University of Virginia Library

All other pompe to tell (quoth Calasire)
Iouerpasse, and for you most desire,
To know how bore themselues that solemne day
Theagenes and his Chariclia;
Though yet not his; when he came forth, what ere
Was seene before, is thought not worth a peare.
The gallant mounted on a Dapple-gray,
In shining rich attire reuiu'd the day,
As Sunne broke out of cloud; his abron haire
Wau'd vp and downe with Æols gentlest aire.
Of purple veluet was his cloake, and wrought
With gold, how Lapiths with the Centaurs fought.
The Buckle-brooch thereof in fine Obryze
Had Pallas wrought with faire sky-colour'd eyes
Of Saphyr bright: her brest is couered
With stone-to-turning shield of Gorgons head.
Then in his hand the steely-pointed lance
So well became him; when he gan to prance,
(Helme had he none, his cheerely face to cloud)
I thought the horse was of the rider proud;
So wantonly to right, to left he flings,
And neighing, snorting, yerking, trots the rings:
Foot after foot then on the grasse he stamps,
And golden bit with teeth all-foamy champs:
Now this, now that way, fore and backward flyes,
With prick-eare, tost-vp head and rowling eyes;
With many a short curuet, and loftie bound,
So daintie trampling, as he scorn'd the ground;
At length on tip-hoofe striking for a space,
His fiercenesse moderates with pleasant pace:
So horse to man, and man to horse complies,
Not two, but one, they seeme to fall and rise.
Amaz'd were all at him, and women kinde,
That could not hide th'affections of their minde,
Cast many fauours at him mouing mirth,
And all him thought the goodliest thing on earth.

But when, like rosie-finger'd morning-shine,
Came faire Chariclia from Diana's shrine;
Theagenes, how euer they commend him,
Himselfe and they confesse she goes beyend him.
And yet (well dare I say) no further sure,
Then doth a womans beautie more allure.
In purple silke to foot, orecast with lawne,
She rode in Coach with two white oxen drawne,
As there the state is; gold and precious stone,
From thicker garment th'row the thinner shone.
Two Serpents made of gold, enamell'd blew,
With tailes entangled from her shoulders drew
Each t'other side, close vnder either arme,
And re-entangled, as it were by charme,
Some place they seeke, wherein to take their rest,
And met, and hung their heads below her brest:
And this her girdle was; they seeme full deepe
Enchanted by the virgin pap to sleepe.
Her amber haire nor all bound-vp, nor yet
All hanging loose, aboue with Coronet
Of Laurell tide is (left the winde it raise)
And vnderneath vpon her shoulder playes.
Below the right a perled quiuer hung
With siluer shafts, nor ouer short nor long;
Her left hand held a gilden bow, her right
A golden cansticke with wax taper light.
And eu'ry man her then beholding cryes,
How brighter than the taper been her eyes!
Then Cnemon suddenly burst-out; O these
Are true Chariclia, true Theagenes.
And Calasiris said, I pray now where?
As thinking Cnemon had espi'd them there.
Your speech, quoth he, so brought them me to minde;
As if I saw them. You shall neuer finde
The like, quoth Calasire, I speake it bold,
Sun neuer since did such a paire behold.
The man and wife like him and her that bee,
May thinke t'haue gotten immortalitee.

But come to point; when all the beasts were slaine
For sacrifice, some of the leaders traine,
Appointed thereunto, forthwith desire
Apollo's Priest begin, and tind the fire
Vpon his Altar; Charicles then said,
The Leader selfe must from Diana's Maid
The burning taper take, and fire the wood;
Mine office was to poure the wine and blood:
And so he did. Then came Theagenes
To fetch the taper: now (Sir, if you please)
By way obserue the soules diuinitee
In passage following, as seemes to me:
For, when each other first they gan behould,
They paus'd a while, as if they thought they should
Each other know. So minde and minde alike,
Though not acquainted, soone together strike:
As two quick siluer drops each other nigh
Can hardly stand, but soone together flie.
With more assured countenance yet she
That holy candle gaue, than tooke it he.
A little smile they both, and blush the while,
As if they were asham'd be seene to smile;
And after pale, now all the face, now part,
Declare th'affection had possest their heart.
And still their count'nance alter'd, and their eyes,
In such a sort as troubled minde implyes.
Which none so markt as I, who nothing there
Had else to doe, and, what was said whilere
By th'Oracle, now thought-on: so remain'd,
When he the taper taking was constrain'd
To leaue the Virgin, nothing else to doe
But complement, and fire the wood, and goe
To banquet with his Achillæan Peeres;
And she to chamber presently reteeres;
Puts-off her robes, and puts-on oth'r attire;
Not dwelling now with her supposed Sire,
For only feare of his importunance
To worke in her from purpose variance.

