Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 4

Into a bus.h.i.+e caue hard by they got, Which thicke set trees did couer ore the top; In which the Carthage Queene _aeneas_ led, Who there deceiu'd her of her maidenhead.

A scarfe besides she made of cunning frame, Whereas _Alcides_ club and armour throwne, His lion skin put off, in maids attire He grad the wheele at _Omphales_ desire.

And all this night she banisht sleepe by worke, Who in her chamber priuily did lurke, Tempting her eye-lids to conspire with him, Who often times would winke and ope again: But now bright _Phoebus_ in his burning car Visits each mortall eye and dimmes each star, The nights sole watch-man, when she casts aside Her curious worke, and doth in haste prouide: For the faire fountaine which not far off stands, Whose purling noise vpon the golden sands Inuites each weary wandring pa.s.senger To see and taste those streames which are so cleare.

The louing banks like armes seeme to embrace it, Vpon the which there grew (the more to grace it) All sorts of coloured flowers, which seemd to looke And gla.s.se themselues within that siluer brooke.

Plentie of gra.s.se did euery where appeare, Nurst by the moisture of the running riuer, Which euer flouris.h.i.+ng still a beautious greene, Shewd like the palace of the Summers Queene: For neither frost nor cold did nip those flowers, Nor Sunburnt Autumne parch those leafie bowers: And as she goes to bathe, the tender gra.s.se Twineth about her, loth to let her pa.s.se: Here loue-strucke brambles plucke her by the gown, There roses kisse her as she walks along.

When being come vnto the riuer side, Looking about, for feare she should be spide, She stript her naked, standing on the brinke, When the deere water, who ten yeeres did thinke Till she was in, conspired with the banke, That downe it fell, and all vnwares she sanke Vp to the brests; then it inclos'd her round, Kisses each part, and from the purling ground The vnder-streames made haste to come and view Those beauties which no earth could euer shew.

The slimy fishes with their watry finnes Stand gazing on her, and close by her swimmes, And as she mou'd they mou'd, she needs no bait, For as when _Orpheus_ plaid, so do they wait.

And purple _t.i.tan_, whom some fogs did shrowd, Perforce brake forth from his imprisond cloud To gaze vpon her, whose reflecting beames When hot she felt, she leaues the watry streames; Which they perceiuing, lessened her strength, To make her stay; yet out she got at length: For which the waters are at enmitie With the Sunnes bright and glorious maiestie, And euery morning, ere _Apollo_ rise, They send blacke vapours vp to his darke eies, And maske his beautie, that he be not seene To hinder them of such a blessed blessing.

Now vp she gets, and homeward fast she goes, And by the way is musing of the ioyes To morrowes day should yeeld, and wisht it come; But her swift wishes ouergoe the Sunne, Which to her thinking, like a tired man Heauily loaden, vp a hill doth come.

Ay me (quoth she) had _Thetis_ _Daphnes_ grace, Then wouldst thou ierke thy horses, and apace Scowre through the azurd skie: but for she's old, Wanting white snowy armes for to enfold Thy golden body, therefore thou doest moue (As though new parted from some amorous loue) Not like a man trudging with more than haste, That he might clip his louers melting waste.

Were I the ruler of that fierie teame, Bloud would I fetch, and force them leape amaine Into the sea, and ouerspread the skie With pitchie clouds, their darkesome liuerie.

Yet home she hies in hope to finde the boy Which soone would turne those sorrowes into ioy: But he was absent; for much time he spent To make his horse fit for the Turnament, Which with his curtelax and drery lance He meant to holde her beautie to aduance: When missing him, she knew not how to spend The weary day, nor bring it to end; But calls her maid to beare her companie, And willed her to tell some historie Which she had read or heard, to mocke the time; Who with a sober smile did thus beginne: In Crete there dwelt a boy of so good grace, So wondrous beautie, such a louely face, An eye so liuely, such a cherrie lip, So white a belly and so strait a hip, So well shapt, faire, in euery part and lim, That Nature was in loue with making him.

This boy would oft resort vnto the Lawnes, To rouse the Satyres and the nimble fawnes, That he might chase them; but the fearefull deere Loue-taken by his presence, would not stirre: So he was faine (when he would haue some play) Himselfe to run, and then they scud away And follow him, and in the place he stands Come lightly tripping for to licke his hands: And if the lion chanst for to espie him, He would away, looke back, but not come nie him, Lest he should feare him, and complaine of Nature, That she had made him such a horrid creature, And wish himselfe to be the gentle hare, The timorous sheepe, or any beast that were, So he might gaze on him, and not beasts king, To be depriu'd of so endeerd a blessing.

