MIRRHA THE Mother of Adonis: OR, Lustes Prodegies.
By William Barksted.
Horrace.
Nansicetur enim pretium, nomenque Poetae.
Whereunto are added certaine Eglogs.
By L.M.
LONDON Printed by E. A. for Iohn Bache, and are to be sold at his shop in the Popes-head Palace, nere the Royall Exchange. 1607.
To his belooued; the Author.
PRaise where so er't be found, if it be due,
Shall no vaine cullour neede to set it foorth:
Why should I idely then extoll the worth,
Which heere (dere friend) I finde belong to you.
And if I er'd, full well the learned knewe,
How wide, amisse my marke I taken had,
Since they distinguish can the good from bad.
And through the varnish well discerne the hewe
Be glad therefore, this makes for you, and knowe,
When wiser Readers, heere shall fixe their sight,
For vertues sake, they will doe vertue right.
So shalt thou not (Friend) vnrewarded goe,
Then boldly on, good fortune to thy Muse,
Should all condemne, thou canst as well excuse.
I.W
To his Louing friend and Kinsman: W. B.
THamis nere heard a Song equall to this,
Although the Swan that ow'd this present qui [...]
sung to that Eccho, her owne Epitaph
As proude to die, and render vp her wing
To Venus Swan, who doth more pleasing sing,
Produce thy worke & tell the powerfull tale.
Of naked Cupid, and his mothers will
My selfe I doe confine from Helicon,
As loath to see the other Muses nine,
So imodestlie eye shoot, and gaze vppon
Their new borne enuie: this tenth Muse of thine,
Which in my selfe I doe in thee admire,
As Aesops Satire the refulgent fire,
Which may me burn, (I mean with amorous flame [...]
In reading, as the kissing that did him.
[Page]And happie Mirrha that he rips thy shame,
Since he so queintly doth expresse thy sin,
Many would write, but see mens workes so rar [...],
That of their owne they instantly dispaire.
Robert Glouer.
To his esteemed friend. W. B.
NOt for our friendship, or for hope of gaine
Doth my pen run so swiftly in thy praise:
Court-seruile flatterie I doe disdaine,
"Enuie like Treason, stil it selfe betraies.
This worke Detractions sting, doth disinherit:
He that giues thee all praise, giues but thy merrit.
Lewes Machin.
To his respected friend. W. B.
POet, nor art thou without due desert,
stil'd by that name:
Though folly smile, and enuy frowne,
to heare the same.
Yet those who read thy worke with due respect,
Will place thee with the worthiest of that sect.
Then let not ignorance, nor enuie mooue thee
Thou hast done well, they do not that reproue thee:
Yet some (true worth nere wants an opposite)
will Carpers be:
Grieue not at this, not vertues selfe can scape
their obloquie,
But giue the raynes vnto these baser spirits,
Whose Iudgements cannot paralell thy merrits,
Such fooles (to seeme iudicious) take in hand,
To censure what they doe not vnderstand.
[Page]Yet cannot they detract, or wrong thy worth,
maugre their spight:
For thou doost chaunt incestuous Myrrha forth,
with such delight,
And with such gouldē phrase gild' store her crime
That what's moste diabolicall, seemes deuine.
and who so but begins the same to reade
Each powerfull line, attracts him to proceede.
Then since he best deserues the Palme to weare,
Who wins the same:
Doe thou alone inioy those sweets, which beare
thy Mirrhas name.
And euer weare in memorie of her,
an anademe of odoriferous Mirrhe,
and let Apollo, thinke it no dispraise,
To weare thy Mirrhe, & ioyne it with his bayes
William Bagnall.
MIRRHA, The Mother of Adonis.
I Sing the ruine of a beautious Maide,
White as my paper, or loues fairest Doue.
shine bright Apollo, Muse be not affraide,
Although thou chauntest of vnnaturall loue.
Great is my quill, to bring foorth such a birth,
as shall abash the Virgins of our earth.
smoake Goulden censors vpon Paphos shrine,
drinke deep Lenae [...]s to this worke of mine.
Cupid to Thracia went to heare a Song
of Orpheus, to whome euen Tygers came,
And left their sauage Nature, if there long
they did with hi [...] sweet Melodie remaine.
Wolues lost their preyes, and by signes praid hi [...] [...]in [...]
Beasts left the Lyon, and chose him their King.
Cecropian Apes did on his musicke waite,
Yet of them all, not one could immitate.
Tis saide when Orpheus dyed, he did descend
To the infernall, so the Furies boast:
Where now they giue him leaue his eies to bend
without all feare, on her whome he once lost,
By a regardant looke, but tis not so:
Ioue not reseru'd such musicke for belowe,
But placed him amongst celestiall stars,
To keep the Scorpion, Lyon, Beare from Iars
For euer since the fall of Phaeton,
that then displaced, them they were at strife
For their degrees, till his alluring Tone.
who though in death hath the office of his life.
Though more diuinely: and where he attracts,
More glorious bodies to admire his actes.
Faire stranger shape of creature, and of beast,
With his concordant tunes, plac'd them in rest.
The Dittie was (and Cupid lent an eare)
Vpon the death of his Euridice:
Which still he sung, as if his former feare,
Of loosing her was now, or else would be.
The Eccho beate the noyse vp to the Spheares,
And to his passionate song, Gods bent their eares.
It was a signe, he was new come from hell,
Their tunes so sad, he immitates so well.
Such passion it did strike vpon the earth,
that Daphnes roote groan'd for Apollo's wrong:
Hermophrodite wept s [...]ewers and wisht his birth
had neuer bin, or that he more had clung
To Salmacis, and Clitie grieued in vainet
Leueothoes wrong, the occasion of her baine,
my wilful eie (this should the burthen be)
Hath rob'd me of, twice slaine Euridice.
