SONG.

DESCRIPTION OF THE LADY MESIA.‡ HER stature and her shape were passing tall, Diana-like, when 'longst the lawns she goes; A stately pace, like Juno when she brav'd The Queen of Love § 'fore Paris in the vale; A front beset with love and majesty ; A face like lovely Venus when she blush'd A seely shepherd should be beauty's judge; A lip sweet ruby-red, grac'd with delight; Her eyes two sparkling stars in winter-night When chilling frost doth clear the azur'd sky; Her hairs, in tresses twin'd with threads of silk, Hung waving down like Phoebus' in his prime; Her breasts as white as those two snowy swans That draw to Paphos Cupid's smiling dame; A foot like Thetis' when she tripp'd the sands To steal Neptunus' favour with her|| steps; In fine, a piece, despite of beauty, fram'd To show what Nature's cunning could afford.

SWEET are the thoughts that savour of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent;
The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown:
Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such
Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss. [bliss,
The homely house that harbours quiet rest;
The cottage that affords no pride nor care;
The mean that 'grees with country music best;
The sweet consort of mirth and music's fare;
Obscured life sets down a type of bliss:
A mind content both crown and kingdom is.

LINES TRANSLATED FROM GUAZZO. ("Chi spinto d'amore," &c.)

HE that appaled with lust would sail in haste to Corinthum,

There to be taught in Lais' school to seek for a mistress,

Is to be train'd in Venus' troop and chang'd to the purpose;

Rage embrac'd, but reason quite thrust out as an exile;

Pleasure a pain, rest turn'd to be care, and mirth as a madness;

Fiery mind inflam'd with a look, enrag'd as Alecto ;

Quaint in array, sighs fetch'd from far, and tears, marry, feigned;

Pensive, sore, deep-plung'd in pain, not a place but his heart whole;

Days in grief and nights consum'd to think on a goddess;

Broken sleeps, sweet dreams, but short, from the night to the morning; [Apollo; Venus dash'd, his mistress' face as bright as Helena stain'd, the golden ball wrong-given by

the shepherd;

Hairs of gold, eyes twinkling stars, her lips to be rubies;

Teeth of pearl, her breasts like snow, her cheeks to be roses;

Sugar-candy she is, as I guess, from the waist to the kneestead;

Naught is amiss, no fault were found, if soul were amended;

All were bliss, if such fond lust led not to repentance.

*appaled] Qy. "impell'd"?
mind] The 4to. "mindes.'

Pensive] The 4to. "Pen sicke."

FROM

DANTE.

("Il vizio che conduce," &c.)

A MONSTER Seated in the midst of men,
Which, daily fed, is never satiate;
A hollow gulf of vile* ingratitude,
Which for his food vouchsafes not pay of thanks,
But still doth claim a debt of due expense:
From hence doth Venus draw the shape of lust;
From hence Mars raiseth blood and stratagems:
The wreck of wealth, the secret foe to life;
The sword that hasteneth on the date of death;
The surest friend to physic by disease;
The pumice that defaceth memory;
The misty vapour that obscures the light,
And brightest beams of science' glittering sun,
And doth eclipse the mind with sluggish thoughts:
The monster that affords this cursed brood,
And makes commixture of these dire mishaps,
Is but a stomach overcharg'd with meats,
That takes delight in endless gluttony.

FROM

THE GROATSWORTH OF WIT. (ED. 1617.)

LAMILIA'S SONG.

FIE, fie on blind fancy!
It hinders youth's joy:
Fair virgins, learn by me
To count Love a toy.

When Love learn'd first the A B C of delight,
And knew no figures nor conceited phrase,
He simply gave to due desert her right,
He led not lovers in dark winding ways;
He plainly will'd to love, or flatly answer'd no:
But now who lists to prove, shall find it nothing so.

Fie, fie, then, on fancy!
It hinders youth's joy:
Fair virgins, learn by me

To count love a toy.

For since he learn'd to use the poet's pen,
He learn'd likewise with smoothing words to
feign,
[men,

Witching chaste ears with trothless tongues of
And wrongèd faith with falsehood and disdain.
He gives a promise now, anon he sweareth no :
Who listeth for to prove, shall find his changing so.
Fie, fie, then, on fancy!
It hinders youth's joy:
Fair virgins, learn by me
To count Love a toy.

*vile] The 4to. "vild": but see note t, p. 107, sec. col.

VERSES AGAINST ENTICING COURTE

ZANS.

WHAT mean the poets in* invective verse
To sing Medea's shame, and Scylla's pride,
Calypso's charms by which so many died?
Only for this their vices they rehearse,-
That curious wits, which in the world converse,
May shun the dangers and enticing shows
Of such false Sirens, those home-breeding foes,
That from their eyes their venom do disperse.
So soon kills not the basilisk with sight,
The viper's tooth is not so venomous,
The adder's tongue not half so dangerous,
As they that bear the shadow of delight,
Who chain blind youths in trammels of their hair,
Till waste brings woe, and sorrow hastes despair.

VERSES.

