Force in these frayes, is better man then skyll
Yet I like skill, and Ouid if a kis
May doe thee so much pleasure, heere it is.
97
Her moouing towards him, made Ouids eye
Beleeue the Firmament was comming downe
To take him quick to immortalitie,
And that th’Ambrosian kisse set on the Crowne:
Shee spake in kissing, and her breath infusde
Restoring syrrop to his tast, in swoune:
And hee imaginde Hebes hands had brusde
A banquet of the Gods into his sence,
Which fild him with this furious influence.
98
The motion of the Heauens that did beget
The golden age, and by whose harmonie
Heauen is preserud, in mee on worke is set,
All instruments of deepest melodie
Set sweet in my desires to my loues liking
With this sweet kisse in mee theyr tunes apply,
As if the best Musitians hands were striking:
This kisse in mee hath endlesse Musicke closed,
Like Phoebus Lute, on Nisus Towrs imposed.
99
And as a Pible cast into a Spring,
Wee see a sort of trembling cirkles rise,
One forming other in theyr issuing
Till ouer all the Fount they circulize,
So this perpetuall-motion-making kisse,
Is propagate through all my faculties,
And makes my breast an endlesse Fount of blisse,
Of which, if Gods could drink, theyr matchlesse fare
Would make them much more blessed then they are.
100
But as when sounds doe hollow bodies beate,
Ayre gatherd there, comprest, and thickned,
The selfe same way shee came doth make retreate,
And so effects the sounde reechoed
Onely in part, because shee weaker is
In that redition, then when first shee fled:
So I alas, faint eccho of this kisse,
Onely reiterate a slender part
Of that high ioy it worketh in my hart.
101
And thus with feasting, loue is famisht more,
Without my touch are all things turnd to gold,
And till I touch, I cannot ioy my store:
To purchase others, I my selfe haue sold,
Loue is a wanton famine, rich in foode,
But with a richer appetite controld,
An argument in figure and in Moode,
Yet hates all arguments: disputing still
For Sence, gainst Reason, with a sencelesse will.
102
Then sacred Madam, since my other sences
Haue in your graces tasted such content,
Let wealth not to be spent, feare no expences,
But giue thy bountie true eternizement:
Making my sences ground-worke, which is, Feeling,
Effect the other, endlesse excellent,
Their substance with flint-softning softnes steeling:
Then let mee feele, for know sweet beauties Queene,
Dames may be felt, as well as heard or seene.
103
For if wee be allowd to serue the Eare
With pleasing tunes, and to delight the Eye
With gracious showes, the Taste with daintie cheere,
The Smell with Odors, ist immodestie
To serue the sences Emperor, sweet Feeling
With those delights that fit his Emperie?
Shall Subiects free themselues, and bind theyr King?
Mindes taint no more with bodies touch or tyre,
Then bodies nourish with the mindes desire.
104
The minde then cleere, the body may be vsde,
Which perfectly your touch can spritualize;
As by the great elixer is trans-fusde
Copper to Golde, then grant that deede of prise:
Such as trans-forme into corrupt effects
What they receaue from Natures purities,
Should not wrong them that hold her due respects:
To touch your quickning side then giue mee leaue,
Th’abuse of things, must not the vse bereaue.
105
Heere-with, euen glad his arguments to heare,
Worthily willing to haue lawfull grounds
To make the wondrous power of Heauen appeare,
In nothing more then her perfections found,
Close to her nauill shee her Mantle wrests,
Slacking it vpwards, and the foulds vnwound,
Showing Latonas Twinns, her plenteous brests
The Sunne and Cynthia in theyr tryumph-robes
Of Lady-skin; more rich then both theyr Globes.
106
Whereto shee bad, blest Ouid put his hand:
Hee, well acknowledging it much too base
For such an action, did a little stand,
Enobling it with tytles full of grace,
And coniures it with charge of reuerend verse,
To vse with pietie that sacred place,
And through his Feelings organ to disperse
Worth to his spirits, amply to supply
The porenes of his fleshes facultie.
107
And thus hee sayd: King of the King of Sences,
Engines of all the engines vnder heauen,
To health, and life, defence of all defences,
Bountie by which our nourishment is giuen,
Beauties bewtifier, kinde acquaintance maker,
Proportions odnes that makes all things euen,
Wealth of the laborer, wrongs reuengement taker,
Patterne of concord, Lord of exercise,
And figure of that power the world did guise:
108
Deere Hand, most dulie honord in this
And therefore worthy to be well employde:
Yet know, that all that honor nothing is,
Compard with that which now must be enioyd:
So thinke in all the pleasures these haue showne
(Liken’d to this) thou wert but meere anoyde,
That all hands merits in thy selfe alone
With this one touch, haue more then recompence,
And therefore feele, with feare and reuerence.
