,
She from Diana hath, or els from none;
For other thewes doo all in her concurse,
And vnto her beholding are alone.
Oh wonder strange of Nature to reueale,
She Dian giues, yet doth from Dian steale.
Siena.
XXIX
As burnisht gold, such are my Souereignes heares;A brace of startes deuine, her blackish eyes,
Like to the fairest blacke the Rauen beares,
Or fairer, if you fairer can deuise:
So likewise faire's the beautie of her brests,
Where pleasure lurkes, where ioy still-dallying rests.
This Venus bower, you rightly may compare
To whitest snow that ere from heauen fell,
Or to the mynes of alabaster faire:
(Woe's mee, tis sweete to sleepe in Cupids cell)
Whilst he the hart makes surfet with delight
Through golden haire, black eyes, & brest most white.
XXX
Vnto thy fauour (which when Nature formd,She went beyond her selfe with cunning hand)
I may compare what is in world adornd
With beautie most, and with most grace doth stand:
But euerie mortall whitenes nere so white,
The yuorie white of thy white hand exceeds.
So that my Sowle (which doth faire whitenes like)
Rests on faire whitenes, and on whitenes feeds:
For this is thought and hoped of from thee,
VVhite as thy hands, so white thy faith shal bee.
XXXI
Ladie, thou seemest Fortune vnto meWhen I most wistly marke, how thou dost go
With golden tresses loose, (a ioy to see)
Which gentle winde about thy eares doth blow:
And as thou her resemblest in this sort,
So doest thou in attire and all thy port.
Only thou wantest for thy swift right hand
The rolling wheele, and shadowing vaile to hide
Those eyes, which like controllers do command:
But if thou longst of these to be supplide,
Take me (thy prisoner) for to play this part,
For my Desire's the wheele, the Vaile's my HART.
XXXII
Thou, merry laughst, and pleasantly dost smile,I wofull weepe, and (mestfull) sorrow still,
Lest this thy mirth encreasing, me beguile,
And weaue a webbe for me of greater ill:
Too well perceiue I, this thy deepe disdaine,
By this thy fained lookes, and cloaked glee,
Thou of disaster mine art glad and faine,
And faine my death as Basiliske wouldst see,
Since that of warre and bate this laughter is,
And not of gentle peace or calmy blisse.
XXXIII
Since thou hast changde thy gowne and thine attire,Ah change thy thoughts, not alwayes cruel be:
And with new clothes, put on a new Desire,
That new in euery point I may thee see.
And if thou heretofore vnkinde hast beene,
Be curteous now, and gentle be thou seene.
Thy glory great, thy praise more shalt thou finde,
If, of vnconstant, constant thou be come,
And of a foe, a faithfull friend and kinde,
Then change henceforth thy thoughts, else I vndone:
Giue me that colour which so likes mine eine,
If death, then blacke, if life, then Carnatine.
XXXIIII
Changde is my nature in me, where beforeI like was to a chilly freesing ice:
I now a flame am, burning inward sore,
And such a flame that burneth in such wise,
That if Loue and my Mistresse take no care
For this my hurt, my soule must quickely die,
Yet one doth see (for both not blinded are)
The fier so hote doth burne wherein I frie,
That fierce Perillus boyling Bull of brasse
May vnto this for icie substance passe.
XXXV
Farre better had it been I had been dead,And laid full low in latest home, (my graue)
Than with that drinke my selfe for to haue fed
VVhich Laura mine in Christall glasse me gaue:
The licor pleasd me I must needs confesse,
Yet to my hart twas poyson nerthelesse.
So that I had contrarie quite effect
To my desire, which I so much did wish
Loue was in fault, who Reason doth reiect:
And see my cruell lucke, what hapt in this;
The wine was sweete, yet did his nature turne,
It coold my mouth, but hart within did burne.
XXXVI
Sweet sung thy Bird in Ebon cage shut fast,And did delight thy daintie cares so much,
As thou vouchsafdst to giue him meate at last,
And gently didst his fethers stroke and tuch:
So Ladie, I likewise in th' Ebonie
Of thy bright eyes am prisoner, and doo sing
Thy Beauties praise; and yet not fed am I
By thee, yet liue through thee: a wondrous thing.
Loue to my hart thy Beautie doth supplie
For food, which els (throgh famine starud) would die.
XXXVII
If white's the Moone, thou Laura seemst as white,And white's the gowne which you on bodie weare;
And if her whitely hornes in calmie night
She smoothly glyding showes to vs most cleare:
You in the day time more and brighter farre,
Your Beautie showe like bright Auroraes starre.
Like brightnes both of you abroad doo cast,
Though not effect alike per accidens;
You shine, (he shines, your powers eternall last:
But yet betweene you is great difference,
Her brightnes sneezeth, causing deadly cold,
Yours doth enflame, and liuely fire doth hold.
XXXVIII
Euen as the lampe goeth out that oyle doth want,Or as the Sunne doth fall in th' occident,
So did my hart within me gin to pant,
My vitall spirnes away by little went:
VVhen (taking on me pittie) graciously
My Mistres hem of garment trailing downe
Toucht mee, and mee reuiued suddenly:
Then if such vertue be within her gowne,
Imagin what doth stay her corps within,
VVhich who seeth, through sweetnes needs must sin.
XXXIX
Seated on marble was my Ladie blythe,Holding in hand a christall looking Glasse,
Marking of Louers thousands (who aliue
Thankes onely to her Beautie rare did passe).
To prie in glasse likes her: but afterward
Shee takes the nature of the stone most hard.
For whilst she cherefully doth fixe her eyes
Gazing vpon the brightnes of the one,
Her hart by th' other's made (in strangie wise)
Hard as a rocke, and senselesse as a stone:
So that if Loue this breaketh not in twaine,
It will a flint become, to others paine.
XL
No more a man (as once I was) am ISince this new Circes (moou'd by fierce disdaine)
Hath changd me to a fountaine neuer drie
VVherein my selfe with bitter teares I baine.
Then am I one, who alway eyes doo beare,
And brest of water flowing onely full:
Take heed you Louers all of her, and feare
The sugred baites of this deceitfull Trull.
Least by this Circe new you be deceau'd
As I haue been, and be of shape bereau'd.
