and Verse, Matter and Words, are like his_ [SIDNEY'S] _Mistress's eyes!
one still excelling another, and without corrival! or to come home to
the vulgar's element, like friendly SHAKE-SPEARE's_ Tragedies, _where
the Comedian rides, when the Tragedian stands on tiptoe. Faith, it
should please all, like Prince_ HAMLET! _But, in sadness, then it were
to be feared, he would run mad. In sooth, I will not be moonsick, to
please! nor out of my wits, though I displease all! What? Poet! are you
in Passion, or out of Love? This is as strange as true!_
_Well, well! if I seem mystical or tyrannical; whether I be a fool or
a Lord's-Ingle; all's one! If you be angry, you are not well advised!
I will tell you, it is an Indian humour I have snuffed up from Divine
Tobacco! and it is most gentlemanlike, to puff it out at any place or
person!_
_I'll no_ Epistle! _It were worse than one of HERCULES' labours! but
will conclude honesty is a man's best virtue. And but for the Lord
Mayor and the two Sheriffs, the Inns of Court, and many Gallants
elsewhere, this last year might have been burned! As for MOMUS (carp
and bark who will!), if the_ noble Ass _bray not, I am as good a Knight
Poet, as_ Ætatis suæ, _Master_ An. Dom.'s _son-in-law._
_Let your critic look to the rowels of his spurs, the pad of his
saddle, and the jerk of his wand! then let him ride me and my rhymes
down, as hotly as he would. I care not! We shall meet and be friends
again, with the breaking of a spear or two! and who would do less, for
a fair Lady?_
_There I leave you, where you shall ever find me!_
* * * * *
_Passionate DAIPHANTUS, your loving subject, Gives you to understand,
he is a_ Man in Print, _and it is enough he hath undergone a Pressing,
though for your sakes and for Ladies: protesting for this poor infant
of his brain, as it was the price of his virginity, born into the world
with tears: so (but for a many his dear friends that took much pains
for it) it had died, and never been laughed at! and that if Truth have
wrote less than Fiction; yet it is better to err in Knowledge than in
Judgement! Also, if he have caught up half a line of any other's, it
was out of his memory, not of any ignorance!_
_Why he dedicates it to All, and not to any Particular, as his Mistress
or so? His answer is, He is better born, than to creep into women's
favours, and ask their leave afterwards._
_Also he desireth you to help to correct such errors of the Printer,
which (because the Author is dead, or was out of the City) hath been
committed. And it was his folly, or the Stationer's, you had not an_
Epistle _to the purpose._
_Thus like a lover, wooes he for your favour;
Which, if you grant, then_ Omnia vincit Amor.
[Illustration]
_DAIPHANTUS._
Proem
[Illustration]
I sing the old World in an infant story!
I sing the new World in an ancient ditty!
I sing this World; yes, this World's shame and glory!
I sing a Medley of rigour and of pity!
I sing the Court's, City's, and the Country's fashions!
Yet sing I but of Love and her strange Passions!
I sing that anthem lovers sigh in sadness!
I sing sweet times of joys in wo[e]-ven verses!
I sing those lines, I once did act in madness!
I sing and weep! (tears follow birth and hearses!)
I sing a _Dirge!_ a Fury did indite it!
I sing Myself! whilst I myself do write it.
I invocate, to grace my Artless labour,
The faithful goddess, men call MEMORY
(True Poet's treasure, and their Wit's best favour);
To deck my Muse with truest poesy!
Though Love write well, yet Passion blinds th'affection.
_Man ne'er rules right, that's in the least subjection._
Sweet Memory! Soul's life, new life increasing!
The Eye of Justice! Tongue of Eloquence!
The Lock of Learning! Fountain never ceasing!
The Cabinet of Secrets! Caske[t] of Sense!
Which governest Nature, teacheth Man his awe!
That art all Conscience, and yet rul'st by Law!
Bless thou, this Love Song-Air of my best wishes!
(Thou art the Parent nourisheth Desire!)
Blow, gentle winds! safe land me at my blisses!
