Chivalry Throng'd to the Lists and envy'd to behold The Names of others not their own inroll'd Nor seems it strange for ev'ry Noble Knight Who loves the Fair and is endu'd with Might In such a Quarrel wou'd be proud to fight There breaths not scarce a Man on British Ground An Isle for Love and Arms of old renown'd But would have 〈◊〉 his Life to puchase Fame To Palamon or Arcite sent his Name And had the Land selected of the best Half had come hence and let the World provide the rest A hundred Knights with Palamon there came Approv'd in Fight and Men of mighty Name Their Arms were sev'ral as their Nations were But furnish'd all alike with Sword and Spear Some wore Coat-armour imitating Scale And next their 〈◊〉 were stubborn Shirts of Mail. Some wore a Breastplate and a light Juppon Their Horses cloth'd with rich Caparison Some for Defence would Leathern Bucklers use Of folded Hides and others Shields of Pruce One hung a Poleax at his Saddle-bow And one a heavy Mace to stun the Foe One for his Legs and Knees provided well With Jambeux arm'd and double Plates of Steel This on his Helmet wore a Ladies Glove And that a Sleeve embroider'd by his Love With Palamon above the rest in Place Lycurgus came the surly King of Thrace Black was his Beard and manly was his Face The Balls of his broad Eyes roll'd in his Head And glar'd betwixt a Yellow and a Red He look'd a Lion with a gloomy Stare And o'er his Eye-brows hung his matted Hair Big-bon'd and large of Limbs with Sinews strong Broad-shoulder'd and his Arms were round and long Four Milk-white Bulls the Thracian Use of old Were yok'd to draw his Car of burnish'd Gold Upright he stood and bore aloft his Shield Conspicuous from afar and over-look'd the Field His Surcoat was a Bear-skin on his Back His Hair hung long behind and glossy Raven-black His ample Forehead bore a Coronet With sparkling Diamonds and with Rubies set Ten Brace and more of Greyhounds snowy fair And tall as Stags ran loose and cours'd around his Chair A Match for Pards in flight in grappling for the Bear With Golden Muzzles all their Mouths were bound And Collars of the same their Necks surround Thus thro' the Fields Lycurgus took his way His hundred Knights attend in Pomp and proud Array To match this Monarch with strong Arcite came Emetrius King of Inde a mighty Name On a Bay Courser goodly to behold The Trappings of his Horse emboss'd with barb'rous Gold Not Mars bestrode a Steed with greater Grace His Surcoat o'er his Arms was Cloth of Thrace Adorn'd with Pearls all Orient round and great His Saddle was of Gold with Emeralds set His Shoulders large a Mantle did attire With Rubies thick and sparkling as the Fire His Amber-colour'd Locks in Ringlets run With graceful Negligence and shone against the Sun His Nose was Aquiline his Eyes were blue Ruddy his Lips and fresh and fair his Hue Some sprinkled Freckles on his Face were seen Whose Dusk set off the Whiteness of the Skin His awful Presence did the Crowd surprize Nor durst the rash Spectator meet his Eyes Eyes that confess'd him born for Kingly Sway So fierce they flash'd intolerable Day His Age in Nature's youthful Prime appear'd And just began to bloom his yellow Beard Whene'er he spoke his Voice was heard around Loud as a Trumpet with a Silver Sound A Laurel wreath'd his Temples fresh and green And Myrtle-springs the Marks of Love were mix'd between Upon his Fist he bore for his Delight An Eagle well reclaim'd and Lilly-white His hundred Knights attend him to the War All arm'd for Battel save their Heads were bare Words and Devices blaz'd on ev'ry Shield And pleasing was the Terrour of the Field For Kings and Dukes and Barons you might see Like sparkling Stars though diff'rent in Degree All for th' Increase of Arms and Love of Chivalry Before the King tame Leopards led the way And Troops of Lions innocently play So Bacchus through the conquer'd Indies rode And Beasts in Gambols frisk'd before their honest God In this Array the War of either Side Through Athens pass'd with Military Pride At Prime they enter'd on the Sunday Morn Rich Tap'stry spread the Streets and Flowr's the Pots adorn The Town was all a Jubilee of Feasts So Theseus will'd in Honour of his Guests Himself with open Arms the Kings embrac'd Then all the rest in their Degrees were grac'd No Harbinger was needful for the Night For ev'ry House was proud to lodge a Knight I pass the Royal Treat nor must relate The Gifts bestow'd nor how the Champions sate Who first who last or how the Knights address'd Their Vows or who was fairest at the Feast Whose Voice whose graceful Dance did most surprise Soft am'rous Sighs and silent Love of Eyes The Rivals call my Muse another way To sing their Vigils for th' ensuing Day 'T was ebbing Darkness past the Noon of Night And Phospher on the Confines of the Light Promis'd the Sun e'er Day began to spring The tuneful Lark already stretch'd her Wing And flick'ring on her Nest made short Essays to sing When wakeful Palamon preventing Day Took to the Royal Lists his early way To Venus at her Fane in her own House to pray There falling on his Knees before her Shrine He thus implor'd with Pray'rs her Pow'r Divine Creator Venus Genial Pow'r of Love The Bliss of Men below and Gods above Beneath the sliding Sun thou runn'st thy Race Dost fairest shine and best become thy Place For thee the Winds their Eastern Blasts forbear Thy Month reveals the Spring and opens all the Year Thee Goddess thee the Storms of Winter fly Earth smiles with Flow'rs renewing laughs the Sky And Birds to Lays of Love their tuneful Notes apply For thee the Lion loaths the Taste of Blood And roaring hunts his Female through the Wood For thee the Bulls rebellow through the Groves And tempt the Stream and snuff their absent Loves 'T is thine whate'er is pleasant good or fair All Nature is thy Province Life thy Care Thou mad'st the World and dost the World repair Thou Gladder of the Mount of Cytheron Increase of Jove Companion of the Sun If e'er Adonis touch'd thy tender Heart Have pity Goddess for thou know'st the Smart Alas I have not Words to tell my Grief To vent my Sorrow wou'd be some Relief Light Suff'rings give us leisure to complain We groan but cannot speak in greater Pain O Goddess tell thy self what I would say Thou know'st it and I feel too much to pray So grant my Suit as I enforce my Might In Love to be thy Champion and thy Knight A Servant to thy Sex a Slave to thee A Foe profest to barren Chastity Nor ask I Fame or Honour of the Field Nor chuse I more to vanquish than to yield In my Divine Emilia make me blest Let Fate or partial Chance dispose the rest Find thou the