109
See Cupids Alps which now thou must goe ouer,
Where snowe that thawes the Sunne doth euer lye:
Where thou maist plaine and feelingly discouer
The worlds fore-past, that flow’d with Milke and Honny:
Where, (like an Empresse seeing nothing wanting
That may her glorious child-bed bewtifiie)
Pleasure her selfe lyes big with issue panting:
Euer deliuered, yet with childe still growing,
Full of all blessings, yet all blisse bestowing.
110
This sayd, hee layde his hand vpon her side,
Which made her start like sparckles from a fire,
Or like Saturnia from th’Ambrosian pride
Of her morns slumber, frighted with admire
When loue layd young Alcydes to her brest,
So startled shee, not with a coy retire,
But with the tender temper shee was blest,
Prouing her sharpe, vnduld with handling yet,
Which keener edge on Quids longings set.
111
And feeling still, he sigh’d out this effect;
Alas why lent not heauen the soule a tongue?
Nor language, nor peculier dialect,
To make her high conceits as highly sung,
But that a fleshlie engine must vnfold
A spirituall notion; birth from Princes sprung
Pessants must nurse, free vertue waite on gold
And a profest though flattering enemie,
Must pleade my honor, and my libertie.
1
12
O nature how doost thou defame in this
Our humane honors? yoking men with beasts
And noblest mindes with slaues? thus beauties blisse,
Loue and all vertues that quick spirit feasts
Surfet on flesh; and thou that banquests mindes,
Most bounteous Mistresse, of thy dull-tongu’d guests
Reapst not due thanks; thus rude frailetie bindes
What thou giu’st wings; thus ioyes I feele in thee
Hang on thy lips and will not vtterd be.
113
Sweete touch the engine that loues bow doth bend,
The sence wherewith he feeles him deified,
The obiect whereto all his actions tend,
In all his blindenes his most pleasing guide,
For thy sake will I write the Art of loue,
Since thou doost blow his fire and feede his pride
Since in thy sphere his health and life doth moue,
For thee I hate who hate societie
And such as self-loue makes his slauerie.
114
In these dog-dayes how this contagion smoothers
The purest bloods with vertues diet fined
Nothing theyr owne, vnlesse they be some others
Spite of themselues, are in themselues confined
And liue so poore they are of all despised,
Theyr gifts, held down with scorne should be diuined,
And they like Mummers mask, vnknowne, vnprised:
A thousand meruailes mourne in some such brest
Would make a kinde and worthy Patrone blest.
115
To mee (deere Soueraigne) thou art Patronesse,
And I, with that thy graces haue infused,
Will make all fat and foggy braines confesse,
Riches may from a poore verse be deduced:
And that Golds loue shall leaue them groueling heere,
When thy perfections shall to heauen be Mused,
Deckt in bright verse, where Angels shall appeare
The praise of vertue, loue, and beauty singing,
Honor to Noblesse, shame to Auarice bringing.
116
Heere Ouid interrupted with the view
Of other Dames, who then the Garden painted,
Shrowded himselfe, and did as death eschew
All note by which his loues fame might be tainted:
And as when mighty Macedon had wun
The Monarchie of Earth, yet when hee fainted,
Grieu’d that no greater action could be doone,
And that there were no more worlds to subdue,
So loues defects, loues Conqueror did rue.
117
But as when expert Painters haue displaid,
To quickest life a Monarchs royall hand
Holding a Scepter, there is yet bewraide
But halfe his fingers; when we vnderstand
The rest not to be seene; and neuer blame
The Painters Art, in nicest censures skand:
So in the compassé of this curious frame,
Ouid well knew there was much more intended,
With whose omition none must be offended.
Intentio, animi actio.
Explicit conuiuium.
A CORONET FOR HIS MISTRESSE
Philosophie.
1
MUSES that sing loues sensuall Emperie,
And Louers kindling your enraged fires
At Cupids bonfires burning in the eye,
Blowne with the emptie breath of vaine desires,
You that prefer the painted Cabinet
Before the welthy Iewels it doth store yee,
That all your ioyes in dying figures set,
And staine the liuing substance of your glory,
Abiure those ioyes, abhor their memory,
And let my loue the honord subiect be
Of loue, and honors compleate historié;
Your eyes were neuer yet, let in to see
The maiestie and riches of the minde,
But dwell in darknes; for your God is blinde.
2
But dwell in darknes, for your God is blinde,
Humor poures downe such torrents on his eyes,
Which (as from Mountaines) fall on his base kind,
And eate your entrails out with exstasies.