Love still mounts high, though lovers not aspire.
My Poem's Truth! Fond poets feign at pleasure!
A loving subject is a Prince's treasure.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE PASSIONS OF LOVE.
[Illustration]
In Venice fair, the city most admired;
Their lived a Gallant, who DAIPHANTUS hight.
Right nobly born, well lettered, loved, desired
Of every Courtier in their most delight:
So full of pleasance, that he seemed to be
A man begot in VENUS' infancy.
His face was fair, full comely was his feature:
Lipped like the cherry, with a wanton's eye:
A MARS in anger, yet a VENUS' creature;
Made part of CYNTHIA, most of MERCURY:
A pitied soul, so made of Love and Hate,
Though still beloved, in love unfortunate.
Thus made by Nature, Fortune did conspire
To balance him, with weight of CUPID'S wings;
Passant in Love, yet oft in great Desire;
Sudden in Love, not staid in anything.
He courted all, not loved: and much did strive
To die for Love, yet never meant to wive!
As Nature made him fair, so likewise witty;
(She not content) his thoughts thus very fickle.
Fortune that gained him, placed him in this city,
To wheel his head, which she had made most tickle.
Fortune made him beloved, and so distraught him!
His reins let forth, he fell; and CUPID caught him.
Not far from Venice, in an Abbey fair,
Well walled about, two worthy Ladies dwelt:
Who virgins were, so sweet and debonair,
The ground they trod on, of their odour smelt.
Two virgin Sisters, matchless in a phere,
Had livèd virgins well nigh eighteen year.
EURIALÆ, the elder sister's named;
The other was URANIA the wise.
Nature for making them was surely blamed:
VENUS herself, by them all did despise!
Such beauties with such virtue! so combined,
That all exceeds, yet nought excels their mind.
EURIALÆ so shows as doth the sun,
When mounted on the continent of heaven:
Yet oft she's clouded; but when her glory's come,
Two suns appear! to make her glory even.
Her smiles send brightness when the sun's not bright!
Her looks give beauty, when the sun lends light!
Modest and humble, of nature mild and sweet;
Unmatched beauty with her virtue meeting:
Proud that her lowly 'beisance doth re-greet
With her chaste silence. Virtue ever keeping.
This is the sun, that sets before it rise!
This is a star! no less are both her eyes!
Her beauty peerless! peerless is her mind!
Her body matchless! matchless are her thoughts!
Herself but one! but one like her, we find!
Her wealth's her virtue! Such virtue is not bought!
This is a heaven on earth, makes her divine!
This is the sun, obscures where it doth shine!
URANIA next. O that I had that Art
Could write her worth! her worth no eye may see!
Or that her tongue (O heaven!) were now my heart,
What silver lines in showers should drop from me!
My heart she keeps! how can I then indite?
No heart-less creature can Love Passions write!
As a black veil upon the wings of morn,
Brings forth a day as clear as VENUS' face;
Or a fair jewel, by an Ethiope worn,
Enricheth much the eye, which it doth grace:
Such is her beauty, if it well be told!
Placed in a jetty chariot set with gold.
Her hair, Night's canopy in mourning weeds
Is still enthroned, when locked within is seen
A Deity, drawn by a pair of steeds
Like VENUS' eyes! And if the like have been,
Her eyes two radiant stars, but yet divine!
Her face day's sun (heaven all!) if once they shine!
Upon the left side of this heavenly feature,
In curious work, Nature hath set a seal,
Wherein is writ, _This is a matchless creature!_
Where Wit and Beauty strives for the appeal:
The Judges choosed are Love and Fancy. They rise,
And looking on her, with her, left their eyes!
Her Wit and Beauty were at many frays,
"Whether the deep impressions did cause?"
"Nature!" said Beauty; Art, her Wit did praise:
Love thought her Face; her tongue had Truth's applause.
Whilst they contend, Which was the better part?
I lent an eye; She robbed me of my heart!
Sisters these two are, like the Day and Night:
Their glories, by their virtues they do merit,
One as the Day to see the other's might;
The other's Night to shadow a high spirit.
