The Complete Works of George Gascoigne In Two Volumes |
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[Dame Cinthia her selfe (that shines so bright] |
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 | The Complete Works of George Gascoigne |  |
408
[Dame Cinthia her selfe (that shines so bright]
Dame
Cinthia her selfe (that shines so bright,
And dayneth not to leave hir loftie place:
But onely then, when Phœbus shewes his face.
Which is her brother borne and lendes hir light,)
Disdaind not yet to do my Lady right:
To prove that in such heavenly wightes as she,
It fitteth best that right and reason be.
For when she spied my Ladies golden raies,
Into the cloudes,
Hir head she shroudes,
And shamed to shine where she hir beames displaies.
And dayneth not to leave hir loftie place:
But onely then, when Phœbus shewes his face.
Which is her brother borne and lendes hir light,)
Disdaind not yet to do my Lady right:
To prove that in such heavenly wightes as she,
It fitteth best that right and reason be.
For when she spied my Ladies golden raies,
Into the cloudes,
Hir head she shroudes,
And shamed to shine where she hir beames displaies.
Good reason yet, that to my simple skill,
I should the name of Cynthia adore:
By whose high helpe, I might beholde the more,
My Ladies lovely lookes at mine owne will,
With deepe content, to ga[z]e, and gaze my fill:
Of courtesie and not of darcke disdaine,
Dame Cy[n]thia disclosde my Lady plaine.
Shee did but lende hir light (as for a lite)
With friendely grace,
To shew hir face,
That else would shew and shine in hir dispight.
I should the name of Cynthia adore:
By whose high helpe, I might beholde the more,
My Ladies lovely lookes at mine owne will,
With deepe content, to ga[z]e, and gaze my fill:
Of courtesie and not of darcke disdaine,
Dame Cy[n]thia disclosde my Lady plaine.
Shee did but lende hir light (as for a lite)
409
To shew hir face,
That else would shew and shine in hir dispight.
Dan Phœbus hee with many a lowring looke,
Had hir behelde [of] yore in angrie wise:
And when he coulde none other meane devise
To staine hir name, this deepe deceit he tooke,
To be the baite that best might hide his hooke:
Into hir eies his parching beames he cast,
To skorche their skinnes, that gaz'd on hir full fast:
Whereby when many a man was sunne burnt so
They thought my Queene,
The sonne had beene,
With skalding flames, which wrought them all that wo,
Had hir behelde [of] yore in angrie wise:
And when he coulde none other meane devise
To staine hir name, this deepe deceit he tooke,
To be the baite that best might hide his hooke:
Into hir eies his parching beames he cast,
To skorche their skinnes, that gaz'd on hir full fast:
Whereby when many a man was sunne burnt so
They thought my Queene,
The sonne had beene,
With skalding flames, which wrought them all that wo,
[So] that when many a looke had lookt so long,
As that their eyes were dimme and dazaled both:
Some fainting heartes that were both leude and loth
To looke agayne from whence that error sprong,
Gan close their eye for feare of farther wrong:
And some againe once drawen into the maze,
Gan leudly blame the beames of beauties blaze:
But I with deepe foresight did soone espie,
How phœbus ment,
By false intent,
To slaunder so her name with crueltie.
As that their eyes were dimme and dazaled both:
Some fainting heartes that were both leude and loth
To looke agayne from whence that error sprong,
Gan close their eye for feare of farther wrong:
And some againe once drawen into the maze,
Gan leudly blame the beames of beauties blaze:
But I with deepe foresight did soone espie,
How phœbus ment,
By false intent,
To slaunder so her name with crueltie.
Wherefore at better leasure thought I best,
To trie the treason of his trecherie:
And to exalt my Ladies dignitie
When Phœbus fled and drewe him downe to rest.
Amid the waves that walter in the west,
I gan behold this lovely Ladies face,
Whereon dame nature spent hir giftes of grace:
And found therein no parching heat at all,
But such bright hew,
As might renew,
An Aungels joyes in raigne celestiall.
To trie the treason of his trecherie:
And to exalt my Ladies dignitie
When Phœbus fled and drewe him downe to rest.
Amid the waves that walter in the west,
I gan behold this lovely Ladies face,
Whereon dame nature spent hir giftes of grace:
And found therein no parching heat at all,
But such bright hew,
As might renew,
An Aungels joyes in raigne celestiall.
410
The courteouse Moone that wisht to do me good,
Did shine to shew my dame more perfectly,
But when she sawe hir passing jollitie,
The Moone for shame, did blush as red as bloud,
And shrounke a side and kept hir hornes in hoode:
So that now when Dame Cynthia was gone,
I might enjoye my Ladies lokes alone,
Yet honoured still the Moone with true intent:
Who taught us skill,
To worke our will,
And gave us place, till all the night was spent.
Did shine to shew my dame more perfectly,
But when she sawe hir passing jollitie,
The Moone for shame, did blush as red as bloud,
And shrounke a side and kept hir hornes in hoode:
So that now when Dame Cynthia was gone,
I might enjoye my Ladies lokes alone,
Yet honoured still the Moone with true intent:
Who taught us skill,
To worke our will,
And gave us place, till all the night was spent.
F. J.
| The Complete Works of George Gascoigne | |