Cicnus stil proud though he confuted be,
for Phaetons losse, would needs afresh complain [...]
Thinking therewith to singe as sweet as he,
but pittiles he sung and dyed in vaine.
Eccho was pleas'd with voice resounding brim
as proud to loose her shape to answer him.
Hether resorted more then wel could heare,
but on my Muse, & speake what chansed there
Amongst the rest of Vesta-vowed Girles,
came [...]irrha (whose thoughts no guile then knew
Like a bright diamond circled with pearls,
whose radiant eye delt lustre to the hew
Of all the dames: whose face so farre aboue
though the rest (beautious all) vnwounded made loue, loue
for neuer since Spiches was made a star
did he see nature excel art so far.
He chāg'd his shape, his wings he oft hath torne,
and like a hunter to this nimph he came:
With gold tipt Iauelin and a bugle Horne,
such as they beare to make the Lyon tame:
First did he kisse hir hand, which then did melt
with loue's impression, Cupid the like felt:
Stroke dumbe, he stood in an vnwonted guise,
such magicke beawtie carries in her eies.
At length (quoth he) should I not say I loue,
I should both Cupid and his Mother wrong:
By thee faire Maid a power farre aboue,
My heart is the true index of my [...]ongue.
And by my naked wordes you may discouer,
I am not traded like a common Louer.
Rare obiects, rare amazements bred, tis true:
And their effects are tryed in me by you.
My barren braine, can blesse me with no store
Of able Epithits, so what praise I giue
Makes not you ritcher though it makes me poore [...]
therefore in vaine against the streame I striue,
Th'ore curious painter, meaning to excell,
Oft marres the worke, the which before was well,
And he shall dazeled be, and tyred soone,
That leuelleth his shafts to hit the Moone.
With this, she turnd her blushing head aside,
& vail'd her face with lawne, not halfe so white
That euen the blending roses were espyed
despight the cloudes, that hid them in despight
[...]he threw her thin breath through the lawne, and said
Leaue gentle youth, do not thus snare a maid
I came to Orpheus Song, good then forbeare,
It is his tune, not yours can charme mine eare.
Let Orpheus learne (quoth he) of thee to sing,
Bid him charme men Mirrha as thou canst doe:
Let him tame Man, that is the Lyons King,
And lay him prostrate at his feete belowe,
As thou canst doe: nor Orpheus nor the spheares
Haue Tones like thee, to rauish mortall eares.
Yea, were this Thracian Harper Iudge to tell,
(As thee) hee'd sweare he sung not halfe so wel.
Nor dying Swans, nor Phebus when he loue's,
equals thy voice (though he in musicke courts)
and as the God whose voice the firm earth moues
making the terrors of the great, hi [...] sports,
Whose first word strooke into the Chaos light:
so if that contrary thou take delight,
at thy word, darknes would or'e-cloude the ayr [...]
and the fayrest day giue place to thee more faire
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 b [...]
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 be traide me to those eyes of thine.
O proue not then more crueller thē 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 thē, 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 him [...]elfe hath praisd
Though he enuy, a rare and sacred floure,
Whom he had will to wrong, but neuer 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 wo [...]b:
Missing the dainty she hath lookt for long,
falls straight in passionate sicknes pale & dumb
(for seeing she hath lost it) will not tell,
for what she in this forced passion 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 chastitie, were euer foes.
And if ere loue assaile 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 triūph 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
whē 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 bancke▪
and the wild beasts, whō 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 vow [...]s 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 alay;
Venus had sent her coach, drawn by a Doue,
For little Cupid the great God 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 blushing 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 lust, 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 lust, 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, Venus 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:
Perfume 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 Orpheu [...] sung in rim [...]
crownd with green thirses, now ye [...] yūhes 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 ey [...]
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 farhers picture was
Arm'd but the face, although it dumbe, alasse,
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 blushing, in strange feare departeth thence.
blaming her selfe, for vttering her blacke fault
to him who armed stood gainst her assault.
Anon she spies many a you [...]hfull 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 assayes 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 yu thy self stodst dūbe
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:
Wishing euen in that griefe the lustfull feate,
Were now pe [...]form'd (woemen oft longings lack
[...]own sunck the down, and with so deep impresse
[...]hat had Hermaphroditus bin there he might ges
Salmacis were aganie his prostitute,
or one more farre, then to denie her suite.
A strange conceite, had now possest hir braine,
nie equall to her lust, thought innocent:
She gaue vp to desire, and leapes amaine,
From the bruisd bed, with bloodie fram'd intēt
To hang her selfe O, me moste wofull theame.
She now espide an hie and sturdie 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 damned lust, 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 passions 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
[...]nd 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 [...]elpe confusedly haue ran,
[...]nd seeking with their art to fetch him backe:
To many throng, that he the ayre doth lacke,
[...]o Mirrha's thoughts confusedly did stound her,
some adding cōfort, whilst the rest confound her
[...]ike to a fountaines head, so shew'd her head,
from whence since passion first tooke hold of hir
[...]wo 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,
[...]ike Hebaes Nectar shew'd, spilt on heauens flore.
[...]or as the blomes in May the dewe drops beares,
[...] 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 lustre of so bright [...]haire,
Whose beames like bright Arachnes web cōpos [...]
Taught Pallas a new enuie, now vnlosed,
hiding her face, yet making it seeme rarer,
as blazing Commets traine makes the star faire [...]
Dispaire that teacherh 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 tast [...]
Digresse no farthe [...] 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,
[...]ald Mirrhas spright, who with vnwilling breath
re-enters flesh, scorning to giue it grace,
with wonted beautie that adorn'd her face.
[...]he tooke the haltar, and held vp her chin,
chasing 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 be spake: if there be sorceries,
Philters, inchauntments, any furi [...] 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, Appollo did disperse,
on Phaitons brow, to keep his sun-beam'd [...]