The Conclusion of the first Part.
The Macedonian Monarch once did deigne(In cheerfull sort, in kind and louing wise)
To feast in Village with a homely Swaine,
VVho entertaind him (as is countrey guise)
VVith curds and creame, and such like knackes he had:
VVhereof the curteous Prince accepted glad.
So Ladie, boldly I presumed haue
To envite you to a sorie Banquet base:
Nor to disdaine the same of you I craue,
Though cates too course for you, too poore the place.
I cannot (as I would) giue curds and creame,
But milke and whey, my fortune is so meane.
Yet if you shall accept it graciously,
And with your Fauour sweet this Bourd adorne,
The vertue which is in you, presently
The whey to curds, and milke to creame shall turne:
But if your looke you angrie turne away,
The milke shall still be milke, the whay still whay.
Then as the Sunne in glorious wise doth shine
As well on valley low as mountaine hie,
Vouchsafe one cheerefull glimse of fauour thine
On pouer mee, from out that heauenly eye:
Vnworthie I such grace (I doo consesse)
Yet worthie thou to doo so, nerthelesse.
R. T.
II. The scond part
I
If I somewhile looke vp into the skies,I see (faire Lady) that same cheerefull light
Which like to you doth shine, in glorious wise:
And if on th' earth I chance to cast my sight,
The moouelesse Centre firme to me doth show,
The hardnesse which within your hart doth grow.
If seas I view the flowing waues most plaine
Your fickle faith do represent to mee:
So as I still behold you to my paine,
When as the skies, or th' earth, or seas I see:
For in your seemely selfe doth plaine appeare.
Like faith like hardnesse, and like brightnes cleare.
II
Maruel I do not, though thou doest not seeMy griefes, and martires, which I still sustaine,
For thou the Mole of loue doest seeme to me;
But if a Mole, th' art onely to my paine.
How comes it then that seeing thou art blinde,
Thou me consumst, as if thou hadst thy sight?
Why, as thy nature by instinct doth bind
Stayest not below? packe hence, and leaue this light,
Either those eies stil shut, not me to grieue.
Or vnder ground, in darkenes alwayes liue.
III
If whilome (in times past) that Spartane Lasse(The Flower of Greece, Dan Paris costly ioy)
Through her faire feature the onely causer was,
So manie Knights were slaine at Siedge of Troy:
Thou Laura art vnlike vnto her farre,
In this our Age a much more blessed Starre.
For she brought warres, strife, death, and crueltie;
Where thou (alone) bringst peace and pleasure still.
Ah happie thrice that liggs in loue with thee:
And if by chance (vnwares) thou sometime kill,
Thou (with thy smile) the wound canst heale againe,
And giue him life, whom thou before hadst slaine.
Pisa.
IIII
Shoot forth no more those darts from lightning eyes,(Vnkinde) why seekst to stop my fainting breath?
Goe, and inuent some new kinde exercise,
Play the right Tyrant, choyces vse in death:
New weapons seeke wherewith mee to offend;
Whereby I dying, content may rest thy will.
But tell me? wouldst so faine my life should end?
And knowst not, sweet extreames doo sudden kill?
Cruell, kisse me but once, and thou shalt see
Ended my life with that same Kisse to bee.
V
If what is heauie craues the Center base,(The earth below) as nature willes the same,
Heauie the wofull griefes are in this case,
Which inward in my heart I do sustaine.
And if what's light, by kinde aloft doth mount,
Then light's my Loue with thee, of light account.
So that in doubtfull dangerous extreame,
Wretch that I am, my selfe am sore afraide
And doubt of thee, so farre from golden meane,
Nor know I wel out of this depth to wade.
Lest that my life be shortned, or I die,
VVhether it heauy, falles; or light, ascends on hie.
VI
Ladie what time I seeke in mournefull noteTo shew mine agonies and bloudie mone.
My voyce doth faile, and hoarse and harsh my throte,
And this doth come through you, through you alone.
For whilst I thinke by meanes of you in song
To mittigate some part of this my smart,
Insteede thereof you do me double wrong,
And with a glaunce you take away my hart:
So that I finde great hurt by this your theft,
Since where before but voyce, now hart's bereft.
VII
As rockes become exposde gainst waues and windeMore hard; such is thy nature (stubborne Dame)
Opposde gainst waters of my plaints most kind,
And windes of mine hote sighes which inward flame;
That hardnes such to encrease bout heart is found,
As to it, soft might seeme the Diamond.
Hence forward then let no man thinke to mooue
By weeping or lamenting, to his will
This selfe willd saint, which too too well I prooue,
A senselesse stone to be vnto me still:
Since to my griefe, from all good lucke debard
With plaints, and sighes, she doth become more hard.
VIII
Harke louers, harke, a strangie myracle,Of one depriude of heart, yet death doth scape
Mine L. a flower gaue me, which sweete did smell:
And for the same away my life did take:
So that I only breathe through sent of flower,
And without heart, not without life I liue,
Then is not this of mightie Loue his power
A wonder strange, which he for sport doth giue?
When that a flower sustaineth me alone
VVith life, who in my bodie heart haue none.
IX
VVhen I did part from thee the other night,Me thought a fowle blacke Dog with vgly shape
Did follow me, and did me sore affright,
And all the way did greedy on me gape:
Nor I this curre how he at me did howle
Can well as yet forget, with chaps most fowle.
Then thinking of his colour hatefull blacke,
Me thought some ill, my Thought did feare to come,
And said within me, turne againe, turne backe,
If forward thou doest go, thou art vndone.
Then pardon Lady, if I backe againe
Am come this night with you for to remaine.
X
My mourning mistresse garments blacke doth beare,And I in blacke like her attired am:
Yet diuers is the cause why blacke we weare,
She for anothers death doth shew the same:
I for another reason beare this sute,
Onely to shew by this my outward weede
Mine inward griefe, although my tongue be mute,
Of tender heart which deadly sighes doth bleede.
Thrise happy I, if (as in habite we
Are both in one) our mindes both one might be.
XI
If April fresh, doth kindely giue vs flowers,September yeeldes with more increase the frute:
(Sweetest) you haue in bosome (Beauties Bowers)
Both these sweete tides, whence forth they alwayes shute
Both flower and fruite alonely you alone
Can giue me when you please, or else can none.