If all were Day, how could a lover rest?
Or if all Night, lovers were too much blest!
Both fair, as eke their bodies tall and slender:
Both wise, yet silence shews their modesty:
Both grave, although they both are young and tender:
Both humble hearted, not in policy.
So fair, wise, grave, and humble are esteemed;
Yet what men see, the worst of them is deemed!
Nature that made them fair, doth love perfection.
What Youth counts wisdom, Age doth bring to trial.
Grave years in Youth, in Age needs no direction.
A humble heart deserves, finds, no denial.
Fairs ring their knells, and yet Fame never dies!
True judgement's from the heart, not from the eyes!
These two, two sisters, cousins to this lover;
He often courts, as was his wonted fashion.
Who swears all's fair, yet hath no heart to prove her,
Seems still in Love or in a lover's Passion,
Now learns this lesson! and love-scoffers find it!
_CUPID hits rightest, when Lovers do least mind it!_
Although his guise were fashioned to his mind,
And wording Love, as compliment he used;
Seemed still to jest at Love and lovers' kind,
Never obtained, but where he was refused:
Yet now, his words with wit so are rewarded;
He loves! loves two! loves all! of none regarded.
Now he that laughed to hear true lovers sigh,
Can bite his lips, until his heart doth bleed!
Who jibed at all, loves all! each day's his night!
Who scorned, now weeps and howls! writes his own meed!
He that would bandy Love, is now the ball!
Who feared no hazard, himself hath ta'en the fall!
Beauty and Virtue, who did praise the fashion;
Who, Love and Fancy thought a comedy:
Now is turned Poet! and writes Love in Passion!
His verses fit the bleeding Tragedy!
In willow weeds, right well he acts his part!
His Scenes are tears, whose embryon was his heart!
He loves, where Love to all doth prove disaster!
His eyes no sooner see, but he's straight blind!
His kindred, friends, or foes, he follows faster
Than his own good! He's now but too too kind!
He that spent all, would fain find out Love's treasure!
Extremities are, for extremes the measure.
Thus thinks he, of the words he spent in vain;
And wishes now, his tongue had eloquence!
He's dumb! all motion that a world could gain,
A centre now without circumference!
CUPID, with words who fought! would teach him Art,
Hath lost his tongue; and with it, left his heart!
He swears he loves! (the heat doth prove the fire!)
He weeps his Love, his tears shew his Affection.
He writes his Love, his lines plead his Desire.
He sings his Love, the ditty mourns the action.
He sings, writes, weeps, and swears that he's in sadness!
It is believed, _Not cured, Love turns to madness!_
Love once dissembled, oaths are a grace most slender!
Tears oft are heard, Ambassadors for Beauty!
Words writ in gold, an iron heart may render!
A Passion Song shews much more hope than duty!
Oaths spoke in tears; words, song; prove no true ditty:
_A feignèd Love must find a feignèd Pity!_
Thus is the good DAIPHANTUS like the fly,
Who playing with the candle feels the flame.
The smiles of scorn are lovers' misery:
That soul's most vex't, is grievèd with his name.
Though kind DAIPHANTUS do most love protest;
Yet is his cross, still to be thought in jest!
Poor tortured lover! Like a perjured soul,
Swears till he's hoarse, yet never is believed!
(Who's once a villain, still is counted foul!)
O woful pity! when with wind relieved,
Learns this by wrote, _Though Love unconstant be,
They must prove constant, will her comforts see!_
Now to the humble heart of his dread Saint,
EURIALÆ, he kneels; but's not regarded!
Then to URANIA sighs, till he grows faint:
Such is her Wit, in silence he's rewarded!
His humble voice, EURIALÆ accuseth!
His sighing Passion, URANIA refuseth!
Then lifts he up his eyes, but Heaven frowneth!
Bows down his head, Earth is a mass of sorrow!
Runs to the seas; the sea, it storms and howleth!
Hies to the woods, the birds sad tunes do borrow!
Heaven, Earth, sea, woods, and all things do conspire
He burn in Love, yet freeze in his Desire!