From face of heauenly fires, could ought preuai [...]
Gainst raging brāds which my poore heart [...]
scorch'd with materiall flames, wee soone do [...]
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 die [...],
wee shall some misticke fires propogate.
To attone with them or if with barbarous hand
devoy'd of thy first chastitie thou stand;
Vnfold to me griefes vttered finde redresse:
fires vndescern'd burn the more pittilesse.
Or if the sunne of bewtie shoote at thee
his fiery shafts, O tell me and the rather,
Because thy confidence shal answer'd be,
With this my childe Ile hide it from thy father
As doth a dying man hold fast what so he grasp
so she her feruent armes bout her Nurse claspe
and nuzzels once more twixt those dugs her fa [...]
whilst ore those Ilands flow salt teares apace▪
That word of father was like Persey's shield,
to make the poore maid stone, now nurse doth threat
Vnlesse she will in gentle manner yeeld,
she would to morrow shew how in a heat
She would haue made away her desperate life,
and she must tell the man that forc'd that strife
within her brest through feare she thus did frame
and made her toung the trumpet of her shame.
Her voyce halfe stopt with sighes (O fatal voice)
pronounc'd these words, yet did the accēts faile:
How blessed is my mother in her choise,
How fully she with nature did preuaile.
This said, her blushing face sinkes in her shroud
like Cinthia muffel'd in an enuious cloud.
When loe, the dying taper in his toombe,
gaue darknes to it selfe and to the roome.
Now had she time to waile, and well she might,
Guiltie of sorrow, there might you haue seene:
As glow wormes adde a tincture [...] the night,
Glimmering in pallid fire, vppon some greene,
mixt with the dew, so did her eyes appeare,
Each goulden glance ioyn'd with a dewy teare,
oft shut her eyes, like starres that portend ill,
with bloody deluge, they their orbes did fill.
The Nurse amated with the latter wordes,
whose aged haires stood vp like siluer wire:
Knew speech was vaine, where will the scope affords
& whi [...]pering softly, saies childe thy desire
Ile put into thy armes, sleepe, seize thy head,
Tis now nights noone, all but the stars seem dead,
Our vanities like fire-works will ascend,
Vntil they breake, vncertaine where to end,
Neuer did mortall with a vicious thought,
wish to bring vices Embrion to aforme:
But still the prince of darknesse to them brought
occasions fore-locke, which they [...]ff haue torne.
Sin like a Cedar shadowes all our good:
Whilst vertues bounded like a narrow flood.
As see now, how the occasion of misfortune;
Mirrha's much abus'd-mother did importune.
Now came the time, of Ceres sacred rite,
and Misteries, when all wiues young and olde
Cloathed in vailes, all of transparent white,
Kneele to her, and to the Attick priest vnfolde,
The firstlings of the fiel'd wreath'd gilded corne,
Chaplets of dill, pluckt in a blushing morne,
And many such, nor may they husbands see,
In nine daies, till they end their misterie.
Now nurse was double diligent, watching her time
and told old Cyniras a lonely maide
Sigh'd for him: and still with cupps of wine
betwixt each word his pallat she assaide.
Heated with wines, he had the Nurse repaide,
and bring to him the Maide that was so faire.
Bacchus & Venus, Wine and frolicke lust,
are sworne to blood, and keepe togither must.
Mirrha no sooner heard this glad reply,
but as a poore bird long time in a snare,
Ready for fammine and her woe to die,
whom an vnskilful fouler vnaware
hath guiuen freedome, to her foode doth hast,
so Mirrha thought each houre an age was past:
In her strict torment; but being scapt away,
her woes forgot, she thinkes vppon her prey.
And as she did ascend those staires to lust,
in the midway, she heard her father speake:
And n [...]re lay partridge closer to the dust,
at sound o' the Faulccons bell, then she too weak
To encounter or resist: and feares are such,
in loue by loue, that they enccrease loue much.
Loue like to Monarkes, hath his state hie reared
who euer wil be lou'd, where they are feared.
To a hundred seueral passions she doth yeeld,
and as we see in Autumne of the yere
Some gallant oake stand ready to be feld,
vppon whose ribs a hundred wounds appeare
Forc'd by the brawnie armes of Hynds vnlithe,
who workes a passage to the weeping pith:
Vncertaine (though wind shaken) where to fall:
so stood her mynd doutful of rest at al.
Nurse opes the doore, and brings her to the be [...]
the darkenesse of the night abated shame:
And leaues her that must leaue her maiden head
to the begetter of his owne defame,
With faultring hams hauing got twixt the sheetes▪
In fearefull lust this Prodegiae meetes,
He begs a kisse, then blusht she as he spake it,
yet he must giue it, shee wants power to take it.
Now trembling lay she by her fathers side,
like silly doue within the Eagles gripe:
Nor doth she vse soft shrikes as doth a bride,
(I meane a maide) when as the fruite so ripe
Of maiden-head, is forced from their wombe,
Her fathers armes to her was as a tombe.
she dead in pleasure, durst not shew her voice,
least Cyniras should know this faire foule choic [...]
But when that Cupid once had whetted her,
she twines her lilly stalks about his necke:
So clings young Iuie bout the aged oake there,
Venus smil [...], but frowning Iuno checks.
Their stolne delight, no nuptiall tapers shone,
No Virgin belt vntyed, but all vndone,
the Athenian God, kindled no hallowed fires,
darke was the night, suiting to their desires.
The morrow came, toyled with wakes and lust,
she leaues her father, when as the rising Sun
Couering the easterne Pines and mountaine dust,
spyed Mirrha from her couch of sin to runne.
Then blusht he first, and backward would ha fled
And euer since in's rising hee's still red,
Nere Turkas was at sicke blood more estrang'd,
then Mirrha when her chastitie was chang'd.
