Collected Works of Michael Drayton
Page 54
When first attracted by thy heauenly eyes,
Edwards intemperate desires, with which he was wholy ouercome, how tragically they in his ofspring were punished, is vniuersally known. A mirrhor representing their ouersight, that rather leaue their children what to possesse, then what to imitate.
How silly is the Polander and Dane,
To bring vs Christall from the frozen maine.
Alluding to their opinions, who imagine Christall to be a kind of Ice, and therefore it is likely, they who come from the frozen parts, should bring great store of that transparent stone, which is thought to be congealed with extreame cold. Whether Christall be Ice or some other liquor, I omit to dispute, yet by the examples of Amber and Corall there may be such an induration, for S•lmus out of Plinie mentioneth, that in the Northerly Region a yellow ielly is taken vp out of the Sea at low tides, which he calls Succinum, we Amber; so likewise out of the Ligusticke deepe, a part of the Meridian Sea, a greenish stalke is gathered, which hardned in the ayre, becomes to be Corrall, eyther white or red. Amber notwithstanding is thought to drop out of trees, as appeares by Martials Epigram.
Et latet, et lucet Phaethontide gutta,
Vt videantur apis nectare clausa suo,
Dignum tantorum pretium tulit ille laborum,
Credibile est ipsam sic voluisse mor•.
To behold a Bee inclosd in Electrum, is not so rare as that a boyes throat should be cut with the fall of an Icesicle, the which Epigram is excellent, the 18. lib. 4. He calls it Paethontis gutta, because of that fable which Ouid rehearseth, concerning the Heliades, or Phaetons sisters metamorphozed into those trees, whose gum is Amber, where flies alighting, are oftentimes tralucently imprisoned.
The Epistle of Shores wife to King Edward the fourth.
AS the weak child, that from the mothers wing,
Is taught the Lutes delicious fingering,
At euery strings soft touch, is mou’d with feare,
Noting his maisters curious listning eare;
whose trembling hand, at euery straine bewraies,
In what doubt he, his new set lesson plaies;
As this poore child, so sit I to indite,
At euery word still quaking as I write.
Would I had led an humble shepheards life,
Nor knowne the name of Shores admired wife,
And liu’d with them in Country fields that range,
Nor seen the golde¯ Cheap, nor glittering Change
To stand a Comet gaz’d at in the skies,
Subiect to all tongues, obiect to all eyes,
Oft haue I heard my beauty praisd of many,
But neuer yet so much admir’d of any;
A Princes Eagle-eye to finde out that,
which vulgar sights doe sildome wonder at,
Makes me to thinke affection flatters sight,
Or in the obiect some thing exquisite.
To housed beauty, sildome stoop’s report,
Fame must attend on that which liues in Court.
What Swan of great Apollos brood doth sing
To vulgar loue, in courtly Sonetting?
Or what immortall Poets sugred pen,
Attends the glory of a Cittizen?
Oft haue I wondred what should blinde your eye,
Or what so far seduced Maiestie,
That hauing choyse of beauties so diuine,
Amongst the most to choose this least of mine?
More glorious sunnes adorne faire Londons pride,
Then all rich Englands continent beside;
Who takes in hand to make account of this,
May number Rumneys flowers, or Isis fish;
who doth frequent our Temples, walkes, and streets,
Noting the sundry beauties that he meets,
Thinks not that Nature left the wide world poore,
And made this place the Chequer of her store?
As heauen and earth were lately fallne at iarrs,
And growne to vying wonders, dropping starrs.
That if but some one beautie should incite,
Some sacred Muse, some rauisht spirit to write,
Heere might he fetch that true Promethian fire,
As after ages should his lines admire;
Gathering the honny from the choysest flowers,
Scorning the wither’d weedes in Country bowers.
Heere in this Garden (onely) springs the Rose,
In euery common hedge the Bramble growes,
Nor are wee so turn’d Neapolitan,
That might incite some foule-mouth Mantuan,
To all the worlde to lay out our defects,
And haue iust cause to raile vpon our sexe;
To pranck old wrinckles vp in new attire,
To alter natures course, proue time a lyer,
Abusing fate, and heauens iust doome reuerse,
On beauties graue to set a Crimson hearse,
with a deceitfull foyle to lay a ground,
To make a glasse to seeme a Diamond.
Nor cannot without hazard of our Name,
In fashion follow the Venetian Dame,
Nor the fantastick French to imitate,
Attir’d halfe Spanish, halfe Italionate;
Nor wast, not curle, body nor brow adorne,
That is in Florence, or in Genoa borne.
But with vaine boasts how witlesse fond am I,
Thus to draw on mine owne indignitie?
And what though married when I was but young,
Before I knew what did to loue belong,
Yet he which now’s possessed of the roome,
Cropt beauties flower when it was in the bloome,
An• goes away enriched with the store,
whilst others gleane, where he hath reapt before;
And he dares sweare that I am true and iust,
And shall I then deceiue his honest trust?
