But let’s amongst our selues agree,
Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.
Claia. Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues,
Most curiously laid on in Threaues: 70
And all embroydery to supply,
Powthred with flowers of Rosemary:
A trayle about the skirt shall runne,
The Silkewormes finest, newly spunne;
And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew
With th’ smallest of the Spinners Clue:
And hauing done their worke, againe
These to the Church shall beare her Traine:
Which for our Tita we will make
Of the cast slough of a Snake, 80
Which quiuering as the winde doth blow,
The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.
Cloris. And being led to meet her mate,
To make sure that she want no state,
Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee’ll shred,
With feathers from the Pheasants head:
Mix’d with the plume of (so high price,)
The precious bird of Paradice.
Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply
Into a curious Canopy. 90
Borne o’re her head (by our enquiry)
By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.
Mertilla. But all this while we haue forgot
Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?
Claia. We had, for those I’le fit her now,
They shall be of the Lady-Cow:
The dainty shell vpon her backe
Of Crimson strew’d with spots of blacke;
Which as she holds a stately pace,
Her Leg will wonderfully grace. 100
Cloris. But then for musicke of the best,
This must be thought on for the Feast.
Mertilla. The Nightingale of birds most choyce,
To doe her best shall straine her voyce;
And to this bird to make a Set,
The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet;
The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush,
That make a Quier of euery Bush.
But for still musicke, we will keepe
The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe 110
Shall sing the Bride, when shee’s alone
The rest into their chambers gone.
And like those vpon Ropes that walke
On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke,
The tripping Fayry tricks shall play
The euening of the wedding day.
Claia. But for the Bride-bed, what were fit,
That hath not beene talk’d of yet.
Cloris. Of leaues of Roses white and red,
Shall be the Couering of her bed: 120
The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all,
Shall be the flower Imperiall,
And for the Fringe, it all along
With azure Harebels shall be hung:
Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be,
With downe stuft of the Butterflee.
Mertilla. Thus farre we handsomely haue gone,
Now for our Prothalamion
Or Marriage song of all the rest,
A thing that much must grace our feast. 130
Let vs practise then to sing it,
Ere we before th’ assembly bring it:
We in Dialogues must doe it,
The my dainty Girles set to it.
Claia. This day must Tita marryed be,
Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see.
Mertilla. But is it certaine that ye say,
Will she wed the Noble Faye?
Cloris. Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes,
Such as the Gods at Banquets vse: 140
Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses,
And make proud the posts with posies:
Shute your sweets into the ayre,
Charge the morning to be fayre.
Claia. } For our Tita is this day,
Mertilla. } To be married to a Faye.
Claia. By whom then shall our Bride be led
To the Temple to be wed.
Mertilla. Onely by your selfe and I,
Who that roomth should else supply? 150
Cloris. Come bright Girles, come altogether,
And bring all your offrings hither,
Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye,
All your goodly graces Leuye,
Come in Maiestie and state
Our Brydall here to celebrate.
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Faye.
Claia. Whose lot wilt be the way to strow
On which to Church our Bride must goe? 160
Mertilla. That I think as fit’st of all,
To liuely Lelipa will fall.
Cloris. Summon all the sweets that are,
To this nuptiall to repayre;
Till with their throngs themselues they smother,
Strongly styfling one another;
And at last they all consume,
And vanish in one rich perfume.
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Faye. 170
Mertilla. By whom must Tita married be,
’Tis fit we all to that should see?
Claia. The Priest he purposely doth come,
Th’ Arch Flamyne of Elizium.
Cloris. With Tapers let the Temples shine,
Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine:
Load the Altars till there rise
Clouds from the burnt sacrifice;
With your Sensors fling aloofe
Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe. 180
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Fay.
Mertilla. But comming backe when she is wed,
Who breakes the Cake aboue her head.
Claia. That shall Mertilla, for shee’s tallest,
And our Tita is the smallest.
Cloris. Violins, strike vp aloud,
Ply the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd,
Let the nimble hand belabour
The whistling Pipe, and drumbling Taber: 190
To the full the Bagpipe racke,
Till the swelling leather cracke.
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Fay.
Claia. But when to dyne she takes her seate
What shall be our Tita’s meate?
Mertilla. The Gods this Feast, as to begin,
Haue sent of their Ambrosia in.
Cloris. Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry,
The Respas, and Elizian Cherry: 200
The virgin honey from the flowers
In Hibla, wrought in Flora’s bowers:
Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle
Carouse but in dissolued Pearle.
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Fay.
Claia. But when night comes, and she must goe
To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?
