University of Virginia Library

To Dorinda.

Elegie. 2.

Disdainefull girle that hates thy louer most,
Playing the tyrant with thy beauteous face,
Seeming as wonne, when thou art neerest lost,
Clouding thy beautie with a foule disgrace,
Since blacke disdaine enioyes the cheefest place,
Conceiue remorse, lest thou remorselesse die
Thine acts the authors of thy miserie.

25

How manie times and oft haue I profesd
Vnto thy beautie ceremoniall loue?
What vowes, what hests haue beene by me expresd
Farre more then Adon in Idalias groue,
More then the solemne hests of Turtle doue?
The verie Pellicane is not more true
Vnto her brood, then I would be to you.
Yet thou contemns my loue, and in despite
Of me and of my loue, fleeres in my face:
O will not heauen this crueltie requite,
And dispossesse thee of an Angels place?
Grac'd with more beauty then with beauties grace,
Expect reuenge for heauens reueng'd will be
Of such vow-breaking miscreants as thee.
Wast not enough to scorne me for my want,
But thou must cherish me with fained loue;
And then triumph, and ore my ruins taunt?
In constant minion that doest change and moue
The ball of thy affection, to approue,
Some goulden Asse perchance that will admire
Not halfe so much thy selfe, as thy attire.
Some goulden calfe of Horeb will appeare,
First of his house: decended from a bagg
Of rustie gould, and he will call thee dere
Respectiue Ladie: then his head hee'l wagge,
And sweare by [illeg.]owpin of his summer-nag
He loues thee derely, thou must be his bride,
Since store of angels guard him on each side.

26

Thou must haue waxen tapers wrought in gould,
Thy beads of purest Amber earth can yeeld,
Thou must not tread vpon polluted mould,
Nor walke abroad into the open field,
Without thine estridge taile to be thy shield,
Thy drinke must Nectar be, and thou must eate
Such meate, as for thy diuine powers is meete.
Thy rusticke groome that talks of saluing sheepe,
Of wether-gals, and of the next yeeres dearth,
Will thee Dorinda like a Ladie keepe,
And feede thee with the dainties of the earth,
Replenished with pastures yeelding mirth:
For euery shepherd with his shepherds crooke,
Will striue who may most on thy beautie looke.
Heere will be Mopsus with his waineskot face,
There Damon with his trull will thee attend,
Then will old Acmon come with wearie pace,
And Melibeus hee's thy husbands friend,
Leaning vpon his staffe, will homeward send
For some meane gift, some cheese cake to diuide
Amongst the bride-maids & their courtly bride.
Among the rest thy Vulcane will be there,
Smeered with seacole, comely for his color,
And will begin to tie thy glittering haire
In tresses of pure gould: which are made fowler

27

By his irreuerend hands: where some controler
Will curbe his bouldnesse: am I bould (quoth he)
To touch those haires that doe belong to me?
No minion, no, you must not now partake
The gaudie fashions of a giddie braine,
But you must leaue them for your husbands sake,
And vse those tender parts to rurall paine,
To yeeld vnto your spouse a double gaine,
For rest assur'd Dorinda there be some,
Doe marrie you for after hopes to come.
And be resolu'd though such protest they loue,
Calling the heauens to record: they will be
Such as perfidious Tereus: and will proue
The verie ruine of your progenie,
And bring your state in time to miserie:
Then will you wish (but wishes come too late)
You had but wist the end of your estate.
But why Dorinda should I mention thee?
Why should I name Dorinda, that's vntrue,
A faith infringer, who affected me
And then forsooke me; how should I renew,
the sad memoriall which I had of you?
But with a pensiue heart, a sigh, a grone,
To intimate how I am left alone.

28

Come all ye wood-gods and adorne my brow,
With a poore willow garland, to expresse
The liuely colors of a tragicke show,
The true proportion of my pensiuenesse,
Remote from comfort, frought with heauinesse,
Where we will sing; though singing be vnfit,
And euery wood-nimph shall shed teares to it.
Come to my cell, and we will goe together,
Vnto Dorindas Nuptials, where will be
Great store of rurall swaines com'd flocking thither
A perfect relish of sweete harmonie:
Where we may well Dorindas beautie see:
And see her dance laualto in that measure,
As needes must yeelde to all contented pleasure.
And I haue friends there that will helpe to place
Vs, in a roome contented, to suruiew,
The polishd colors of her curious face,
Which though they doe my pensiue woes renew
Yet am I blest in that transparent shew
Of glorie and renowme, which ioind together
Enforce all shepherds to come flocking thether.
Thus will we talke and prattle of her beautie,
VVith Epithetes well fitting her deserts,
And I will tender to her shrine my duetie,

29

With offer of my loue and of my heart,
Of which she doth possesse the cheifest part:
That she would daine for to accept that prise,
We consecrate to her transpercing eies.