DECEIVING World, that with alluring toys
Hast made my life the subject of thy scoru,
And scornest now to lend thy fading joys
T'outlength my life, whom friends have left for-
lorn;

How well are they that die ere they be born,

And never see thy sleights, which few men shun Till unawares they helpless are undone !

Oft have I sung of Love and of his fire;
But now I find that poet was advis'd,
Which made full feasts increasers of desire,
And proves weak Love was with the poor despis'd;
For when the life with food is not suffic'd,

What thoughts of love, what motion of delight,
What pleasance can proceed from such a wight?

Witness my want, the murderer of my wit:
My ravish'd sense, of wonted fury reft,
Wants such conceit as should in poems fit
Set down the sorrow wherein I am left:
But therefore have high heavens their gifts bereft,
Because so long they lent them me to use,
And I so long their bounty did abuse.

O, that a year were granted me to live,
And for that year my former wits restor❜d!
What rules of life, what counsel would I give,
How should my sin with sorrow be deplor'd! †
But I must die of every man abhorr'd:

Time loosely spent will not again be won;
My time is loosely spent, and I undone.

A CONCEITED FABLE OF THE OLD COMEDIAN ESOP.

AN ant and a grasshopper, walking together on a green, the one carelessly skipping, the other carefully prying what winter's provision was scattered in the way; the grasshopper scorning (as wantons will) this needless thrift, as he termed it, reproved him thus;

"The greedy miser thirsteth still for gain;

His thrift is theft, his weal works others woe: That fool is fond which will in caves remain, When 'mongst fair sweets he may at pleasure go."

To this, the ant, perceiving the grasshopper's meaning, quickly replied;

"The thrifty husband spares what unthrift* spends,

His thrift no theft, for dangers to provide: Trust to thyself; small hope in want yield friends:

A cave is better than the deserts wide t."

In short time these two parted, the one to his pleasure, the other to his labour. Anon harvest grew on, and reft from the grasshopper his wonted moisture. Then weakly skips he to the meadows' brinks, where till fell winter he abode. But storms continually pouring, he went for succour to the ant, his old acquaintance; to whom he had scarce discovered his estate, but the little worm made this reply;

"Pack hence," quoth he, "thou idle, lazy worm; My house doth harbour no unthrifty mates: Thou scorn'dst to toil, and now thou feel'st

the storm,

And starv'st for food, while I am fed with cates: Use no entreats, I will relentless rest, For toiling labour hates an idle guest." The grasshopper, foodless, helpless, and strengthless, got into the next brook, and in the yielding sand digged himself a pit: by which likewise he engraved this epitaph;

"When spring's green prime array'd me with delight,

And every power, with youthful vigour fill'd, Gave strength to work whatever fancy will'd, I never fear'd the force of winter's spite.

"When first I saw the sun the day begin, And dry the morning's tears from herbs and

I little thought his cheerful light would pass,
Till ugly night with darkness enter'd in;
And then day lost I mourn'd, spring past I

wail'd;

But neither tears for this or that avail'd.

"Then too-too late I prais'd the emmet's pain, That sought in spring a harbour 'gainst the heat, And in the harvest gather'd winter's meat, Perceiving famine, frosts, and stormy rain.

"My wretched end may warn green-springing youth

To use delights as toys that will deceive,
And scorn the world before the world them

leave,

For all world's trust is ruin without ruth.

Then blest are they that, like the toiling ant, Provide in time 'gainst woeful winter's want.” With this the grasshopper, yielding to the weather's extremity, died comfortless without remedy.

FROM

CICERONIS AMOR, TULLY'S LOVE. (ED. 1597.)

VERSES.

WHEN gods had fram'd the sweet of women's face,

And lock'd men's looks within their golden hair,

That Phoebus blush'd to see their matchless grace,

And heavenly gods on earth did make repair; To quip fair Venus' overweening pride, Love's happy thoughts to jealousy were tied.

Then grew a wrinkle on fair Venus' brow;

The amber sweet of love is turn'd to gall; Gloomy was heaven; bright Phoebus did avow He could be coy, and would not love at all, Swearing, no greater mischief could be wrought Than love united to a jealous thought.

VERSUS.

VITA quæ tandem magis est jucunda, Vel viris doctis magis expetenda, Mente quam pura sociam jugalem Semper amare?

Vita quæ tandem magis est dolenda,
Vel magis cunctis fugienda, quam quæ,
Falsò suspecta probitate amicæ,
Tollit amorem ?

Nulla eam tollit medicina pestem,
Murmura, emplastrum, vel imago sagæ,
Astra nec curant magicæ nec artes
Zelotypiam.

SONG.

MARS in a fury 'gainst Love's brightest Queen, Put on his helm, and took him to his lance; On Erycinus Mount was Mavors seen,

And there his ensigns did the god advance, And by heaven's greatest gates he stoutly swore, Venus should die, for she had wrong'd him sore.

Cupid heard this, and he began to cry,

And wish'd his mother's absence for a while: "Peace, fool," quoth Venus; "is it I must die? Must it be Marst?" with that she coin'd a smile; She trimm'd her tresses, and did curl her hair, And made her face with beauty passing fair.

