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Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 9

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VVith that hee sees a Rocke made like a Cabin all tapistred with Natures mossie greene, VVrought in a frizled guise, as it had been made for _Napaea_, Mountaines chiefest Queene, At mouth of which grew Cedars, Pines, & Firs, And at the top grew Maple, Yough, and Poplers.

So, heere (quoth hee) ile rest my wearied bodie in thee (delightfull place of Natures building) VVill I erect a griefe-fram'd Monasterie, where night & day my prayers ile ne're cease yielding, To thee my deere; (no other Saint I haue) Oh lend thine eares, to him that his hart gaue.

Two dayes were spent in this so pleasant seate, (this stone-built Pallace of the King content) Before _Diego_ tasted any meate, or once did drinke, more then his eyes had lent.

O irresisted force of purest Loue, Whom paines, thirst, hunger, can no whit remoue.

Sometimes, when as he scans her crueltie, & feeles his paines (like _Hydreas_ head) increasing, Hee wisht the Scithian _Anthropophagie_ did haunt these woods that liue by mans flesh eating; Or else the Thracian _Bessi_, so renound, For cruell murdring, whom in woods they found.

That so the _Gordyon_ knot of his paine indissoluble e'rewhiles he did lyue, Might be vntide when as his hart were slaine, when he (o restfull time) shold cease to grieue; But yet the Sisters kept his vitall breath, They would not let him dye so base a death.

Some other times when as he waies her beautie, her _Venus_-stayning face so wondrous faire, Hee then doth thinke to waile tis but his dutie sith caus'd by her that is without compaire, And in this moode vnto high _Ioue_ hee prayes, And praying so, hee thus vnto him sayes.

Great Gouernour of (wheele-resembling) Heauen, commaund thy vnder Princes to mayntaine, Those heau[=e]ly parts which to my loue th'aue giuen, o let her ne're feele death, or deaths fell paine.

And first vpon thy Sister lay thy mace, Bid her maintayne my Loues maiestick grace.

Inioyne the strange-borne mother-lesse _Mynerua_, and her to whom the fomie Sea was Mother, Still to vphold their giftes in my _Gyneura_: let wit and beautie lyue vnited with her; With sweete mouth'd _Pytho_ I may not suspence, Great G.o.ddesse; still increase her eloquence.

Thou musicall _Apollo_ gau'st her hand, and thou her feete (great Sun-G.o.ds deerest loue) To such your rare-knowne gyfts all gracious stand; and now at last this doe I craue great _Ioue_, That when they dye (perhaps they dye aboue) Thou wilt bequeath these gyfts vnto my Loue.

On euery neighbour Tree, on euery stone (hee durst not far range from his secure Caue) VVould he cut out the cause of all his moane, and curiouslie with greatest skill ingraue: There needed no _Leontius_, his Art, Griefe carueth deepest, if it come from th'hart.

VVhen some stone would not impression take hee straight compares it to his Mistris hart, But stay, (quoth he) my working teares shall make thee penetrable with the least skil'd art.

Oh had my teares such force to pierce her mind, These sorrowes I should loose, and new ioyes find.

Thou euer-memorable stone (quoth hee) tell those whom fate or fortune heere shall lead, How deerely I haue lou'd the cruel'st shee that euer Nature or the world hath bred.

Tell them her hate, and her disdaine was causelesse, Oh, leaue not out to tell how I was guiltlesse.

Whereat, the very stone would seeme to weepe, whose wrinkled face wold be besmeard with tears O man what ere thou be, thy sorrowes keepe vnto thy selfe, quoth hee; ile heare no cares.

Tell them that care not, tell _Gyneura_ of thee, We stones are ruthfull, & thy plaints haue pierc'd mee.

VVith this, hee seekes a russet-coated Tree, & straight disclothes him of his long-worne weed And whilest hee thus dis...o...b..s him busilie, hee felt his halfe-dead hart a fresh to bleed.

Greeuing that hee should vse such crueltie, To turne him naked to his foe, windes furie.

But now vncas'ed, hee gins to carue his cares, his pa.s.sions, his constant-lyuing Loue, When (loe) there gushes out cleere sap like teares which to get forth from pryson mainly stroue, Since pitty dwells (quoth hee) in trees and stone, Them will I loue; _Gyneura_, thou hast none.