In laudem Dorindæ: per Antiphrasen.

She is the mirror and the type of fame,
If that a blemish did not daze her light,
But that one blot doth much empaire the same,
And hath obscur'd the splendor of her sight:
The scope she aimes at is not aimd aright,
If that one soile did not ecclips the rest,
She might be well reputed, worldes best.
[_]
------ Te Roma Caligiue cæcam
efficit insequitur fugientem Roma Dorindam.
vid. Mant & Luc. in Fragment.

O what content haue I conceau'd in thee
My sweete Dorinda? what a sugred smile,
A lippe of comfort relish'd pleasantly,
An eie that would the prudent'st thoughts beguile?
O with what character, or in what stile
Shall I describe thy feature glorious Saint,
Made of the most refined element?
Thē iudge what wound it was surpris'd mine hart.
When thou proscribd me from thy cherefull court,

30

And with contracted brow bad me depart,
From that repose where comforts make resort:
The birds themselues that heard can make report:
For manie time since I tooke leaue of thee,
The birds themselues sung dirges ouer me.
Recall to minde the time, the place, the words,
For I haue cause for to remember them,
And then conceaue what sorrow they afford,
What cause I haue for to surrender them
Into thy hands, that first did tender them,
O be not so hard-hearted, well I wot,
Thou canst not answer that thou knowest thē not.
O that so weake defectiue elements,
Vessels of frailtie should insult ore strength,
That gould should be prest downe by excrements,
Or womans power extended to that length,
That men (as clergie men) haue but the tenth
Of their affections in you, and receiue
Lesse comfort in your bed, then in your graue.
O what vnhappie planet did attend,
The first arriuall of mine haplesse foote,
Or what discomforts did the furies send
To make me runne a course so farre about,
With no more thanks then if I ran it not?
O fruitlesse labour, for what labour lighter
Thē wash the Æthyope that is nere made whiter?

31

Much haue I read of beautie, more of guile,
Which like a snake lies in the tender grasse,
The baine whereof her glorie doth defile,
And lies interd, as that, which neuer was,
Or like a gliding streame whose course doth passe,
And passing, cuts both hill and flowrie plaine,
Scorning by nature to returne againe.
But thou condemn'st me for some carelesse words,
In that I was respectlesse of thy loue:
O doe not forge vnkindenesse, that affords
More sorrow to my heart, then heauens aboue,
Or fatall Eris in her stigian groue,
What I haue spoke I pray thee speake no more,
And Ile recant what I haue said before.
Inioyne me penance, I will vndertake,
Alcydes labours to obtaine your loue,
Climing the Alps for my beloued sake,
So you distrust from your hard-heart remoue,
And of my faith inuiolate approue:
For be assur'd I nere my loue did shew
To your estate, but loue I bore to you.
But why runne I astray so farre remote
From that celestiall scope I aimed at:
I loue my loue, and yet she knoweth not,
Or will not know my minds perplex'd estate,
Those great distractions I conceiu'd of late,

32

She will not loue, she cannot like a swaine,
Who once repuls'd can make no sute againe,
VVell then surcease, and let this dolefull Ode
Abridge the web of thy extracted griefe,
Take vp thy shepheards crooke, make no abode,
This barraine pasture yeelds thee no reliefe,
But riuolets of teres whereof it's chiefe:
Then bid farewell to this disaster groue,
To Cupids arrowes, and the queene of loue.
[_]
Lumine qui semper proditur ipse suo.

Yet when I talke of Cupid and his bow,
The queene of loue that from mount Ida came,
Some more affecting passions I must show,
And paraphrase vpon Dorindas name:
Where though I blush, for I am full of shame,
Yet in my blush, I seeme to represent,
The beautie of my loues faire continent.
And when I looke me in the dismall glasse,
Where face redarts a face, me thinks I see,
The splendor of Dorindas comely face,
Where with her smile she doth encounter me,
And driues my sences to that extasie:
That I in Lethe droun'd, as all forgotten,
Lets the glasse fall, and so my glasse is broken.