Oh dainty bosome, bosome rich in prise,
Surmounting mountaines huge of beaten gold:
Whose whitenes braues the whitest snow that lies
On highest hilles, whose height none can behold:
In you my soule doth hope without annoy,
Both spring and haruest, one day to enioy.
Roma.
XII
Drawne (cunning Painter) hast thou with great Aire,The shadow of my louely Laura faire;
Which obiect sweet not smally ioyes my hart,
But little didst thou thinke, nor wast thou ware,
That where thou thoughtst my fancie for to please,
Effect contrary sortes to my Desire,
So that it breedes in bodie mine, vnease
And (senslesse) burnes my hart with feeling fire:
Oh strange successe, what made was for Content,
Doth most displease, and (liuelesse) doth torment.
XIII
When first the cruell Faire deignd graciouslyTo looke on mee with kinde and curteous view,
And cast on mee a louely glauncing eye,
She knew not that I was her seruant trew:
But she no sooner ware was of the same,
But that she turnd her backe with great disdaine.
So as the wound I (then) close bare in brest,
I (now) through griefe, show outward in my face:
But if that she by whom I wounded rest,
Liues in compassion cold toward me sanz grace:
Hard harted is she, cruell was she to her frend,
And wicked shalbe world withouten end.
XIIII
VVhen first the Sunne did shine vpon her eyes,VVho fairest mongst her beauteous Sex doth show,
The Heauens her daintie corps (in curteous wise)
Couerd with chilly cold, and whitest snow.
She (through the nature of that Humor cold)
Both coldest Ice (at once) and purest VVhite
Drawes to her selfe: then none for strange should hold
Though to mee faire and cruell is her sight,
Since that the Heauens (for fauours) did impart
A snow-white corps to her, and frozen hart.
XV
The duskie clowde in skie (with shadow darke)Doth couer oft the Sunnes most cleerest light,
So as his beames we cannot see nor marke.
And he himselfe doth play at least in sight:
Ah were I such a clowd on earth to couer
My sweetest Sunne, as doth that clowd the other.
But if that clowd doo vanish soone away,
And dooth as momentarie passe and vade;
Eternall would I bee, to hide her ay,
And of a harder mixture would be made.
Oh happie I, oh fortunate Eclips,
With kissing so to darken those faire lips.
XVI
From milke of Iuno (as the Poets faine)The Lilly had his whitenes, passing white,
And from Adonis blood (that louely Swaine)
The Rose his colour red, which doth delight.
Thou (pretie Soule) hast both the colours rare
Of these sweet flowers, which others all exceed;
Thy Brest's a bed of beauteous Lillies faire,
Thy daintie cheekes pure damask Roses breed,
O frutefull Garden flowring, where appeare
The Rose and Lilly, at all times of yeare.
XVII
Of constant Loue I am the wasted fire,The furious winde's my Ladies angrie eye,
Who whilst she kindles both through wrathfull ire,
The flame encreaseth, mounting to the skye.
In midst is Loue, halfe dead of greeuous paine,
And (doubtfull) wyndes about like sparkling flame.
He feares the heate, and trembles, being turnd
Vnto this blast, which still more sharpe doth rise;
Nor is his feare in vaine, when so he is burnd:
For one of these must hap in sudden wise,
Either the fire must spoyle him as his pray,
Or whirling winde els blow him quite away.
XVIII
My Laura wonders that in visage paleI beare of death it selfe the liuely show,
But if she muse at this, her musing's stale,
For this sad colour had I long agoe.
The fire (close burning in my veynes) doth make
That outward ashes in my face you view:
But if that she would on me pittie take
Who is the cause of this my palish view,
This kindled heate shall die, which now doth burne,
And my first colour shall againe returne.
XIX
Whilst foming Steed I spurre vnto the quicke,To make him gallop to my Loue amaine,
Loue doth my thoughts (through fancy) forward prick,
The end of wished iourney mine to gaine:
But light's his hurt, tis but a little smart;
Where mine is mortall, sounding to the hart.
Run then (my Gelding swift) like Pegasus,
Flie hence with wings, for wings hath my desire;
Both of vs (forst amaine) are forward thus,
And kindled in vs is a burning fire:
Thou through two spurres in flanke prouokd art sore,
But thousands inwardly my hart doo gore.
XX
Rich is the Diamond, a iemme of prise,Yet such the nature strange is of the same,
That who the powder thereof drinkes, straight dies,
And as (if poyson twere) doth take his bane:
So thou another precious iewell art,
In name and nature not vnmuch alike,
Since death thou giu'st vnto the louing hart;
If but a kisse one suckes from thee most sweete,
Whilst he doth swallow downe his sugred baite,
The ioy's so great, it kills him through concaite.
XXI
The Greclans vsde to offer vp their haireVnto their Riuers, whom they did esteeme
As mightie Gods, and them great honor bare,
As if no vertue small in them had been:
Doo thou the like (sweet Laura) vnto mee,
Who for my loue deserue a greater fee.
Thy golden tresses on me doo bestow,
Who hold whole Riuers flowing in mine eyes:
Yet would not I thou off shouldst cut them tho.
Doost muse, and aske how this thou maist deuise?
Ile tell thee: Giue thy selfe to mee for mine,
So shalt thou giue vncut thy tresses fine.
XXII
One louely glaunce which from the eyes did passeOf Ladie mine, hath changd my gentle hart
From hardest Diamond to brittle glasse:
And now againe (vnto my bitter smart
Through dreadfull frowne) she turnes it suddenly
As twas before, from glasse to Diamond.
So if she will she may, (and presently
As likes her) change me, who to her am bound:
If cruell shee, my hart is hard to breake:
If pittifull, tis gentle, brittle, weake.
XXIII
Two windes, one calme, another fierce to see,Th' one of the Spring, of Winter th' other right
I plainly (Ladie) doo discerne in thee:
The first (which makes me ioy) breathes from thy sight
Such daintie flowers in diuers coloured show,
As makes to blush Dame Iris raynie Bow.
The second (which makes mee to pine away)
Blowes from thine inward brest a deadly blast,
Where doth eternall hardnes alwaies stay,
Which I don see eternall ay to last:
So as calme Zephyrus in face thou art,
But rough as boystrous Boreas in thine hart.