Mertilla. In the Posset must be brought,
And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught. 210
Cloris. In Maskes, in Dances, and delight,
And reare Banquets spend the night:
Then about the Roome we ramble,
Scatter Nuts, and for them scramble:
Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble,
Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble.
Mertilla. } For our Tita is this day,
Claia. } Married to a noble Fay.
THE NINTH NIMPHALL
MVSES and NIMPHS.
The Muses spend their lofty layes,
Vpon Apollo and his prayse;
The Nimphs with Gems his Alter build,
This Nimphall is with Phœbus fild.
A Temple of exceeding state,
The Nimphes and Muses rearing,
Which they to Phœbus dedicate,
Elizium eu
er cheering:
These Muses, and those Nimphes contend
This Phane to Phœbus offring,
Which side the other should transcend,
These praise, those prizes proffering,
And at this long appointed day,
Each one their largesse bringing, 10
Those nine faire Sisters led the way
Thus to Apollo singing.
The Muses. Thou youthfull God that guid’st the howres,
The Muses thus implore thee,
By all those Names, due to thy powers,
By which we still adore thee.
Sol, Tytan, Delius, Cynthius, styles
Much reuerence that have wonne thee,
Deriu’d from Mountaines as from Iles
Where worship first was done thee. 20
Rich Delos brought thee forth diuine,
Thy Mother thither driven,
At Delphos thy most sacred shrine,
Thy Oracles were giuen.
In thy swift course from East to West,
They minutes misse to finde thee,
That bear’st the morning on thy breast,
And leau’st the night behinde thee.
Vp to Olimpus top so steepe,
Thy startling Coursers currying; 30
Thence downe to Neptunes vasty deepe,
Thy flaming Charriot hurrying.
Eos, Ethon, Phlegon, Pirois, proud,
The horses Their lightning Maynes aduancing:
drawing the Breathing forth fire on euery cloud
Chariot of Vpon their Iourney prancing.
the Sunne. Whose sparkling hoofes, with gold for speed
Are shod, to scape all dangers,
Where they upon Ambrosia feed,
In their celestiall Mangers. 40
The Bright Colatina, that of hils
mountaines Is Goddesse, and hath keeping
first Her Nimphes, the cleere Oreades wils
saluting the T’attend thee from thy sleeping.
Sunne at his Great *Demogorgon feeles thy might,
rising. His Mynes about him heating:
* Supposed Who through his bosome dart’st thy light,
the God of Within the Center sweating.
earth. If thou but touch thy golden Lyre,
Thou Minos mou’st to heare thee: 50
One of the The Rockes feele in themselues a fire,
Iudges of And rise vp to come neere thee.
hell. ’Tis thou that Physicke didst deuise
Hearbs by their natures calling:
Of which some opening at thy Rise,
And closing at thy falling.
Fayre Hyacinth thy most lou’d Lad,
That with the sledge thou sluest;
Hath in a flower the life he had,
Whose root thou still renewest, 60
Thy Daphne thy beloued Tree,
That scornes thy Fathers Thunder,
And thy deare Clitia yet we see,
A Nimph lou’d Not time from thee can sunder;
of Apollo, From thy bright Bow that Arrow flew
and by him (Snatcht from thy golden Quiver)
changed into Which that fell Serpent Python slew,
a flower. Renowning thee for euer.
The Actian and the Pythian Games
Playes or Deuised were to praise thee, 70
Games in With all th’ Apolinary names
honor of That th’ Ancients thought could raise thee.
Apollo. A Shryne vpon this Mountaine hie,
To thee we’ll haue erected,
Which thou the God of Poesie
Must care to haue protected:
With thy loud Cinthus that shall share,
With all his shady Bowers,
Nor Licia’s Cragus shall compare
With this, for thee, of ours. 80
Thus hauing sung, the Nimphish Crue
Thrust in amongst them thronging,
Desiring they might haue the due
That was to them belonging.
Quoth they, ye Muses as diuine,
Are in his glories graced,
But it is we must build the Shryne
Wherein they must be placed;
Which of those precious Gemmes we’ll make
That Nature can affoord vs, 90
Which from that plenty we will take,
Wherewith we here have stor’d vs:
O glorious Phœbus most diuine,
Thine Altars then we hallow.
And with those stones we build a Shryne
To thee our wise Apollo.