33

Then am I eas'd, depriu'd of that I lou'd,
Opprest with sleepe yet cannot sleepe at all,
Till the remainders of my glasse remou'd,
VVhich were disperst by their vntimely fall,
For they (an ecco like) doe seeme to call
And rouse me from my rest, surpris'd which care,
And reft of rest, declining to despaire.
It may be (my Dorinda) if you wed,
Some splay-foot'd Vulcan you must make recourse,
Too too vnwilling, to a loathed bed,
Whereas distastefull pleasure hath no force,
But mixt with sorrow and with deepe remorse:
Heare me (Dorinda) these few hymns shall tell
That though you loath me, yet I wish you well.
Diue to the verie bottome of your heart,
And see the idiome of your louer there,
An indigested lumpe compos'd of art,
Where natures gifts did neuer yet appeare,
Where folly first her banner seem'd to reare,
An harsh distempred humour showen in him,
A Brillus wit, and a Thersytes limme.
But hee's religious: he can dirges say,
And has our ladies psalter all by heart:
He is modest, rich, and will each morning pray,
As if he had his prayers composd by art,
What you sustaine he euer beares a part:

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Nay more, to purchase your respectiue fauour,
Hee'l take himselfe to any cotqueanes labour.
Indeede Alcydes for his Omphale,
Past many perils much degenerate
From former glorie, pristine dignitie,
Which euer made attendance on his state,
Too much obscur'd by infamie of hate,
For he to win a queene did then begin,
To tease his wooll, to card and eke to spinne.
[_]
------ Et qui reges vicit, grandes labores egit.
victus amore cecidit:
Qui clauum, lanam exercet:
ibid: Nec nouit mentem comprimere,
qui tanta fecit.
vid Senec.

Each morne would he his taske imposed haue,
Which in a womans habit he perform'd,
And all to purchase her whom he did craue,
With curious roabes & precious gemmes adorn'd,
With whom in this disguise he long soiorn'd,
Till his long absence had his ruine wrought,
By Nessus blood, long time by Nessus sought.
[_]
------ Nessus hos struxit dolos:
cruore tincta est pallia semiferi (pater)
Nessus que nunc has exigit pænas sibi.
------ Et Oetæum Nemus
suscipiat, ignis, Herculem accipiat rogus.
Senec: in Oetæ: Hercul.


35

Beleeue me (faire Dorinda) if that loue
Consist in orisons, I must confesse,
Reason you haue your fancie to remoue,
Since heauens forgiue, frequent I nothing lesse,
Nor can I loue by solemne praiers expresse.
Hymns, pastorals, and pleasant laies beseeme,
Rather then orisons so faire a Queene.
If Hero had Leanders forme affected,
For rites or ceremonies consecrate
Vnto the powers aboue: she had respected
The Temple more to Iuno dedicate,
And had distempred lust in greater hate,
But she deuoted was vnto his shrine,
For carnall pleasures, not for hests diuine.
What comfort can a beauteous maide conceaue
In contemplation, since the practike part
Better accords with her, and she doth craue
A soueraigne salue to cure her wounded heart,
Which cannot be perform'd by men of art,
For learned Sophisters may reason well,
But what will please your sexe they cannot tell.

36

Thus therefore praise I, and yet discommend,
This harsh, yet sober kinde of speculation,
That frames her engine to a fruitlesse end,
About heauens motion and Sphæres eleuation,
Yet cannot make her vse of recreation:
VVherefore it's fruitlesse, and a barraine seede
That loues to grow alone, and hates to breede.
Renoumed ladie, least I wrong your eares
VVith the distastfull temper of my pen,
My muse her selfe from further course forbeares,
To shadow out your vertues to such men,
As liue obscured in obliuions den.
This therefore I haue writ to blase your name,
And not through hate for to ecclips the same.
Sooner shall Phæbus leaue his iuorie carre,
And giue his regiment to Phaeton:
Sooner shall Mars that powerfull god of warre
Retire in peace, and loue to lie alone:
Sooner shall Sysiphus to rowle his stone
Surcease, then I surcease to empall your daies
VVith poets wreaths, the laurell and the baies.