XXIIII
No sooner doo I earnest fix mine eyesOn my faire Sunne, but that I her perceaue
To vanish like a clowd in darkest wise,
As if (eclypst) her light it did bereaue:
I know not if shee's troubled thus, because
She doth disdaine I should behold her so;
Or if for feare this shadow to her drawes,
Least mee her beames should hurt, which glistring show.
Say then sweet Loue (for thou knowst best) if still
I shall behold her, or no more, thou will.
XXV
Oh that I were fly Proteus, for to takeOn mee that forme, which most I like or wish;
Then would I change my selfe into the shape
Of that thy little whelpe, thy ioy and blisse,
Into that little worme thou so doost like,
And dallying plaist with him both day and night.
Those sauerie smackes, those busses, sweet which bee,
VVhich thou to him doost giue, should all be mine;
And I would make my hart to leap for glee,
VVhilst I did licke that bosome faire of thine:
But since I to despaire of this am brought,
My wish shall Proteus be, thy Dog my thought.
XXVI
Say (gentle frend) tell me in curtesieBefore what was I? and what am I now?
A senselesse shadow? or a bodie, I?
Neither of both? marke, and Ile tell thee how,
No bodie now, for that by proud disdaine
Of scornfull Shee, disliu'd was: shadow none,
For that did vnder-ground goe with the same,
Vnwilling it should wander all alone,
VVhat am I then? Euen one that doth not know
VVhat now he is, or what he was can show.
XXVII
The blazing Starre foretells the haplesse fallAnd sudden death of others, soone to come:
To me a Face (brighter than Comets all)
Doth with her lookes my fortune hard forerunne:
And with her shooting darts from glauncing eye,
Presageth that ere long I needs must dye.
The blazing Starre death onely prophecies,
This doth foreshew to mee a harder fate,
And dares me to mine end in warlike wise,
Not how this Challenge know I to escape.
Ah cruell Starre, of death not onely signe,
But murtherer th' art of this poore life of mine.
XXVIII
The Crow makes warre with the Cameleon,And being hurt to th' Laurell straight doth flie,
And through the frute he findeth thereupon
Is heald of hurt, findes food, and liues thereby.
Loue the Cameleon is, the Crow am I,
And battell wage with him vnto the death:
He wounds me deadly, whereupon I hie
To thee (my Laurall) to restore my breath.
Thou me reuiu'st, such vertue's in thee rife,
As thou at once doost giue me food and life.
XXIX
Amongst the Parthians is a kinde of groundOf nature such, as though it farre doth stand
From fire,) yet fire to take it straight is found,
And flying thether, burnes it out of hand:
This pray so sure of Loue, am I faire Dame,
And you to mee (which burneth mee) the flame.
So that if I to you farre off doo show,
You kindle straight in mee a quenchlesse fire:
And yet although within it burne me so,
Sweete is the heate whose fuell is Desire:
For rather I in fire neere you would bee,
Than freed from flame you farther off to see.
XXX
Loue, ope my hart, hot fire thou forth shalt take:Open my Lauras, in it thou shalt finde
Cold frost: then of these two contraries make
But one, and that same one frame thou more kinde.
Of both our harts, make but one louing hart,
And giue it vnto which thou please of twaine:
Giue it to her, to her doo it impart,
Or vnto mee: it skills not much the same.
Ile doubt no more, when but one hart we haue
Betweene vs both: for this is all I craue.
XXXI
Vnto an Image may I right compareMy Mistres, since so cruell shee's to mee;
VVhich standeth for a signe or shadow faire,
To which the simple ignorant bow with knee:
And though with eyes, mouth, eares, and feet it show,
Yet dooth it neither see, talke, heare or goe.
So playes my Choyce, when I appeare in sight,
Nor see, nor speake, nor heare, nor stay she will,
So as an Idoll she resembleth right,
Blinde, mute, deafe, mouelesse, senselesse standing still:
Then am not I worse than a liuelesse Blocke,
To worship such a painted coloured Stocke.
Fiorenza.
XXXII
Both iemmes and pearle their proper value haue,But yet vnlike, for not alike's their prise;
Some sought for are, and each one doth them craue,
Others (more base) doo passe in worthlesse wise.
A Iuell rich and princelike Iemme is she
Whom I esteeme, and such account of make,
Yet in her selfe no price hath for to see,
For it is holden at so high a rate:
As all the gold nor siluer which doth ly
In th' earth or sea, the same (at worth) can by.
XXXIII
If loue (wherein I burne) were but a fire,I quencht it had with water of my teares;
If water, these my plaints, I this Desire
Had dryde through inward heate, my hart that taints:
But Loue that in my griefes doth take delight,
Both fire and water turnes to worke mee spite.
Flie then this Loue, since such is his great power,
As waues to fire, and fire to waues he turnes,
And with an absent Beautie euerie hower,
My fainting hart with Fancies fuell burnes,
And gainst all sense makes mee of CARe and IL,
More than of good and ComfoRT to haue will.
XXXIIII
Riuers vnto the Sea doo tribute pay:A most vnconstant moouing Sea art thou,
And I within mine eyes (bedeawed ay)
A Riuer hold of bitter teares as now.
Receiue then from these moystned cheekes of mine
Into thy lap the water I foorth powre,
Of dutie mine and of thy Debt a signe,
And mixt together with my sweet thy sowre:
So shall the water to the water bee
More precious, and the Sea more rich to th' Sea.
XXXV
Such is the vertue of the Sunnie heate,As seazing on the cockle shell, which lies
On seaish shore, whereon his beames doo beate
It makes it brightly shine, in orient wise:
So that through secret power of radiant Sunne,
Of worthlesse shell, a Pearle it doth become.
So Ladie, you through force of Beauties power,
If you shall deigne to glaunce on me your eye,
And raine with grace on me a smiling shower,
A Iewell rich you make me by and by:
And if no Pearle, at least a precious Stone;
This (onely) can you doo, or els can none.
