Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 12

_Fame_ hath resing'd her lasting Trump to thee, as to the worthyer, then thy fame display: Tell Venus thou art fairer farre then she, For thine own worth becomes thee best to say, Time will stand still ,the sunne in motion stay, Sirens be mute to heare thee speake of _Mirrha_, Thy voice, if heard in the low shades should be Would a third time fetch back _Euridice_.

Giue eare eternall wonder to a swaine, Twas writ in starres that I should see that face; And seeing loue, and in that loue be slaine, if beautie pittie not my wretched case.

Fortune and loue, the starres and powers diuine, Haue all betraide me to those eyes of thine.

O proue not then more crueller th[=e] they, Loues shaftes & fates wheeles, who hath power to stay.

Stay there (quoth she) giue backe those powers their owne or not impose their powerful force on me: Haue I the least word or the least glance thrown To make you attribute what's destinie Vnto my beautie: if loue and fate you wound, Throw vowes to th[=e], their altars are soone found.

Wouldst thou haue me pittie before they doe?

Loue's blinde, and fortun's deafe, so am I too.

I know not loue, sure tis a subtle thing, I, by these blushes that thy charmes haue raisd, T'allay more quiet' tell loues little king, I serue a Mistres he himselfe hath praisd Though he enuy, a rare and sacred floure, Whom he had will to wrong, but never power.

Now _Cupid_ hangs the head, and melts in shame, for she did vtter _Vestas_ holy name.

And as you see a woman teeming young, bearing the growing burthen of her wounb: Missing the dainty she hath lookt for long, falls straight in pastionate sicknes pale & dumb (for seeing she hath lost it) will not tell, for what she in this forced pastion fell.

So when his hopes were lost, he would not say, what was the cause, but this to her did laye.

Virgin beware that fire within thy brest, to _Vesta_ dedicate do not expire: as she must warie be that is the best to keepe it, it is knowne no lasting fier.

The fuell cold fruitelesse Virginitie, which if zeale blow not violent, wil so one die: This stricts a virgins life, and who but knowes, that loue and chast.i.tie, were euer foes.

And if ere loue a.s.saile those virgins forts, those Iuory bulwarkes that defend your heart: Though he be king of sportes he neuer sports, when as he wounds, but playes the Tirants part And so much more he wil tri[=u]ph oure thee, by how much thou contents his deitie: I know you to be chaste, but yet faire Mayd, if ere you loue youle finde what I haue sayd.

Sir (quoth she) when I loue you shall be mine: but know the time, when you shall claime me your's When as the fire extinct as _Vestaes_ shrine: and _Venus_ leaues to haunt the _Papheon_ bowres, When men are perfect friendes Tigers at peace, Discord in heauen, and powers diuine doe cease, when Fortune sleeps & the north star doth moue wh[=e] Turtles leaue to mourne their mates, ile loue.

Ere this was ended, _Orpheus_ song was done, And all the Virgins fell into their rankes, Each tooke their leaue of him, so did the sunne, who now was poasting to the westerne banckes and the wild beasts, who he had made more tame, seem'd to depart with reuerence at his name.

Each one gaue place to _Mirrha_ as their duetie, She being preferr'd in state, first as in beautie.

Now Cupid of her his last leaue doth take, so haue I seene a soule and body part: He begs a chaste kisse for her mothers sake, and vowes she shall be soueraigne of his heart.

But whether he disembling did it, or twa's fate, (As extream'st loue, turnes to the direst hate) Being repulst, but this kisse did inspire, her brest with an infernall and vnnam'd desire.

Night like a masque was entred heauens greate hall with thousand torches vshering the way: The complements of parting were done all, & homewards _Orpheus_ chaunteth many a lay; _Venus_ had sent her coach, drawn by a Doue, For little _Cupid_ the great G.o.d of loue.

& this hath sprung (as men haue sayen of yore) For _Mirrhas_ sake he vow'd to loue no more.

Blacke as my inck now must my verse commence You blus.h.i.+ng girles, and parents siluer-gray: As farre as Trace from vs, so farre from hence goe, that you may not heare me say, A daughter did with an adulterous head, And heauie l.u.s.t, presse downe her fathers bed, such Songs as these more fit the Tartars cares, had Orpheus sung it, beasts had pour'd out teares.