the bloomy Gridelin The Borders of their Petticoats below Were guarded thick with Rubies on a-row And ev'ry Damsel wore upon her Head Of Flow'rs a Garland blended White and Red. Attir'd in Mantles all the Knights were seen That gratify'd the View with chearful Green Their Chaplets of their Ladies Colours were Compos'd of White and Red to shade their shining Hair Before the merry Troop the Minstrels play'd All in their Master's Liveries were array'd And clad in Green and on their Temples wore The Chaplets White and Red their Ladies bore Their Instruments were various in their kind Some for the Bow and some for breathing Wind The Sawtry Pipe and Hautbois noisy band And the soft Lute trembling beneath the touching Hand A Tuft of Dasies on a flow'ry Lay They saw and thitherward they bent their way To this both Knights and Dames their Homage made And due Obeisance to the Daisy paid And then the Band of Flutes began to play To which a Lady sung a Virelay And still at ev'ry close she wou'd repeat The Burden of the Song The Daisy is so sweet The Daisy is so sweet when she begun The Troop of Knights and Dames continu'd on The Concert and the Voice so charm'd my Ear And sooth'd my Soul that it was Heav'n to hear But soon their Pleasure pass'd At Noon of Day The Sun with sultry Beams began to play Not Syrius shoots a fiercer Flame from high When with his pois'nous Breath he blasts the Sky Then droop'd the fading Flow'rs their Beauty fled And clos'd their sickly Eyes and hung the Head And rivell'd up with Heat lay dying in their Bed The Ladies gasp'd and scarcely could respire The Breath they drew no longer Air but Fire The fainty Knights were scorch'd and knew not where To run for Shelter for no Shade was near And after this the gath'ring Clouds amain Pour'd down a Storm of rattling Hail and Rain And Lightning flash'd betwixt The Field and Flow'rs Burnt up before were bury'd in the Show'rs The Ladies and the Knights no Shelter nigh Bare to the Weather and the wintry Sky Were dropping wet disconsolate and wan And through their thin Array receiv'd the Rain While those in White protected by the Tree Saw pass the vain Assault and stood from Danger free But as Compassion mov'd their gentle Minds When ceas'd the Storm and silent were the Winds Displeas'd at what not suff'ring they had seen They went to chear the Faction of the Green The Queen in white Array before her Band Saluting took her Rival by the Hand So did the Knights and Dames with courtly Grace And with Behaviour sweet their Foes embrace Then thus the Queen with Lawrel on her Brow Fair Sister I have suffer'd in your Woe Nor shall be wanting ought within my Pow'r For your Relief in my refreshing Bow'r That other answer'd with a lowly Look And soon the gracious Invitation took For ill at ease both she and all her Train The scorching Sun had born and beating Rain Like Courtesy was us'd by all in White Each Dame a Dame receiv'd and ev'ry Knight a Knight The Lawrel-Champions with their Swords invade The neighb'ring Forests where the Justs were made And Serewood from the rotten Hedges took And Seeds of Latent-Fire from Flints provoke A chearful Blaze arose and by the Fire They warm'd their frozen Feet and dry'd their wet Attire Refresh'd with Heat the Ladies sought around For virtuous Herbs which gather'd from the Ground They squeez'd the Juice and cooling Ointment made Which on their Sun-burnt Cheeks and their chapt Skins they Then sought green Salads which they bad 'em eat laid A Soveraign Remedy for inward Heat The Lady of the Leaf ordain'd a Feast And made the Lady of the Flow'r her Guest When lo a Bow'r ascended on the Plain With suddain Seats adorn'd and large for either Train This Bow'r was near my pleasant Arbour plac'd That I could hear and see whatever pass'd The Ladies sat with each a Knight between Distinguish'd by their Colours White and Green The vanquish'd Party with the Victors join'd Nor wanted sweet Discourse the Banquet of the Mind Mean time the Minstrels play'd on either side Vain of their Art and for the Mast'ry vy'd The sweet Contention lasted for an Hour And reach'd my secret Arbour from the Bow'r The Sun was set and Vesper to supply His absent Beams had lighted up the Sky When Philomel officious all the Day To sing the Service of th' ensuing May Fled from her Lawrel Shade and wing'd her Flight Directly to the Queen array'd in White And hopping sate familiar on her Hand A new Musitian and increas'd the Band. The Goldfinch who to shun the scalding Heat Had chang'd the Medlar for a safer Seat And hid in Bushes scap'd the bitter Show'r Now perch'd upon the Lady of the Flow'r And either Songster holding out their Throats And folding up their Wings renew'd their Notes As if all Day preluding to the Fight They only had rehears'd to sing by Night The Banquet ended and the Battle done They danc'd by Star-light and the friendly Moon And when they were to part the Laureat Queen Supply'd with Steeds the Lady of the Green Her and her Train conducting on the way The Moon to follow and avoid the Day This when I saw inquisitive to know The secret Moral of the Mystique Show I started from my Shade in hopes to find Some Nymph to satisfy my longing Mind And as my fair Adventure fell I found A Lady all in White with Lawrel crown'd Who clos'd the Rear and softly pac'd along Repeating to her self the former Song With due respect my Body I inclin'd As to some Being of Superiour Kind And made my Court according to the Day Wishing her Queen and Her a happy May. Great Thanks my Daughter with a gracious Bow She said and I who much desir'd to know Of whence she was yet fearful how to break My Mind adventur'd humbly thus to speak Madam Might I presume and not offend So may the Stars and shining Moon attend Your Nightly Sports as you vouchsafe to tell What Nymphs they were who mortal Forms excel And what the Knights who fought in listed Fields so well To this the Dame reply'd Fair Daughter know That what you saw was all a Fairy Show And all those airy Shapes you now behold Were humane Bodies once and cloath'd with earthly Mold Our Souls not yet prepar'd for upper Light Till Doomsday wander in the Shades of Night This only Holiday of all the Year We priviledg'd in Sun-shine may appear With Songs and Dance we celebrate the Day And with due Honours usher in the May. At other Times we reign by Night alone And posting through the Skies pursue the Moon But when the Morn arises none are found For cruel Demogorgon walks the round And if he finds a Fairy lag in Light He drives the Wretch before and lashes into Night All Courteous are by Kind and ever proud With friendly Offices to help the
