Melted like pitch as blew as any vaine,
And scalding tempests made the earth to shrinke
Under their fervor, and the world did thinke
In every drop a torturing Spirit flew,
It pierst so deeply, and it burnd so blew.
Betwixt all this and Hero, Hero held
Leanders picture as a Persean shield:
And she was free from feare of worst successe;
The more ill threats us, we suspect the lesse;
As we grow haples, violence subtle growes,
Dumb, deafe, and blind, and comes when no man knowes.
The end of the fourth Sestyad.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE FIFT SESTYAD.
Day doubles her accustomd date,
As loth the night, incenst by fate,
Should wrack our lovers; Heros plight,
Longs for Leander, and the night:
Which, ere her thirstie wish recovers,
She sends for two betrothed lovers,
And marries them, that (with their crew,
Their sports and ceremonies due)
She covertly might celebrate,
With secret joy her owne estate.
She makes a feast, at which appeares
The wilde Nymph Teras, that still beares
An Ivory Lute, tels Omenous tales,
And sings at solemne festivales.
Now was bright Hero weary of the day,
Thought an Olympiad in Leanders stay.
Sol and the soft-foote Howrs hung on his armes,
And would not let him swim, foreseeing his harmes:
That day Aurora double grace obtainde
Of her love Phoebus; she his Horses rainde,
Set on his golden knee, and as she list
She puld him back; and as she puld, she kist
To have him turne to bed; he lov’d her more,
To see the love Leander Hero bore.
Examples profit much: ten times in one,
In persons full of note, good deedes are done.
Day was so long, men walking fell asleepe,
The heavie humors that their eyes did steepe,
Made them feare mischiefs. The hard streets were beds
For covetous churles, and for ambitious heads,
That spight of Nature would their busines plie.
All thought they had the falling Epilepsie,
Men groveld so upon the smotherd ground,
And pittie did the hart of heaven confound.
The Gods, the Graces, and the Muses came
Downe to the Destinies, to stay the frame
Of the true lovers deaths, and all worlds teares:
But death before had stopt their cruell eares.
All the Celestials parted mourning then,
Pierst with our humane miseries more then men.
Ah, nothing doth the world with mischiefe fill,
But want of feeling one anothers ill.
With their descent the day grew something fayre,
And cast a brighter robe upon the ayre.
Hero to shorten time with merriment,
For yong Alcmane, and bright Mya sent,
Two lovers that had long crav’d mariage dues
At Heros hands: but she did still refuse,
For lovely Mya was her consort vowd
In her maids state, and therefore not allowd
To amorous Nuptials: yet faire Hero now
Intended to dispence with her cold vow,
Since hers was broken, and to marrie her:
The rites would pleasing matter minister
To her conceits, and shorten tedious day.
They came; sweet Musick usherd th’odorous way,
And wanton Ayre in twentie sweet forms danst
After her fingers; Beautie and Love advanst
Their ensignes in the downles rosie faces
Of youths and maids, led after by the Graces.
For all these, Hero made a friendly feast,
Welcomd them kindly, did much love protest,
Winning their harts with all the meanes she might,
That when her fault should chance t’abide the light,
Their loves might cover or extenuate it,
And high in her worst fate make pittie sit.
She married them, and in the banquet came
Borne by the virgins: Hero striv’d to frame
Her thoughts to mirth. Aye me, but hard it is
To imitate a false and forced blis.
Ill may a sad minde forge a merrie face,
Nor hath constrained laughter any grace.
Then layd she wine on cares to make them sinke;
“Who fears the threats of fortune, let him drinke.”
To these quick Nuptials entred suddenly
Admired Teras with the Ebon Thye,
A Nymph that haunted the greene Sestyan groves,
And would consort soft virgins in their loves,
At gaysome Triumphs, and on solemne dayes,
Singing prophetike Elegies and Layes:
And fingring of a silver Lute she tide,
With black and purple skarfs by her left side.
Apollo gave it, and her skill withall,
And she was term’d his Dwarfe she was so small.
Yet great in vertue, for his beames enclosde
His vertues in her: never was proposde
Riddle to her, or Augurie, strange or new,
But she resolv’d it: never sleight tale flew
From her charmd lips, without important sence,
Shewne in some grave succeeding consequence.
This little Silvane with her songs and tales,
Gave such estate to feasts and Nuptiales,
That though oft times she forewent Tragedies,
Yet for her strangenes still she pleasde their eyes,
And for her smalnes they admir’d her so,
They thought her perfect borne and could not grow.
All eyes were on her: Hero did command
An Altar deckt with sacred state should stand,
At the Feasts upper end close by the Bride,
On which the pretie Nymph might sit espide.
Then all were silent; every one so heares,
As all their sences climbd into their eares:
And first this amorous tale that fitted well
Fayre Hero and the Nuptials she did tell:
THE TALE OF TERAS.