XXXVI
The blood of faire Adonis, Venus changdInto a Flower; who, whilst he did pursue
(In Forrest thicke, whereas he hunting rangd)
The sauage Boare to kill, the Boare him slue:
Doo thou the like, sweet Loue doo thou the same,
Whilst now my life doth languish through thy power,
And whilst my wound makes me for to remaine
Withouten blood, transforme to a flower:
That where I liuing cannot, dead I may
A loued Flower in Lauras bosome stay.
XXXVII
An Ocean sea of water calme am I,Wherein kinde Loue the forme of fish doth take,
Leaping alongst the shore most wantonly:
Then Ladie, of a Fisher d'on the shape;
Ah, what sweete fishing shall you haue to like,
If Loue you chance to catch, while he doth bite?
Come then, and nak't into this water hie,
He cannot scape, but (here) perforce must bide,
(Lesse to my hart to saue himselfe he flie)
Then quickly strip thy selfe, lay feare aside:
For of this daintie pray, which thou shalt take,
Both Sea, Fish, and thy Selfe, thou glad shalt make.
XXXVIII
Rich Damaske Roses in faire cheekes doo bideOf my sweet Girle, like Aprill in his prime:
But her hard Hart cold chilly snow doth hide,
Of bitter Iammer the perfect signe.
Her Haire of gold, showes yealow like the Corne
In Iuly, when the Sunne doth scortch the ground;
And her faire Brest ripe frute, which doth adorne
September rich: so as in her is found
Both Haruest, Summer, Winter, Spring to bee;
Which you in Brest, Haire, Hart, and Face may see.
XXXIX
Th' immortall Parcæ (fatall Sisters three)Of mortall men doo sing the shunlesse fate,
What once was, what is now, and what shalbee,
Their life, their death, their fortune, and their state:
Our Song let bee like theirs, Three they were;
And so our number is, Three are we here.
Sing Laura then, sing Loue, and sing will I
Of dreery fortune mine, sing let vs all,
Let's sing in dolefull tune most mournfully,
How tis, how twas, and haplesse still shall fall,
The Present, Passed, and (which none can mend)
What shalbe world to come withouten end.
XL
The Heauens their restlesse Sphere doo alwayes moue,In thee doth moue the faith which thou didst plight:
And I Ixion-like still in my loue,
Doo roule, and yet I roule my wheele aright:
So that twixt vs continuall motions wend.
But which is worse (vnconstant Wench) I see
The Heauens will haue their motions without end,
Which (neuer ceasing) roule continually:
And thou like them to roule doost meane thy fill,
And since tis so, Ile roule too, gainst my will.
The Conclusion of the second Part.
Thus is the second Course now serued in,A Course too course for such a daintie Dame;
Yet (Ladie) though the cheere be bad and thin,
Because it comes of Zeale, accept the same:
And though not worthy of your grace it bee,
Yet make it gracious through your curtesie.
Great sumptuous Feasts the stomacke doth dislike,
Which oft in bodie dangerous surfets breed:
Where dishes few reuiue our sense and spright,
And Nature's pleasd on little for to feed.
This as a sawce (your appetite to moue)
Accept, where meate's the HaRT, where Cooke is Loue.
Nor thinke the worse, though I haue spun a shred
So fine (I meane your praise) I cannot mend,
Since tis a worke to ground the wisest Hed,
And marre I should this loome, the Cloth not mend:
So Venus matchlesse shape Apelles drew,
But how to finish it he neuer knew.
Farre more's my minde, than is my feeble might,
My pensill for thy picture is too weake:
The Sunne is onely for the Eagles sight,
My strength's too small, this hardned yce to breake.
Not painted scarce I thee haue shadowed heere:
This taske's for such as haue in skill no peere.
R. T.
III. The third Part.
I
Who ioyes in Loue? the Hart alone, to see.Who languisheth in Loue? the Hart alone.
Then ist a thing impossible for mee
To ioy or languish, since I Hart haue none.
Withouten Hart? then tel me, what am I?
Euen bones and flesh vnited cunningly.
The Soule, where ist? Loue that hath tane away,
My Bodie onely resteth in his place.
Depriu'd of Soule and Hart, how liue? I say,
I liue (maintaind by Loue) in this strange case.
O wonder strange, the Bodie liue to see,
The Hart and Soule in other place to bee.
Napoli.
II
That Crimson Gowne (with drops of blood ywrought)Which Laura weares, a token is most true;
How that of blood desirous is her Thought,
And that tis so, I best can tell to you.
My wronged Hart too well doth finde the same,
Who thousand times, not once hath wronged been
By her; and now, to aggrauate my paine,
(More cruell in desire for to be seene
By outward habit) couets shee to show,
What (inward) in her minde she hides below.
III
The flaming Torch (a shadow of the light)Put out by hastie hand, doth colour change,
And blacke becomes, which seemd before most bright:
Nor so to show is anie meruaile strange:
So was Ilong a liuely fire of loue,
The heate whereof my Bodie oft did proue,
But I, at last (by one who moand my woe)
Extinguisht was, by Pitifull Disdaine:
Then if my colour blacke in face doo show,
You need not much to wonder at the same,
Since tis a Signe (by part to know the whole)
That Loue made mee a Fire, Disdaine a Cole.
IIII
Pardned of euerie wicked fact was heeTo Hebes Temple that with praiers came,
And of such grace (in signe) his Bonds (as free)
He left hung vp on high within the same.
I (Ladie) erred haue, and humbly come
To thee, who art the Temple faire of loue,
Offring to thee my praiers all and some,
To free me from my faults thy hart let moue:
In token of which Gift, with thee Ile leaue
My ielous thoughts, wherewith I did thee grieue.
V
If thou art cold as is the winters snow,I as the Summer hot am, most extreame:
Then lets vnite thy hart which cold is so
To mine so warme, and make of both a Meane:
So th' one a helpe to th' other still shall bee:
And linckt in Concord, as two Doues shall gree.
To forme this Frame, Loue shall the work-man play,
Then lets with Iuly Ianuary mix
Lets make betweene vs an eternall May,
An euerlasting truce vs twaine betwix:
Thy Winter with my Summer let vs ioyne:
My fire so warme, with frost so cold of thine.