Yet needs I must confesse thou once didst loue mee, thy loue was hotter then _Nimphaeum_ hill, But now wh[=e] time affords me, means to proue thee, thy loue then _Caucase_ is more cold and chill, And in thy cold, like Aethiopyan hue, Thou art not to be chang'd from false to true.

O looke (faire Loue) as in the springing Plant one branch intwines and growes within another, So growe my griefes; which makes my hart to pant when thicke-fetcht sighes my vitall breath doth smother, I spoild my cruelty am adiudg'd to death, Thus all alone to yield my lyuing breath.

Thou hast the fayrest face that e're was seene, but in thy breast (that Alablaster Rocke) Thou hast a fouler hart; disdaine hath beene accounted blacker then the Chimnies stocke.

O purifie thy soule my dearest Loue, Dislodge thy hate, and thy disdaine remoue.

But all in vaine I speake vnto the wind, then should they carry these my plaints vnto her, Mee thinks thou still shouldst beare a gentle mind, (deere-louing _Zephire_) pray, intreate, & woo her; Tell her twere pittie I should dye alone, Here in these woods wher non can heare me mone.

But tis no matter, shee is pittylesse like the Scycilian stone that more tis beate Doth waxe the harder; stones are not so ruthlesse, which smallest drops doe pierce though nere so great: If Seas of teares would weare into her hart, I had ere this beene eased of my smart.

Thus in these speeches would _Diego_ sit bathing his siluer cheekes with trickling teares, VVhich (often running downe) at last found fit channells to send them to their standing meares, VVho at his feete (before his feete there stood A poole of teares) receau'd the smaller flood.

Ne're had the world a truer louing hart, _Abydos_ cease to speake of constant loue, Por sure (thou Sygnior _Dom Diego_) art the onely man that e're hates force did proue; Thy changelesse loue hath close inrol'd thy name, In steele-leau'd booke of euer-lyuing fame.

That wide-mouth'd time wc swallows good desarts shall shut his iawes, & ne're deuoure thy name, Thou shalt be crown'd with bayes by louing harts, and dwell in Temple of eternall Fame; There, is a sacred place reseru'd for thee, There, thou shalt liue with perpetuitie.

So long liu'd poore _Diego_ in this case that at the length hee waxed somwhat bold, To search the woods where hee might safely chase, (necessitie, thy force cannot be told) The fearefull Hare, the Connie, and the Kid, Time made him knowe the places where they bid.

This young-year'd Hermit, one day mong the rest as hee was busilie prouiding meate, VVhich was with Natures cunning almost drest, dri'd with the Sunne new readie to be eate, Inrag'd vpon a suddaine throwes away His hard-got foode; and thus began to say.

O cruell starres, Step-mothers of my good, & you, you ruthlesse Fates what meane you thus, So greedely to thirst for my harts blood, why ioy you so in vnuniting vs?

Great powres infuse some pitty in her hart That thus hath causelesse caus'd in me this smart.

I ne're was wont to vse such Cookerie, to drudge & toile wh[=e] pesants take their pleasure, My n.o.ble birth scornes base-borne slauerie, this easelesse lyfe hath neither end nor measure; Thou great _Sosipolis_ looke vpon my state, Be of these nere-hard griefes compa.s.sionate.

I feele my long-thought life begin to melt as doth the snowe gainst midday heate of Sunne, (Faire loue) thy rigour I haue too much felt, oh, at the last with crueltie haue done, If teares thy stonie hart could mollifie, My brinish springs should floe eternallie.

Sweet loue, behold those pale cheekes washt in woe that so my teares may as a mirror be, Thine owne faire shaddowe liuely for to shoe, and portraite forth thy Angel-hued beautie.

_Narcissus_-lyke then shouldst thou my face kisse, More honny sweete, then _Venus_ gaue _Adonis_.

Feare not _Gyneura_, faire _Narcissus_ hap; thy necke, thy breast, thy hand is Lilly-white, They all are Lillies tane from _Floraes_ lap; ne're be thou chang'd vnlesse to loue from spite, Oh that thou wer't but then transformed so, My Sommers blisse, would change my winters woe.

