Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 5

Of this both _Venus_, and her blind boy bosted, And thence to _Paphos_ Isle in triumph posted.

9

Now was the time, when shepheards told their sheep, And weary plow-men ease themselues with sleepe, When loue-p.r.i.c.kt _Thisbe_ no where could be found, Nor _Pyramus_, though seruants sought them round.

But newes came straight, that _Pyramus_ was seene, Sporting with _Thisbe_ lately in the euen: Like newes to both their Parents soone was brought; Which newes (alas) the louers downfals wrought.

For though they lov'd, as you haue heard of yore, Their angry parents hate was ten times more, And hearing that their children were together, Both were afraide least each had murthered other.

10

When they came home, as long they staid not forth, Their storming parents fround vpon them both, And charged them neuer so to meet againe, Which charge to them, G.o.d knows was endles paine: For yeres came on, and true loue tooke such strength, That they were welnigh slaine for loue at length: For though their parents houses ioynd in one, Yet they poore peats, were ioynd to liue alone.

So great and deadly was the daring hate, Which kept their moody parents at debate, And yet their hearts as houses ioynd together, Though hard constraint, their bodies did disseuer.

11

At length they found, as searching louers find, A shift (though hard) which somwhat easd their mind: For Io a time worne creuis in the wall, Through this the louers did each other call, And often talke, but softly did they talke, Least busie spy-faults should find out their walke: For it was plast in such a secret roome, As thither did their parents seldome come.

Through this they kist, but with their breath they kist, For why the hindring wall was them betwixt, Somtimes poor souls, they talkt till they were windles And all their talke was of their friends vnkindnes.

12

When they had long time vsd this late found shift, Fearing least some should vndermine their drift, They did agree, but through the wall agreed, That both should hast vnto the groue with speed, And in that arbour where they first did meet, With semblant loue each should the other greet, The match concluded, and the time set downe, _Thisbe_ prepar'd to get her forth the towne, For well she wot, her loue would keepe his houre, And be the first should come vnto the bowre: For _Pyramus_ had sworne there for to meete her, And like to _Venus_ champion there to greet her.

13

_Thisbe_ and he, for both did sit on bryers, Till they enioyd the height of their desires: Sought out all meanes they could to keep their vow, And steale away, and yet they knew not how.

_Thisbe_ at last (yet of the two the first) Got out, she went to coole loues burning thirst, Yet ere she went (yet as she went) she hide, She had a care to decke her vp in pride, Respecting more his loue to whom she went, Then parents feare, though knowing to be shent, And trickt her selfe so like a willing louer, As purblind _Cupid_ tooke her for his mother.

14

Her vpper garment was a robe of lawne, On which bright _Venus_ siluer doues were drawne: The like wore _Venus_, _Venus_ robe was white, And so was _Thisbes_ not so faire to sight, Nor yet so fine, yet was it full as good, Because it was not stain'd with true loues bloud.

About her waste, she wore a scarfe of blew, In which by cunning needle-worke she drew Loue-wounded _Venus_ in the bushie groue, VVhere she inheated, _Adon_ scornd her loue.

This scarfe she wore, (_Venus_ wore such another) And that made _Cupid_ take her for his mother.

15

Nymph-like attyr'd (for so she was attyr'd) She went to purchase what true loue desyr'd, And as she trode vpon the tender gra.s.se, The gra.s.se did kisse her feet as she did pa.s.se: And when her feet against a floure did strike, The bending floures did stoope to doe the like: And when her feet did from the ground arise, The ground she trod on, kist her heele likewise.

Tread where she would, faire _Thisbe_ could not misse, For euery gra.s.se would rob her of a kisse.

And more the boughs wold bend, for ioy to meet her And chanting birds, with madrigals would greet her.

16

Thus goes this maidlike Nimph, or Nimphlike maid, Vnto the place afore appointed laid, And as she past the groues and fountaines cleere, Where Nymphs vsd hunting, for Nymphs hunted there, They sware she was _Diana_, or more bright.

For through the leauie boughs they tooke delight, To view her daintie footing as she tript: And once they smil'd, for once faire _Thisbe_ slipt, Yet though she slipt, she had so swift a pace, As that her slipping wrought her no disgrace.

For of the Nymphs (whose coy eyes did attend her) Of all was none, of all that could amend her.