VI
The cruell Nero vsde on golden hookeThe harmlesse fish to catch with sugred baite:
So, curteous Loue, fishing me quickly tooke,
Whilst he with daintie pray for me did waite:
Yet farre more fortunate am I in this,
For whereas Neroes hookes most sharpe did kill,
The other hookes reuiue the taken fish,
Whilst they doo hold him gently by the gylls.
But hooks they are none, for hooks they are too faire,
Two golden tresses be they of fine haire.
VII
When She was borne, she came with smiling eyeLaughing into the world, a signe of glee;
When I was borne (to her quite contrarie)
Wayling I came into the world to see.
Then marke this wonder strange: what Nature gaue
From first to th' last this fashion kept we haue.
She in my sad laments doth take great ioy,
I through her laughing die, and languish must,
Vnlesse that Loue (to saue me from this noy)
Doo vnto mee (vnworthy) shew so iust
As for to change her laughter into paine,
And my complaints into her ioy againe.
VIII
In Loue his Kingdome great, two Fooles there bee;My Ladie's one, my selfe the other am:
The fond behauiour of both which to see,
Who so but nicely markes, will say the same:
Foolish our thoughts are, foolish our desire,
Foolish our harts in Fancies flame to frie,
Foolish to burne in Loues hot scortching fire.
But what? Fooles are we none, my tung dooth lie:
For who most foolish is and fond in loue,
More wiser farre than others, oft doth proue.
IX
No sooner Laura mine appeares to mee,But that a daintie Dye, a blushing Red,
In both our faces sheweth for to bee:
But who (alas) doth mine so ouer-spred?
Ore-feruent loue doth draw this shadow pure,
Like cunningst Painter long for to endure.
VVho painteth hers? Disdaine with pencill hard,
VVhich turneth all my sweetnes into sower:
So that all my designes are quickly mard,
Except Loue bind loue (by his awfull power)
In Faiths firme bands: too hie th' exchange will grow,
VVhen loue for hate, and not for like shall goe.
X
Phœbus had once a Bird, (his chiefe delight)VVhich (onely cause he had an euill tung)
He made him blacke, who was before most white:
So if all those who louers true haue stung
VVith spitefull speach, and haue their loues betraid,
Or to their ladies false bee and vntrue,
(Setting at nought the promise they haue made)
Loue would but change into this cole-blacke hieu:
Thousands abroad like sea-cole Crowes should show,
VVho (now vnknowen) for snowie Swannes doo goe.
XI
In siluer streame, on shallow fountaines shelfe,The liuely image saw he in the same,
Who was in loue with shadow of himselfe,
Through pride, forgetfull how his likenes came:
Such one my selfe (by chance) I see to bee,
When as in Riuer! my selfe did see.
Yet I, my selfe in sted of louing hate,
And such strange hatred is this, and so strong,
That while he (louing) dyde by iustest Fate
Himselfe by seeing, (whilst he himselfe did wrong):
I die will vnto him contrarie cleene,
Cause I (hating my self) my self too much haue seene.
XII
Ioy of my soule, my blindfold eyes cleere light,Cordiall of hart, right Methridate of loue,
Faire orient Pearle, bright shining Margarite,
Pure Quintessence of heauens delight aboue,
VVhen shall I taste what fauour graunts me tuch,
And ease the rage of mine so sharpe desire?
VVhen shall I free enioy what i so much
Doo couet, (but I doubt in vaine) to aspire?
Ah doo not still my Soule thus Tantalize,
But once (through grace) the same in paradize.
XIII
Painter, in liuely colours draw Disdaine,Doost aske how that may right'y shadowed bee?
Ile tell thee, if thou (fine) wilt doo the same
My Ladie paint, and thou Disdaine shalt see.
Fond man, dost not beleeue? or thinkst I iest?
If doubtfull thou remaine, then heare the rest.
Marke her but well, and thou shalt in her face
See right Disdaine, which comming from her eyes,
Makes her to looke with most disdainfull grace:
Then if thou seest it in so plaine a guise,
Straight shadow her: for this one Counterfaite
Of her and of Disdaine shall show the shape.
XIIII
VVith gold and rubies glistereth her small hand:But if you match them with her lips or haire,
They seeme withouten brightnes to stand,
The other haue such liuely colours faire.
O worthie Beautie, peerlesse A PER SE,
To whom all other Beauties are most vile,
O fairnes such, as fairer none can bee,
Thou Grace it selfe of graciousnes doost spoyle.
VVith Rubies, thou right Rubies doost disgrace,
VVith Gold bright Gold thou stainest in his place.
XV
A gentle tame Deere am I, cald a HART,The cruell Huntresse fierce my Mistres is:
VVith crosse-bow bent she comes to me in Parke,
Palde in with pleasant thoughts of wanton wish:
Shee shootes and hits mee, takes me for her pray;
And hauing shot, hit, taken, flies her way.
Backe she retires from mee with pleasant smile,
Vnloosing mee, and heales my wound and paine;
VVhen as afresh incenst (alacke the while)
Gainst mee, desirous me to plague againe:
She turnes towards me, ore-takes me, strikes me sore;
And binding vp my wounds, makes deadly more.
XVI
The golden tresses of a ladie faireAt first beginning were of this my loue:
But now at last vnto my dubble care,
To be the end of my sad life I proue.
Then did my doubtfull spirit liue in hope,
But now he feares, despairing as it were,
Because he doth perceiue in sudden broke
His hope, which dying hart did helpe and beare:
Since that the Haire, that Alpha me did binde
In loue, of life Omega I doo finde.
XVII
Sweet Laura, in the water looke no more,To see if feature thine be faire or no:
Looke in mine eyes, which teares raine streamings sore
Of bitter plaints, whose water cleere doth show,
As in a looking Glasse most bright to thee,
Those fauours which in that sweet visage bee.
So said I to her, when she answered bliue:
And thou my loue, say, dost thou likewise wish
To see thy selfe in one that is aliue?
Then in this Brest, looke where thine Image is:
Loue shall alike in both our bodies rest,
Beare thou mee in thine eyes, Ile thee in brest.
XVIII
If (Cruell) thou desirous art of blood,Behold how I doo bleed in streaming wise:
Glut then thy selfe therewith if thou thinke good,
And doo content with blood thy bloodie eyes.