run Riot and transgress the Goal And therefore I conclude whatever lies In Earth or flits in Air or fills the Skies All suffer change and we that are of Soul And Body mix'd are Members of the whole Then when our Sires or Grandsires shall forsake The Forms of Men and brutal Figures take Thus hous'd securely let their Spirits rest Nor violate thy Father in the Beast Thy Friend thy Brother any of thy Kin If none of these yet there 's a Man within O spare to make a Thyestaean Meal T' inclose his Body and his Soul expel Ill Customs by degrees to Habits rise Ill Habits soon become exalted Vice What more advance can Mortals make in Sin So near Perfection who with Blood begin Deaf to the Calf that lies beneath the Knife Looks up and from her Butcher begs her Life Deaf to the harmless Kid that e'er he dies All Methods to procure thy Mercy tries And imitates in vain thy Children's Cries Where will he stop who feeds with Houshold Bread Then eats the Poultry which before he fed Let plough thy Steers that when they lose their Breath To Nature not to thee they may impute their Death Let Goats for Food their loaded Udders lend And Sheep from Winter-cold thy Sides defend But neither Sprindges Nets nor Snares employ And be no more Ingenious to destroy Free as in Air let Birds on Earth remain Nor let insidious Glue their Wings constrain Nor opening Hounds the trembling Stag affright Nor purple Feathers intercept his Flight Nor Hooks conceal'd in Baits for Fish prepare Nor Lines to heave 'em twinkling up in Air. Take not away the Life you cannot give For all Things have an equal right to live Kill noxious Creatures where 't is Sin to save This only just Prerogative we have But nourish Life with vegetable Food And shun the sacrilegious tast of Blood These Precepts by the Samian Sage were taught Which Godlike Numa to the Sabines brought And thence transferr'd to Rome by Gift his own A willing People and an offer'd Throne O happy Monarch sent by Heav'n to bless A Salvage Nation with soft Arts of Peace To teach Religion Rapine to restrain Give Laws to Lust and Sacrifice ordain Himself a Saint a Goddess was his Bride And all the Muses o'er his Acts preside THE CHARACTER OF A Good Parson Imitated from CHAUCER And Inlarg'd A Parish-Priest was of the Pilgrim-Train An Awful Reverend and Religious Man His Eyes diffus'd a venerable Grace And Charity it self was in his Face Rich was his Soul though his Attire was poor As God had cloath'd his own Embassador For such on Earth his bless'd Redeemer bore Of Sixty Years he seem'd and well might last To Sixty more but that he liv'd too fast Refin'd himself to Soul to curb the Sense And made almost a Sin of Abstinence Yet had his Aspect nothing of severe But such a Face as promis'd him sincere Nothing reserv'd or sullen was to see But sweet Regards and pleasing Sanctity Mild was his Accent and his Action free With Eloquence innate his Tongue was arm'd Tho' harsh the Precept yet the Preacher charm'd For letting down the golden Chain from high He drew his Audience upward to the Sky And oft with holy Hymns he charm'd their Ears A Musick more melodious than the Spheres For David left him when he went to rest His Lyre and after him he sung the best He bore his great Commission in his Look But sweetly temper'd Awe and soften'd all he spoke He preach'd the Joys of Heav'n and Pains of Hell And warn'd the Sinner with becoming Zeal But on Eternal Mercy lov'd to dwell He taught the Gospel rather than the Law And forc'd himself to drive but lov'd to draw For Fear but freezes Minds but Love like Heat Exhales the Soul sublime to seek her Native Seat To Threats the stubborn Sinner oft is hard Wrap'd in his Crimes against the Storm prepar'd But when the milder Beams of Mercy play He melts and throws his cumb'rous Cloak away Lightnings and Thunder Heav'ns Artillery As Harbingers before th' Almighty fly Those but proclaim his Stile and disappear The stiller Sound succeeds and God is there The Tythes his Parish freely paid he took But never Su'd or Curs'd with Bell and Book With Patience bearing wrong but off ring none Since every Man is free to lose his own The Country-Churles according to their Kind Who grudge their Dues and love to be behind The less he sought his Off'rings pinch'd the more And prais'd a Priest contented to be Poor Yet of his little he had some to spare To feed the Famish'd and to cloath the Bare For Mortify'd he was to that degree A poorer than himself he wou'd not see True Priests he said and Preachers of the Word Were only Stewards of their Soveraign Lord Nothing was theirs but all the publick Store Intrusted Riches to relieve the Poor Who shou'd they steal for want of his Relief He judg'd himself Accomplice with the Thief Wide was his Parish not contracted close In Streets but here and there a straggling House Yet still he was at Hand without Request To serve the Sick to succour the Distress'd Tempting on Foot alone without affright The Dangers of a dark tempestuous Night All this the good old Man perform'd alone Nor spar'd his Pains for Curate he had none Nor durst he trust another with his Care Nor rode himself to Pauls the publick Fair To chaffer for Preferment with his Gold Where Bishopricks and sine Cures are fold But duly watch'd his Flock by Night and Day And from the prowling Wolf redeem'd the Prey And hungry sent the wily Fox away The Proud he tam'd the Penitent he chear'd Nor to rebuke the rich Offender fear'd His Preaching much but more his Practice wrought A living Sermon of the Truths he taught For this by Rules severe his Life he squar'd That all might see the Doctrin which they heard For Priests he said are Patterns for the rest The Gold of Heav'n who bear the God Impress'd But when the precious Coin is kept unclean The Soveraign's Image is no longer seen If they be foul on whom the People trust Well may the baser Brass contract a Rust. The Prelate for his Holy Life he priz'd The worldly Pomp of Prelacy despis'd His Saviour came not with a gawdy Show Nor was his Kingdom of the World below Patience in Want and Poverty of Mind These Marks of Church and Churchmen he design'd And living taught and dying left behind The Crown he wore was of the pointed Thorn In Purple he was Crucify'd not born They who contend for Place and high Degree Are not his Sons but those of Zebadee Not but he knew the Signs of Earthly Pow'r Might well become St. Peter's Successor The Holy Father holds a double Reign The Prince may keep his Pomp the Fisher must be plain Such was the Saint who shone with every Grace Reflecting Moses-like his Maker's Face God saw his Image lively was express'd
Greenwood-shade he took his way For Cymon shun'd the Church and us'd not much to Pray His Quarter-Staff which he cou'd ne'er forsake Hung half before and half behind his Back He trudg'd along unknowing what he sought And whistled as he went for want of Thought By Chance conducted or by Thirst constrain'd The deep Recesses of the Grove he gain'd Where in a Plain defended by the Wood Crept through the matted Grass a Chrystal Flood By which an Alablaster Fountain stood And on the Margin of the Fount was laid Attended by her Slaves a sleeping Maid Like Dian and her Nymphs when tir'd with Sport To rest by cool Eurotas they resort The Dame herself the Goddess well express'd Not more distinguish'd by her Purple Vest Than by the charming Features of her Face And ev'n in Slumber a superiour Grace Her comely Limbs compos'd with decent Care Her Body shaded with a slight Cymarr Her Bosom to the view was only bare Where two beginning Paps were scarcely spy'd For yet their Places were but signify'd The fanning Wind upon her Bosom blows To meet the fanning Wind the Bosom rose The fanning Wind and purling Streams continue her repose The Fool of Nature