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The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

Page 172

by George Chapman


  ‭ Advanced to her. Where, soon as enter’d, she

  ‭ The shining gates shut; and the Graces three

  ‭ Wash’d, and with oils of everlasting scent

  ‭ Bathed, as became, her deathless lineament.

  ‭ Then her ambrosian mantle she assum’d,

  ‭ With rich and odoriferous airs perfum’d.

  ‭ Which being put on, and all her trims beside

  ‭ Fair, and with all allurements amplified,

  ‭ The all-of-gold-made laughter-loving Dame

  ‭ Left odorous Cyprus, and for Troy became

  ‭ A swift contendress, her pass cutting all

  ‭ Along the clouds, and made her instant fall

  ‭ On fountful Ida, that her mother-breasts

  ‭ Gives to the preyful brood of savage beasts.

  ‭ And through the hill she went the ready way

  ‭ T’ Anchises’ oxstall, where did fawn and play

  ‭ About her blessed feet wolves grisly-gray,

  ‭ Terrible lions, many a mankind bear,

  ‭ And lybberds swift, insatiate of red deer.

  ‭ Whose sight so pleas’d, that, ever as she past,

  ‭ Through every beast a kindly love she cast,

  ‭ That, in their dens obscured with shadows deep,

  ‭ Made all, distinguish’d in kind couples, sleep.

  ‭ And now she reach’d the rich pavilion

  ‭ Of the heroë, in whom heavens had shown

  ‭ A fair and goodly composition,

  ‭ And whom she in his oxstall found, alone,

  ‭ His oxen feeding in fat pastures by,

  ‭ He walking up and down, sounds clear and high

  ‭ From his harp striking. Then before him she

  ‭ Stood like a virgin, that invincibly

  ‭ Had borne her beauties; yet alluringly

  ‭ Bearing her person, lest his ravish’d eye

  ‭ Should chance t’ affect him with a stupid fear.

  ‭ Anchises seeing her, all his senses were

  ‭ With wonder stricken, and high-taken heeds

  ‭ Both of her form, brave stature, and rich weeds.

  ‭ For, for a veil, she shin’d in an attire

  ‭ That cast a radiance past the ray of fire.

  ‭ Beneath which wore she, girt to her, a gown

  ‭ Wrought all with growing-rose-buds, reaching down

  ‭ T’ her slender smalls, which buskins did divine,

  ‭ Such as taught Thetis’ silver feet to shine.

  ‭ Her soft white neck rich carquenets embraced,

  ‭ Bright, and with gold in all variety graced,

  ‭ That to her breasts let down lay there and shone,

  ‭ As, at her joyful full, the rising Moon.

  ‭ Her sight show’d miracles. Anchises’ heart

  ‭ Love took into his hand, and made him part

  ‭ With these high salutations; “Joy, O Queen!

  ‭ Whoever of the Blest thy beauties been

  ‭ That light these entries; or the Deity

  ‭ That darts affecteth; or that gave the Eye

  ‭ Of heaven his heat and lustre; or that moves

  ‭ The hearts of all with all-commanding loves;

  ‭ Or generous Themis; or the blue-eyed Maid;

  ‭ Or of the Graces any that are laid

  ‭ With all the Gods in comparable scales,

  ‭ And whom fame up to immortality calls;

  ‭ Or any of the Nymphs, that unshorn groves,

  ‭ Or that this fair hill-habitation, loves,

  ‭ Or valleys flowing with earth’s fattest goods,

  ‭ Or fountains pouring forth eternal floods!

  ‭ Say, which of all thou art, that in some place

  ‭ Of circular prospect, for thine eyes’ dear grace,

  ‭ I may an altar build, and to thy pow’rs

  ‭ Make sacred all the year’s devoted hours,

  ‭ With consecrations sweet and opulent.

  ‭ Assur’d whereof, be thy benign mind bent

  ‭ To these wish’d blessings of me: Give me parts

  ‭ Of chief attraction in Trojan hearts;

  ‭ And, after, give me the refulgency

  ‭ Of most renown’d and rich posterity;

  ‭ Long, and free life, and heaven’s sweet light as long;

  ‭ The people’s blessings, and a health so strong

  ‭ That no disease it let my life engage,

  ‭ Till th’ utmost limit of a human age.”

  ‭ To this Jove’s Seed this answer gave again;

  ‭ “Anchises! Happiest of the human strain!