Oft would she leane against her fathers knees,
& tie his garter in a true loue's knot:
And then vndoo't againe, as to shew she
were vndone, yet he conceiu'd it not▪
And woman like that, keep not secrets long,
she shewd her loue in dūb shewes with out tung,
her lust she knew (yet hardly it concealde)
like Fayries Treasur's vanish'd if reueal'd.
A third night came, darker then shores belowe,
when Cyniras (father of feareful lust)
Willing to see the soule that did bestowe
So many pleasures on him (Ioue is iust)
Did reach a [...]ap [...], whose confusiue light,
Strucke like a blasting at that horrid sight,
The light f [...]ll from him loathing his defame,
things senceles oft are mo [...]'d, whē men not shame
At length with bloodie eye fixed on her,
out of an Iuorie scabberd hanging by:
He drew a monumental Semiter,
[...]hinking with death that both their [...]
But night that oft befriended her with sinne,
[...]n her blacke wombe too, did her freedome [...] ▪
For through the darke she slipt, and [...]
to mourne his Fa [...]e, not execute his [...].
Sped with her lust, and flying thence apace,
in feares and trembling, feare doth giue vs eies:
For saftie to the Gods, she lifts her face,
& her claspt hands to what she now not see's,
[...]oues browe was darke, Boetes had amaine
Driuen his Oxen to the lower plaine.
Phebae fled heauen, her face no tincture beares,
Because shee saw a deed, worthie her teares.
The morning came, where yet the fatall print
of Mirrha lay vpon the pillow: Cynix he
Clog'd with distresse, a fathers cursse did hint,
vpon that place of foule inchastiti [...],
the sight of what we loath, breedes loathing more
and vertue once renounc'd ingenders store,
Leaue we him touz'd in care, for worldly wee,
loue to leaue great men in their miserie.
Seauen winters nights, she fled before the Moone
(who knew the vnchaste act she had inforc'd)
Through Arabie, in feare she posteth soone,
To odorous Panchaia, whose confines diuorc'd
Her fathers land▪ here grew all choicest fumes:
That to Ioues temples often men presumes:
and on his altars them accumulate,
and how they first sprung, here thereof the Fate.
Hebae now banish'd from th' A [...]therian boule
vppon a feast day mongst the Gods aboue,
Where twas made lawfull, all without controule,
might freely drink it chanc'd the Queen of loue
Whether she long'd, or enuied Hebaes starre,
(Women are enuious, where they long for nectar)
forc'd her to skinke so much, the iuice ran ore,
so that Ioues drinke washt the defiled flore.
With this he storm'd, that's Priests from altars flie
streight banish'd Hebae & the world did thinke
To a second Chaos they should turned be,
the clouds for feare wept ou [...] th' immortal drinke
and on Panchaia there this Nectar f [...]ll,
Made rich th' adiacent lands with odorous smell,
and such rare spices to the shoares are giuen,
as Ioue would thinke no Nectar were in heauen.
There was a Satire rough and barbarous,
pleasing his pallat at a trembling spring:
Vnder a Beech with bowes frondiferous,
though he had seene a nimph or rarer thing
Then flesh and blood for in the calmed streame▪
He saw her eyes like stars, whose raies did gleam [...]
Boue Phoebus farre, and so amazed stood,
as if she had bin Goddesse of that flood▪
and as you see a man that hath bin long
Possessed with a furie of the shades:
after some prayers and many a sacred song,
with blessed signes, the euill spirit vades,
so fell his rudenesse from him, and her shine,
Made all his earthie parts pure and diuine.
O potent loue, great is thy power be falne,
That makes the wise mad, & the mad man calme
Thus he begins, fairer then Venus farre,
If Venus be, or if she be tis thee:
Louelie as Lillies, brighter then the starre
that is to earth the mornings Mercurie:
Softer then Roses, sweeter breath'd then they,
blush't boue Aurora, better cloath'd then May.
lipt like a cherrie, but of rarer taste,
Deuine as Dian, and as fully chaste.
Pardon my rude tongue, if I chance to erre,
as Hermes selfe might erre being the God
of Eloquence: for your bright eye doth beare
all earthly blessings in a faire abode,
Excuse me if I trip, I meane your weale,
Error's no error, where tis done with zeale.
Loue like materiall fires is made to flame:
When tis supprest▪ with fanning Fires first came
With this, the Maid (so took) hung down her head
wondring that such a shape had such a tongue:
able to steale her loue, had she not fled,
and from his ardent gripes, her body wrung.
Flying like Phebae after strucken deere:
and as he follow'd she fled more for feare.
Z [...]phire came foorth, to dally with her haire,
while the poore Satire cried stay maide so faire
But he on sudden like a subtill Snake,
rould in a heape, shootes foorth himself at lēgth:
and to his vigorous armes greedie doth take,
his yeilding prey, won with his words not strēgth
To be a woman, is by nature giuen,
But to be constant, is a star, which heauen
Hath seald on their sex forehead as a signe,
That constancie in women is diuine.
Thou didst deceiue me Mirrha, when I saide,
thou flew'st for feare, thou gau'st me cause to fear
and I might iustlie haue this gainst thee laide,
thou wents [...] t'auide by pathes that were so nere
Who begin, ill most often end in ill,
and she that doth her first pure youth so spill
In lawles lust though made a wife to one,
Remaines like wax for each impression.
But see the goodnesse of the Deities,
who still with grace preuents our ill presage,
This groue was hallow'd to no Hiadres,
but chast Diana, who with violent rage
Discending from her towre of Christalline,
To keepe the place still sacred and diuine:
against her rites, brought with her thereupon
white Poplar from the banckes of Acheron:
Then wi [...]h a charme, that did her face eclips,
And made her crescent quak, the iuice she powers
Vpon the Satirs face, and prophane lipps,
which quickly ouer all his body showers,
Her borrow'd power of art being finished:
(Deriued from Phoebus as her light) she saide,
Nine-times the holy time, which spok will clere,
all prophane matter, and this spake she there.