stood with stupid Eyes And gaping Mouth that testify'd Surprize Fix'd on her Face nor cou'd remove his Sight New as he was to Love and Novice in Delight Long mute he stood and leaning on his Staff His Wonder witness'd with an Ideot laugh Then would have spoke but by his glimmering Sense First found his want of Words and fear'd Offence Doubted for what he was he should be known By his Clown-Accent and his Country-Tone Through the rude Chaos thus the running Light Shot the first Ray that pierc'd the Native Night Then Day and Darkness in the Mass were mix'd Till gather'd in a Globe the Beams were fix'd Last shon the Sun who radiant in his Sphere Illumin'd Heav'n and Earth and rowl'd around the Year So Reason in this Brutal Soul began Love made him first suspect he was a Man Love made him doubt his broad barbarian Sound By Love his want of Words and Wit he found That sense of want prepar'd the future way To Knowledge and discols'd the promise of a Day What not his Father's Care nor Tutor's Art Cou'd plant with Pains in his unpolish'd Heart The best Instructor Love at once inspir'd As barren Grounds to Fruitfulness are fir'd Love taught him Shame and Shame with Love at Strife Soon taught the sweet Civilities of Life His gross material Soul at once could find Somewhat in her excelling all her Kind Exciting a Desire till then unknown Somewhat unfound or found in her alone This made the first Impression in his Mind Above but just above the Brutal Kind For Beasts can like but not distinguish too Nor their own liking by reflection know Nor why they like or this or t'other Face Or judge of this or that peculiar Grace But love in gross and stupidly admire As Flies allur'd by Light approach the Fire Thus our Man-Beast advancing by degrees First likes the whole than sep'rates what he sees On sev'ral Parts a sev'ral Praise bestows The ruby Lips the well-proportion'd Nose The snowy Skin the Raven-glossy Hair The dimpled Cheek the Forehead rising fair And ev'n in Sleep it self a smiling Air. From thence his Eyes descending view'd the rest Her plump round Arms white Hands and heaving Breast Long on the last he dwelt though ev'ry part A pointed Arrow sped to pierce his Heart Thus in a trice a Judge of Beauty grown A Judge erected from a Country-Clown He long'd to see her Eyes in Slumber bid And wish'd his own cou'd pierce within the Lid He wou'd have wak'd her but restrain'd his Thought And Love new-born the first good Manners taught An awful Fear his ardent Wish withstood Nor durst disturb the Goddess of the Wood For such she seem'd by her celestial Face Excelling all the rest of human Race And Things divine by common Sense he knew Must be devoutly seen at distant view So checking his Desire with trembling Heart Gazing he stood nor would nor could depart Fix'd as a Pilgrim wilder'd in his way Who dares not stir by Night for fear to stray But stands with awful Eyes to watch the dawn of Day At length awaking Iphigene the Fair So was the Beauty call'd who caus'd his Care Unclos'd her Eyes and double Day reveal'd While those of all her Slaves in Sleep were seal'd The slavering Cudden prop'd upon his Staff Stood ready gaping with a grinning Laugh To welcome her awake nor durst begin To speak but wisely kept the Fool within Then she What make you Cymon here alone For Cymon's Name was round the Country known Because descended of a noble Race And for a Soul ill sorted with his Face But still the Sot stood silent with Surprize With fix'd regard on her new open'd Eyes And in his Breast receiv'd th' invenom'd Dart A tickling Pain that pleas'd amid the Smart But conscious of her Form with quick distrust She saw his sparkling Eyes and fear'd his brutal Lust This to prevent she wak'd her sleepy Crew And rising hasty took a short Adieu Then Cymon first his rustick Voice essay'd With proffer'd Service to the parting Maid To see her safe his Hand she long deny'd But took at length asham'd of such a Guide So Cymon led her home and leaving there No more wou'd to his Country Clowns repair But sought his Father's House with better Mind Refusing in the Farm to be confin'd The Father wonder'd at the Son's return And knew not whether to rejoice or mourn But doubtfully receiv'd expecting still To learn the secret Causes of his alter'd Will Nor was he long delay'd the first Request He made was like his Brothers to be dress'd And as his Birth requir'd above the rest With ease his Sute was granted by his Syre Distinguishing his Heir by rich Attire His Body thus adorn'd he next design'd With lib'ral Arts to cultivate his Mind He sought a Tutor of his own accord And study'd Lessons he before abhorr'd Thus the Man-Child advanc'd and learn'd so fast That in short time his Equals he surpass'd His brutal Manners from his Breast exil'd His Mien he fashion'd and his Tongue he fil'd In ev'ry Exercise of all admir'd He seem'd nor only seem'd but was inspir'd Inspir'd by Love whose Business is to please He Rode he Fenc'd he mov'd with graceful Ease More fam'd for Sense for courtly Carriage more Than for his brutal Folly known before What then of alter'd Cymon shall we say But that the Fire which choak'd in Ashes lay A Load too heavy for his Soul to move Was upward blown below and brush'd away by Love Love made an active Progress through his Mind The dusky Parts he clear'd the gross refin'd The drowsy wak'd and as he went impress'd The Maker's Image on the human Beast Thus was the Man amended by Desire And tho'he lov'd perhaps with too much Fire His Father all his Faults with
we rede That was Kenelphus sonne the noble king Of Mereturike how Kenelm mette a thing A little er he were murdred on a day His murder in this vision he say His norice him expouned it euery dele His sweuen and badde him kepe him wele Fro trayson but he was but seuen yere olde And therefore little tale he thereof tolde Of any dreme so holy was his herte By God I had rather than my sherte That ye haue herde his legend as haue I. Dame Pertelot I say to you truely Macrobius that writeth the auision In Afrike of the worthy Scipion Affirmeth dremes and saith that they been Warning of things that we after seen And ferthermore I pray you loketh well In the olde Testament of Daniel If he helde dremes for vanitie Rede eke of Joseph and there shal ye se Wonders ben somtime but I say nat all Warning of things that after shall fall Lo of Egypt the king that hight Pharao His baker and his butteler also Wheder they felt none effect indremes Who so woll seke actes in sundrie remes May rede of dremes a wonder thing Lo Cresus which was of Lide king Mette he not that he sat vpon a tree Which signified he should honged bee Lo Andromeda that was Hector's Wife That day that Hector should lese his life She dremed in the same night beforne How the life of Hector should belorne If that day he went vnto battaile She warned him but it might not auaile He went for to fight neuerthelesse But he was slaine anone of Achilles But that tale is to long to tell And eke it is nigh day I may nat dwell