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Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 20

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Her sight begot in him a new desire, For that is restlesse alwaies in extreames, Nought but saciety can quench loues fire.

Now throgh the christal casem[=e]t _Phoebus_ beames Dazled those twinckling starres that did aspire, To gaze vpon his brightnesse being a louer.

Tasting her petulans in waking dreames, To hide her from the sunne, he doth her couer.

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Then sweet breath'd musicke, like the chime of spheares, Did rauish pleasure, till this paire did rise: More wonder then that sound was to men eares Was her rare beauty to the gazers eyes.

Ioy was so violent, the rockes it teares, The noise and triumphs beates vpon the aire, And like ambition pierceth through the skies, That _Ioue_ loo'kt downe on her that was so rare.

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Thus _Mahomet_ both day and night doth spend, In obseruation of her eyes and pleasure, Growing so iealous, least he should offend, His soules perfection, natures vnspent treasure.

If she but speake to him, he low doth bend, And such a seruitude he doth discouer.

Neglecting of himselfe in that grosse measure, That _Hiren_ clips her slaue, no Emperour.

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Her chamber is her prison (O most willing) And there like house-doues they each other woo At first shee'l shun him, after fall a billing, And with imagination make him doo.

Thy eies quoth _Mahomet_, saues thousands killing For all my force vpon thee shall be spent, Thy warres directions I do best allow, Thy Armes my Armour, and thy bed my Tent.

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Who doth offend this paramour, straight dyes, As certainly, as if p.r.o.nounc'd by fate, Who doth with duty please her, needs must rise, Her face directeth both his loue and hate.

The grosest flatterer is held most wise.

Now reignes swolne gluttony, red l.u.s.t, and pride: For when the heart's corrupted in a state, Needs must the other parts be putrifide.

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The c[=o]mons like wolues, bark againft the moone And sweare they wil depose him from his throne: The n.o.bles whisper, and intend, that soone.

Some one shal let their griefe to him be knowne.

To scape that office now is each mans boone, Who speakes against her whets a fatall knife, For he replyes, I loose but what's mine owne, As sure as we haue life, you loose that life.

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They stand amaz'd, by hearing their own feares Each viewing other with a face extracted: Some praying, cursing, other shedding teares, To see a Louer by a Souldier acted.

Patience doth foole vs that so long forbeares, To tell our Emperour hee's turn'd a monster, And to such ease and vices so contracted.

The world, his birth, and t.i.tles doth mis-conster.

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Then _Mustapha_, beloued of the Turke, Stood vp, and said, I hazard will my head, Know Countrymen, Ile vndertake this worke, And if I fall, lament me being dead.

No flattery within this breast shall lurke: For that to Princes eares is now grown common Whilest _Mahomet_ to haue his pleasure fed, Doth loose the worlds sway for a fickle woman.

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Vnto her priuate chamber straight he goes, And findes his foueraigne sleeping on her lap, On suddaine wakes him: Sir, here are your foes, The sound amaz'd him like a thunder-clap: Although you sleep, awak't are all our woes.

The franticke Emperour vpon him stares, Relate in briefe the worst of our mishap, Man cannot wrong vs, when a G.o.d not dares.

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This danger _Mehomet_, attends thy reigne, The G.o.ds are angry with thy l.u.s.tfull ease, Thy priuate pleasure is the Empires paine, To please your selfe you all the world displease: The Sophy, German, and the King of Spaine, Begirt thy safety with the ribbes of death.

Then worthy Prince, your wonted valour cease, And take my counsel, though it cost my breath.

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You are but the shadow of an Emperour, Not really effecting what you are, A slothfull Epicure, a puling louer, That now en'e trembles at the name of warre, Obliuion all thy former acts do couer, Most willing to remoue you I will dye, The sunne of honour now is scarce a starre, Vertue at first was sire to Maiesty.

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The Emperour vpon his subiect stares, As if a Gorgons head he there had seene, How comes it va.s.sall, that thy proud t[=o]gue dares, Speake to remoue mee fr[=o] this heauenly queene?

The G.o.ds wold liue on earth, to haue their shares In my _Hirena_: Sirra, you want nurture: Thy life I will not touch now in my spleene, But in cold bloud it shall depart with torture.

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I feare not death, repli'd bold _Mustapha_, At your command I'le clime a steepy rocke, Then headlong tumble downe into the sea, Or willingly submit me to the blocke, Disrobe my nature, and my body flea: Yet in that tyranny I'le speake my minde, And boldly like a Souldier stand deaths shocke, Concluding, l.u.s.t can strike the Eagle blinde.

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His haughty words amaz'd this king of loue, Thou wert not wont to speake thus without duty.

Can her embraces so my soule remoue?

And must he be a coward dotes on beauty?

Such rarity of pleasure I do proue, In her enioying, that my soule is fed, With that variety, to speake her truly, Each night she giues me a new maiden-head.

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Yet shall my subiects know my power in this, That I can rule mine own affection: I pardon freely what thou speak'st amisse, Knowing it sprung from loue, and thy subiection: Your eies shall see me rob the earth of blisse, A sight too sad, all heauen strike men with terror, And in that act cast such reflexion.

That kings shall see th[=e]selues in me their mirror.

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Go, tell my Bashaes, and the n.o.ble bloud, I do inuite them to a royall dinner, And there I'le shew them loue can be withstood: Yet he that wrongs my _Greeke_ is such a sinner, He cannot cleanse himselfe, washt in _Ioues_ flood.

Fortune this fate vpon my loue hath hurld, The Monarkes of the earth in hope to win her, Against her beauty would stake all the world.

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Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 20 summary

You're reading Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624). This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Dunstan Gale and Richard Lynche and William Barksted and Samuel Page. Already has 570 views.

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