Sleepe Poplar sleepe, that was the Satirs name,
who had bin long a king within these woods,
Since thou my sacred Groue, gan to prophane:
a sleepe seize on thee, still as stigian floods,
by Stix I vow the partiall destenies,
Did they conspire, shold nere vnclaspe thine eies.
haning thus said, the Satire vanisht so,
as mens prospect that from a mirrour goe.
I thinke (quoth she) accursed is this place,
for heere the man, for whome I sorrow now,
Heedelesse Acteon with immodest face,
saw all our naked and did ouer-vewe:
As men rich iuells doe, thinking there lies
yet some rare vertue hidden from their eyes:
And euen there quoth shee & then did point,
reuen'gd, I saw his hounds teare ioint from ioint.
But since saies she, thou as a King didst reigne,
and art a Trophey too of Dians power:
Thus much the Goddesse of the floods doth deign wood
to change thy shape, into a vertick flower.
Then thrice three words, thrice striking charmed
The ground did crannie, and there out of hand,
appeared greene Poplar, younger then before,
which bow'd the head & dyan did adore.
The pa [...]efac'd Mirrha sat like guiltie spright,
fore the infernall iudge, yet did not see
Diana great, for dull are mortalls sight,
(and all inuisible is chastitie)
But heard a voice as she was vanishing,
saying defild maide, doost wonder at this thing▪
O Mirrha [...] my crescents beautie change,
thou shalt be turn'd into a shape as strange.
With this the verdant new sprung Poplar plant
(moou'd with the winde) seemd to bow down the head
as cheering Mirrha, who did comfort want
being amaz'd at what Diana saide,
Hauing recouer'd sence, she flies the place,
For feare of Phebaes comming to the chace:
to Saba land she hies, where all affraide,
my muse shall sing the downfall of the Maide.
Then first hung downe Poplar his heauie braine,
for Mirrha's losse, whose loue brought him that blew
[...]nd for he once in woods a King did raigne,
a crowne hee still wear [...]s, richly wrought with
[...]nd yellow eke, as figures both of loue,
Which Venus dropt downe him from aboue.
Bacchus doth loue him, for in feasts of wine,
[...]he weares a poplar Garland mixt with vine.
The leaden God of sleepe, on his iuice feede,
the vertues of him, sundry doe declare [...]
His suddain taste a heauinesse doth breede,
and drownes in rest, sences opprest with care,
[...]n places farre remote, he loues to growe,
[...]nd eke by riuers that runne thicke and slowe,
where drowsilie this woodish demie God,
with euerie gale of winde his head doth nod.
Now to proceede after a small repose,
that the accursed seede gan swell her wombe,
whē her drie brain, no more teares could expose
she weayting for a sad and heauie dombe.
For often men offending, still doe feare,
Though Ioue be farre off, yet his iudgements ner [...]
downe would she sit, and so vnfolde her moane [...]
that Eccho sight hirs and forgot her owne
Distressed twixt the teadiousnesse of life,
and trembling feare of death, she thus began:
For when we cease to be the crimes are rife,
which youth committed, and before vs then.
For aged memorie doth clasp't containe,
Those shapes of sin, which hot blood held as vai [...]
O cursed Fates quoth she▪ that brought to passe [...]
this prodegie twixt me and Cyniras.
O leaue to leape for ioy, thou prettie childe,
to Heare of Cyniras, or ile leaue rather:
To speake of him, whose bed I haue defilde,
& made him proue thy Grandsire & thy father
Was [...] predestin'd to select no other,
But fated for the sister and the Mother.
of thee my babe, heauen here hath beene sinister
the childe shall call his grandsire, son his mother sister
Oft doe two Roses grow out from one stem,
and one of them is full blowne fore the other,
So fares it now with thee my virgin iem,
whome nature would call sonne but shame saies brother
Shall I not blush when thou art ripe, to gather
The circumstances of who was thy Father,
yes sure I shall, yet shame forgets all shame,
Ile charge thy father of a heauenly name.
But oh, I feare me least some Prodegie,
the heauens agree, that I to light should bring:
to fright ee'n the yron age, that chastitie
might take example by my suffering.
That I a monster-mother should be made,
If soe, O ouer equall Gods, let Mirrha fade
into some shape, worthy your high deuice,
Pitty to me, would make Ioue seeme vnwise.
Alter O Gods, death that is due to birth,
nor let the dead repine, that I should see
Eliziums blest shades, nor the men of earth
annoided be with my impuritie,
Let them enioy the fieldes, and learned Songes,
Of hye brow'd Orphens, let the v [...]flesht thronges
that haue deseru'd this, and much more be glad,
my starres, my double life, and fate, are sad.
You wearyed race of Danans vnblest girles,
In vaine leaue off your vnwomb'd tubs to fill,
& with your teares that staynd ye Indyan pearles,
Weepe out or Mirrha, and ere night you will
at my sad story orebrim with your teares,
Your whirle-poole vessells, which so many yeres
return'd no interest, if you well deplore,
you'le drowne in teares, or labour so no more.
Cōclude my fate, quicke you eternall counsell▪
or else I feare the nere-erturned dead
Clad in the fearefull shapes of night and hell,
will rise before the generall day be spred;
and hurrie me in flesh to Acheron,
To taste hels torture both in soule and bone:
Then blast me thunderer in righteous ire,
and I like Semele wil meete thy fire.
The Gods to her last wish was tractable.
her tongue percullist twice was as she spake:
aire was her voice, and Mirrha now notable,
to thanke the Gods, her ioynts in s [...]nder brake.