17

VVhen she had past _Dianes_ curious traine, The crooked way did bending turne againe, Vpon the left hand by a forrest side, Where (out alas) a woe chance did betide: For loue-adoring _Thisbe_ was so faire, That bruitish beasts at her delighted are: And from the rest as many beasts did rome, A lamb deuouring Lion forth did come, And hauing lately torne a sillie Lambe, The full gorg'd Lion sported as it came, To him a sport, his sport made _Thisbe_ hie her, For why, she durst not let the beast come nie her.

18

Yet still it came, to welcome her it came, And not to hurt, yet fearefull is the name, The name more then the Lion, her dismayd, For in her lap the Lion would haue playd.

Nor meant the beast to spill her guilelesse bloud, Yet doubtfull _Thisbe_ in a fearefull moode, Let fall her mantle, made of purest white, And tender heart, betooke her straight to flight, And neere the place where she should meet her loue, Shee slipt, but quickely slipt into a groue, And lo a friendly Caue did entertaine her, For feare the bloudy Lion should haue slaine her.

19

_Thisbe_ thus scap't, for thus she scap't his force, Although (G.o.d wot) it fell out farther worse: The Lion came yet meant no harme at all, And comming found the mantle she let fall, Which now he kist, he would haue kist her too, But that her nimble footmanship said no.

He found the robe, which quickly he might find, For being light, it houered in the winde: VVith which the game-some Lion long did play, Till hunger cald him thence to seeke his prey: And hauing playd, for play was all his pleasure, He left the mantle, _Thisbes_ chiefest treasure.

20

Yet ere he left it, being in a mood, He tore it much, and stain'd it ore with bloud, Which done, with rage he hasted to his prey, For they in murther pa.s.se their time away.

And now time-telling, _Pyramus_ at last, (For yet the houre of meeting was not past) Got forth (he would haue got away before) But fate and fortune sought to wrong him more: For euen that day, more fatall then the rest, He needs must giue attendance at a feast, Ere which was done (swift time was shrewdly wasted) But being done, the louely stripling hasted.

21

In hast he ran, but ran in vaine G.o.d wot, _Thisbe_ he sought, faire _Thisbe_ found he not, And yet at last her long loue robe he found All rent and torne vpon the b.l.o.o.d.y ground.

At which suspicion told him she was dead, And onely that remained in her stead: Which made him weepe, like mothers, so wept he, That with their eyes their murthered children see; And gathering vp the limbes in peecemeale torne, Of their deare burthen murtherously forlorne: So _Pyramus_ sicke thoughted like a mother, For _Thisbes_ losse, more deare then any other.

22

Or who hath seene a mournefull Doe lament For her young Kid, in peecemeale torne and rent, And by the poore remainders sit and mourne, For loue of that which (out alas) is gone?

Let him behold sad _Pyramus_, and say, Her losse, his loue, doth equall euery way.

For as a man that late hath lost his wits, Breakes into fury and disaster fits, So _Pyramus_ in griefe without compare, Doth rend his flesh, and teare his golden haire, Making the trees to tremble at his mourning, And speechlesse beasts to sorrow with his groaning.

23

Alas (quoth he) and then he tore his flesh, Gone is the sunne that did my Zone refresh, Gone is the life, by which I wretch did liue, Gone is my heauen, which hopefull blisse did giue, To giue me heat, her selfe lyes nak't and cold, To giue me life, to death her selfe she sold, To giue me ioy, she bale alas did gaine, My heat, life, ioy, procur'd her death, bale, paine: Had I beene here, my loue had not beene dead, At least the beasts had torne me in her stead, Or would they yet teare me for company, Their loue to me would slacke their tyranny.

24

And then he cast his eyes vpon the ground, And here and there where bloudie gra.s.se he found; Sweet bloud (quoth he) and then he kist the bloud, And yet that kisse G.o.d wot did little good, Couldst thou being powr'd into my halfe slaine brest, Reuiue againe, or purchase _Thisbes_ rest, This hand should teare a pa.s.sage through the same, And yet that bloud from _Thisbe_ neuer came, And then be gatherd vp the bloudie gra.s.se, And looking grieu'd, and grieuing cryde alas, Where shall I hide this bloud of my deare louer, That neither man nor beast may it discouer?