  ‭ I am no Goddess! Why, a thrall to death

  ‭ Think’st thou like those that immortality breathe?

  ‭ A woman brought me forth; my father’s name

  ‭ Was Otreüs, if ever his high fame

  ‭ Thine ears have witness’d, for he govern’d all

  ‭ The Phrygian state, whose every town a wall

  ‭ Impregnable embrac’d. Your tongue, you hear,

  ‭ I speak so well, that in my natural sphere

  ‭ (As I pretend) it must have taken prime.

  ‭ A woman, likewise, of the Trojan clime

  ‭ Took of me, in her house, the nurse’s care

  ‭ From my dear mother’s bosom; and thus are

  ‭ My words of equal accent with your own.

  ‭ How here I come, to make the reason known,

  ‭ Argicides, that bears the golden rod,

  ‭ Transferr’d me forcibly from my abode

  ‭ Made with the maiden train of Her that joys

  ‭ In golden shafts, and loves so well the noise

  ‭ Of hounds and hunters (heaven’s pure-living Pow’r)

  ‭ Where many a nymph and maid of mighty dow’r

  ‭ Chaste sports employ’d, all circled with a crown

  ‭ Of infinite multitude, to see so shown

  ‭ Our maiden pastimes. Yet, from all the fair

  ‭ Of this so forceful concourse, up in air

  ‭ The golden-rod-sustaining Argus’-Guide

  ‭ Rapt me in sight of all, and made me ride

  ‭ Along the clouds with him, enforcing me

  ‭ Through many a labour of mortality,

  ‭ Through many an unbuilt region, and a rude,

  ‭ Where savage beasts devour’d preys warm and crude,

  ‭ And would not let my fears take one foot’s tread

  ‭ On Her by whom are all lives comforted,

  ‭ But said my maiden state must grace the bed

  ‭ Of king Anchises, and bring forth to thee

  ‭ Issue as fair as of divine degree.

  ‭ Which said, and showing me thy moving grace,

  ‭ Away flew he up to th’ Immortal Race,

  ‭ And thus came I to thee; Necessity,

  ‭ With her steel stings, compelling me t’ apply

  ‭ To her high pow’r my will. But you must I

  ‭ Implore by Jove, and all the reverence due

  ‭ To your dear parents, who, in bearing you,

  ‭ Can bear no mean sail, lead me home to them

  ‭ An untouch’d maid, being brought up in th’ extreme

  ‭ Of much too cold simplicity to know

  ‭ The fiery cunnings that in Venus glow.

  ‭ Show me to them then, and thy brothers born,

  ‭ I shall appear none that parts disadorn,

  ‭ But such as well may serve a brother’s wife,

  ‭ And show them now, even to my future life,

  ‭ If such or no my present will extend.

  ‭ To horse-breed-vary’ng Phrygia likewise send,

  ‭ T’ inform my sire and mother of my state,

  ‭ That live for me extreme disconsolate;

  ‭ Who gold enough, and well-woven weeds, will give.

  ‭ All whose rich gifts in my amends receive.

&nbs
p; ‭ All this perform’d, and celebration then

  ‭ Of honour’d nuptials, that by God and men

  ‭ Are held in reverence.” All this while she said,

  ‭ Into his bosom jointly she convey’d

  ‭ The fires of love; when, all-enamour’d, he

  ‭ In these terms answer’d: “If mortality

  ‭ Confine thy fortunes, and a woman were

  ‭ Mother to those attractions that appear

  ‭ In thy admir’d form, thy great father given

  ‭ High name of Otreüs; and the Spy of heaven

  ‭ (Immortal Mercury) th’ enforceful cause

  ‭ That made thee lose the prize of that applause

  ‭ That modesty immaculate virgins gives,

  ‭ My wife thou shalt be call’d through both our lives.

  ‭ Nor shall the pow’rs of men nor Gods withhold

  ‭ My fiery resolution to enfold

  ‭ Thy bosom in mine arms; which here I vow

  ‭ To firm performance, past delay, and now.

  ‭ Nor, should Apollo with his silver bow

  ‭ Shoot me to instant death, would I forbear

  ‭ To do a deed so full of cause so dear.

  ‭ For with a heaven-sweet woman I will lie,

  ‭ Though straight I stoop the house of Dis, and die.”