The Ladies jest! command him to feign still!
Tell him, how, one day, he may be in love!
That lover's reason hath not Love's free will!
Smile in disdain, to think of that he proves!
(O me, DAIPHANTUS! how art thou advised?
When he's less pitied, then he is despised!)
They hold this but his humour! seem so wise!
And many lovers' stories forth do bring!
Court him with shadows, whilst he catcheth flies,
Biting his fingers till the blood forth spring!
Then do they much commend his careless Passion!
Call him "a lover of our Courtiers' fashion!"
All this they do in modesty; yet free
From thinking him so honest, as in truth:
Much less so kind, as to love two or three,
Him near allied; and he himself a youth!
Till with the sweat, which from his sufferings rise,
His face is pearled, like the lights his eyes.
Then with his look down-cast, and trembling hand,
A High Dutch colour, and a tongue like ice,
Apart with this EURIALÆ to stand
Endeavours he. This was his last device,
Yet in so humble strains, this Gallant courts her;
The wind being high, his breath it never hurts her!
Speechless thus stands he, till She feared him dead,
And rubs his temples, calls and cries for aid.
Water is fetched and spunged into his head:
Who then starts up; from dreaming, as he said,
And craving absence of all, but this Saint,
He 'gan to court her, but with a heart right faint.
"Bright Star of PHŒBUS! Goddess of my thought!
Behold thy vassal, humbled on his knee!
Behold for thee, what gods and Art hath wrought,
A man adoring! of Love, the lowest degree.
I love! I honour thee!" No more; there stayed
As if foresworn; even so, was he afraid!
EURIALÆ now spake, yet seemed in wonder,
Her lips when parting, heaven did ope his treasure,
"O do not, do not love! I will not sunder
A heart in two! Love hath nor height nor measure!
Live still a virgin! Then I'll be thy lover!"
Heaven here did close. No tongue could after move her.
As if in heaven, he was ravished so.
O love! O voice! O face! which is the glory?
O day! O night! O Age! O worlds of joy!
Of every part, true love might write a story.
Convert my sighs, O to some angel's tongue.
To die for Love is life! Death is best young!
She gone, URANIA came. He, on the flower,
But sight of her revived his noble fire:
And as if MARS did thunder, words did shower!
(Love speaks in heat, when 'tis in most Desire)
She made him mad, whose sight had him revived;
Now speaks he plainly! Storms past, the air is glide.
"Why was I made, to bear such woe and grief?
Why was I born, but in Love to be nourished?
Why then for Love (Love, of all virtues chief),
And I not pitied, though I be not cherished?
What! did my eyes offend in virtue seeing?
O no! True Virtue is the lover's being!
"Beauty and Virtue are the twins of life;
Love is the mother which them forth doth bring.
Wit with discretion ends the lover's strife.
Patience with silence is a glorious thing.
Love crowns a man, Love gives to all due merit;
Men without love are bodies without spirit.
"Love to a mortal is both life and treasure.
Love changed to Wedlock doubleth in her glory.
Love is the gem, whose worth is without measure.
Fame dies, if not entombed within Love's story.
Man that lives, lives not, if he wants Content.
Man that dies, dies not, if with Love's consent."
Thus spake DAIPHANTUS, and thus spake he well;
Which wise URANIA well did understand:
So well she like it, as it did excel.
Now graced she him with her white slender hand,
With words most sweet, a colour fresh and fair,
In heavenly speech, she 'gan his woes declare.
"My good DAIPHANTUS! Love, it is no toy!
CUPID, though blind, yet strikes the heart at last.
His force, you feel! whose power must breed your joy;
This is the meed for scoffs, you on him cast!
You love, who scorned! your love, with scorn is quite!
You love, yet want! your love, with want is spite!
"Love plays the wanton, where she means to kill.
Love rides the fool, and spurs without direction.
Love weeps like you, yet laughs at your good will.
Love is, of all things, but the true confection.
Love is of everything; yet itself's but one thing.
Love is anything, yet indeed is nothing.