A fan of silver feathers in her hand,‡

And in a coach of ebony she went:

She pass'd the place where furious Mars did stand,

And out her looks a lovely smile she sent; Then from her brows leap'd out so sharp a frown, That Mars for fear threw all his armour down.

He vow'd repentance for his rash misdeed, Blaming his choler that had caus'd his woe: Venus grew gracious, and with him agreed,

But charg'd him not to threaten beauty so, For women's looks are such enchanting charms As can subdue the greatest god in arms.

ROUNDELAY.

§ Daphne] The 4to "Daphnis."

I'll wear the bays, and call the wag a boy,
And think of love but as a foolish toy.

Some give him bow and quiver at his back,

Some make him blind to aim without advice, When, naked wretch, such feather'd bolts he lack,

And sight he hath, but cannot wrong the wise;

For use but labour's weapon for defence,
And Cupid, like a coward, flieth thence.

He's god in court, but cottage calls him child,
And Vesta's virgins with their holy fires
Do cleanse the thoughts that fancy hath defil'd,
And burn the palace of his fond desires;
With chaste disdam they scorn the foolish god,
And prove him but a boy not past the rod.

LENTULUS'S DESCRIPTION OF TERENTIA
IN LATIN.

QUALIS in aurora splendescit lumine Titan,
Talis in eximio corpore forma fuit:
Lumina seu spectes radiantia, sive capillos,
Lux, Ariadne, tua, et lux tua, Phoebe, jacet.
Venustata fuit verbis, spirabat odorem;

Musica vox, nardus spiritus almus erat;
Rubea labra, genæ rubræ, faciesque decora,
In qua concertant lilius atque rosa;
Luxuriant geminæ formoso in pectore mamma;
Circundant niviæ candida colla coma;
Denique talis erat divina Terentia, quales
Quondam certantes, Juno, Minerva, Venus.

THE SHEPHERD'S ODE.
WALKING in a valley green,
Spread with Flora, summer-queen,
Where she heaping all her graces,
Niggard seem'd in other places;
Spring it was, and here did spring
All that nature forth can bring.
Groves of pleasant trees there grow,
Which fruit and shadow could bestow:
Thick-leav'd boughs small birds cover,
Till sweet notes themselves discover;
Tunes for number seem'd confounded,
Whilst their mixtures music sounded,
'Greeing well, yet not agreed
That one the other should exceed.
A sweet stream here silent glides,
Whose clear water no fish hides;
Slow it runs,
which well bewray'd

The pleasant shore the current stay'd.
In this stream a rock was planted,
Where no art nor nature wanted.
Each thing so did other grace,
As all places may give place;
Only this the place of pleasure,
Where is heaped nature's treasure.
Here mine eyes with wonder stay'd;
Eyes amaz'd, and mind afraid,
Ravish'd with what was beheld,
From departing were withheld.
Musing then with sound advice
On this earthly paradise;
Sitting by the river-side,
Lovely Phillis was descried.
Gold her hair, bright her eyne,
Like to Phoebus in his shine;
White her brow, her face was fair;
Amber breath perfum'd the air;
Rose and lily both did seek

To show their glories on her cheek; Love did nestle in her looks, Baiting there his sharpest hooks. Such a Phillis ne'er was seen, More beautiful than Love's Queen: Doubt it was, whose greater grace, Phillis' beauty, or the place. Her coat was of scarlet red, All in plaits; a mantle spread, Fring'd with gold; a wreath of boughs To check the sun from her brows; In her hand a shepherd's hook, In her face Diana's look. Her sheep grazèd on the plains:

She had stolen from the swains; music] The 4to. "musickes."

Under a cool silent shade,

By the streams, she garlands made: Thus sat Phillis all alone. Miss'd she was by Coridon, Chiefest swain of all the rest; Lovely Phillis lik'd him best. His face was like Phœbus' love; His neck white as Venus' dove; A ruddy cheek, fill'd with smiles, Such Love hath when he beguiles; His locks* brown, his eyes were grey, Like Titan in a summer-day : A russet jacket, sleeves red; A blue bonnet on his head; A cloak of grey + fenc'd the rain; Thus 'tirèd was this lovely swain; A shepherd's hook, his dog tied; Bag and bottle by his side: Such was Paris, shepherds say, When with Enone he did play. From his flock stray'd Coridon, Spying Phillis all alone; By the stream he Phillis spied, Braver than was Flora's pride. Down the valley 'gan he track, Stole behind his true-love's back; The sun shone, and shadow made, Phillis rose, and was afraid; When she saw her lover there, Smile she did, and left her fear. Cupid, that disdain doth loath, With desire strake them both. The swain did woo; she was nice, Following fashion, nay'd him twice: Much ado he kiss'd her then; Maidens blush when they kiss men; So did Phillis at that stowre; ‡ Her face was like the rose-flower. Last they 'greed, for love would so, Faith and troth, they would no mo; § For shepherds ever held it sin, To false the love they lived in. The swain gave a girdle red; She set garlands on his head: Gifts were given; they kiss again; Both did smile, for both were fain. Thus was love 'mongst shepherds sold When fancy knew not what was gold: They woo'd, and vow'd, and that they keep, And go contented to their sheep.