Hymen that now is god of Nuptiall rites,
And crownes with honor Love and his delights,
Of Athens was, a youth so sweet of face,
That many thought him of the femall race:
Such quickning brightnes did his deere eyes dart,
Warme went their beames to his beholders hart.
In such pure leagues his beauties were combinde,
That there your Nuptiall contracts first were signde.
For as proportion, white and crimsine, meet
In Beauties mixture, all right deere, and sweet;
The eye responsible, the golden haire,
And none is held without the other, faire:
All spring together, all together fade;
Such intermixt affections should invade
Two perfect lovers: which being yet unseene,
Their vertues and their comforts copied beene,
In Beauties concord, subject to the eie;
And that, in Hymen, pleasde so matchleslie,
That lovers were esteemde in their full grace,
Like forme and colour mixt in Hymens face;
And such sweete concord was thought worthie then
Of torches, musick, feasts, and greatest men:
So Hymen lookt, that even the chastest minde
He mov’d to joyne in joyes of sacred kinde:
For onely now his chins first doune consorted
His heads rich fleece, in golden curles contorted;
And as he was so lov’d, he lov’d so too,
<
br /> So should best bewties, bound by Nuptialls doo.
Bright Eucharis, who was by all men saide
The noblest, fayrest, and the richest maide,
Of all th’Athenian damzels, Hymen lov’d,
With such transmission, that his heart remov’d
From his white brest to hers; but her estate
In passing his, was so interminate
For wealth and honor, that his love durst feede
On nought but sight and hearing, nor could breede
Hope of requittall, the grand prise of love;
Nor could he heare or see but he must prove
How his rare bewties musick would agree
With maids in consort: therefore robbed he
His chin of those same few first fruits it bore,
And clad in such attire, as Virgins wore,
He kept them companie, and might right well,
For he did all but Eucharis excell
In all the fayre of Beautie: yet he wanted
Vertue to make his owne desires implanted
In his deare Eucharis; for women never
Love beautie in their sex, but envie ever.
His judgement yet (that durst not suite addresse,
Nor past due meanes presume of due successe)
Reason gat fortune in the end to speede
To his best prayers: but strange it seemd indeede,
That fortune should a chast affection blesse,
“Preferment seldome graceth bashfulnesse.”
Nor grast it Hymen yet; but many a dart
And many an amorous thought enthrald his hart,
Ere he obtaind her; and he sick became,
Forst to abstaine her sight, and then the flame
Rag’d in his bosome. O what griefe did fill him:
Sight made him sick, and want of sight did kill him.
The virgins wondred where Diatia stayd,
For so did Hymen terme himselfe a mayd.
At length with sickly lookes he greeted them:
Tis strange to see gainst what an extreame streame
A lover strives; poore Hymen lookt so ill,
That as in merit he increased still,
By suffring much, so he in grace decreast.
Women are most wonne when men merit least:
If merit looke not well, love bids stand by,
Loves speciall lesson is to please the eye.
And Hymen soone recovering all he lost,
Deceiving still these maids, but himselfe most,
His love and he with many virgin dames,
Noble by birth, noble by beauties flames,
Leaving the towne with songs and hallowed lights,
To doe great Ceres Eleusina rites
Of zealous Sacrifice; were made a pray
To barbarous Rovers that in ambush lay,
And with rude hands enforst their shining spoyle,
Farre from the darkned Citie, tir’d with toyle.
And when the yellow issue of the skie
Came trouping forth, jelous of crueltie
To their bright fellowes of this under heaven,
Into a double night they saw them driven,
A horride Cave, the theeves black mansion,
Where wearie of the journey they had gon,
Their last nights watch, and drunke with their sweete gains,
Dull Morpheus entred, laden with silken chains,
Stronger then iron, and bound the swelling vaines
And tyred sences of these lawles Swaines.
But when the virgin lights thus dimly burnd;
O what a hell was heaven in! how they mournd
And wrung their hands, and wound their gentle forms
Into the shapes of sorrow! Golden storms
Fell from their eyes: As when the Sunne appeares,
And yet it raines, so shewd their eyes their teares.
And as when funerall dames watch a dead corse,
Weeping about it, telling with remorse
What paines he felt, how long in paine he lay,
How little food he eate, what he would say;
And then mixe mournfull tales of others deaths,
Smothering themselves in clowds of their owne breaths;
At length, one cheering other, call for wine,
The golden boale drinks teares out of their eine,
As they drinke wine from it; and round it goes,
Each helping other to relieve their woes:
So cast these virgins beauties mutuall raies,
One lights another, face the face displaies;
Lips by reflexion kist, and hands hands shooke,
Even by the whitenes each of other tooke.