"We virgins know this, though not the force of Love.
For we two sisters live as in a cell:
Nor do we scorn it, though we it not approve;
By prayer we hope, her charms for to repell!
And thus adieu! But you, in Progress go,
To find fit place to warble forth your woe.
"Who first seeks mercy, is the last for grief,"
Thus did She part; whose image stayed behind.
He in a trance stands mute, finds no relief
(For She was absent, whose tongue pleased his mind),
But like a heartless and a hurtless creature,
In admiration of so sweet a feature.
At length looked up, his shadow only seeing,
Sighs to himself and weeps, yet silent stands;
Kneels, riseth, walks, all this without True Being,
Sure he was there, though fettered in Love's bands.
His lips departed, parted were his blisses:
Yet for pure love, each lip the other kisses.
Revived by this, or else Imagination,
Recalls things past, the time to come laments;
Records his love, but with an acclamation!
Repents himself and all these accidents.
Now with the wings of Love, he 'gins to raise,
His Love to gain, this woman he doth praise.
"Women than Men are purer creatures far!
The Soul of souls! the blessed Gift of Nature!
To men, a heaven! to men, the brightest star!
The pearl that's matchless! high, without all stature!
So full of goodness, that Bounty waiteth still
Upon their trencher! feeds them with free will!
"Where seek we Virtue, learn true Art or Glory;
Where find we Joy that lasteth, still is spending,
But in sweet Women? of man's life, the Story!
Alpha, they are! Omega is their ending!
Their virtues shine with such a sun of brightness!
Yet he's unwise, that looks in them for lightness!"
(O let my pen relate mine own decay!
There are, which are not, or which should not be,
Some shaped like Saints, whose steps are not the way.
O let my Verse not name their infamy!
These hurt not all, but even the wandering eye,
Which fondly gapes for his own misery.
These do not harm the honest or the just,
The faithful lover, or the virtuous dame;
But those whose souls be only given to lust,
Care more for pleasure, than for worthy fame.
But peace, my Muse! For now, methinks I hear
An angel's voice come warbling in my ear!)
Not distant far, within a garden fair,
The sweet ARTESIA sang unto her lute,
Her voice charmed CUPID, and perfumed the air,
Made beasts stand still, and birds for to be mute.
Her voice and beauty proved so sad a ditty;
Who saw, was blind! who heard, soon sued for pity!
This Lady was no virgin like the rest,
Yet near allied. By Florence city dwelling
(Nature and Art; within her both were blest;
Music in her, and Love had his excelling).
To visit her fair cousins oft she came;
Perhaps more jocund, but no whit to blame.
Fortune had crossed her with a churlish Mate,
Who STRYMON hight. A Palmer was his sire,
Full nobly born and of a wealthy state;
His son a child not born to his Desire.
Thus was she crossed, which causèd her thereby,
DAIPHANTUS' grief to mourn, by sympathy.
DAIPHANTUS hearing such a swan-tuned voice,
Was ravished, as with angels' melody;
Though in this labyrinth blest, could not rejoice,
Nor yet could see what brought this harmony.
At length, this goddess ceased; began draw near,
Who, when he saw; he saw not, 'twas her sphere!
Away then crept he on his hands and knees,
To hide himself: thought VENUS came to plague him!
Which she espying, like the sun she stands;
As with her beams, she thought for to assuage him.
But like the sun, which gazed on blinds the eye,
So he by her! and so resolved to die.
At this, in wonder softly did she pace it;
Yet suddenly was stayed. His verses seized her,
Which he late writ, forgot. Thus was he graced.
She read them over, and the writing pleased her.
For CUPID framed two mottoes in her heart:
The one as DIAN'S, the other, for his dart.
She read and pitied; reading, Pity taught.
She loved and hated; hate to Love did turn.
She smiled and wept; her weeping Smiling brought.
She hoped and feared; her Hopes in fear did mourn.
She read, loved, smiled, and hoped; but 'twas in vain:
Her tears, still dread; and pity, hate did gain.
She could have loved him, such true verses making;
She might have loved him, and yet love beguiling.