From brest it comes, where fainting hart doth lye,
And (for a gift) I it present to thee,
Although I know (through this) I soone shall dye:
(And yet to die it little grieueth mee)
Since tis my wish, my blood with soule as one
May rest, and that's with thee, or els with none.
XIX
That Iuorie hand a Fanne most white doth hold,And to the milkie Brest blowes winde apace:
(And yet is full of chilly yce most cold)
Disgrace to others, to her selfe a grace.
But I who wistly marke these whitenes three,
Vouchsafe (sweet loue) this boone to graunt to mee.
Distill within the rouling of mine eyes
(By vertue of thy power) such hidden flame:
And let it tempred be in such strange wise,
That as I cast my looke vpon the same,
It quite may take away her crueltie,
Melt straight the Ice, and Fanne burne suddenly.
XX
The Snakes (amongst themselues) so carefullyLoue one another, (wonder for to see)
As if th' one want, the other straight doth dye:
Ladie, vnto these Snakes vnlike we bee.
For if I die, thou di'est not for my death,
But through my paine reuiu'st: such is thy spite,
And pleasure takst to see me voyd of breath.
Ah, yet in loue lets vnto them be like.
Thou Cupid worke, that I (poore Snake in loue)
This dainfull Snake for to be kinde may moue.
XXI
Laura is faire and cruell both in one,And borne was of a daintie Diamond:
Then is it meruaile neither wonder none,
Although her hart as hard as stone be found.
Nature that hardnes (as a Keeper) gaue
To her, her Beautie thereby so to saue.
But fond is he, and simple in concaite,
That thinkes Loue will not one day burst the same:
Then quickly (mightie Lord) quickly this breake,
Breake thou this stonie hart so hard in twaine,
Vnto thy power let Natures force still yeeld,
And be thou Conquerour gainst her in field.
XXII
The snow-white Swan betokens brightsome Day,The cole-blacke Crow of darkie Night is signe,
Thou Day or Night bring vnto mee still may
With those bright lampes, those glistering stars of thine:
But (cruell thou) thy hart is bent so hard,
As I that Sunne can neuer see with eyes
(That wishd for Sun, from these my lights debard,
Nor ought discerne, but mists in foggie wise.
Then since I liue in woe (and blinde) naught see,
A Crow not Swan thou still shalt be to mee.
XXIII
Say Cupid, since thou wings so swift doost beare,Within my hart (alone) why doost thou lye?
Why doost not seeke to lodge some other where,
And to some other place why doost not hye?
Goe vnto her who hath the Lilly brest,
Who though she hates mee, yet I loue her best,
If her to entertaine thee thou shalt finde,
It is a signe she hateth mee no more:
Straight then returne againe, and show her minde
To my Desire, who for this newes longs sore.
Then pre thee goe, no longer lingring stay,
Least when thou wouldst thou canst not goe thy way..
XXIIII
On Quicksedge wrought with louely EglantineMy Laura laid her handkercher to drie,
(Which had before snow white ywashed bin)
But after, when she cald to memorie,
That long twold be before, and verie late
Ere Sunne could doo, as would her glistering eyes:
She cast from them such sparkling glaunces straite,
And with such force, in such a strangie guise;
As suddenly, and in one selfe same time,
She dryde her cloth, but burnt this hart of mine.
XXV
Gold vpon gold mine onely Ioy did plate,Whilst she did dresse her head by christall Glasse:
But whilst she lookt on it, it sodaine brake;
So (as amazde thereat) much grieud she was.
To whom I said; To grieue thus tis in vaine,
Since what is broke, whole cannot be againe.
Looke stedfastly with both thine eyes on mee,
Who haue my hart (through Loue) a glasse new made:
She on my face lookt, and her selfe did see:
Wherewith (contented throughly) thus she said,
Most happie I, since for to dresse my hed,
For broken glasse, of whole one I am sped.
XXVI
The Heauens begin with thunder for to breakeThe troubled Aire, and to the coloured Fields
The Lightning for to spoyle their pride dooth threat,
Each thing vnto the furious Tempest yeelds.
And yet me thinkes within mee I doo heare
A gentle voyce hard at my hart to say,
Feare nothing thou, but be of merrie cheere,
Thou onely safe fore others all shalt stay:
To saue thee from all hurt, thy Shield shall bee,
The shadow of the conquering Laurall Tree.
Fano.
XXVII
Loue this faire Lasse (said Loue) once vnto mee,I lou'd her; loue her now (saith he) no more,
When thousand darts within my brest there bee,
And if I loue her, he mee threatneth sore:
He saith himselfe is falne in loue with her,
And that himselfe fore others hee'l prefer.
His sense is this, He in her beauteous eyes,
Hath found such Amours as nere like were seene:
But thinkes he this shall serue, in cunning wise
To make mee leaue, he cousning me so cleene?
In spite of him Ile loue, sith hart doth gree
With Loue in loue, as Riuall for to bee.
XXVIII
My Mistres (writing) as her hand did shakeThe Pen did dash, which on her gowne did spurt:
One drop more higher than the rest did take,
And to presume to touch her Brest it durst.
Vpon her daintie bosome it did light,
Wherewith she blusht, in show like damaske Rose:
Presumptuous Blacke, how dar'dst thou tuch that White;
Wherein a world of gladsome pleasure growes?
Yet (spite of enuie) hapt it for the best,
To the white more grace, more bewtie twas to th' brest
XXIX
None dares now look more on my Lauras face,So dangerous is her beautie to behold:
For he no sooner giues to her the gaze,
But straight his hart she takes from him so bold:
Such vertue's lockt within those ebbon Eyes,
Where (dallying with Delight) Dan Cupid lyes.
So sweetly rouleth shee that radiant Spheare,
As she (from whom she lists) robs suddenly:
So as to looke on her each one doth feare,
And yet to looke on her spare will not I:
For though I loose my Hart, and him disease,
I like shall my Desire, and her Ile please.
XXX
Vnbare that Iuorie hand, hide it no more,For though it death brings to my tender hart,
To see it naked, where is beauties store,
And where moyst Pearle with Azure doth impart:
Yet feare I not to dye in this sweet wise,
My fancie so to see't, is set on fire:
Then leaue that Gloue, most hatefull to mine eyes,
And let me surfet with this kinde Desire;
So that my lookes may haue of them their fill,
Though hart decay, Ile take it for none ill.
