Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 25

The Nurse soone found _Senecdoche_ in this, And what the whole meant by a perfect gesse.

Her aged bones did shake and tremble fast, Her h.o.a.ry haire stood staring vp on end, From forth her eyes a heauy looke she cast, And many a sigh her heart distrest did send; And pausing long, not knowing what to say, At last her tongue her minde did thus bewray.

In this I hope, good Lady, you but iest, To try your Nurses now-decaying wit; So foule a fault is not within your breast, Then tell me true the occasion of this fit.

The Lady frown'd, & stopt her speaking farther, And said get h[=e]ce, is't shame to loue our father?

I she reply'd, in such a filthy sort, It is not loue, but l.u.s.t that you professe, Necessity with true loue cannot sort; Your loue contaminates, you must confesse.

A daughters loue then to your father show, Some loue _good things_ but with _bad loue_, I know.

Or if your wanton flesh you cannot tame, Nor coole the burning of your hot desire, Then take some one that not augmets the shame And set apart to dote vpon your fire.

It is most vile to stand in such a need, To make the actor baser then the deed.

Besides, his yeares can yeeld no such content, That blithsome wanton dames expect to haue, Herein your bargaine you will soone repent, Wh[=e] you shal find great want of that you craue: Are you so mad, o will you once beleeue Old men content to frolicke Dames can giue?

Take this example of me, from the Sky, Behold a shooting star from heauen fall Whose glimmering light you scarcely do espye But it is gone as nothing were at all; And so their sports being sca.r.s.e begun doth leaue As in the aire concressions we perceiue.

Or as the bloomes vpon the Almond-tree, That vanish sooner the the mush-rums done: Or as the flies _Haemere_ we do see, To leaue their breath their life being scarce begunne, Who thinks that tree whose roots decai'd by time Can yeeld like fruit to yong ones in their prime.

A rotten sticke more fit to burne then vse, I maruell what from age you do expect, Let my experience their defect accuse, And teach thee how thy equals to affect; When they should toy, iocund & sport with thee, Their gouts, coughs & cramps, wil hindrance be.

'Tis nor their fault, but incident to age, Which far more imperfections with it brings, As iealousie, suspicion, fury, rage, Dislike, disdaine, and other such like things, For can the fire, hot in nature, dwell With water cold, but they at length rebell.

Euen as in Summer one may aptly note, The fire and water in one cloud contain'd; And neither, yet, the mastery hauing got, Being opposits, their furie's not restrain'd, But do contend in strife and deadly warre, Til scolding Thunder do p.r.o.nounce the iarre.

Choose from thy woers some peculiar one, Whose loue may fill the measure of thy hopes, And balonize thy wanton sports alone, Whose appet.i.te with thy desire copes, Youth will be frolicke in a Maidens bed, Age is vnapt and heauy as the lead.

Youth hath his daliance and his kind embrace, Euen as the Elmes incircled with the Vine; Age loueth rest and quiet in this case, Saying, Oakes at such like Iuy gripes repine, Yuths pleasing weltun'd years sweet musick maks When for c[=o]sort loue strings it strains or slakes.

Yet chuse thou one whose tongue's not set on wheeles Who eats his words before he brings th[=e] forth That no _decorum_ in his talking feeles, Such are but buzards, blabs of little worth: And for complexion, heerein mee beleeue, The perfect sanguine sweet content doth giue.

The Phlegmaticke is like the water cold, The Cholericke wants sap, like fire dry, And Melancholy, as age, is dull and old, But in the Sanguin moist warme iuice doth lie, Whose beauty feeds the eye with sweete delight, The rest do rather feare then please the sight.

What pleasure can a sterne grim face affoord, A swarfie colour or rough s.h.a.gged haire, Or Rauen blacke? beleeue me at a word, They are too blame that do despise the faire: They please the eye, prouoke dull appet.i.te, Resemble G.o.ds, and do the minde delight.

Cease chatting gentle nurse, the Lady said, Or frame thy Tale to sute more with the time, My choice is made, therein I neede no aide Which may be compast by some help of thine, It is too late of abstinence too preach, Wh[=e] one is drunk, & notes not what you teach.

I seeke him not for l.u.s.t, as you do deeme, For if my mind were onely bent thereto, I could find other men I might esteeme, You know the store of Suters come to woe: But 'tis some kind of naturall instinct, Or deuine flame that cannot be extinct.

What I do seeke I know is wondrous vile, And haue a will for to withstand the same, Yet can those motions by no meanes exile, So seeketh l.u.s.t to bring me vnto shame, Be it worse th[=e] nought to haue it flesh doth striue Helpe Nurse, else long I cannot liue.

And wish not to disswade me in this case, Nor giue me counsell to withdraw my minde It likes me well, I weigh not the disgrace, O teach me then to win him to be kind!

Helpe me good Nurse in this my cruell state, All other meanes of comfort comes too late.

And since thou needs woldst vnderstand my sham Which I did grieue and blush to ope to thee, And had lear di'd then told thee of the same, Now be not slacke to lend thy helpe to me, Thou forst me for to open my disgrace, Then lend thy help to salue my wretched case.

You do not know good Nurse or haue forgot, What 'tis to loue, and cannot it obtaine, Of youths kind daliance age doth take no note, Forgetting it, and thinke all may abstaine: But tis not so, I to those thoughts reply, Then helpe me gentle Nurse, or else I die.

Liue still my sweete, quoth she, and do possesse, Yet name of (father) shame forc't her conceale And with a staggring speech the word represt, And all her helpe more amply to reueale, She made a vow, whereby herselfe she bound, To do the best that might in her be found.

