Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

  Which of the two was most preheminent,

  Or he more honour’d, or she more obayd,

  In both was found that liueliehood and meetnes,

  By which affection any way was mou’d:

  In him that shape, in her there was that sweetnes,

  Might make him lik’d or her to be belou’d:

  As this commixtion, so their maried mind

  Their good corrected, or their ill releeu’d,

  As truly louing as discreetly kinde,

  Mutuallie ioy’d, as mutuallie greeu’d:

  Their nuptiall bed by abstinence maintain’d,

  Yet still gaue fewell to Loues sacred fire,

  And when fruition plentifulli’st gain’d,

  Yet were they chaste in fulnes of desire.

  Now grieued Israel many a wofullday.

  That at their vile seruilitie repin’d,

  Press’d with the burdens of rude boist’rous clay,

  By sterne Egyptian tyrannie asfign’d:

  Yet still the more the are opprest

  Like to Frim seed they fructifie the more

  That by th’eternall prouidence fore-blest,

  Goshen giues roomth but scantly to their store.

  And the wise Midwiues in their naturall neede,

  That the faire males immediatlie should kill,

  Hating sabhord, and Hethenish a deede,

  Check his harsh brutenes and rebellious will.

  That small effect perceiuing by the same,

  Bids the men-children (greatelie that abound)

  After that day into the world that came,

  Vpon their birth should instantly be drownd:

  And now the time came had bin long foretold,

  He should be borne vnto the Hebrewes ioy,

  Whose puissant hand such fatall power should hold,

  As in short time all Egipt should destroy.

  The execution which more strongly forc’d,

  And euery where so generally done,

  As in small time vnnaturally diuorc’d,

  Many a deare Mother, and as deare a Sonne.

  Though her chast bosome that faire Altar were,

  Where Loues pure vowes he dutifully pay’d,

  His Armes to her a Sanctuary deare,

  Yet they so much his tyranny obay’d,

  By free consent to separate their bed,

  Better at all no Children yet to haue,

  Then their deare loue should procreate the dead,

  Vntimely issue for a timelesse graue.

  When in a vision whilst he slept by night,

  God bids him so not lacobed to leaue,

  The man that Egypt did so much affright,

  Her pregnant wombe should happily conceaue.

  Soone after finding that she was with child,

  The same conceales by all the meanes she can,

  Left by th’apparance she might be beguild,

  If in the birth it prou’d to be a man.

  The time she goes till her accompt was nie,

  Her swelling belly no conception showes,

  Nor at the time of her deliuery,

  As other women panged in her throwes.

  When lo the faire fruit of that prospering wombe

  Wounds the kinde parents in their prime of ioy.

  Whose birth pronounceth his too timelesse doombe

  Accus’d by Nature, forming it a boy:

  Yet tis so sweet, so amiably faire,

  That their pleas’d cies with rapture it behold,

  The glad sad parents full of ioy and care

  Faine would reserue their Insant if they could,

  And still they tempt the sundrie varying howers,

  Hopes and despaires together strangely mixt,

  Distasting sweets with many cordiall sowers,

  Opposed interchangeably betwixt.

  If ought it ayl’d or hapleslie it cride,

  Vnheard of any that she might it keepe,

  With one short breath she did intreat and chide,

  And in a moment she did sing and weepe.

  Three lab’ring months them flatterer-like beguilde,

  And danger still redoubling as it lasts,

  Suspecting most the safety of the Childe,

  Thus the kinde Mother carefully forecasts:

  (For at three moneths a scrutinie was held,

  And searchers then sent euery where about,

  That in that time if any were conceal’d,

  They should make proofe and straitly bring them out:)

  To Pharoes will she awfully must bow,

  And therefore hastens to abridge these feares,

  And to the flood determines it shall goe,

  Yet ere it went shee’ll drowne it with her teares.

  This afternoone Loue bids a little stay,

  And yet these pauses doe but lengthen sorrow,

  But for one night although she make delay,

  She vowes to goe vnto his death tomorrow.

  The morning comes, it is too early yet,

  The day so fast not hast’ning on his date,

  The gloomy Euening murther best doth fit,

  The Euening come, and then it is too late.

  Her pretty Infant lying on her lap

  With his sweet eyes her threatning rage beguiles,

  For yet he playes, and dallyes with his pap,

  To mock her sorrowes with his am’rous smiles,

  And laugh’d, and chuck’d: and spred the pretty hands,

  When her full heart was at the point to breake,

  (This little Creature yet not vnderstands

  The wofull language mothers teares did speake.)

  Wherewith surpriz’d, and with a parents loue,

  From his faire eyes she doth fresh couragetake,

  And Natures lawes allowing, doth reproue

  The fraile Edicts that mortall Princes make.

  It shall not die, she’ll keepe her child vnknowne,

  And come the worst in spight of Pharoes rage,

  As it is hers, she will dispose her owne,

  And if’t must, it’st die at riper age.

  And thus reuoluing of her frailties care,

  A thousand strange throng her troubled minde,

  Sounding the dangers what they are,

  Betwixt the lawes of cruelty and kinde.