But Hymen now usde friendly Morpheus aide,
Slew every theefe, and rescude every maide.
And now did his enamourd passion take
Hart from his hartie deede, whose worth did make
His hope of bounteous Euckaris more strong;
And now came Love with Proteus, who had long
Inggl’d the little god with prayers and gifts,
Ran through all shapes, and varied all his shifts,
To win Loves stay with him, and make him love him:
And when he saw no strength of sleight could move him
To make him love, or stay, he nimbly turnd
Into Loves selfe, he so extreamely burnd.
And thus came Love with Proteus and his powre,
T’encounter Eucharis: first like the flowre
That Junos milke did spring, the silver Lillie,
He fell on Hymens hand, who straight did spie
The bounteous Godhead, and with wondrous joy
Offred it Eucharis. She wondrous coy
Drew back her hand: the subtle flowre did woo it,
And drawing it neere, mixt so you could not know it.
As two deere Tapers mixe in one their light,
So did the Lillie and the hand their white:
She viewd it, and her view the forme bestowes
Amongst her spirits: for as colour flowes
From superficies of each thing we see,
Even so with colours formes emitted bee:
And where Loves forme is, Love is, Love is forme;
He entred at the eye, his sacred storme
Rose from the hand, Loves sweetest instrument:
It stird her bloods sea so, that high it went,
And beate in bashfull waves gainst the white shore
Of her divided cheekes; it rag’d the more,
Because the tide went gainst the haughtie winde
Of her estate and birth: And as we finde
In fainting ebs, the flowrie Zephire hurles
The greene-hayrd Hellespont, broke in silver curles,
Gainst Heros towre: but in his blasts retreate,
The waves obeying him, they after beate,
Leaving the chalkie shore a great way pale,
Then moyst it freshly with another gale:
So ebd and flowde the blood in Eucharis face,
Coynesse and Love striv’d which had greatest grace.
Virginitie did fight on Coynesse side;
Feare of her parents frownes, and femall pride,
Lothing the lower place, more then it loves
The high contents, desert and vertue moves.
With Love fought Hymens beautie and his valure,
Which scarce could so much favour yet allure
To come to strike, but fameles idle stood,
“Action is firie valours soveraigne good.”
But Love once entred, wisht no greater ayde
Then he could find within; thought, thought betrayd.
The bribde, but incorrupted Garrison,
Sung Io Hymen; there those songs begun,
And Love was growne so rich with such a game,
And wanton with the ease of his free raigne,
That he would turne into her roughest frownes
To turne
them out; and thus he Hymen crownes
King of his thoughts, mans greatest Emperie:
This was his first brave step to deitie.
Home to the mourning cittie they repayre,
With newes as holesome as the morning ayre,
To the sad parents of each saved maid:
But Hymen and his Eucharis had laid
This plat, to make the flame of their delight
Round as the Moone at full, and full as bright.
Because the parents of chast Eucharis
Exceeding Hymens so, might crosse their blis;
And as the world rewards deserts, that law
Cannot assist with force: so when they saw
Their daughter safe, take vantage of their owne,
Praise Hymens valour much, nothing bestowne:
Hymen must leave the virgins in a Grove
Farre off from Athens, and go first to prove
If to restore them all with fame and life,
He should enjoy his dearest as his wife.
This told to all the maids; the most agree:
The riper sort knowing what t’is to bee
The first mouth of a newes so farre deriv’d,
And that to heare and beare newes brave folks liv’d,
As being a carriage speciall hard to beare
Occurrents, these occurrents being so deare,
They did with grace protest, they were content
T’accost their friends with all their complement,
For Hymens good: but to incurre their harme,
There he must pardon them. This wit went warme
To Adolesches braine, a Nymph borne hie,
Made all of voyce and fire, that upwards flie:
Her hart and all her forces nether traine
Climbd to her tongue, and thither fell her braine,
Since it could goe no higher, and it must go:
All powers she had, even her tongue, did so.
In spirit and quicknes she much joy did take,
And lov’d her tongue, only for quicknes sake,
And she would hast and tell. The rest all stay,
Hymen goes one, the Nymph another way:
And what became of her Ile tell at last:
Yet take her visage now: moyst lipt, long fa’st,
Thin like an iron wedge, so sharpe and tart,
As twere of purpose made to cleave Loves hart.
Well were this lovely Beautie rid of her,
And Hymen did at Athens now prefer
His welcome suite, which he with joy aspirde:
A hundred princely youths with him retirde
To fetch the Nymphs: Chariots and Musick went,
And home they came: heaven with applauses rent.
The Nuptials straight proceed, whiles all the towne,
Fresh in their joyes might doe them most renowne.
First gold-lockt Hymen did to Church repaire,
Like a quick offring burnd in flames of haire.
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 16