Colour, (whose hands for faintnes are not felt)
Can binde your waxen thoughts in Adamant,
And with her painted fires your harts doth melt
Which beate your soules in peeces with a pant,
But my loue is the cordiall of soules
Teaching by passion what perfection is,
In whose fixt beauties shine the sacred scroules,
And long-lost records of your humane blisse
Spirit to flesh, and soule to spirit giuing,
Loue flowes not from my lyuer, but her liuing.
3
Loue flowes not from my liuer but her liuing,
From whence all stings to perfect loue are darted
All powre, and thought of pridefull lust depriuing,
Her life so pure and she so spotles harted,
In whome sits beautie with so firme a brow
That age, nor care, nor torment can contract it;
Heauens glories shining there, doe stuffe alow,
And vertues constant graces do compact it.
Her minde (the beame of God) drawes in the fires
Of her chast eyes, from all earths tempting fewell;
Which vpward lifts the lookes of her desires
And makes each precious thought in her a Iewell,
And as huge fires comprest more proudly flame
So her close beauties further blaze her fame.
4
So her close beauties further blaze her fame;
When from the world, into herselfe reflected
Shee lets her (shameles) glorie in her shame
Content for heau’en to be of earth reiected,
Shee thus deprest, knocks at Olympus gate,
And in th’vntainted Temple of her hart
Doth the diuorceles nuptials celebrate
Twixt God and her; where loues prophaned dart
Feedes the chast flames of Hymens firmament,
Wherein she sacrificeth, for her part;
The Robes, lookes, deedes, desires and whole descent
Of female natures, built in shops of art
Vertue is both the merrit and reward
Of her remou’d, and soule-infusde regard.
5
Of her remou’d, and soule-infusde regard,
With whose firme species (as with golden Lances)
She points her Hues field, (for all wars prepard)
And beares one chanceles minde, in all mischances;
Th’inuersed world that goes vpon her head
And with her wanton heeles doth kyck the sky,
My loue disdaynes, though she be honored
And without enuy sees her emperie,
Loaths all her toyes, and thoughts cupidinine,
Arandging in the army of her face
All vertues forces, to dismay loose eyne
That hold no quarter with renowne, or grace,
War to all frailetie; peace of all things pure
Her looke doth promise and her life assure.
6
Her looke doth promise and her life assure;
A right line, forcing a rebateles point,
In her high deedes, through euery thing obscure
To full perfection; not the weake disioint
Of female humors; nor the Protean rages
Of pied fac’d fashion, that doth shrink and swell,
Working poore men like waxen images
And makes them apish strangers where they dwell
Can alter her; titles of primacy,
Courtship of antick iestures, braineles iests,
Bloud without soule of false nobilitie,
Nor any folly that the world infests
Can alter her who with her constant guises
To liuing vertues turns the deadly vices.
7
To liuing vertues turns the deadly vices,
For couetous shee is, of all good parts,
Incontinent for still she showes entices
To consort with them sucking out theyr harts,
Proud, for she scorns prostrate humilitie,
And gluttonous in store of abstinence,
Drunk with extractions stild in feruencie
From contemplation, and true continence,
Burning in wrath, against impatience,
And sloth it selfe, for she will neuer rise
From that all-seeing trance (the band of sence)
Wherein in view of all soules skils she lyes.
No constancie to that her minde doth moue
Nor riches to the vertues of my loue.
8
Nor riches, to the vertues of my loue,
Nor Empire to her mighty gouernment:
Which fayre analisde in her beauties groue,
Showes Lawes for care, and Canons for content:
And as a purple tincture gyuen to Glasse
By cleere transmission of the Sunne doth taint
Opposed subiects: so my Mistresse face
Doth reuerence in her viewers browes depaint,
And like the Pansye, with a little vaile
Shee giues her inward worke the greater grace;
Which my lines imitate, though much they fade
Her gyfts so hie, and tymes conceits so base:
Her vertues then aboue my verse must raise her,
For words want Art, and Art wants words to praise her.
9
For words want Art, & Art wants words to praise her,
Yet shall my actiue and industrious pen,
Winde his sharpe forheade, through those parts that saise her,
And register her worth past rarest women.
Her selfe shall be my Muse; that well will knowe
Her proper inspirations: and aswage
(With her deere loue) the wrongs my fortunes show,
Which to my youth, binde hartlesse griefe in age,
Her selfe shall be my comfort and my riches,
And all my thoughts I will on her conuert,
Honor, and Error, which the world bewitches,
Shall still crowne fooles, and tread vpon desert,
And neuer shall my friendlesse verse enuie
Muses that Fames loose feathers beautifie.
10
Muses that Fames loose feathers beautifie,
And such as scorne to tread the Theater,
As ignorant: the seede of memorie
Haue most inspirde, and showne theyr glories there
To noblest wits, and men of highest doome,
That for the kingly Lawrell bent affayre;
The Theaters of Athens and of Rome
Haue beene the Crownes, and not the base empayre.
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 8