Vnhallowed l.u.s.t, for loues lies drownd in poison in what blacke ornament shall I attire thee?

Since I must write of thy so sad confusion, shall I say _Cupid_ with his brand did fire thee?

Accuse the Fates, or thee shall I accuse?

_Mirrha_ weepes yet, onely say this my Muse: wise destinie, true loue and mortall thought, would nere confirme this, the furies brought this.

She loues her Father, Daughter nere lou'd so, for as her mother lou'd so lou'd she him: Thirsting in fire those softer sweetes to know, Amidst whose waues, _Uenus_ in pride doth swim So young she was, yet that her father kist her.

Which she so duely lookes for he nere mist her, Yet could he haue conceiu'd as he did after those kisses rellish much vnlike a daughter.

Giue to her golde of Ophire Indian shels, Cloath her with Tirian purple skin of beast: Perfurme her waies with choice Arabian smells, Present her with the Phoenix in her nest, Delight her eare with song of poets rare, All these with _Cyneas_ might naught compare, "The comfort of the minde being tane away, "_Nectar_ not pleaseth, nor _Ambrosia_.

The feast of _Bacchus_ at this present time, Was by the giddie _Menades_ intended There _Mirrha_ daunc'd, and _Orpheus_ sung in rime crownd with green thirses, now yet y[=u]hes ended with praise to _Bacchus_ all depart with spright, vnto their feastes, feasts that deuoure the night, for loe, the stars, in trauaile in the skie, brought forth their brightnes to each waking eye.

High midnight came, and she to bedward hies, pretending rest, to beguile natures rest: Anon the gloomy gallerie she spies, toward her chamber, and she first that blest, Her care-fild eyes, her fathers picture was Arm'd but the face, although it dumbe, ala.s.se, she ask'd and if he call'd, seeing no reply, she answer'd for her father, and said I.

Daughter (quoth she) why art thou thus alone?

Let Doues so mourn girle, yt hath lost their mates Thine is to come, then prethee cease thy mone, Care shold not dwel with great & high estates.

Let her that needs and is not faire at all, Repine at fortune, loue shall be thy thrall, wing'd as he is, and armed thou shalt see, (I haue the power to giue) & giue him thee.

Father (quoth she) and spoke with smaller voice, Nature hath made me yours, yours I must be: You choose my choice, for in you lies my choice, Hereat shee starts as what not feares the guiltie: Thinking the shadowe knew her double sence, and blus.h.i.+ng, in strange feare departeth thence blaming her selfe, for vttering her blacke fault to him who armed stood gainst her a.s.sault.

Anon she spies many a youthfull Lord, In seuerall Tables, each in seuerall guise; Whose pictures they had sent with one accord, To shew their manly features to her eyes, Whose dumb'd perswasiue images were plac'd, To see if any in her lookes were grac'd: But heere in vaine, their faire a.s.sayes doe proue for had they spake they could not win her loue.

Ouer her Mothers shape a vaile she drew, and weeping, saide: may I nere see thee more: Poore abus'd image, doost not turne thy hew, to see so foule an obiect thee before?

Didst thou but know, what's sprung from out thy wombe, thy shap cold speak, whilst yt thy self stodst d[=u]be.

Art would claime Nature in thy heauie woes, thy shape haue limbs, thy limbs be stiff as those.

Anon she leapt on it with ardent heate, and full of teares, yet falles vppon her backe: Wis.h.i.+ng euen in that griefe the l.u.s.tfull feate, Were now perform'd (woemen oft longings lack down sunck the down, and with so deep impresse that had Hermaphroditus bin there he might ges Salmacis were aganie his prost.i.tute, or one more farte, then to denie her suite.

A strange conceite, had now possest hir braine, nie equall to her l.u.s.t, thought innocent: She gaue vp to desire and leapes amaine, From the bruisd bed, with bloodie fram'd int[=e]t To hang her selfe O, me moste wofull theame.

She now espide an hie and st.u.r.die beame: Many staue liu'd to an vnpittied death, who might haue dyed sometimes with famed breath.

Yet doth she thinke what terror death would be and on her heart, imprints his Character: Faine would she die, yet first would pleased be with d.a.m.ned l.u.s.t, which death could not deter O sinne (saies she) thou must be Natures slaue, In spight of Fate, goe to a pleasing graue.