The Nimphes. No Gem, from Rocke, Seas, running streames,
(Their numbers let vs muster)
But hath from thy most powerfull beames
The Vertue and the Lustre; 100
The Diamond, the King of Gemmes,
The first is to be placed,
That glory is of Diadems,
Them gracing, by them graced:
In whom thy power the most is seene,
The raging fire refelling:
The Emerauld then, most deepely greene,
For beauty most excelling,
Resisting poyson often prou’d
By those about that beare it. 110
The cheerfull Ruby then, much lou’d,
That doth reuiue the spirit,
Whose kinde to large extensure growne
The colour so enflamed,
Is that admired mighty stone
The Carbunckle that’s named,
Which from it such a flaming light
And radiency eiecteth,
That in the very dark’st of night
The eye to it directeth. 120
The yellow Iacynth, strengthening Sense,
Of which who hath the keeping,
No Thunder hurts nor Pestilence,
And much prouoketh sleeping:
The Chrisolite, that doth resist
Thirst, proued, neuer failing,
The purple colored Amatist,
‘Gainst strength of wine prevailing;
The verdant gay greene Smaragdus,
Most soueraine ouer passion: 130
The Sardonix approu’d by vs
To master Incantation.
Then that celestiall colored stone
The Saphyre, heauenly wholly,
Which worne, there wearinesse is none,
And cureth melancholly:
The Lazulus, whose pleasant blew
With golden vaines is graced;
The Iaspis, of so various hew,
Amongst our other placed; 140
The Onix from the Ancients brought,
Of wondrous Estimation,
Shall in amongst the rest be wrought
Our sacred Shryne to fashion;
The Topas, we’ll stick here and there,
And sea-greene colored Berill,
And Turkesse, which who haps to beare
Is often kept from perill,
To Selenite, of Cynthia’s light,
So nam’d, with her still ranging, 150
Which as she wanes or waxeth bright
Its colours so are changing.
With Opalls, more then any one,
We’ll deck thine Altar fuller,
For that of euery precious stone,
It doth retaine some colour;
With bunches of Pearle Paragon
Thine Altars vnderpropping,
Whose base is the Cornelian,
Strong bleeding often stopping: 160
With th’ Agot, very oft that is
Cut strangely in the Quarry,
As Nature ment to show in this,
How she her selfe can varry:
With worlds of Gems from Mines and Seas
Elizium well might store vs:
But we content our selues with these
That readiest lye before vs:
And thus O Phœbus most diuine
Thine Altars still we hallow, 170
And to thy Godhead
reare this Shryne
Our onely wise Apollo.
THE TENTH NIMPHALL
NAIIS, CLAIA, CORBILVS, SATYRE.
A Satyre on Elizium lights,
Whose vgly shape the Nimphes affrights,
Yet when they heare his iust complaint,
They make him an Elizian Saint.
Corbilus.
What; breathles Nimphs? bright Virgins let me know
What suddaine cause constraines ye to this haste?
What haue ye seene that should affright ye so?
What might it be from which ye flye so fast?
I see your faces full of pallid feare,
As though some perill followed on your flight;
Take breath a while, and quickly let me heare
Into what danger ye haue lately light.
Naijs. Neuer were poore distressed Gerles so glad,
As when kinde, loued Corbilus we saw, 10
When our much haste vs so much weakned had,
That scarcely we our wearied breathes could draw,
In this next Groue vnder an aged Tree,
So fell a monster lying there we found,
As till this day, our eyes did neuer see,
Nor euer came on the Elizian ground.
Halfe man, halfe Goate, he seem’d to vs in show,
His vpper parts our humane shape doth beare,
But he’s a very perfect Goat below,
His crooked Cambrils arm’d with hoofe and hayre. 20
Claia. Through his leane Chops a chattering he doth make
Which stirres his staring beastly driueld Beard,
And his sharpe hornes he seem’d at vs to shake,
Canst thou then blame vs though we are afeard.
Corbilus. Surely it seemes some Satyre this should be,
Come and goe back and guide me to the place,
Be not affraid, ye are safe enough with me,
Silly and harmlesse be their Siluan Race.
Claia. How Corbilus; a Satyre doe you say?
How should he ouer high Parnassus hit? 30
Since to these fields there’s none can finde the way,
But onely those the Muses will permit.
Corbilus. ’Tis true; but oft, the sacred Sisters grace
The silly Satyre, by whose plainnesse, they
Are taught the worlds enormities to trace,
By beastly mens abhominable way;
Besyde he may be banisht his owne home
By this base time, or be so much distrest,
That he the craggy by-clift Hill hath clome
To finde out these more pleasant Fields of rest. 40
Naijs. Yonder he sits, and seemes himselfe to bow
At our approach, what doth our presence awe him?
Me thinks he seemes not halfe so vgly now,
As at the first, when I and Claia saw him.
Corbilus. ’Tis an old Satyre, Nimph, I now discerne,
Sadly he sits, as he were sick or lame,
His lookes would say, that we may easly learne
Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works Page 168