Leaues were her locks, of golden haire bereau'd,
her armes long boughes, deem & be not deceiu'd
tree gan she be, yet twixt her thing so staid,
you could not say she was or tree or maide.
First grew her hayre vp like the Summer Corne,
or as a blazing starre, whose streames rise vpward
& being changd, fell leaues, that vp were borne,
by the rude windes, yet had you but haue heard
You'd sware, a sigh for Mirrha's transmigration
Had beene decreed by all the windie nation.
and euerie Autume, since a thing moste rare,
The falling leaues, resemble Mirrha's haire.
To barke her yuorie skin polisht congeald,
each blew-rig'd current into melting sap,
Her nailes to bolssome faire, & what reueal'd
with accents sad, the babe yet in her lap.
Her fingers twigs, her bright eyes turn'd to gum,
Buried on earth, and her owne selfe the toombe.
her sences gone, yet this sence did she win,
to aye relent, the horror of her sinne.
For euen as from a guilty man, that's pleading for remorse
teares follow teares, as hoping to preualie,
So from this tree, (though now a sencelesse course)
flowe pretious teares, as seemes she doth bewaile
In death, with euer liuing teares, the act fore-done
These Pius drops, made densiue by the sunne,
are kept for holy vses, and the Mir,
That so distilles, doth beare the name of her.
The misbegotten babie, swels the tree,
and loathing the defiled wombe sought vent:
Th [...]se panges that mothers haue felt shee,
and solemne sighes had issue, as they▪d rent,
and spoile the shape, she newly had assum'd,
But wordes within the close bark were inhumbd
Yet wept it out, as it to water would,
Or seem'd it mockt Pactolus waues of golde.
Till chast Lucina, whome the Poets giue,
The mid-wiues power in producing creatures,
by whose change we last die, and first doe liue,
(be they not violent each) she that giues features
Forme or takes away, makes foule or faire,
Di [...]cending from her Spheare next to our ayre:
with arm [...]s yspred, vppon the melting mir,
brought diuine comfort downe from heauē with her
Few wordes she spake, but euery sillable,
of power to comfort the afflicted Ghostes:
Or any other sencelesse thing make able,
doe be [...]ter deedes then those Alcides boastes,
the tree streight craynes, & springs forth the child
who the first minut, though his countenance smild
cryed out a maine, our first propheticke breath,
showes our first houre, is mother to our death.
The water Nymphes then caught him tenderly,
who laid him streight on the enameled bank [...]s,
and bath'd him with his mothers teares, whereby
they made him fairer, and in merry prankes
The Ladies call a conuocation there,
Some praise his nose, his lips▪ his eye, his eare,
Some his streight fingers, whilst a fist doth sweare
his verry breath yet smelleth of the mirre.
Another wishes, oh for such a face!
Nor can I blame her though she did wish so:
For sure, were I a wench, t'had bin my case,
for nature heere, made both her ioy and woe,
And spight that (but herself) commendeth none,
Of force must say, this was a rarer one
Then either nature did, or ere shall make,
whose life holdes vp her age, whose deathe's her wrack
Eyes like two stars falne from their proper sphears
as if they scorn'd the beaten pathes of heauen:
Or enuying of beautie of the beares,
showne firmer heere, and brighter then the seauē
Such was he as was Cupid wont to be
In pictures lim'd, and that they may agree,
furnish the babe with winges and quiuer light,
or from loues God, take wings, and quier quite.
Nought may compare with Time in his swift race
the babe ere while feeles now youths hot alarms
And as in yeares, so beautious grew his face,
that he is fit againe for Ladies armes:
Nor Cupid now could wound more dames thē he
That Venus who Captiues all, is not free
From her own power, she loue's Adonis milde,
That Mars doth storm, & wish he were no childe
Nor Paphos, Amathus nor fishie Guide,
delights she now to haunt, nor Etna now
Burnes more then her, she roans the wood so wide
after her game, that to his game doth bow.
And will not heare or see, for eies and eares,
If they her heare or see, their vse forbeares
Yet she persues, and leaues her power vn euen
on heauen & earth, she loues him more thē heauē
Oft would she say, and bathe those words in tears
oh thou faire boy wold God thou loudst like me
but sure thou art not flesh, it well appeares,
thou we [...] the stubborne issue of [...],
So hard thou art, then she a sigh would fet,
and wish that Vulcan had not made his net,
For boy sterous Mars, shee'd fayner ha' bin sped
with this choice floure, claspt in her yron bed.
Shee'd nere haue blusht, thē she does make a vow
though al the Gods of both worlds had thē seen
She raveth that she euer lou'd til now,
that she might worthily ha bin loues Queene.
wel, wel (quoth she) thou hast reueng'd the spight
which from my accurst Sons bow did fowly light
On thy faire Mother, O immortall boy,
Though thou be faire, tis I that should be coy.
But stay my Muse in thine owne confines keepe,
& wage not warre with so deere lou'd a neighbor
But hauing sung thy day song, rest & fleepe
preserue thy small fame and his greater fauor:
His song was worthie merrit (Shakspeare hee)
sung the faire blossome, thou the withered tree
Laurell is due to him, his art and wit
hath purchast it, Cypres thy brow will fit.
FINIS.
THREE Eglogs, The first is of Menalcas and Daphnis: The other two is of Apollo and Hyacinth.
By Lewes Machin.
MENALCAS Daphnis.
IN Summer time, before the Sunne did rise,
Dull la [...]ie sleepe, had quite forsooke mine eyes
Then vp I start my selfe, I did array,
And walkt the fieldes before the breake of day,
Then all the world, was quiet, still and husht:
Aurora straite appeares, but O she blusht
To see her goulden haires in flames hang downe,
Whose shining brightnesse lasc'd her skye gown
Then Phebus from the east mounted the skie,
whose burning lusture puts Aurora by.