Now grew I curious marking what had past,
And Charicles to meet of purpose cast;
And haue you seene (quoth he) my ioy to day,
Yea Delphos ioy and mine, Chariclia?
Giue father leaue to dote on daughters face:
Pray, how d'ye like her? did she somewhat grace
The solemne shew? You aske as much, quoth I,
As if the Moone doe somewhat grace the skie.
I'me going to her, quoth he; goe with mee,
And how she doth, now all is past, let's see:
Lest any hurt she tooke amid the croud,
Or by the peoples roaring out so loud.
I gladly yeelded, making yet a show
Of other things neglect, with him to goe.
When there we come, we finde her sicke a bed,
She saith she cannot sleepe for paine in head.
But well did I obserue, at this surprise,
Her broken speeches, and her loue-sicke eyes;
Her father did not: He giues straight command
They make no noise about her, then by th'hand
He leads m'abroad, and saith, What thinke you (friend)
Of her so sudden change at one hours end?
In such a prease (quoth I) or in, or out,
Some glance of eye bewitcht her hath, no doubt.
You then belike, in iesting wise quoth he,
And smil'd therewith, beleeue that such there be.
I doe, quoth I, and, as I thought to proue
The like by reason, both in hate and loue;
Comes one in haste (he seem'd well soak'd in wine)
And saith, My masters meane you not to dine?
You seeme as slow, as if to battell prest
You rather were, than bid to such a feast.
And this the ba-ba-braue Theagenes
In honour makes of Neoptolemes.
This man (quoth Charicles) doth so inuite vs,
As if to dinner he would driue and sinite vs:
W'had best be gone. You doe but iest (quoth I)
But let vs goe indeed, intending why.
And when we came, he Charicles doth place
The next him-to, and for his sake me grace.

To passe the rest, this youth behau'd himselfe,
As well-became Embassadour to Delph.
Nor spake, nor lookt, as loue-sicke one, but strivve
Vnt'all his guests good entertaine to giue
With cheerly countenance: but I could see
How aft'r a sigh he fained a merrie glee,
Was sad sometime, yet would himselfe recall,
And into sundrie changes easly fall.
For Bacchus-like is Cupid, some men thinke;
And Drinkers soone will loue; and Louers drinke,
This Charicles percein'd, and softly twitcht
Me by the sleeue, and said; Hath eye bewitcht
This gallant too? Quoth I, we may't inferre;
For who excell'd but he, next after her?
He drunke a health vnt'all, at length to me;
I thankt, but pledg'd him not, and thereat he
Seem'd discontent; me Charicles excus'd,
And said, drinke wine th'Ægyptian Priest not vsd.
He now perceiuing what I was, and whence,
Me more esteem'd, and set aside offence.
And, glad as one that had a treasure found
Vpon a sudden, hidden in the ground,
To me againe he drunke in water cleere,
And said (Graue father) let our meeting here,
And this carouse in that you fancie best,
Confirme our loue, and setl'it fast in brest.
Content, most noble Prince (quoth I) for so
Was my desire: therewith we rise and goe.