If thou did'st knowe in what a loathsome place, I spend my dayes sad and disconsolate, VVhat foggie Stigian mists hang o re my face, thou would'st exile this thy conceaued hate; This Hemisphere is darke, for _Sol_ him shroudes, My sighes doe so conglomerate the cloudes.

I tolde thee, I, (thou cruell too seuere) when hate first gan to rise how I was guiltlesse, Thine eares were deaffe, ye wouldst not harken ere thy hart was hardned, rockie, pittilesse.

Oh had mine eyes been blind wh[=e] first they view'd thee, Would G.o.d I had been tonglesse wh[=e] I sew'd thee.

But thou wast then as readie to receaue as I to craue; o great inconstancie, O twas that fatall houre did so bereaue my blisfull soule of all tranquillitie: Thou then didst burne in loue, now froz'd in hate, Yet pittie mee, sweete mercy ne're comes late.

Looke as the crazen tops of armelesse Trees or latest down-fall of some aged building, Doe tell thee of the North-windes boistrous furies, and how that _Eolus_ lately hath beene stirring; So in my thin-cheekt face thou well maist see, The furious storme of thy black crueltie.

But thou inexorable art, ne're to be wone, though Lyons, Bears, & Tigers haue been tam'd, Thy wood borne rigour neuer will be done, which thinks for this thou euer shalt be fam'd; True, so thou shalt, but fam'd in infamie, Is worse then lyuing in obscuritie.

If thou didst knowe howe greeuous tis to me to lyue in this vnhabited aboade, Where none (but sorrowe) keepes me companie, I know thou wouldst thy harts hate then vnload, Oh, I did ne're deserue this miserie, For to denie the truth were heresie.

I tell thee (Loue) when secret-tongued night puts on her mistie sable-coloured vayle, My wrangling woes, within them selues do fight, they murder hope, which makes their Captaine wayle, And wailing so, can neuer take his rest, That keepes such vnrul'd Souldiers in his brest.

So when the cleere nights-faults-disclosing day peepes forth her purple head, from out the East, These woes (my Souldiers) crie out for their pay, (and if deni'd) they stab mee, with vnrest; My teares are pay, but all my teares are dride Therefore I must their fatall blowes abide.

In these laments did _Dom Diego_ liue long time; till at the last by pourefull fate, A wandring Huntsman ignorance did driue vnto the place whence hee return'd but late; Who viewing well the print of humaine steps Directly followed them, and for ioy leaps.

At last hee came vnto _Diegoes_ Caue in which he sawe a sauadge man (hee thought) Who much did looke like the _Danubyan_ slaue, such deep-worn furrows in his face were wrought, _Diego_ much abashed at this sight Came running forth, him in his armes to plight.

For glad hee was (G.o.d knowes) to see a man, who (wretch) in two yeres s.p.a.ce did ne're see any Such gladnes, ioy, such mirth, such triumph can not be set downe, suppose them to be many.

But see, long had they not confer'd together, When (happie time) each one did know the other.

VVith that _Diego_ shewes him all his loue, his pennance, her first loue, & now her hate, But hee requested him hence to remoue, and at his house the rest hee should dilate, Which hee deni'd, onely hee now doth write By this his friend, vnto his harts delight.

Deere Loue (quoth he) when shall I home returne, wh[=e] will the coales of hate be quencht with loue, VVhich now in raging flames my hart do burne, oh, when wilt thou this thy disdaine remoue; Aske of this bearer, be inquisitiue, And hee will tell thee in what case I liue.

Inquire of her, whose Hawke hath caus'd this woe, if for that fauour euer I did loue her, And shee will curse mee that did vse her so, and shee will tell thee how I lou'd another; Twas thee _Gyneura_, twas thy fairest selfe, I hel'd thee as a Pearle, her drossie pelfe.

Then, when thou hast found out the naked truth, thinke of thy _Diego_, and his hard hap, Let it procure in thee some mouing ruth, that thus hast causelesse cast him from thy lap: Fare-well my deere, I hope this shall suffize, To ad a period to thy cruelties.

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Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 9 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 571 views.

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