Shortly I say as for conclusion That I shall haue of this auision Aduersite and I say farthermore That I ne tell of laxatiues no store For they ben venemous I were it wele I hem defie I loue hem neuer a dele But let vs speke of mirthe and stinte all this Madame Pertelot so haue I blis Of one thing God hath me sent large grace For when I see the beautie of your face Ye ben so scarlet reed about your eyen It maketh al my drede for to dien For also siker as In principio Mulier est hominis confusio Madame the sentence of this latin is Woman is mannes ioye and his blis For when I fele on night your soft side Albeit that I may not on you ride For that our parche is made so narowe alas I am so full of ioye and of solas That I defie both sweuen and dreme And with that word he flewe doun fro the beme For it was day and eke the hennes all And with a chuck he gan hem for to call For he had found a corne lay in the yerde Royall he was and no more aferde He feddred Pertelot twentie time And tradde her eke as oft er it was prime He loketh as it were a grimme lioun And on his toes he romed vp and doun Him deened not to set his fete to the ground He chucked whan he had a corne yfound And to him than ran his wiues all As royal as a prince in his hall Leaue I this Chaunteclere in this pasture And after woll I tell of his aduenture When the moneth in which the world began That hight March that God first made man Was complete and passed were also Sith March began twenty daies and two Befill that Chaunteclere in all his pride His seuen wiues walking him beside Cast vp his eyen to the bright sunne That in the signe of Taurus was yrunne Fourty degrees and one and somwhat more He knew by kinde and by none other lore That it was prime and crew with a blissful steuen The sunne he saide is clombe vp to the heuen Fourty degrees and one and somwhat more ywis Madame Pertelot my worldes blisse Herken how these blisful birdes sing And see the fresh floures how they gan spring Full is mine hert of reuel and solas But sodainly him fell a sorowful caas For euer the latter ende of ioy is wo God wote worldly ioye is soone ago And if a rethore coud faire endite He in a chronicle might safely write As for a soueraine notabilitie Nowe euery wise man herken to me This story is al so true I vndertake As is the booke of Launcelot du lake That women holden in full great reuerence Now woll I turne ayen to my sentence A col fox ful of sleight and iniquitie That in the groue had wonned yeres three By high imagination aforne caste The same night through the hedge braste Into the yerde there Chaunteclere the faire Was wont and eke his wiues to repaire And in a bedde of wortes still he lay Til it was passed vndren of the day Waiting his time on Chaunteclere to fall As gladly done these homicides all That in a waite lie to murdre men O false murdrer rucking in thy den O new Scariot and new Gauilion O False dissimuler O greke Sinon That broughtest Troy vtterly to sorowe O Chaunteclere accursed be the morowe That thou in thy yerde flew from the bemes Thou were ful wel warned by thy dremes That ilke day was perillous to thee But what that God afore wote must nedes bee After the opinion of certain clerkes Witnesse of him that any clerke is That in schole is great altercation In this matter and great disputacion And hath ben of an hundred thousand men But I ne can nat boulte it to the bren As can the holy doctour saint Austin Or Boece or the bishop Bradwardin Whether that goddes worthy fore weting Straineth me nedely to do a thing Nedely clepe I simple necessite Or if the free choice be graunted me To do the same thing or do it nought Though God forewote it or it was wrought Or of his weting straineth neuer a dele But by necessitie condicionele I wol not haue to done of such mattere My tale is of a cocke as ye shall here That toke his counsaile of his wife with sorow To walk in the yerde vpon the morow That he had met the dreme as I you tolde Womens counsailes ben oft ful colde Womens counsaile brought vs first to wo And made Adam fro Paradise to go There as he was ful mery and well at ease But for I not whom I might displease If I counsaile of wemen should blame Passe ouer I said it in my game Redeth authors where they trete of such mattere And what they say of women ye mowe here These ben the cockes wordes ond not mine I can of women no harm deuine Faire in the sonde to bathe her merely Lieth Pertelot and all her susters by Ayenst the sunne and Chaunteclere so fre Song merier than the Marmaide in the se For Phisiologus saith vtterly How that they singen well and merely And so befell as he cast his eye Among the wortes on a butterflie He was ware of the foxe that laie full lowe Nothing than list him for to crowe But cried cocke cocke and vp he
Creeping and crying till they seiz'd at last His Coursers Bridle and his Feet embrac'd Tell me said Theseus what and whence you are And why this Funeral Pageant you prepare Is this the Welcome of 〈◊〉 worthy Deeds To meet my Triumph in Ill-omen'd Weeds Or envy you my Praise and would destroy With Grief my Pleasures and pollute my Joy Or are you injur'd and demand Relief Name your Request and I will ease your Grief The most in Years of all the Mourning Train Began but sounded first away for Pain Then scarce recover'd spoke Nor envy we Thy great Renown nor grudge thy Victory 'T is thine O King th' Afflicted to redress And Fame has fill'd the World with thy Success We wretched Women sue for that alone Which of thy Goodness is refus'd to none Let fall some Drops of Pity on our Grief If what we beg be just and we deserve Relief For none of us who now thy Grace implore But held the Rank of Sovereign Queen before Till thanks to giddy Chance which never bears That Mortal Bliss should last for length of Years She cast us headlong from our high Estate And here in hope of thy Return we wait And long have waited in the Temple nigh Built to the gracious Goddess Clemency But rev'rence thou the Pow'r whose Name it bears Relieve th' Oppress'd and wipe the Widows Tears I wretched I have other Fortune seen The Wife of Capaneus and once a Queen At Thebes he fell curs'd be the fatal Day And all the rest thou seest in this Array To make their moan their Lords in Battel lost Before that Town besieg'd by our Confed'rate Host But Creon old and impious who commands The Theban City and usurps the Lands Denies the Rites of Fun'ral Fires to those Whose breathless Bodies yet he calls his Foes Unburn'd unbury'd on a Heap they lie Such is their Fate and such his Tyranny No Friend has leave to bear away the Dead But with their Lifeless Limbs his Hounds are fed At this she skriek'd aloud the mournful Train Echo'd her Grief and grov'ling on the Plain With Groans and Hands upheld to move his Mind Besought his Pity to their helpless Kind The Prince was touch'd his Tears began to flow And as his tender Heart would break in two He sigh'd and could not but their Fate deplore So wretched now so fortunate before Then lightly from his