When he first rises, then we may beholde,
His shining face, drawne in a Coach of golde.
I laide me downe, vpon the dewie gra [...]e,
Shaded with trees to view all those that passe,
When loe I espied a paire comming that way,
And downe they sat them meaning there to stay.
Then on my brest I crept till I came nere e'm,
Louers speake softly, (yet I chaunc'd to heare 'em
[Page]A shepheard one was, a faire Nimph the other,
With face as beautifull as Cupids Mother,
Two roses in her cheekes, yellowe her ha [...]e,
Nature had done them right, a well shap't paire,
To me they did appeare: then still I sat,
and lent mine [...]are vnto their amarous chat,
O tell me deare, what may the reason bee,
That thou of late hast left thy flocke and mee?
Once thou didst loue me, and I loue thee still,
O doe not thou repay my good with [...]ll.
But women like to fortune still are fickle,
Their constancie like glasse, hollow and brittle.
Yet some there are on this earth to be found,
Whose faith was neuer shaken but still sound,
and one amongst those few, I hope thou art,
Whose kinde reply can heale my wounded heart
Then she with modest grace to him replide,
Thy suite faire Shepheard I nere yet denide.
Thy long wisht presence is as deare to me,
as ere my smiles haue bin a ioy to thee.
No coy disdaine, nor yet no proud ambition,
Hath kept me from thee but to scape suspition.
Did I absent my selfe now being alone?
Lets leaue all greefes, and cast away all moane.
Then did the sunne cast glances at her eies,
Supposing them two starres falne from the skies:
She winckt, and durst not looke on Phebus raies,
mean while the shepheard wc her whit hād plaies
[Page]But see what chanc'd, as hee had caught his blisse,
Meaning to venter for a pleasing kisse.
and as he reacht to kisse her, he did see
Come flying twixt a labouring hony be,
Which made them both to start, the Bee supposes
Her rosiat cheekes to bee two budding roses,
and sucking there vpon her pleasing skin,
Finding no sweetnes hee thrust out his sting:
and prickt her cheeke, the blood did there display
Which being done the Bee did hast away:
The Nimph in this small smart was well contēted
But of the Shepheard, it was sore lamented,
O cursed be, first thou didst stop my ioy,
But secondly farre greater thine annoy.
First hinder me of that should doe me good,
and next to shed her vndefiled blood.
This graunt you Gods, that e [...]erie honie Be,
May want a sting for this wrong done to me.
But she replide, O doe, not grieue sweete hart,
The sight of thee, makes me forget all smart.
Then freely come, and tire thy selfe with kisses,
which are to Louers their celestiall blisses,
Then did he nibble on her red soft lippes
and drawes her heart out with his amorous sipp▪
His spirrit melted when those sweetes he tasted:
and in loues flames their verie soules are wasted.
With youthfull humors now they gin to play,
H [...]e'd see her Garters, but shee cries away.
[Page]Let me goe forward and then ile retire,
Now by my flocke I sweare ile reach no higher,
She then beleiued him, and seemde not loath:
Flesh is so fraile, that he hath broke his oath.
Nay then (she saide) I pray ye let me goe:
I shall grow angrie, wherefore doe you so.
He seeing her to frowne, forsooke his pleasure,
Hoping for more ioy at a fitter leysure:
Fie, fie (quoth she) and are you not ashamde?
If any should haue seene I had bin blamde.
This place is common some may chance come by
And see vs on the grasse thus redely lie.
Then goe with me, into you pleasant Groue,
Where I will make a Garland for my loue,
There shal we finde sweet Violets & prim-Roses
all pleasing sents, that pleasant wood incloses.
April did weep with ioy, whose moderat showers
Imborders all that grasse with fragrant flowers.
There we may sit in priuate, kisse and toy,
Farthest from sight, is Louers greatest ioy.
Content (quoth she) then let vs both goe thither
My lappefull of those odorous flowers ile gather
And with them for my loue ile make a wreath,
Then on thy lips, my lips shall sweetely breath.
Thus arme in arme, they walkt into the Groue,
Then vp I start, mine eies at them did roue.
But in they were, for I had lost their sight,
And sure they were together with delight.
[Page]The sunne was darkened, and did hide his face,
Being asham'd, he mist the Shepheards place:
Then backe I came, thinking vpon these twaine,
wishing for such a Nimph, I were a Swaine.
L: M
Finis.
Apollo Hiacinth.
APollo wearie, let his courses breath,
Whilst he discended to this earth beneath:
arm'd wi [...]h his bow▪ & shafts he walkt the woods
To heare the muttering of the shallowe floods:
The little birds did sing on euerie bryer,
making the greene bow'd trees their musicks quier
And with sweete notes, these harmlesse fingers stroue
To chaunt an Anthem to the Gods aboue.
Phebus was rauish'd, hearing of this noise,
Vowing he would forsake his heauenly ioyes
To liue on earth, if no more harme were found
Then did appeare vpon that pleasant ground.
But he did after finde this faulce worlds pleasure,
Ioy for a minut, trouble without measure.
Thus wandring vp and downe without this groue
He spyed a boy, that after game did roue,
His bowe was in his hand, shafts by his side,
His curled haire did all his shoulders hide.
A well shapt face he had, pleasing ro view,
a fine streight bodie, and a hart most true,
Apollo staide and gaz dvppon his face,
[Page]Supposing him mortall of Ioues race.
and that blinde archer, that doth wound all hearts
Had now quite ouercome the God of artes,
For he did dote vpon this louely youth,
Whose heart was all composde of melting ruth,
and seeing Phebus come, the boy did stay him,
He saide youth; will you walke, heede not denay him
But went along together hand in hand:
and Zephire with calme winde their faces fand,
Then Phebus said, faire youth what make you here
Knide courteous stranger for to kill the deere?