  But it must die, and better yet to part,

  Since preordain’d to this fate,

  His want will sit the neerer to the heart

  In riper and more flourishing estate,

  The perfect husband whose soule,

  Tooke true proportion of each throw,

  Yet had such power his passion to controule,

  As not the same immedintely to show,

  With carriage full of comelinesse and grace,

  As griefe not felt nor sorrow seem’d to lacke,

  Courage and seare so temp’red in his face,

  Thus his beloued Iacobed bespake.

  Deare heart be patient, stay these timelesse teares,

  Death of thy Son shall neuer quite thee,

  My soule with thine, that equall burthen beares,

  As what he takes, my Loue againe shall giue thee;

  For Israels sinne if Israels seed must suffer,

  And we of meere necessity must leaue him,

  Please yet to grace me with this gentle offer,

  Giue him to me by whom thou didst conceyue him.

  So though thou with so deare a part,

  This yet remayneth lastly to thee,

  Thou hast impos’d this hindrance on my heart,

  Anothers losse shall need the lesse to grieue thee,

  Nor are we abiect by our name,

  Though thus in Egypt hatefully despised,

  That we that blessing fruitlefly should clayme

  Once in that holy comprised,

  It is not fit Mortality should know

  What his eternall prouidence

  That vnto Abraham the
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  In happy Sara and her seed.

  Nor shall the wrong to godly one

  In his remembranee euer he

  By Iacobs sighes for his lost little sonne

  A Captiu’d slaue to the Egyptians sould:

  Reason sets limmets to the longest griefe,

  Sorrow scarse past when comfort is returning,

  He sends affliction that can lend releefe,

  Best that is pleas’d with measure in our mourning.

  Lost in her selfe, her spirits are so distracted,

  All hopes dissolu’d might her further,

  Her minde seemes now of misery compacted,

  That must consent vnto so deere a murther.

  Of slime and twigs she makes a simple shread

  (The poore last duty to her child she owes

  This pretty martyr, this yet liuing dead)

  Wherein she doth his little corps enclose:

  And meanes to beare it presently away,

  And in some water secretly bestow it,

  But yet a while bethinkes her selfe to stay,

  Some little kindnesse she doeth further owe it:

  Nor will she in this cruelty perseuer,

  That by her meanes his timelesse blood be spilt,

  If of her owne she doth her selfe deliuer,

  Let others hands be nocent of the guilt:

  Yet if she keepe it from the ruthlesse flood

  That is by Pharo’s tyranny it,

  What bootes that wretched miserable good,

  If so dispos’d where none doe come to finde it,

  For better yet the Homicide should kill it,

  Or by some beast in peeces to be rent,

  Than lingring famine cruelly should spill it,

  That it endure a double languishment:

  And neighbouring neere to the Egyptian Court,

  She knowes a place that neere the riuer side

  Was oft frequented by the worthier sort,

  For now the spring was newly in her pride.

  Thither she hastes but with a speed

  The ueerest way she possibly could get,

  And by the cleere brimme mongst the flags and reede,

  Her little Coffin carefully she set:

  Her little Girle (the Mother following neere)

  As of her Brother that her leaue would take,

  Which the sad woman vnexpecting there,

  Yet it to helpe her kindely thus bespake:

  (Quoth she) sweet Miriam secretly attend,

  And for his death see who approacheth hether,

  That once for all assured of his end,

  His dayes and mine be consummate together,

  It is some comfort to a wretch to die

  (If there be comfort in the way of death)

  To haue some friend or kinde alliance by,

  To be officious at the parting breath:

  Thus she departs, oft stayes, oft turneth backe,

  Looking about lest any one espi’d her,

  Faine would she leaue, that leauing she doth lacke,

  That in this sort so strangely doth diuide her.

  Vnto what Dame (participating kinde)

  My verse her sad perplexitie shall showe,

  That in a softned and relenting minde

  Findes not a true touch of that Mothers woe.

  Yet all this while full quietly it slept,

  (Poore little Brat incapable of care)

  Which by that powerfull prouidence is kept,

  Who doth this childe for better daies prepare.

  See here an abiect vtterly forlorne,

  Left to destruction as a violent prey,

  Whom man might iudge accursed to be borne,

  To darke obliuion moulded vp in clay,

  That man of might in after times should bee

  (The bounds of mortality that brake)

  Which that Almighty gloriously should see,

  When he in thunder on mount Sinai spake.

  Now Pharaoh’s Daughter Termuth young & faire,

  With such choyce Maydens as she fauour’d most,

  Needes would abroad to take the gentle ayre,

  Whilst the rich yeere his braueries seem’d to boast:

  Softly she walkes downe to the secret flood,

  Through the calme shades most peaceable & quiet,

  In the coole streames to check the pampred blood,

  Stir’d with strong youth and their delicious diet;

  Such as the Princesse, such the day addressed,

  As though prouided equally to paire her,

  Either in other fortunately blessed

  She by the day, the day by her made falrer,

  Both in the height and fulnesse of their pleasure,

  As to them both some future good diuining,

  Holding a steadie and accomplish’d measure,

  This in her perfect clearenesse, that in shining.