lofty Steed he flew And raising one by one the suppliant Crew To comfort each full solemnly he swore That by the Faith which Knights to Knighthood bore And what e'er else to Chivalry belongs He would not cease till he reveng'd their Wrongs That Greece shou'd see perform'd what de declar'd And cruel Creon find his just Reward He said no more but shunning all Delay Rode on nor enter'd Athens on his Way But left his Sister and his Queen behind And wav'd his Royal Banner in the Wind Where in an Argent Field the God of War Was drawn triumphant on his Iron Carr Red was his Sword and Shield and whole Attire And all the Godhead seem'd to glow with Fire Ev'n the Ground glitter'd where the Standard flew And the green Grass was dy'd to sanguin Hue. High on his pointed Lance his Pennon bore His Cretan Fight the conquer'd Minotaure The Soldiers shout around with generous Rage And in that Victory their own presage He prais'd their Ardour inly pleas'd to see His Host the Flow'r of Grecian Chivalry All Day he march'd and all th' ensuing Night And saw the City with returning Light The Process of the War I need not tell How Theseus conquer'd and how Creon fell Or after how by Storm the Walls were won Or how the Victor sack'd and burn'd the Town How to the Ladies he restor'd again The Bodies of their Lords in Battel slain And with what ancient Rites they were interr'd All these to fitter time shall be deferr'd I spare the Widows Tears their woful Cries And Howling at their Husbands Obsequies How Theseus at these Fun'rals did assist And with what Gifts the mourning Dames dismiss'd Thus when the Victor Chief had Creon slain And conquer'd Thebes he pitch'd upon the Plain His mighty Camp and when the Day return'd The Country wasted and the Hamlets burn'd And left the Pillagers to Rapine bred Without Controul to strip and spoil the Dead There in a Heap of Slain among the rest Two youthful Knights they found beneath a Load oppress ' Of slaughter'd Foes whom first to Death they sent The Trophies of their Strength a bloody Monument Both fair and both of Royal Blood they seem'd Whom Kinsmen to the Crown the Heralds deem'd That Day in equal Arms they fought for Fame Their Swords their Shields their Surcoats were the same Close by each other laid they press'd the Ground Their manly Bosoms pierc'd with many a griesly Wound Nor well alive nor wholly dead they were But some faint Signs of feeble Life appear The wandring Breath was on the Wing to part Weak was the Pulse and hardly heav'd the Heart These two were Sisters Sons and Arcite one Much fam'd in Fields with valiant Palamon From These their costly Arms the Spoilers rent And softly both convey'd to Theseus Tent Whom known of Creon's Line and cur'd with care He to his City sent as Pris'ners of the War Hopeless of Ransom and condemn'd to lie In Durance doom'd a lingring Death to die This done he march'd away with warlike Sound And to his Athens turn'd with Laurels crown'd Where happy long he liv'd much lov'd and more renown'd But in a Tow'r and never to be loos'd The woful captive Kinsmen are enclos'd Thus Year by Year they pass and Day by Day Till once 't was on the Morn of chearful May The young Emilia fairer to be seen Than the fair Lilly on the Flow'ry Green More fresh than May her self in Blossoms new For with the Rosie Colour strove her Hue Wak'd as her Custom was before the Day To do th' Observance due to sprightly May For sprightly May commands our Youth to keep The Vigils of her Night and breaks their sluggard Sleep Each gentle Breast with kindly Warmth she moves Inspires new Flames revives extinguish'd Loves In this Remembrance Emily e'er Day Arose and dress'd her self in rich Array Fresh as the Month and as the Morning fair Adown her Shoulders fell her length of Hair A Ribband did the braided Tresses bind The rest was loose and wanton'd in the Wind Aurora had but newly chas'd the Night And purpl'd o'er the Sky with blushing Light When to the Garden-walk she took her way To sport and trip along in Cool of Day And offer Maiden Vows in honour of the May. At ev'ry Turn she made a little Stand And thrust among the Thorns her Lilly Hand To draw the Rose and ev'ry Rose she drew She shook the Stalk and brush'd away the Dew Then party-colour'd Flow'rs of white and red She wove to make a Garland for her Head This done she sung and caroll'd
jealous Blows Fall thick and heavy when on Foot they close So deep their Fauchions bite that ev'ry Stroke Pierc'd to the Quick and equal Wounds they gave and took Born far asunder by the Tides of Men Like Adamant and Steel they meet agen So when a Tyger sucks the Bullock's Blood A familh'd Lion issuing from the Wood Roars Lordly fierce and challenges the Food Each claims Possession neither will obey But both their Paws are fasten'd on the Prey They bite they tear and while in vain they strive The Swains come arm'd between and both to distance drive At length as Fate foredoom'd and all things tend By Course of Time to their appointed End So when the Sun to West was far declin'd And both afresh in mortal Battel join'd The strong Emetrius came in Arcite's Aid And Palamon with Odds was overlaid For turning short he struck with all his Might Full on the Helmet of th' unwary Knight Deep was the Wound he stagger'd with the Blow And turn'd him to his unexpected Foe Whom with such Force he struck he fell'd him down And cleft the Circle of his Golden Crown But Arcite's Men who now prevail'd in Fight Twice Ten at once surround the single Knight O'erpowr'd at length they force him to the Ground Unyielded as he was and to the Pillar bound And King Lycurgus while he fought in vain His Friend to free was tumbl'd on the Plain Who now laments but Palamon compell'd No more to try the Fortune of the Field And worse than Death to view with hateful Eyes His Rival's Conquest and renounce the Prize The Royal Judge on his Tribunal plac'd Who had beheld the Fight from first to last Bad cease the War pronouncing from on high Arcite of Thebes had won the beauteous Emily The Sound of Trumpets to the Voice reply'd And round the Royal Lifts the Heralds cry'd Arcite of Thebes has won the beauteous Bride The People rend the Skies with vast Applause All own the Chief when Fortune owns the Cause Arcite is own'd ev'n by the Gods above And conqu'ring Mars insults the Queen of Love So laugh'd he when the rightful Titan fail'd And Jove's usurping Arms in Heav'n prevail'd Laugh'd all the Pow'rs who favour Tyranny And all the Standing Army of the Sky But Venus with dejected Eyes appears And weeping on the Lists distill'd her Tears Her Will refus'd which grieves a Woman most And in her Champion foil'd the Cause of Love is lost Till Saturn said Fair Daughter now be still The blustring Fool has satisfi'd his Will His Boon is giv'n his Knight has gain'd the Day But lost the Prize th' Arrears are yet to pay Thy Hour is come and mine the Care shall be To please thy Knight and set thy Promise free Now while the Heralds run the Lists around And Arcite Arcite Heav'n and Earth