When I haue sin'd, send _Ioue_ a thunder stroake and spare thy chosen tree, the harmlesse Oake.

She thinkes againe, and sees nor time nor place, to quench the thirstines of her parched blood: Time still ranne on, with an auerted face, and nothing but her pa.s.sions did her good.

This thought confoundes her, and she is resoul'd In deathes bleake azure armes to be inuoul'd.

Fates, you are women, saue your modesties: sheele kill her selfe, you neede but close her eies.

And like as when some suddaine extasie, seisth the nature of a sicklie man, When hee's discernd to swoune, straite by and by folke by his helpe confusedly haue ran, And seeking with their art to fetch him backe: so many throng, that he the ayre doth lacke, so _Mirrha's_ thoughts confusedly did stound her.

some adding c[=o]fort, whilst the rest confound her.

Like to a fountaines head, so shew'd her head, from whence since pa.s.sion first tooke hold of hir Two springs did run thorow each flowr-fil'd mead & at her lips staid, where shee wisht _Cynir_ Would so haue done: her face with teares run ore, Like _Hebaes_ Nectar shew'd, spilt on heauens flore.

or as the blomes in May the dewe drops beares, so _Mirrha's_ cheeks look'd sprinkl'd with her tears.

Her haire, that with such diligence was vsde To be kemb'd vp & did like clowdes appeare; Where many spangles, star-like were infus'd, To attend the l.u.s.tre of so bright a haire, Whose beames like bright _Arachnes_ web c[=o]posed Taught _Pallas_ a new enuie, now vnlosed, hiding her face, yet making it seeme rarer, as blazing Commets traine makes the star fairer.

Dispaire that teacheth holy ones to die, when as affliction ministers her part: Had breathing now in Mirrha, and well nie, Like Venus, made her graspe a flaming heart.

Cupid was borne at Etna, a hot sprite, Whose violence takes edge off from delight.

For men deepe louing, oft themselues so waste, that proffer'd dainties, they want power to taste.

Digresse no farther least thou proue obsceane, but tell by this how Nurse had broke the dore, And trembling both through age and feare, Forgot the naturall sence she had before Yet with her out-cries from the shades of death, cald Mirrhas spright, who with vnwilling breath re-enters flesh, scorning to giue it grace, with wonted beautie that adorn'd her face.

She tooke the haltar, and held vp her chin, chafing her temples with a violent heate: Making her soule returne with torments in, as it went out, being come vnto retrait, Nurse heau'd her trembling body on the bed, Where sinking as in graue, she seemed dead: Chast had my verse bin, blessed Mirrhas hap, if here my pen could write thy Epitaph.

When hauing gotten ope her heauie eyes, life-mocking death, with a fresh crimson hew, she thus bespake: if there be sorceries, Philters, inchauntments, any furie new That can inspire with irrelegious fire, The brest of mortall, that vntam'd desire Possesseth me, and all my bodies merrit, Shewes like a faire house, haunted with a spirit.

The foure and twentie windes are not so fierce, as what doth blow the fewel in my breast: Not the soft oyle, _Apollo_ did disperse, on _Phaitons_ brow, to keep his sun-beam'd crest From face of heauenly fires, could ought preuaile Gainst raging br[=a]ds which my poore heart a.s.saile scorch'd with materiall flames, wee soone do die and to purge sins, we imbrace purgatorie.

But this a heate that nor in life or death, can render any humor but dispaire: Nor can it with the short cut of my breath, Take hence my shame, that shall suruiue mine heire Nor can the act (after tis done) content But brings with it eternall punishment, lesseneth the pleasure of the world to come, giues the iudge leaue, & strikes the guiltie dumb.

The iealious nurse, did apprehend her straite, yet would extract the quintessence of all: And therefore childe (quoth she) vse no deceipt, but tel me freely whence these teares doe fall I am thy nurse, and from my aged brest Thou hadst thy second being, tell the rest.

I doe coniure thee, by these siluer haires, which are grown white, the sooner in their cares.

If any orped witch of _Thessalie_, haue powre vpon thee, gentle-girle relate: Or if thou haue prophan'd some dietie, wee shall some misticke fires propogate.

To attone with them or if with barbarous hand devoy'd of thy first chast.i.tie thou stand; Vnfold to me; griefes vttered finde redresse: fires vndescern'd burn the more pittilesse.