And many times the wood nymph in a ring Would girt the boy about, and being hemd in, Ere he get out, a kisse to each must giue, Or being so inchaind, so must he liue.

As thus the boy did often times resort Vnto the woods to finde some friendly sport, One day amongst the rest he chanst to spie A virgin huntresse comming that way by, With light thin garments tuckt vp to the knees, Buskins about her legs, through which he sees A skin so white, that neuer did his eie Beholde so chaste, so pure, so sweet a die: Her vpper bodies when he did beholde, They seemd all glistring to be made of gold, But he perceiued, being somewhat nere, It was the beautie of her dangling haire, Which from her head hung downe vnto her waste, And such a bright and orient colour cast.

About her necke she ware a precious stone, A high pris'd, matchlesse, sparkling diamond, But poising it with her transpiercing eye, Shewd like a candle when the Sun is by.

The louely boy was taken with the hooke, The more he gazd, the more still was he strooke; A thousand amourous glances he doth throwe, And those recoild, seconds a thousands moe.

At last the boy being danted by her feature, Makes his speech prologue to so admir'd a creature: Celestiall G.o.ddesse, sprung from heauenly race, _Ioues_ sweetest offpring, shew me but what place Thou doest inhabit, where thy Temple stands, That I may offer with vnspotted hands On thy deere Altar; and vpon thy praise Sing glorious hymnes and sweet tun'd roundelays; But o most happy if I were thy Priest, To celebrate thy vigils and thy feast.

If it be _Paphos_ and thou loues sweet Queene, Rose cheekt _Adonis_ would that I had beene; Or if nights gouernesse, the pale-fac'd Moone, For thy sake would I were _Endymion_: But if no G.o.ddesse, yet of heauenly birth, And not disdainst poore men that liue on earth, If thou hast any Loue, would I were he, Or if thou wantst one, fix thy loue on me.

With that she blusht, and smiling lookt vpon him; But here she left: for _Philos_ comming in, Brake off her tale, and then they all deuise For state and show, how they may solemnise Their nuptials: each minute seemes a day, Till the slow houres had stolne the night away: But morne being come, theres none can tell the blis That they conceiu'd, without the like were his.

The golden Sun did cherish vp the day, And chas'd the foggie mists and slime away, And gentle _Zephyre_ with perfumed breath Stealing the sweets from off the flowry earth, Doth mildly breathe among the enamord trees, Kissing their leafie locks, which like still seas Waue vp and downe: and on the sprigs there stood The feathred Quiristers of the shadowy wood, Warbling forth layes of piercing melodie, Measuring the dances of the wind-wau'd tree.

Swift-winged _Mercurie_ hearing the report Of these same nuptials, trudg'd vnto the Court, And there vnto the bench of Deities Vnfolds this newes, who altogether rise, And on the battlements of the azure skie They seat themselues to see these two pa.s.se by.

Afore him went a troupe of gallant youth, Of the best feature and of perfect growth; He followed in a cloake of cloth of gold, Larded with pearles, with diamonds enrold; His vpper vestment was cut out in starres, (Such wore great _Mars_ when as he left the warres, And courted _Venus_) vnder which was drawne Cloth all of tyssue couered ore with lawne.

Next came the Bride, like to the Queene of light, Drawne by her dragons to adorne the night: When she is richly dect and all things on, Going to court her sweet _Endymion_, Attended by a s.h.i.+ning companie Of louely damsels, who together hie Vnto the Temple, where the sacred Priest In all his hallowed vestments being drest, With each consent, ioyning the louers hands, Knit them together in _Hymens_ sacred bands.

Pyramus and Thisbe,

LONDON,

Printed for _Roger Iackson_, and are to be sold at his shop neere Fleet Conduit. 1617.

TO THE WORs.h.i.+PFVLL his veric friend, D.B.H. Dvnstan Gale, wisheth all happinesse.

_The worthinesse (good Captaine) of your demerits, with the benefit of your friendly curtesies, incites mee to make profer vnto you of this my vnpolished Pamphlet, humbly intreating you to vouchsafe it acceptance, in that amongst many whom I haue knowne, I could finde none more meete for the patronizing it then your self. Which if it please you, I hope it wil be the better welcom to others for your sake: and if vnconstant fortune do but once more enable me for better, then shall you find a gratefull minde ready to requite you with a double guerdeon for your former kindnesse. Thus crauing pardon for this my rash attempt, I humbly take my leaue this_ 25. _of_ Nouember, 1596.

