The Works of Christopher Marlowe Volume III Part 19

Cypa.s.sis, that a thousand ways trim'st hair, Worthy to kemb none but a G.o.ddess fair, Our pleasant scapes show thee no clown to be, Apt to thy mistress, but more apt to me.

Who that our bodies were comprest bewrayed?

Whence knows Corinna that with thee I played?

Yet blushed I not, nor used I any saying, That might be urged to witness our false playing.

What if a man with bondwomen offend, To prove him foolish did I e'er contend? 10 Achilles burnt with face of captive Briseis, Great Agamemnon loved his servant Chryseis.[278]

Greater than these myself I not esteem: What graced kings, in me no shame I deem.

But when on thee her angry eyes did rush, In both thy[279] cheeks she did perceive thee[280] blush.

But being present,[281] might that work the best, By Venus deity how did I protest!

Thou G.o.ddess dost command a warm south blast, My self oaths in Carpathian seas to cast. 20 For which good turn my sweet reward repay, Let me lie with thee, brown Cypa.s.s, to-day.

Ungrate, why feign'st new fears, and dost refuse?

Well may'st thou one thing for thy mistress use.[282]

If thou deniest, fool, I'll our deeds express, And as a traitor mine own faults confess; Telling thy mistress where I was with thee, How oft, and by what means, we did agree.

FOOTNOTES:

[277] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[278] "Serva Phoebas" (_i.e._ Ca.s.sandra).

[279] Old eds. "my."

[280] So ed. B.--Ed. C "the."

[281]

"At quanto, si forte refers, _praesentior_ ipse, Per Veneris feci numina magna fidem."

[282] The original has "Unum est e dominis emeruisse satis."

ELEGIA IX.[283]

Ad Cupidinem.

O Cupid, that dost never cease my smart!

O boy, that liest so slothful in my heart!

Why me that always was the soldier found, Dost harm, and in thy[284] tents why dost me wound?

Why burns thy brand, why strikes thy bow thy friends?

More glory by thy vanquished foes ascends.

Did not Pelides whom his spear did grieve, Being required, with speedy help relieve?

Hunters leave taken beasts, pursue the chase, And than things found do ever further pace. 10 We people wholly given thee, feel thine-arms, Thy dull hand stays thy striving enemies' harms.

Dost joy to have thy hooked arrows shaked In naked bones? love hath my bones left naked.

So many men and maidens without love, Hence with great laud thou may'st a triumph move.

Rome, if her strength the huge world had not filled, With strawy cabins now her courts should build.

The weary soldier hath the conquered fields, His sword, laid by, safe, tho' rude places yields;[285] 20 The dock inharbours s.h.i.+ps drawn from the floods, Horse freed from service range abroad the woods.

And time it was for me to live in quiet, That have so oft served pretty wenches' diet.

Yet should I curse a G.o.d, if he but said, "Live without love," so sweet ill is a maid.

For when my loathing it of heat deprives me, I know not whither my mind's whirlwind drives me.

Even as a headstrong courser bears away His rider, vainly striving him to stay; 30 Or as a sudden gale thrusts into sea The haven-touching bark, now near the lea; So wavering Cupid brings me back amain, And purple Love resumes his darts again.

Strike, boy, I offer thee my naked breast, Here thou hast strength, here thy right hand doth rest.

Here of themselves thy shafts come, as if shot; Better than I their quiver knows them not: Hapless is he that all the night lies quiet.

And slumbering, thinks himself much blessed by it. 40 Fool, what is sleep but image of cold death, Long shalt thou rest when Fates expire thy breath.

But me let crafty damsel's words deceive, Great joys by hope I inly shall conceive.

Now let her flatter me, now chide me hard, Let me[286] enjoy her oft, oft be debarred.

Cupid, by thee, Mars in great doubt doth trample, And thy stepfather fights by thy example.

Light art thou, and more windy than thy wings; Joys with uncertain faith thou tak'st and brings: 50 Yet Love, if thou with thy fair mother hear, Within my breast no desert empire bear; Subdue the wandering wenches to thy reign, So of both people shalt thou homage gain.

FOOTNOTES:

[283] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[284] So ed. B.--Ed. C "my."

[285] In some strange fas.h.i.+on Marlowe has mistaken the substantive "rudis" (the staff received by the gladiator on his discharge) with the adjective "rudis" (rude). The original has "Tutaque deposito poscitur ense rudis."

[286] Old eds. "Let her enjoy me;" but the original has "Saepe fruar domina."

ELEGIA X.

Ad Graecinum quod eodem tempore duas amet.

Graecinus (well I wot) thou told'st me once, I could not be in love with two at once; By thee deceived, by thee surprised am I, For now I love two women equally: Both are well favoured, both rich in array, Which is the loveliest[287] it is hard to say: This seems the fairest, so doth that to me; And[288] this doth please me most, and so doth she; Even as a boat tossed by contrary wind, So with this love and that wavers my mind. 10 Venus, why doublest thou my endless smart?

Was not one wench enough to grieve my heart?

Why add'st thou stars to heaven, leaves to green woods, And to the deep[289] vast sea fresh water-floods?

Yet this is better far than lie alone: Let such as be mine enemies have none; Yea, let my foes sleep in an empty bed, And in the midst their bodies largely spread: But may soft[290] love rouse up my drowsy eyes, And from my mistress' bosom let me rise! 20 Let one wench cloy me with sweet love's delight, If one can do't; if not, two every night.

Though I am slender, I have store of pith, Nor want I strength, but weight, to press her with: Pleasure adds fuel to my l.u.s.tful fire, I pay them home with that they most desire: Oft have I spent the night in wantonness, And in the morn been lively ne'ertheless, He's happy who Love's mutual skirmish slays; And to the G.o.ds for that death Ovid prays. 30 Let soldiers[291] chase their enemies amain, And with their blood eternal honour gain, Let merchants seek wealth and[292] with perjured lips, Being wrecked, carouse the sea tired by their s.h.i.+ps; But when I die, would I might droop with doing, And in the midst thereof, set[293] my soul going, That at my funerals some may weeping cry, "Even as he led his life, so did he die."

FOOTNOTES:

[287] "Artibus in dubio est haec sit an illa prior." Dyce suggests that Marlowe read "Artubus."

[288] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[289] Eds. B, C, "vast deep sea."

[290] The original has "saevus" (for which Marlowe seems to have read "suavis").

[291] Isham copy and ed. A "souldiour ... his," and in the next line "his blood."

[292] So Cunningham for--