  ‭ This said, he took her hand, and she took way

  ‭ With him, her bright eyes casting round; whose stay

  ‭ She stuck upon a bed, that was before

  ‭ Made for the king, and wealthy coverings wore.

  ‭ On which bears’ hides and big-voic’d lions’ lay,

  ‭ Whose preyful lives the king had made his prey,

  ‭ Hunting th’ Idalian hills. This bed when they

  ‭ Had both ascended, first he took from her

  ‭ The fiery weed, that was her utmost wear;

  ‭ Unbutton’d her next rosy robe; and loos’d

  ‭ The girdle that her slender waist enclos’d;

  ‭ Unlac’d her buskins; all her jewelry

  ‭ Took from her neck and breasts, and all laid by

  ‭ Upon a golden-studded chair of state.

  ‭ Th’ amaze of all which being remov’d, even Fate

  ‭ And council of the equal Gods gave way

  ‭ To this, that with a deathless Goddess lay

  ‭ A deathful man; since, what his love assum’d,

  ‭ Not with his conscious knowledge was presum’d.

  ‭ Now when the shepherds and the herdsmen, all,

  ‭ Turn’d from their flow’ry pasture to their stall,

  ‭ With all their oxen, fat and frolic sheep,

  ‭ Venus into Anchises cast a sleep,

  ‭ Sweet and profound; while with her own hands now

  ‭ With her rich weeds she did herself endow;

  ‭ But so distinguish’d, that he clear might know

  ‭ His happy glories; then (to her desire

  ‭ Her heavenly person put in trims entire)

  ‭ She by the bed stood of the well-built stall,

  ‭ Advanc’d her head to state celestial,

  ‭ And in her cheeks arose the radiant hue

  ‭ Of rich-crown’d Venus to apparent view.

  ‭ And then she rous’d him from his rest, and said:

  ‭ “Up, my Dardanides, forsake thy bed.

  ‭ What pleasure, late employ’d, lets humour steep

  ‭ Thy lids in this inexcitable sleep?

  ‭ Wake, and now say, if I appear to thee

  ‭ Like her that first thine eyes conceited me.”

  ‭ This started him from sleep, though deep and dear,

  ‭ And passing promptly he enjoy’d his ear.

  ‭ But when his eye saw Venus’ neck and eyes,

  ‭ Whose beauties could not bear the counterprise

  ‭ Of any other, down his own eyes fell,

  ‭ Which pallid fear did from her view repell,

  ‭ And made him, with a main respect beside,

  ‭ Turn his whole person from her state, and hide

  ‭ (With his rich weed appos’d) his royal face,

  ‭ These wing’d words using: “When, at first, thy grace

  ‭ Mine eyes gave entertainment, well I knew

  ‭ Thy state was deified; but thou told’st not true;

  ‭ And therefore let me pray thee (by thy love

  ‭ Borne to thy father, Ægis-bearing Jove)

  ‭ That thou wilt never let me live to be

  ‭ An abject, after so divine degree

  ‭ Taken in fortune, but take ruth on me,

  ‭ For any man that with a Goddess lies,

  ‭ Of interest in immortalities,

  ‭ Is never long-liv’d.” She replied: “Forbear,

  ‭ O happiest of mortal men, this fear,

  ‭ And rest assured, that (not for me, at least)

  ‭ Thy least ills fear fits; no, nor for the rest

  ‭ Of all the Blessed, for thou art their friend;

  ‭ And so far from sustaining instant end,

  ‭ That to thy long-enlarg’d life there shall spring

  ‭ Amongst the Trojans a dear son, and king,

  ‭ To whom shall many a son, and son’s son, rise

  ‭ In everlasting great posterities;

  ‭ His name Æneas; therein keeping life,

  ‭ For ever, in my much-conceited grief,

  ‭ That I, immortal, fell into the bed

  ‭ Of one whose blood mortality must shed.

  ‭ But rest thou comforted, and all the race

  ‭ That Troy shall propagate, in this high grace:

  ‭ That, past all races else, the Gods stand near

  ‭ Your glorious nation, for the forms ye bear,

  ‭ And natures so ingenuous and sincere.

  ‭ For which, the great-in-counsels (Jupiter)

  ‭ Your gold-lock’d Ganymedes did transfer

  ‭ (In rapture far from men’s depressed fates)

  ‭ To make him consort with our Deified States,

  ‭ And scale the tops of the Saturnian skies,

  ‭ He was so mere a marvel in their eyes.