Or what strange hope should make you to assaile,
where strongest battery neuer could preuaile?
Belike you thinke that I repulst the rest,
To leaue a King the conquest of my brest,
Or haue thus long preseru’d my selfe from all,
A Monarch now should glory in my fall.
Yet rather let me die the vildest death,
Then liue to draw that sinne-polluted breath;
But our kinde harts, mens teares cannot abide,
And we least angry oft, when most we chide;
Too well know men what our creation made vs,
And nature too well taught them to inuade vs.
They know but too well, how, what, when, and where,
To write, to speake, to sue, and to forbeare,
By signes, by sighes, by motions, and by teares,
when vowes should serue, when othes, when smiles, when prayers,
what one delight our humors most doth moue,
Onely in that you make vs nourish loue.
If any naturall blemish blot our face,
You doe protest it giues our beautie grace,
And what attire we most are vsd to weare,
That of all other excellent’st you sweare.
And if we walke, or sit, or stand, or lie,
It must resemble some one Deitie,
And what you know we take delight to heare,
That are you euer sounding in our eare;
And yet so shamelesse when you tempt vs thus,
To lay the fault on beauty, and on vs.
Romes wanton Ouid did those rules impart,
O that your nature should behelp’d with Art.
Who would haue thought, a King that cares to raigne,
Inforc’d by loue, so Poet-like should faine?
To say that beautie, Times sterne rage to shun,
In my cheekes (Lillies) hid her from the sun;
And when she meant to triumph in her May,
Made that her East, and heere she broke her day,
And swear’st that Sommer still is in my sight,
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And but where I am, all the world is night;
As though the fayr’st, ere since the world began,
To me, a sun-burnt, base Egiptian;
But yet I know more then I meane to tell,
(O would to God you knew it not too well)
That women oft theyr most admirers raise,
Though publiquely not flattering theyr owne prayse.
Our churlish husbands, which our youth enioy’d,
who with our dainties haue theyr stomacks cloyd,
Doe loath our smooth hand with theyr lips to feele,
T’enrich our fauours, by our beds to kneele;
At our commaund to waite, to send, to goe,
As euery howre our amorous seruaunts doe;
which makes a stolne kisse often we bestow,
In earnest of a greater good we owe;
When he all day torments vs with a frowne,
Yet sports with Venus in a bed of Downe;
whose rude embracement, but too ill beseemes
Her span-broade wast, her white and daintie limmes,
And yet still preaching abstinence of meate,
when he himselfe, of euery dish will eate.
Blame you our husbands then, if they denie
Our publique walking, our loose libertie,
If wi•h exception still they vs debar,
The circuite of the publique Theater;
To heare the smooth-tongu’d Poets Syren vaine,
Sporting in his lasciuious Comick scene;
Or the young wanton wits, when they applaude
The slie perswasions of some subtile Baude,
Or passionate Tragedian in his rage,
Acting a loue-sicke passion on the stage;
when though abroade restrayning vs to rome,
They very hardly keepe vs safe at home,
And oft are touch’d with feare and inward griefe,
Knowing rich prizes soonest tempt a theefe.
What sports haue we, whereon our minds to set?
Our dog, our Parrat, or our Marmuzet;
Or once, a weeke to walke into the field;
Small is the pleasure that those toyes doe yeeld,
But to this griefe, a medicine you apply,
To cure restraint with that sweet libertie;
And soueraigntie, (ô that bewitching thing)
Yet made more great, by promise of a King;
And more, that honour which doth most intice
The holiest Nunne, and she that’s nere so nice.
Thus still we striue, yet ouer-come at length,
For men want mercy, & poore women strength:
Yet graunt, that we could meaner men resist,
when kings once come, they conquer as they list.
Thou art the cause Shore pleaseth not my sight,
That his embraces giue me no delight;
Thou art the cause I to my selfe an strange,
Thy comming, is my full, thy set, my change.
Long winter nights be minutes, if thou here,
Short minuts if thou absent, be a yeere.
And thus by strength thou art become my sate,
And mak’st me loue, euen in the midst of hate.
Notes of the Chronicle Historie.
Would I had led an humble Shepheards life,
Nor knowne the name of Shores admired
TWO or three Poems written by sundry men, womans beautie; whom that ornament of more particular glory, Sir Thomas Moore, very highly her beauty, she being aliue in his time, though Her stature was meane, her haire of a dark full, her eye gra•, delicate harmony beeing betwixt each parts proportion, and each proportions colour, her body fat, white, & smooth, her countenaunce cheerefull, and like to her condition. That picture which I haue seene of hers, was such as she rose out of her bed in the morning, hauing nothing on but a rich mantle cast vnder one arme ouer her shoulder, and sitting in a chayre on which her naked arme did lie. What her fathers name was, or where she was borne is not certainly knowne; but Shore a young man of right good person, wealth, and behauiour, abandoned her bed after the King had made her his Concubine. Richard the third causing her to do open penanc• in Paules Church-yarde, commaunded that no man should relieue her, which the tyrant did not so much for his hatred to sinne, but that by making his brothers life odious, he might couer his horrible trea•on the more cunningly.