When home I came, I so began to thinke
On these affaires, I covld not sleepe a winke:
But studied still what meant the latter part
Of th'Oracle, and found it past mine Art.
Now neere on midnight (wheth'r I wakt, or slept,
I cannot tell; but sure I am I wept,
Because I found not out the mysterie)
This vision had I from our Deitee:
Apollo with Diana came; and he
Theagenes me brought, Chariclia she;
And told me time was now I should retire
To natiue soyle: and said, O Calasire,
Now time is come, and Destinie commands:
Then take these two (and put them to my hands)
Int' Ægypt with you, neuer trust deceiue;
But keepe and guide them as the Gods giue leaue.
Glad was I (Cnemon) so much more to know,
That homeward now I with these two should goe:
But how my Charicles should be depriu'd,
And our departure handsomely contriu'd,
I could not see; When Gods will haue thing done
They tender meanes; This while I thought vpon,
At breake-aday one at my portall knockt,
And when my seruant had the doore vnlockt;
Who should it be, but selfe Theagenes!
My troubled minde me thought then felt some ease;
I thought (and likely 'twas) that when he knew
I was a Gypsie, not of common crew,
But Priest of Memphis; that he thought I might
In loue so faithfull helpe to doe him right;
And therefore came: we kindly consalute,
And on my bed he sate a while as mute.
What makes my Lord (quoth I) thus early rise?
And why to me? he wip'd his loue-sicke eyes,
And said, O father, neuer stood I more
I need of helpe. When I him askt, wherefore?
He blusht aud held his peace: I saw my time
To play the Gypsie; and thus began to trie him.
What you conceale (quoth I) and tell me doubt,
I shall by cunning Gypsie-skill finde out:
And smiling rais'd my selfe, and counters tooke
Betwixt my fingers, nought to numb'r, and looke
As one possest, and wistly them remoue
From place to place, and say, my son's in loue.
He start thereat; but when I further said,
In loue (I say) and with Diana's Maid;
He thought indeed I spoke with Pow'r Diuine,
And me to worship gan himselfe encline:
Which I forbad him; but some teares he shed,
And softly stroakt my beard, and kist my head;
At length burst-out in these; yet am I glad,
And thanke the Gods, that (looke) what hope I had,
It failes me not; and pray'd me saue his life,
And helpe to make this goodly Nymph his wife:
And said he was a dead man else, and swore
He neuer woman knew, or lou'd before.
And wept as 'twere for griefe it should be said,
So stout a man was conquer'd by a Maid.
I comfort him, and feare not, say, my boy;
Wee'll ouercome her, be she ne're so coy;
So you be rul'd; he said, th'row sword and fire
He would obey his father Calasire:
And promis'd me reward, his whole estate.
As thus we talke, one raps hard at my gate,
And prayes me come with speed to Charicles,
Now in the Temple gone about t'appease
Apollo's wrath, for some vnpleasing sight,
And fearfull dreame that he hath had to night.
So more in hope departs Theagenes,
And glad I sent-for was by Charicles.
I sad and sighing finde him, aske him why:
O deerest friend (quoth he) this night had I
Most strange and fearfull dreames, and my Charic
(The rest a sob cut off) continues sicke.
Now shortly run our youth in armes, and she,
Diana's Nymph should their torch-holder be.
To keepe our custome, helpe and vse your skill,
In this I know you can doe what you will.
Vncharme that eye that so bewitcht my guirle,
And wee'll reward you both in gold and pearle.
I must confesse 'twas yet forgot (quoth I)
And time you must afford me, both t'apply
And make the med'cine; yea, the Maid you must
Perswade well of me, that she may me trust.
I will (quoth he) and come now let's goe to her.
No sooner entred at her chamber doore;
But I her sicknesse read could in her face:
Her colour's gone, her all-delighting grace
With pearly show'r allay'd; yet when she saw
Vs two, of whom she stood so much in awe,
Sate vp, compos'd her selfe, began t'aduance,
And call againe her former countenance.
Then Charicles her oft embracing kist,
And said, What ailes mine only childe? what is't
Hath wrought this change in you? and why conceale you
This hurt from me, who may deuise to heale you?
Ha' cheere my guirle, and be no whit dismaid,
This reu'rend Father promiseth his aid:
To cure your sicknesse hold him th'only man;
For, if he will doe what he can, he can.
She nothing said; but made vs well conceiue,
By signe, she yeelded: so we tooke our leaue.
And Charicles me pray'd along the way
To thinke vpon't, and make no more delay:
Especially to worke in her a minde,
To loue a man, as ought all woman-kinde.
I made him answer, such as well him pleas'd,
'Tis nothing hard to cure one so diseas'd.