She would have kissed him, but feared his awaking;
She might have kissed him, and sleep sweetly smiling.
She thus afeared, did fear what she most wished.
He thus in hope, still hoped for that he missed.
He looked! They two, long each on other gazed!
Sweet silence pleaded what each other thought.
Thus Love and Fancy both alike amazed,
As if their tongues and hearts had been distraught.
ARTESIA'S voice thus courted him at length.
The more she spake, the greater was his strength!
"Good gentle Sir! your fortunes I bemoan,
And wish my state so happy as to ease you!
But She that grieved you, She it is alone,
Whose breath can cure, and whose kind words appease you!
Were I that She, heaven should my star extinguish,
If you but loved me, ere I would relinquish.
"Yet, noble Sir! I can no love protest,
For I am wedded (O word full fraught with woe!)
But in such manner as good love is blest,
In honest kindness, I'll not prove your foe!
Mine own experience doth my counsel prove,
I know to pity, yet not care to love!
"A sister, yet Nature hath given me,
A virgin true, right fair, and sweetly kind.
I for her good, Fortune hath driven me
To be a comfort. Your heart shall be her mind.
My woes yet tell me, she is best a maid!"
And here she stopped her tears, her words thus stayed.
DAIPHANTUS then, in number without measure,
Began her praises, which no pen can end.
"O Saint! O sun of heaven, and earth the treasure!
Who lives, if not thy honour to defend?
Ah me! what mortal can be in love so strange,
That wedding Virtue will a wand'ring range?
"She, like the morning, is still fresh and fair.
The Elements, of her, they all do borrow;
The Earth, the Fire, the Waters, and the Air;
Their strength, heat, moisture, liveliness. No sorrow
Can Virtue change! Beauty hath but one place.
The heart's still perfect; though empaled the face.
"O eyes! no eyes, but stars still clearly shining!
O face! no face but shape of angels' fashion!
O lips! no lips, but bliss by kiss refining!
O heart! no heart, but of true love right Passion!
O eyes, face, lips, and heart, if not too cruel;
To see, feel, taste, and love earth's rarest jewel."
This said, he paused, new praises now devising,
Kneels to APOLLO for his skill and Art:
When came the Ladies! At which, he arising,
'Twixt lip and lip, he had nor lips nor heart.
His eyes, their eyes so sweetly did incumber:
Although awaked, yet in a golden slumber.
Most like a lion raised from slumbering ease,
He cast his looks, fall grimly them among.
At length, he firmly knit what might appease
His brow; looked stedfastly and long
At one, till all their eyes with his eyes met alike
On fair VITULLIA, who his heart did strike.
VITULLIA fair, yet brown; as mixed together
As Art and Nature strove which was the purest.
So sweet her smilings were, a grace to either!
That heaven's glory in that face seemed truest.
VENUS, excepted when the god her wooed,
Was ne'er so fair! so tempting, yet so good!
Wonder not, mortals, though the Poets feign!
The Muses' graces were in this She's favour:
Nor wonder, though She strove his tongue to gain!
For I lose mine, in thinking of his labour.
"Well may he love," I write, "and all Wits praise her,
She's so all humble, Learning cannot raise her!"
DAIPHANTUS oft sighed: "Oh!" oft said "Fair!"
Then looks and sighs, and then cries wonderful;
Thus did he long, and truly 'twas not rare:
The object was! which made his mind so dull.
Pray pardon him! for better to cry "Oh!"
Than feel that Passion which caused him sigh so.
Now, all were silent, not alone this Lover,
Till came ISMENIO, brother to this Saint,
Whose haste made sweat, his tongue he could not prove her,
For this against him, that his heart was faint:
Thus all amazed, none knowing any cause,
ISMENIO breathless, here had time to pause.
At length, ISMENIO, who had wit and skill,
Questioned the reason of this strong effect:
At last related, haste outwent his will,
He told them, "He was sent, them to direct,
Where hunting sports, their eyes should better please!"
Who first went forth, DAIPHANTUS most did ease.