May number Rumneys flowers or Isis fish.
Rumney is that famous Marsh in Kent, at whose side Rie a Hauen-towne dooth stand. Heereof the excellent English Antiquarie Maister Camden, and Maister Lambert in his preambulation do make mention, and Marishes are co¯monly called those low grounds, which abut vpon the sea, and from the Latine word are so denominated. Isis is here vsed for Thamesis by a Senecdochicall kind of speech or by a Poeticall libertie in vsing one for another, for it is said that Thamesis is compounded of Tame and Isis, making when they are mette, that renowned water running by London, a Citty much more renowned then that water: which beeing plentifull of fish, is the cause also why all things else are plentifull therein. Moreouer, I am perswaded that there is no Riuer in the world beholds more stately buildings on eyther side cleane through, then the Thames. Much is reported of the Graund Canale in Venice, for that the Fronts on eyther side are so gorgeous.
That might intice some foule-mouth’d Mantuan,
Mantuan a pastorall Poet in one of his Eglogs bitterly inucyeth against woman-kinde, some of the which by way of an Appendex, might be heere inserted, seeing the fantasticke & insolent humors of many of that sexe deserue much sharper phisick, were it not that they are growne wiser, then to amende, for such an idle Poets speech as Mantuan, yea, or for Euripides himselfe, or Senecas inflexible Hippolitus.
The circuite of the publique Theater.
Ouid, a most fit Authour for so dissolute a Sectarie, calls that place Chastities ship wracke, for though Shores wife wantonly pleade for libertie, which is the true humor of a Curtizan, yet much more is the prayse of modestie then of such libertie. Howbeit the Vestall Nunnes had seates assigned them in the Romaine Theater, whereby it should appeare, it was counted no impeachment to modestie; though they offending therein were buried quicke: a sharpe lawe for them, who may say as Shores wife doth.
When though abroad restrayning vs to rome,
They very hardly keepe vs safe at home.
FINIS.
To the Right Worshipfull Sir Henry Goodere of Powlesworth Knight.
SIR, this Poeme of mine, which I imparted to you, at my being with you at your lodging at Lo¯don in May last, brought at length to perfection, (emboldned by your wonted fauors) I aduenture to make you Patron of. Thus Sir you see I haue aduentured to the world, with what like or dislike, I know not, if it please, (which I much doubt of) I pray you then be partaker of that which I shall esteeme not my least good; if dislike, it shal lessen some part of my griefe, if it please you to allow but of my loue: howsoeuer, I pray you accept it as kindly as I offer it, which though without many protestations, yet (I assure you) with much desire of your honor. Thus vntil such time as I may in some more larger measure make knowne my loue to the happy & generous familie of the Gooderes, (to which I confesse my selfe to be beholding to, for the most part of my education) I wish you al happinesse.
Mich: Drayton.
Mary the French Queene, to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolke.
THE ARGUMENT.
Mary, the daughter of that renowned Prince King Henry the seauenth being very young at her Fathers death, after by her brother King Henry the eyght, was giuen in marriage to Lewes King of Fraunce, beeing a man olde and decrepit; This faire and beautifull Lady, long before had placed her affection on Charles Brandon, Duke of suffolke, a braue and couragious young Gentleman, and an especiall fauorite of the King her brother, and a man raised by him. King Lewes, the husband of this beautifull Queene, liued not long after he was married; and Charles Brandon hauing commission from the King to bring her backe into England, but being delayed by some sinister me
anes, the French Queene writeth this Epistle, to hasten the Duke forward on his intended voyage to Fraunce.
SVCH health from heauen my selfe may wish to mee,
Such health from Fraunce, Queen Mary sends to thee,
Brandon, how long mak’st thou excuse to stay,
And know’st how ill we women brooke delay?
If one poore Channell thus can part vs two,
Tell me (vnkind) what would an Ocean do?
Leander had an Hellespont to swim,
Yet this from Hero could not hinder him;
His barke (poore soule) his breast, his armes, his oares:
But thou a ship, to land thee on our shores;
And opposite to famous Kent doth lie,
The pleasant fields of flowry Picardie,
where our faire Callice, walled in her sands,
In kenning of the clifie Douer stands.
Heere is no Beldame Nurse to pout or lower,
when wantoning, we reuell in my Tower;
Nor neede I top my Turret with a light,
To guide thee to me, as thou swim’st by night;
Compar’d with me, wert thou but halfe so kind,
Thy sighs should stuffe thy sailes, though wanting wind;
But thy breast is becalm’d, thy sighs be slacke,
And mine too stiffe, and blow thy broad sailes backe.
But thou wilt say, that I should blame the stood;
Because the wind so full against thee stood;
Nay blame it not, it did so roughly blow,
For it did chide thee, for thou wast so slow:
For it came not to keepe thee in the Bay,
But came from me, to bid thee come away.
But that thou vainely lett’st occasion slide,