To heare the birds to sing, the waters glide:
Tumbling in curls along a greene banke side,
More sweete content in harmelesse woods is foūd
Then in great Citties there doth sinne abound.
But here husnt quiet keepes vs companie,
Free from all cares, and bad societie:
Here growes hie grasse lets sit and make it flat,
and so beguile swift time with pleasing chat:
So hand in hand, they sat them on the ground,
Where little birds did make hermonious sound,
But Phebus heart did pant and leape with ioy,
When he beheld that sweete delicious boy.
His eyes did sparkle loue his heart flamde fire,
To see this sweete boy smile, is his desire.
Then with an ardent gripe his hand he crusht,
and then he kist him, and the boy then blusht,
That blushing coulour, so became his face
[Page]That Phebus kist againe, and thought it grace
To touch his lips, such pleasure Phebus felt,
That in an amarous deaw his heart did melt.
and thus he dallied with his amorous kisses,
Forgetting of the world, that his light misses.
More ioy he had, when this day did approach,
Then in his shining Crowne or burning Coach,
Wearied with toying▪ they left off their play,
and conquering night, had now orecome the day
Casting her sable curtaines ore the skie,
Then said the boy, I to my rest must hie.
and I said Phebus, must into the Sea,
To sport with Thetio still the breake of day.
Tomorrow when my Charriot's in the the west,
Then meete me heare, for that's my times of rest.
I will quoth Hiacinth till then farwell,
The parting of true friendes all paines excell.
Phebus turnd coward, and was quite disharted,
at last he came and kist him, and so parted.
Apollo Hiacinth
GRim night being past, the morning star appeard
and bright Aurora had the welking cleard,
Then Phebus drawne foorth by his fierie teame,
Gilded the hilles, the fieldes and watrie streame:
so swiftly flew his steeds, through scorching flames
as if he ran for the Olimpicke games.
[Page]But twas not so, Apollo made that hast,
Longing till he his Hiacinth embrac'd:
And H [...]acinth sweet youth the time respected,
Gods loue by mortalls should not be neglected
There sat he downe, by a cleere running brook
And like Narcissus doteth with each looke.
He castes vpon himselfe▪ there had he dyed,
But that bright Phebus did his beautie hide.
In ouer darkned clouds to stop his self lou'd erro [...]
No shape he saw in natures watrie Mirror.
And now Appollo wayuing towards the west,
Vnteam'd his fierie st [...]edes, and let them rest
Whilst he discended on this ball of earth,
To spor [...]e with Hiacinth strange vnknown mirth
For which the Gods were angrie, and decreed
They wold remoue the cause, the boy must bleed.
Now Phebus for to see his loue did hast him,
Then Hiacinth came running and embrac'd him:
More ioy had Phebus in this Spartane lad,
Then heauen borne loue in Phrigian Ganimed:
His loue to Daphne (that chaste beautious nimph)
Was not so great, as to his Hiacinth.
All Female pleasures, which he did adore,
Are dull to those of his male paramore.
and hauing past some houres in delight,
They would goe walke to Delpho's ere that night
Should darke the world for they went to see:
The sport there made by the lands peasatrie.
[Page]And being come to a faire spacious plaine,
There might they see each nimph had got a swain
Some dauncing after pipes, others were running
at barley breake, and with their homely cunning,
Sought to delight themselues, and those stood by
Others for nimble footing there did trie,
who best deseru'd the werth: some threw at length
The heauy sledge, & therin shewd the [...]r strength
Which pleas'd Appollo best, then hee would proue
His strength in it, and threw it farre aboue,
The expectation of the standers by,
For through the clowds the sledge did seeme to fly
and Hyacinth being eager for to throwe,
Ran to the place, ere that it fell below
Vpon the earth, and falling on firme ground
against his face the heauie sledge rebounds,
and strooke him to the earth the God did sound,
When he beh [...]ld that fatall deadly wound,
But being reuiu'd, he hollow'd in his eare,
To call backe life, O Hiacinth my deare;
Leaue me not thus, I will court destinie,
For to reuoke thee doome, thou shalt not die.
Greef would not help, in gore there lay his brain
And so Apollo's Hiacinth was slaine.
But yet the God still wept vpon his wound,
till with his teares there sprūg frō out the ground,
A flower where his bleeding corps lay dead,
Shapt like a Lilly, but this flower was red.
[Page]The people wondered when they saw this done,
But then he shewd him selfe bright like the Sunne
Which fild them all with feare, they kneeling said
Tell vs thy will, and it shall be obeyed.
Then build a statel [...] Temple ore this flowre,
And dedicate it to his matchlesse power.
That kept my heart in th [...]al that louely boy,
Beautie of mankinde, and Apollo's ioy,
And euerie yeare to make a solemne feast,
In honour of my friend but now deceas'd.
And for my part, ile walkein shadow groues,
Consort with Virgins ghosts, slain by fales loues
No more ile touch my Violl or my Lute,
Nor speake to Gods or men (true griefe is mute)
So he departed, wringing of his hands,
And they to do those things that he commaunds.
The Gods for missing of their won [...]ed light,
Sent Mercurie to know of him if night
Should still possesse the world: he made reply,
Three daies for Phaiton did I leaue the skie.
But Hyacinth was dearer, for his wracke,
Sixe daies the world shall mourn in solemn black
But Hermes vfde such cunning, he did force
Phebus againe, to take his wonted course:
And so to heauen, he went with Mercurie,
Whose tongue had power to ore rule destinie:
Yet since the earth had rob'd him of his friend,
He vow'd this cursse vntill the world should end.
[Page]Halfe of the yere, his beames should comfort shine
The rest to raine and frost he would resigne,
And that because his sorrow here had birth,
Trouble and greefe, should still possesse the earth.
Lewes Machin.
FINIS.