The feasts of gentle _Ceres_ now began, Which yearely they obseru'd, and held it ill, For thrice three nights to lye with any man, The wiues in white, apparrelled were still, And vnto _Ceres_, first fruit of the field, (As garlands made of eares of corne) did yeeld.

The Queen amongst these women did frequent These Rites, and would be absent at that time.

The Nurse then to accomplish her intent, And finding _Cynaras_ made blith with wine, The Syren most inchantingly did sing, And thus at last broke silence to the King.

Renowned King, but that your constant loue Restraines my tongue & holds my speeches in, A wanton question I would to thee moue?

Speak on, quoth he, good Nurse thy speech begin, With _Bacchus_ feasts do wanton sports agree, I know thou wouldst no ill thing vnto me.

Then thus, quoth shee, there is a gallant Maide Of Princely birth and n.o.ble high degree, Who at this time would be right well apaide To kisse thy hand, shee is so in loue with thee, Such diuine beauty in her face doth lurke, That G.o.ds enuy at Nature for the worke.

Without offence vnto your Queene and Wife, Vnto this Lady, she is a homely cate, I loue your Queene, and honour her as life, And but admire the others happy state, That's made so faire that none can like her bee, Your Queene is kind, abuse her not for mee.

But if you saw her face, as I haue done, And view'd the rest of her proportion'd limbs, You would contemne my Mistres face too soone, Yet loue th[=e] both: it nought your honor dims, One as your wife, the next for beauties sake, So of them both a beauteous wife but make.

The glory of her haire is wonderous bright, Vpon her brows doth ebbe and flow content Her eies in motion do beget delight, Her cheekes a tincture to _Aurora_ lent Her teeths no pearle, her eyes no rubies are, But flesh and bone, more red and white by far.

No lisping tongue that fondrels count a grace, But doth to well tun'd harmony incline, A necke inferior nought vnto the face, And breath most apt for to be prest by thine, Now if the vtter view so glorious proue, Iudge how the hidden parts procure loue.

The King who all this while lent listening eare, Being wrapt in admiration of her speech, Now did begin more liuely to appeare And for to know one thing of her did seech, Saying, of what yeeres may this Lady be?

Iust of sweete _Myrahs_ age, replied shee.

He said then, bring her to conferre with mee, That I may try if all be true you say.

It is most true, as after you shall see, But said the Nurse, you now must let her stay, Perhaps shee'le blush, and be to coy by light, When she will yeeld more kindly in the night.

Such pretty Dames will hardly yeeld consent, For in their mouthes they alwaies carry nay, Yet if you giue, to take, they are content, And nere refuse, whatere their tongue doth say: For so they nature simple men abuse, When what they loue they most of all refuse.

If I do fable, put me vnto shame, In saying she resembles _Myrha_ much, For 'tis so much, as if it were the same; And when you seeke to gaine the loue of such Let my experience thus much you a.s.sure They Fawlcon-like stoop to a ganey lure.

And now you may, voide of suspected crime, Dally with her in your lasciuious bed, The sacred _Ceres_ feasts are at this time, And there your Queen is stil: this scarcely sed, Quoth _Cyneras_, bring her this night to mee, Whereto the Nurse replide, I do agree.

With hopefull newes the Nurse return'd againe, And cheer'd her chicke, & bad her not be sad, Her wished sute, she certaine should obtaine, The news wherof made _Myrha_ wondrous glad.

Yet as she ioy'd, she was opprest with feare, Such discords of affections in her were.

Away slips time and hasteneth on the night, And now the Beare's seene run about the Pole Conducted forward by Boaetes bright, The other stars about the axe-tree role: The Southerne images do shine as gold, Fit monuments for Hunters to behold.

At what time _Myrha_ wickedly proceedes And takes in hand to act her base desire, The shamefull l.u.s.t with cursed hopes she feeds Which quickly sets her heart vpon a fire, And thereupon resolueth on her shame, And not one thought to contradict it came.

At which the Sunne his glorious face did hide, Each Planet pulleth in his golden head, The other stars out of the heauens glide And _Cynthia_ from her siluer Palace fled, The night is robbed of her wonted light, Each thing turn'd dark that formerly was bright.

Three times, by stumbling, _Myrha_ was fore-told Of bad successe, if she did not retire; Three times the Owles like lessons did vnfold, Whose dolefull note do foule mishap require; Yet she crept on, regarding not the same, The want of light alayed much the shame.

The Nurse doth lead her by her owne left hand, The right doth grope the dark and desart way, As silent as the night they now do stand To heare the night-crows scrik, & goblins play The lich-foule beats, and at the window cries, For to come in, to stay the enterprise.

O gentle Nurse, said _Myrha_ tell to me, What may these scremes & doleful scriks portend, The nurse reply'd, my child, no hurt to thee, They are but servants that on night attend, These goblins, lich-fouls, Owls, & night-crows to At murthers raile, with loue haue naught to do.

And then the Beldam leads the Lady on Through many roomes & other turning waies As in a laborinth they two had gone; And as they go, she to the Lady saies; Now cheere you vp, and get a iocund minde In thinking of the pleasures you shall finde.

At last shee brings her to the chamber dore Which softly she did ope, and led her in, The Lady fals to trembling more and more, Her very heart did to relent begin, The neerer to the wickednesse she went, The more to quake and shiuer shee was bent.

Looke how you see a blind man on the way Led by another through some desart place, Stagger and grope and at each trifle stay For feare least he should fall: euen in like case, The wretched nurse the fearefull Lady leads, Who shakes and starts at euery step she treads.