  ‭ And therefore from a bowl of gold he fills

  ‭ Red nectar, that the rude distension kills

  ‭ Of winds that in your human stomachs breed.

  ‭ But then did languor on the liver feed

  ‭ Of Tros, his father, that was king of Troy,

  ‭ And ever did his memory employ 2

  ‭ With loss of his dear beauty so bereaven,

  ‭ Though with a sacred whirlwind rapt to heaven.

  ‭ But Jove, in pity of him, saw him given

  ‭ Good compensation, sending by Heaven’s Spy

  ‭ White-swift-hov’d horse, that Immortality

  ‭ Had made firm-spirited; and had, beside,

  ‭ Hermes to see his ambassy supplied

  ‭ With this vow’d bounty (using all at large

  ‭ That his unalter’d counsels gave in charge)

  ‭ That he himself should immortality breathe,

  ‭ Expert of age and woe as well as death.

  ‭ “This ambassy express’d, he mourn’d no more,

  ‭ But up with all his inmost mind he bore,

  ‭ Joying that he, upon his swift-hov’d horse,

  ‭ Should be sustain’d in an eternal course.”

  ‭ “So did the golden-throned Aurora raise,

  ‭ Into her lap, another that the praise

  ‭ Of an immortal fashion had in fame,

  ‭ And of your nation bore the noble name,

  ‭ (His title Tithon) who, not pleased with her,

  ‭ As she his lovely person did transfer,

  ‭ To satisfy him, she bade ask of Jove

  ‭ The gift of an Immortal for her love.

  ‭ Jove gave, and bound it with his bowed brow,

  ‭ Performing to the utmost point his vow.
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  ‭ Fool that she was, that would her love engage,

  ‭ And not as long ask from the bane of age

  ‭ The sweet exemption, and youth’s endless flow’r!

  ‭ Of which as long as both the grace and pow’r

  ‭ His person entertain’d, she loved the man,

  ‭ And (at the fluents of the ocean

  ‭ Near Earth’s extreme bounds) dwelt with him; but when

  ‭ According to the course of aged men)

  ‭ On his fair head, and honourable beard,

  ‭ His first grey hairs to her light eyes appear’d,

  ‭ She left his bed, yet gave him still for food

  ‭ The Gods’ ambrosia, and attire as good.

  ‭ Till even the hate of age came on so fast

  ‭ That not a lineament of his was grac’d

  ‭ With pow’r of motion, nor did still sustain,

  ‭ Much less, the vigour had t’ advance a vein,

  ‭ The virtue lost in each exhausted limb,

  ‭ That at his wish before would answer him;

  ‭ All pow’rs so quite decay’d, that when he spake

  ‭ His voice no perceptible accent brake.

  ‭ Her counsel then thought best to strive no more,

  ‭ But lay him in his bed and lock his door.

  ‭ Such an Immortal would not I wish thee,

  ‭ T’ extend all days so to eternity.

  ‭ But if, as now, thou couldst perform thy course

  ‭ In grace of form, and all corporeal force,

  ‭ To an eternal date, thou then shouldst bear

  ‭ My husband’s worthy name, and not a tear

  ‭ Should I need rain, for thy deserts declin’d,

  ‭ From my all-clouded bitterness of mind.

  ‭ But now the stern storm of relentless age

  ‭ Will quickly circle thee, that waits t’ engage

  ‭ All men alike, even loathsomeness, and bane

  ‭ Attending with it, every human wane,

  ‭ Which even the Gods hate. Such a penance lies

  ‭ Impos’d on flesh and blood’s infirmities!

  ‭ Which I myself must taste in great degree,

  ‭ And date as endless, for consorting thee.

  ‭ All the Immortals with my opprobry

  ‭ Are full by this time; on their hearts so lie,

  ‭ (Even to the sting of fear) my cunnings us’d,

  ‭ And wiving conversations infus’d

  ‭ Into the bosoms of the best of them

  ‭ With women, that the frail and mortal stream

  ‭ Doth daily ravish. All this long since done.

  ‭ Which now no more, but with effusion

  ‭ Of tears, I must in heaven so much as name,

  ‭ I have so forfeited in this my fame,

  ‭ And am impos’d pain of so great a kind

  ‭ For so much erring from a Goddess’ mind.

 

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