resound A Miracle nor less it could be call'd Their Joy with unexpected Sorrow pall'd The Victor Knight had laid his Helm aside Part for his Ease the greater part for Pride Bare-headed popularly low he bow'd And paid the Salurations of the Crowd Then spurring at full speed ran endlong on Where Theseus sat on his Imperial Throne Furious he drove and upward cast his Eye Where next the Queen was plac'd his Emily Then passing to the Saddle-bow he bent A sweet Regard the gracious Virgin lent For Women to the Brave an easie Prey Still follow Fortune where she leads the Way Just then from Earth sprung out a flashing Fire By Pluto sent at Saturn's bad Desire The startling Steed was seiz'd with sudden Fright And bounding o'er the Pummel cast the Knight Forward he flew and pitching on his Head He quiver'd with his Feet and lay for Dead Black was his Count'nance in a little space For all the Blood was gather'd in his Face Help was at Hand they rear'd him from the Ground And from his cumbrous Arms his Limbs unbound Then lanc'd a Vein and watch'd returning Breath It came but clogg'd with Symptoms of his Death The Saddle-bow the Noble Parts had prest All bruis'd and mortifi'd his Manly Breast Him still entranc'd and in a Litter laid They bore from Field and to his Bed convey'd At length he wak'd and with a feeble Cry The Word he first pronounc'd was Emily Mean time the King though inwardly he mourn'd In Pomp triumphant to the Town return'd Attended by the Chiefs who fought the Field Now friendly mix'd and in one Troop compell'd Compos'd his Looks to counterfeited Cheer And bade them not for Arcite's Life to fear But that which gladded all the Warriour Train Though most were sorely wounded none were slain The Surgeons soon despoil'd 'em of their Arms And some with Salves they cure and some with Charms Foment the Bruises and the Pains asswage And heal their inward Hurts with Sov'reign Draughts of Sage The King in Person visits all around Comforts the Sick congratulates the Sound Honours the Princely Chiefs rewards the rest And holds for thrice three Days a Royal Feast None was disgrac'd for Falling is no Shame And Cowardice alone is Loss of Fame The vent'rous Knight is from the Saddle thrown But 't is the Fault of Fortune not his own If Crowns and Palms the conqu'ring Side adorn The Victor under better Stars was born The brave Man seeks not popular Applause Nor overpow'r'd with Arms deserts his Cause Unsham'd though foil'd he does the best he can Force is of Brutes but Honour is of Man Thus Theseus smil'd on all with equal Grace And each was set according to his Place With ease were reconcil'd the diff'ring Parts For Envy never dwells in Noble Hearts At length they took their Leave the Time expir'd Well pleas'd and to their sev'ral Homes retir'd Mean while the Health of Arcite still impairs From Bad proceeds to Worse and mocks the Leeches Cares Swoln is his Breast his inward Pains increase All Means are us'd and all without Success The clotted Blood lies heavy on his Heart Corrupts and there remains in spite of Art Nor breathing Veins nor Cupping will prevail All outward Remedies and inward fail The Mold of Natures Fabrick is destroy'd Her Vessels discompos'd her Vertue void The Bellows of his Lungs begins to swell All out of frame is ev'ry secret Cell Nor can the Good receive nor Bad expel Those breathing Organs thus within opprest With Venom soon distend the Sinews of his Breast Nought profits him to save abandon'd Life Nor Vomits upward aid nor downward Laxatife The midmost Region batter'd and destroy'd When Nature cannot work th' Effect of Art is void For Physick can but mend our crazie State Patch an old Building not a new create Arcite is doom'd to die in all his Pride Must leave his Youth and yield his beauteous Bride Gain'd hardly against Right and unenjoy'd When 't was declar'd all Hope of Life was past Conscience that of all Physick works the last Caus'd him to send for Emily in haste With her at his desire came Palamon Then on
of Meeting were deny'd But all those Wants ingenious Love supply'd Th' inventive God who never fails his Part Inspires the Wit when once he warms the Heart When Guiscard next was in the Circle seen Where Sigismonda held the Place of Queen A hollow Cane within her Hand she brought But in the Concave had enclos'd a Note With this she seem'd to play and as in sport Toss'd to her Love in presence of the Court Take it she said and when your Needs require This little Brand will serve to light your Fire He took it with a Bow and soon divin'd The seeming Toy was not for nought design'd But when retir'd so long with curious Eyes He view'd the Present that he found the Prize Much was in little writ and all convey'd With cautious Care for fear to be betray'd By some false Confident or Fav'rite Maid The Time the Place the Manner how to meet Were all in punctual Order plainly writ But since a Trust must be she thought it best To put it out of Laymens Pow't at least And for their solemn Vows prepar'd a Priest Guiscard her secret Purpose understood With Joy prepar'd to meet the coming Good Nor Pains nor Danger was resolv'd to spare But use the Means appointed by the Fair. Near the proud Palace of Salerno stood A Mount of rough Ascent and thick with Wood Through this a Cave was dug with vast Expence The Work it seem'd of some suspicious Prince Who when abusing Pow'r with lawless Might From Publick Justice would secure his Flight The Passage made by many a winding Way Reach'd ev'n the Room in which the Tyrant lay Fit for his Purpose on a lower Floor He lodg'd whose Issue was an Iron Door From whence by Stairs descending to the Ground In the blind Grot a safe Retreat he found It s Outlet ended in a Brake o'ergrown With Brambles choak'd by Time and now unknown A Rift there was which from the Mountains Height Convey'd a glimmering and malignant Light A Breathing-place to draw the Damps away A Twilight of an intercepted Day The Tyrants Den whose Use though lost to Fame Was now th' Apartment of the Royal Dame The Cavern only to her Father known By him was to his Darling-Daughter shown Neglected long she let the Secret rest Till Love recall'd it to her lab'ring Breast And hinted as the Way by Heav'n design'd The Teacher by the Means he taught to blind What will not Women do when Need inspires Their Wit or Love their Inclination fires Though Jealousie of State th' Invention found Yet Love refin'd upon the former Ground That Way the Tyrant had reserv'd to fly Pursuing Hate now serv'd to bring two Lovers nigh The Dame who long in vain had kept the Key Bold by Desire explor'd the secret Way Now try'd the Stairs and wading through the Night Search'd all the deep Recess and issu'd into Light All this her Letter had so well explain'd Th' instructed Youth might compass what remain'd The Cavern-mouth alone was hard to find Because the Path disus'd was out of mind But in what Quarter of the Cops it lay His Eye by certain Level could survey Yet for the Wood perplex'd with Thorns he knew A Frock