University of Virginia Library

2. Ane Dyor

[Quhen diaphantus knew]

Quhen diaphantus knew
the destanyes decreete,
Quhenn he was forcet for to forgoe
his deere and loving sweit,
Ouervoited with ye vailles
of balme rebaiting trees,
Ourgazeinges grouflings on ye gronde
with death prent in his eyes,
Oft preeisit hee to speeke.
Ohe quhile hee did assaye
The agonizing dread of deathe
his wrastling voyce did stay.
At last as one quho stryues
aganes both woe and shame,
diere charridora can he crye
myne aȝ adoirit dame,
First I attest thy name
syne nixt the godds aboue,
But cheefe of thes, that boy that beeris,
ye staitely stile of loue.
Let thoese recoirds wt me,
what was my constante pairt,
And giue I did noucht honour the
with ane weell hallowit hairt
To sacreefice to the
my secreete chaist desyres
Vpoun thy bewties alter brunte
with neuer quenching fyeris.
Thow was that idole still
quhoes Image I adoirit,
The sanct to quhome I made my vowes
quhoes pities I imploirit,
The stare which saued my schipe
from tempest of dispair
Quhen the horizoun of my hoipe
ou'r cloudit was with cair.
Thow was that soueraigne balme
that sweet catholick saw
Quhilk couerit me of all my ills,
that did my heart ou'rthrow.
But now such strange event's
hes interveinit sen syne
That I dare not avow to saye
nor think that thow art myne,
Quhilk makes me to insert
in thois my sorrowing songes
The histories of my mishaps
my miseries and wronges.
Noucht that I can accuise
my charidora no,
I onlie execrate the Wierds
cheefe workeris of my woe.
Sould schoe quhom I haue seruit
sua mony lotsum ȝeeris,
For quhom my dew distelling eyes
hes sched suche storme of teirs,
Sould schoe, I say be made
ane pray to suche a one
Quho for her saike he never gave
not ane vntymely grone?
No suirelie swrelie no
the weirdes may doe me wrong
And mak her by there bade decreete
to quhom schoe suld belong,
Becaus the heavin dothe blenke on sum
moir blyther yen on me
And giue them giftes moir plawsible
to charme a churles eye.
Ȝet dare I weell compaire
yea peraduenture vaunte
That schoe is myne by richt of loue
thoucht luck in love I wante.
Albeit my horoscope
Invaide my worldlie thinges,
Ȝit into loue it gaue me liue
for to compair with kinges.
For giue I knew there were
beneathe the starrie skye
That durst avow to loue my loue
moir faithfullie then I,
I would ryue out this heart
which interteanes my breathe
And cast it doune befoir her feete
and dye a schamefull death.
But sen boith tyme and schoe
hes tryit me to be trew
And founde such faithfullnes in me
as salbe founde in few,
I rest secuire in that
and cair noucht wha pretend,
The mae presoome the mair my pairt
proues perfit to ye end
And wtheris faithless faythe
in ballaunce put with myne
Sall mak my treuth for to triumph
and lyke a sunne to schyne.
There sall no change of tyme,
of heavin, of soile, noir ayre,
Inforce me to forgett my vowes
maide to my fairest fair,
Quhilk now I heere renew
In solemne forme againe
That to witnes as I beganne
so sall I suire remaȝne.
I sweere by thy tuo eyne
my onlie dearest deare,
And by the stageoun stankes of hell
by which ye gods do sweir,
That thow arte onlie schoe
quhois countenance I crave,
That I salbe in lyfe and death
thy best affected slaue,
That I sall neither sighe nor sobe
nor ȝit sall greit nor grone
For one that euer sall tak lyfe,
saif the evin the allone,
That there sall no deceit
of lovelye laughing ene
Nor charmeing sounds of syrion songes
nor fare fetchit sighes betuene
Deface out of my mynde
whiche are so suire Imprest
Thy wordes soe wyse, thy luikes so grave,
thy maneris so modest,
That day sall nevir daw
nor sunne sall never schyne
Sall quarrell me for appostate
for naucht remayneing thyne.
And that which heere I sweere
least sylence suld it smoir
The verie trees sall testiefie
quhilk onlie are befoir,
And cheefe and aboue all
this holeine sade and grene
Into the quhilk thy name and myne
in graven maȝ be sene.
O happie happie tree
quhoes euer blessit barke
Sall ludge the trophie of our loue
for thy Immortall worke,
Quhilk hes the force to caus
the memorie remaȝne
Sequestrate from the bastard soirt
of trees which are prophane,
And quhenn the rest salbe
ouerpast with cairles eye
Ȝet sall thow be adorit and kist
for charidorais trei.
Ȝet peraduenture to
For diaphantus saike
Sum rectles bodie cumming by
will homage to the make.
Thus blisst sall thow remayne
quhenn I salbe agast
Into quhat corner of the eirth
poore wretch I salbe cast.
Indeid all is in doubt
saue this we mone depairt,
The bodye must in pilgrime be
and shee must haue ye hart,
The thoucht of quhilk exyle
and dolorous devoirce
Breedes sorrow sorrow heer in me
this eloquence perforce.
For quhill I was resoluit
to thesaurize my greeife,
Becaus that it sould move in men
moir mervell nor beleef,
The never ceassing feide
of melancounterous faites
Ouerhaistnit this abortiue birth
of Importune regrates
To witnes to the world
that my mishaps are suche
That thoucht I murne lyke man half mad
I cannot murne too much.
For giue of all mishaps
this be the first of all,
To haue bene happie happie anes
and fra yat hap to fall,
I wote I maȝ weell say
that diaphantus name
Is the sononyme of all mishaps
and signifies the same.
For giue there wer no hell
but out of heavin to bee,
Considder what her wante wald worke
whois syt wes hevin to me.
I think all thois that speekes
of sorrow sould think shame
Quhenn diaphantus salbe heard
for charidorais name.
Her bewtie was but bloote,
her treuth wes vnreprovit,
The ane deseruit for to liue
the vther for to be lovit.
Ȝit hes this deuilshe dame
of destanies ordanit
That he sall lois baith lyfe and loue
and schee a faytfull frende.
Quherefoir all ȝee that heeris
these amorous tragickt playes,
Bestow on me ane world of plantes,
on her a world of prais.