Mantoa.
XXXI
My Mistres seemes but browne (say you) to mee.Tis verie true, and I confesse the same:
Yet loue I her, although that browne she bee,
Because to please me she is glad and faine.
I loued one most Beautifull before,
Whom now (as Death) I deadly doo abhore.
Because to scorne my seruice her I found,
I gaue her ore, and chose to mee this same:
Nor to be faithfull (thinke I) I am bound
To one in whom no kindnes doth remaine:
This is the cause, for Browne and Pittifull,
I left a faire, but yet a faithlesse Trull.
XXXII
White art thou like the mountaine snow to see,I blacke like to the burned coale doo show:
Then giue some of thy purest white to mee,
And Ile some of my Blacke on thee bestow.
So will wee these two Contraries vnite
Together, which so ioynd will show more faire:
Lets both then make this change for our delight,
Vnlesse to kill mee thou doo little care.
But why of white or blacke talke I to thee?
My blood not blacke tis, which thou faine wouldst see.
XXXIII
As Sacrifice vnto a Goddesse brightMy hart I offered with Deuotion great,
Thinking that She Loues Temple had been right.
But what vnwares I spide not then in heate,
I (warie) now discerne her for to bee
Of Hell below the rightest crueltee.
I was deceiud, I doo confesse: That smile,
That wanton smile that bred in me delight,
Hid in those lips so faire did mee beguile:
O Beautie false, O crueltie most right.
Flee flee (my Hart) flee then if thou be wise,
Thy hurt, my burning heate, her trecheries.
XXXIIII
Strange is this thing, my Horse I cannot makeVVith spurre, with speech, nor yet with rod in hand
Force him to goe, although great paines I take,
Doo what I can, he still as tyrde doth stand:
No doubt he feeles an heauie weight of mee,
VVhich is the cause he standeth still as stone:
Nor is he ware that now he carrieth three,
He thinkes (poore Iade) I am on's backe alone:
But three we are with mine owne selfe I proue,
Laura is in my Hart, in Soule is Loue.
Pesaro.
XXXV
When I of my sweet Laura leaue did take,Faire Fanos Cittie for a while to leaue:
Shee gaue to mee (to weare it for her sake)
Of gold and pearle a daintie wouen Wreathe.
Deere was the gift, because for loue it came;
But deerer more, cause Shee gaue me the same.
I looke on't still, and kisse it as my ioy;
Kissing and bussing it, with it I play:
Which at one instant brings me mirth and noy.
And sighing oft, thus to my selfe I say;
White pearls are these, yet hath her mouth more faire;
Fine gold is this, yet finer is her haire.
Fano.
XXXVI
With thousand bands of furious inward heateLoue bindes my Sowle, and burnes my gentle hart:
And two wayes Laura death to mee doth threate,
With colour fresh, and wanton eye like dart,
This for reward for all my loue I gaine,
For my good will two Enemies I haue,
Laura and Loue: foure plagues conspire my paine,
Because I like, and whats but iust doo craue;
Fire, Roseall colour, Eyes, and cruell Band:
These at the gaze of Beautie make me stand.
XXXVII
If scalding sighes my faith may testifie,And brinish teares of Loue may warrant bee:
Both th' one and th' other thou hast seene with eye:
Then what wouldst haue (hard Harted) more of mee?
But thou (perhaps) though much I haue endured;
Wouldst yet be better of my faith assured.
Then with thine eyes into my brest doo peere,
(VVhich for the nonce I leaue to open sight)
And that which now thou doubtst, see shalt thou cleere
Ah, marke it then; and view what showes so bright.
But too too cruell art thou and precise,
That wilt not crdite giue to thine own eyes.
XXXVIII
The haplesse Argus (happie in this same)The glorie of the Sunnes surpassing light,
The brightnes of the Starres (the fire which staine)
VVith hundred eyes behold them alwayes might.
But I (alas) who haue but onely twaine,
Cannot behold the Beautie of my Sunne:
For which I liue as blinde in endlesse paine,
And count my selfe for want thereof vndone.
I can but wish that I an Argus were,
VVith hundred eyes to view her euerie where.
XXXIX
In vastie Sea, faine would my slender MuseVVade in thy praise, to praise thy beautie right:
But (Ladie) I for pardon craue excuse,
To breake such waues too brittle is her might:
Meane time with lowly Verse, in humble show,
Along the shallow shoare Ile wading goe.
The time may come (perhaps) ere it be long,
That this my quill more bold may write thy praise,
And venter for to sayle in th' Ocean strong,
Though now on graueld shore it fearfull staies.
And where as now to dip his foote he feares,
He then shall diue himselfe ore head and eares.
Fano.
XL
VVhen I did part, my Soule did part from mee,And tooke his farewell of thy beauteous Eyne:
But now that I (returned) doo thee see,
He is returnd, and liues through kindnes thine,
And of thee looketh for a welcome home.
I then not anie more to sorrow need,
Now I am come: and if before alone
On shadow then, on substance now I feed.
So, if my parting bitter was and sad,
Sweete's my returne to thee, and passing glad.
The Conclusion of the last Part.
Timantes when he saw he could not paineWith liuely colours (to his lasting fame)
Such workes he tooke in hand, and found too faint
His cunning, seeking for to hide the same,
He ouer them a subtill shadow drew:
So that his faults, or none or few could view.
So Ladie, I finding my wit too weake,
With currant tearmes your beautie foorth to blaze,
And that to arriue too blunt is my conceit
Vnto the height of your surmounting praise:
With silence forced am (against my will)
To shadow my defect, (the want of skill).
Yet doo I hope, the shadow you'l not scorne,
Since Princes in their stately Arbors greene
Account of shade, as trees which frute adorne,
Because from heate they welcome shelters been.
The Shadow shields gainst Sunne your beautie faire,
VVhich else his scortching heate would much impaire.
Then though a Shadow without frute I bee,
And scarce yeeld leaues to couer this my barke:
Accept these leaues thy Beauties Shade of mee,
VVhere wealth doth ebbe, good will doth flow from Hart:
Deigne me for all my loue but Shadow thine,
Thy Substance's too too high for Fortune mine.
R. T.
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