_Your Wors.h.i.+ps euer devoted_,

Dunstan Gale.

1

Neere to the place where _Nilus_ channels runne, There stood a town by loue long since vndone; For by a chance that hapned in the same, The town's forgot, & with the towne the name.

Within which towne (for then it was a towne) Dwelt two commanders of no small renowne, Daughter to one, was _Thisbe_ smooth as gla.s.se: Fairer then _Thisbe_ never woman was.

Sonne to the other, _Pyramus_ the bright: Yong _Thisbes_ play-feare, _Thisbe_ his delight: Both firme in loue, as constant and were any, Both crost in loue, as proud Loue crosseth many.

2

For in the pride of sommers parching heat, When children play and dally in the street, Yong _Thisbe_ seuerd from the common sort, As gentle nurture lothes each rusticke sport, Went to an arbour, arbours then were greene, Where all alone, for feare she should be seene, She gatherd violets and the Damaske rose, And made sweet nosegaies, from the which she chose, One of the sweetest. Sweet were all the rest, But that which pleasd her wanton eye the best.

And this (quoth she) shall be my true loues fauor: Her tender nonage did of true love sauor.

3

No sooner spake, but at her speech she blusht: For on the sudden _Pyramus_ in rusht, Hauing but newly cropt the spredding pine, And other branches that were greene and fine, Of which to pa.s.se his idle time away, The boy made wreaths and garlands that were gay, And spying _Thisbe_, _Thisbe_ made him start, And he her blush, so tender was her heart: She blusht, because another was so neere, He started, for to finde another there; Yet looking long, at last they knew each other, For why, they lov'd like sister and like brother.

4

When they left looking, for they lookt awhile, First _Pyramus_, last _Thisbe_ gan to smile, I was afraide, thus _Thisbe_ straight began: Faint (he replied) a maid and feare a man?

I feard (quoth she) but now my feare is past.

Then welcome me (quoth _Pyramus_) at last.

Welcome (quoth she) and then she kist his lips, And he from her, sweet _Nectar_ drops out sips: She pats his lips, he puls her milke white skin.

Thus children sport, and thus true loue begins: But they as children, not as louers gamed, For loue (alas) twixt them was neuer named.

5

Oft would he take her by the lillie hand, Cirkling her middle, straight as any wand, And cast her downe, but let her lye alone, For other pastime _Pyramus_ knew none.

Then vp she starts and takes him by the necke, And for that fall giues _Pyramus_ a checke: Yet at the length she chanst to cast him downe, Though on the green she neuer gaind a gowne, But rose againe, and hid her in the gra.s.se, That he might tract the place where _Thisbe_ was, And finding her (as children vse) imbrace her, For being children nothing could disgrace her.

6

But marke the issue, of their sportiue play, As this sweet couple in the coole shade lay, Faire _Venus_ posting whom to _Paphos_ Ile, Spied their sports, nor could she chuse but smile, Wherefore she straight vnyok't her siluer teame, And walkt on foot along the Chrystall streame, And enuying that these louers were so bold, VVith iealous eyes she did them both behold.

And as she lookt, casting her eye awry, It was her chance (vnhappy chance) to spy, VVhere squint-eyd _Cupid_ sate vpon his quiuer, Viewing his none-eyd body in the riuer.

7

Him straight she cald, being cald he made no stay, But to his mother tooke the neerest way.

Yet ere he came, she markt the tother two, Playing as oft tofore th'er wont to do: And then she sware, yong _Pyramus_ was faire, _Thisbe_ but browne, as common women are: Anon she wisht yong _Pyramus_ was neere, That she might bind loue in his golden haire, And loue him too, but that she cald to mind, That yong _Adonis_ proued so vnkinde.

But _Cupid_ came, his comming causd her hate them, And in a heat, proud _Venus_ gan to rate them.

8

Seest thou my sonne (quoth she) and then she fround, Those brattish elues, that dally on the ground?

They scorne my kingdome, and neglect my minde, Contemne me as inconstant as the winde.

Then shoot (quoth she) and strike them so in loue, As nought but death, their loue-dart may remoue.

At this he lookt, the boy was loth to shoot, Yet strucke them both so neere the hearts sweet root, As that he made them both at once to cry (Quoth he) I loue, for loue (quoth she) I die.