 | The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund |  |
Scæna. 1.
Cupid commeth out of the heauens in a cradle of flowers, drawing forth vpon the stage in a blew twiste of silke, from his left hand Vaine hope, Brittle ioy. And with a carnation twist of silke from his right hand, Faire resemblance, Late Repentance.Cupid.
There rest my chariot on the mountaine tops,
I that in shape appeare vnto your sight
A naked boy, not cloathde but with my wings,
Am that great God of Loue, who with his might
Ruleth the wast wide world, and liuing things.
This left hand beares vaine hope, short ioyfull state,
With faire Resemblance, louers to allure,
This right hand holds Repentance all too late,
Warre, fire, bloud, and paines without recure.
On sweete Ambrosia, is not my foode,
Nectar is not my drinke, as to the rest
“Of all the Gods: I drinke the louers bloud,
Well hath my power in heauen and earth bin tride,
And deepest hell, my pearcing force hath knowen.
The marble seas, my wonders haue descride,
Which elder age throghout the world hath blowen.
To me, the king of Gods and men doth yeeld,
As witnes can the Greekish maide, whom I
Made like a cow go lowing through the field,
Leastiealous Iuno should the scape espie:
The doubled night, the Sunnes restrained course,
His secret stealths, the slander to eschew,
In shape transformd, we list not to discourse.
All that and more we forced him to do.
The warlike Mars hath not subdude our might,
We feard him not, his furie nor disdaine,
That can the Gods record: before whose sight
He laie fast wrapt in Vulcans subtill chaine.
He that on earth yet hath not felt our power,
Let him behold the fall and cruell spoile
Of thee faire Troy, of Asia the flower,
So foule defast, and leueld with the soile.
Who forst Leander with his naked brest
So many nights to cut the frothie waues,
But Heroes loue, that lay inclosde in Sest?
The stoutest hearts to me shall yeeld them slaues.
Who could haue matcht the huge Alcides strength,
Great Macedon, what force might haue subdude?
Wise Scipio who ouercame at length,
But we, that are with greater force endude?
Who could haue conquered the golden fleece
But Iason, aided by Medeas art?
Who durst haue stolne faire Helen out of Greece
What bond of nature, what restraint auailes
Against our power? I vouch to witnes truth.
The Myrhe tree that with shamefast teares bewailes
Her fathers loue, still weepeth yet for ruth.
But now, this world not seeing in these daies,
Such present proofes of our al-daring power,
Disdaines our name, and seeketh sundrie waies,
To scorne and scoffe, and shame vs euerie houre,
A brat, a bastard, and an idle boy,
A rod, a staffe, a whip to beate him out,
And to be sicke of loue, a childish toy,
These are mine honors now the world about,
My name disgrast, to raise againe therefore,
And in this age, mine ancient renowme
By mightie acts, intending to restore,
Downe to the earth, in wrath now am I come.
And in this place, such wonders shall ye heare,
As these your stubborne, and disdainfull hearts,
In melting teares, and humble yeelding feare,
Shall soone relent by sight of others smarts.
This princely pallace, will I enter in,
And there inflame, the faire Gismunda, so
In raging all her secret vaines within,
Through firie loue, that she shall feele much wo.
Too late repentance, thou shalt bend my bow.
Vaine hope, take out my pale dead heauie shaft,
Thou faire Resemblance, formost forth shalt go,
With Brittle ioy: my selfe will not be least,
But after me, comes death, and deadly paine.
Thus shall ye march, till we returne againe,
Meane while, sit still, and here I shall you shew
Ye shall relent, and saie that now ye know,
Loue rules the world, Loue is a mightie Lord,
Exit.
Cupid with his traine entereth into King Tancreds Pallace.
| The Tragedy of Tancred and Gismund | |