  The very ayre to emulate her meekenesse,

  Stroue to be bright and peaceable as she,

  That it grew iealous of that sodaine sleekenesse,

  Fearing it ofter otherwise might be:

  And if the fleet winde by some rigorous gale

  Seern’d to be mou’d, and patiently to chide her,

  It was as angry with her lawnie vaile,

  That from his sight it enuiously should hide her:

  And now approching to the flow’rie meade

  Where the rich Summer curiously had dight her,

  Which seem’d in all her arayde,

  With Natures cost and pleasures to delight her:

  See this most blessed, this vnusuall hap,

  She the small basket sooner should espie,

  That the Childe wak’d, and missing of his pap,

  As for her succour in stantly did cry;

  Forth of the flagges she caus’d it to be taken,

  Calling her Maids this Orphanet to see,

  Much did she ioy an Innocent forsaken

  By her from perill priuiledg’d might be:

  This most sweet Princesse pittifull and milde,

  Soone on her knee vnswathes it as her owne,

  Found for a man, so beautifull a Childe,

  Might for an Hebrew easily be knowne:

  Noting the caro in dressing it bestow’d,

  Each thing that fitted gentlenesse to weare,

  Iudg’d the sad parents this lost Infant ow’d,

  Were as invulgar as their fruit was faire,

  (Saith she) my minde not any way suggests

  An vnchaste wombe these lineaments hath bred,

  For thy faire brow apparently contests

  The currant stampe of a cleane nuptiall bed:

  She nam’d it Moyses, which in time might tell

  (For names doe many mysteries expound)

  When it was young the chance that it befell,

  How by the water strangely it was found,

  Calling Melch women that Egyptians were,

  Once to the teat his lips he would not lay,

  As though offended with their sullied leare,

  Seeming as still to turne his head away.

  The little Girle that neere at hand did lurke,

  (Thinking this while she tarried but too long)

  Finding these things so happily to worke,

  Kindely being crafty, wise as she was yong,

  Madame (saith she) wilt please you I prouide

  A Nurse to breed the Infant you did finde,

  There is an Hebrew dwelling here beside,

  I know can doe it fitly to your minde:

  For a right Hebrew if the Infant be,

  (As well produce you instances I can,

  And by this Childe as partly you may see,)

  It will not sucke ofan Egyptian.

  The courteous Princesse offered now so faire,

  That which before she earnestly desir’d,

  That of her foundling had a speciall care,

  The Girle to fetch her instantly requir’d:
<
br />   Away the Girle goes, doth her Mother tell

  What fauor God had to her brother showne,

  And what else in this accident befell,

  That she might now be Nurse vnto her owne.

  Little it bootes to bid the Wench to ply her,

  Nor the kinde Mother hearken to her sonne,

  Nor to prouoke her to the place to hie her,

  Which seem’d not now on earthly feete to runne:

  Slow to her selfe yet hasting as she flew,

  (So fast affection forward did her beare)

  As though with the breath she drew,

  Borne by the force of nature and of feare,

  Little the time, and little is the way,

  And for her businesse eithers speede doth craue,

  Yet in her haste her what to say,

  And how her selfe in presence to behaue,

  Slack shee’l not seeme lest to anothers trust

  Her hopefull charge were happily directed,

  Nor yet too forward shew her selfe she must,

  Lest her sweet fraud thereby might be suspected,

  Com’n she doth bow her humbly to the ground,

  And euery ioynt incessantly doth tremble,

  Gladnesse and feare each other so consound,

  So hard a thing for Mothers to dissemble.

  Saith this sweet Termuth, well I like thy beautie,

  Nurse me this Childe (if it thy state behooue)

  Although a Prince ile not enforce thy dutie,

  But pay thy labour, and reward thy loue:

  Though euen as Gods is Pharaohs high command,

  And as strong Nature so precise and strict,

  There rests that power yet in a Princesse hand,

  To free one Hebrew from this strong edict:

  That shall in rich abilliments be dight,

  Deck’d in the Iems that shine,

  Wearing our owne roabe gracious in our sight,

  Free in our Court, and nourished for mine:

  Loue him deare Hebrew as he were thine owne,

  Good Nurse be carefull of my little Boy,

  In this to vs thy kindenesse may be showne,

  Some Mothers griefe, is now a May dens ioy.

  This while all mute, the poore astonish’d Mother,

  With admiration as transpeareed stood,

  One ioy doth so confound another,

  Passion so powerfull in her rauish’d blood.

  Whisp’ring some soft words which deliuered were,

  As rather seem’d her silence to impart,

  And being inforc’d from bashfulnesse and feare,

  Came as true tokens of a gracefull heart.

  Thus she departs her husband to content,

  With this deare present backe to him she brought,

  Making the time short, telling each euent,

  In all shapes ioy presented to her thought.

  Yet still his manly modesty was such

  (That his affections strongly so controlde,)