of Leather o'er his Limbs he drew And thus provided search'd the Brake around Till the choak'd Entry of the Cave he found Thus all prepar'd the promis'd Hour arriv'd So long expected and so well contriv'd With Love to Friend th' impatient Lover went Fenc'd from the Thorns and trod the deep Descent The conscious Priest who was suborn'd before Stood ready posted at the Postern-door The Maids in distant Rooms were sent to rest And nothing wanted but th' invited Guest He came and knocking thrice without delay The longing Lady heard and turn'd the Key At once invaded him with all her Charms And the first Step he made was in her Arms The Leathern Out-side boistrous as it was Gave way and bent beneath her strict Embrace On either Side the Kisses flew so thick That neither he nor she had Breath to speak The holy Man amaz'd at what he saw Made haste to sanctifie the Bliss by Law And mutter'd fast the Matrimony o're For fear committed Sin should get before His Work perform'd he left the Pair alone Because he knew he could not go too soon His Presence odious when his Task was done What Thoughts he had beseems not me to say Though some surmise he went to fast and pray And needed both to drive the tempting Thoughts away The Foe once gone they took their full Delight 'T was restless Rage and Tempest all the Night For greedy Love each Moment would employ And grudg'd the shortest Pauses of their Joy Thus were their Loves auspiciously begun And thus with secret Care were carried on The Stealth it self did Appetite restore And look'd so like a Sin it pleas'd the more The Cave was now become a common Way The Wicket often open'd knew the Key Love rioted secure and long enjoy'd Was ever eager and was never cloy'd But as Extremes are short of Ill and Good And Tides at highest Mark regorge the Flood So Fate that could no more improve their Joy Took a malicious Pleasure to destroy Tancred who fondly lov'd and whose Delight Was plac'd in his fair Daughters daily Sight Of Custom when his State-Affairs were done Would pass his pleasing Hours with her alone And as a Father's Privilege allow'd Without Attendance of th' officious Crowd It happen'd once that when in Heat of Day He try'd to sleep as was his usual Way The balmy Slumber fled his wakeful Eyes And forc'd him in his own despite to rise Of Sleep forsaken to relieve his Care He sought the Conversation of the Fair But with her Train of Damsels she was gone In shady Walks the scorching Heat to shun He would not violate that sweet Recess And found besides a welcome Heaviness That seiz'd his Eyes and Slumber which forgot When call'd before to come now came unsought From Light retir'd behind his Daughters Bed He for approaching Sleep compos'd his Head A Chair was ready for that Use design'd So quilted that he lay at ease reclin'd The Curtains closely drawn the Light to skreen As if he had contriv'd to lie unseen Thus cover'd with an artificial Night Sleep did his Office soon and seal'd his Sight With Heav'n averse in this ill-omen'd Hour Was Guiscard summon'd to the secret Bow'r And the fair Nymph with Expectation fir'd From her attending Damsels was retir'd For true to Love she measur'd Time so right As not to miss one Moment of Delight The Garden seated on the level Floor She left behind and locking ev'ry Door Thought all secure but little did she know Blind to her Fate she had inclos'd her Foe Attending Guiscard in his Leathern Frock Stood ready with his thrice-repeated Knock Thrice with a doleful Sound the jarring Grate Rung deaf and hollow and presag'd their Fate The Door unlock'd to known Delight they haste And panting in each
think it was to give consent But struggling with his own Desires he went With large Expence and with a pompous Train Provided as to visit France or Spain Or for some distant Voyage o'er the Main But Love had clipp'd his Wings and cut him short Confin'd within the purlieus of his Court Three Miles he went nor farther could retreat His Travels ended at his Country-Seat To Chassis pleasing Plains he took his way There pitch'd his Tents and there resolv'd to stay The Spring was in the Prime the neighb'ring Grove Supply'd with Birds the Choristers of Love Musick unbought that minister'd Delight To Morning-walks and lull'd his Cares by Night There he discharg'd his Friends but not th' Expence Of frequent Treats and proud Magnificence He liv'd as Kings retire though more at large From publick Business yet with equal Charge With House and Heart still open to receive As well content as Love would give him leave He would have liv'd more free but many a Guest Who could forsake the Friend pursu'd the Feast It happ'd one Morning as his Fancy led Before his usual Hour he left his Bed To walk within a lonely Lawn that stood On ev'ry side surrounded by the Wood Alone he walk'd to please his pensive Mind And sought the deepest Solitude to find 'T was in a Grove of spreading Pines he stray'd The Winds within the quiv'ring Branches plaid And Dancing-Trees a mournful Musick made The Place it self was suiting to his Care Uncouth and Salvage as the cruel Fair. He wander'd on unknowing where he went Lost in the Wood and all on Love intent The Day already half his Race had run And summon'd him to due Repast at Noon But Love could feel no Hunger but his own While list'ning to the murm'ring Leaves he stood More than a Mile immers'd within the Wood At once the Wind was laid the whisp'ring sound Was dumb a rising Earthquake rock'd the Ground With deeper Brown the Grove was overspred A suddain Horror seiz'd his giddy Head And his Ears tinckled and his Colour fled Nature was in alarm some Danger nigh Seem'd threaten'd though unseen to mortal Eye Unus'd to fear he summon'd all his Soul And stood collected in himself and whole Not long For soon a Whirlwind rose around And from afar he heard a screaming sound As of a Dame distress'd who cry'd for Aid And fill'd with loud Laments the secret Shade A Thicket close beside the Grove there stood With Breers and Brambles choak'd and dwarfish Wood From thence the Noise Which now approaching near With more distinguish'd Notes invades his Ear He rais'd his Head and saw a beauteous Maid With Hair dishevell'd issuing through the Shade Stripp'd of her Cloaths and e'en those Parts reveal'd Which modest Nature keeps from Sight conceal'd Her Face her Hands her naked Limbs were torn With passing through the Brakes and prickly Thorn Two Mastiffs gaunt and grim her Flight pursu'd And oft their fasten'd Fangs in Blood embru'd Oft they came up and pinch'd her tender Side Mercy O Mercy Heav'n she ran and cry'd When Heav'n was nam'd they loos'd their Hold again Then sprung she forth they follow'd her amain Not far behind a Knight of swarthy Face High on a Coal-black Steed pursu'd the Chace With flashing Flames his ardent Eyes were fill'd And in his Hands a naked Sword he held He chear'd the Dogs to follow her who fled And vow'd Revenge on her devoted Head As Theodore was born of noble Kind The brutal Action rowz'd his manly Mind Mov'd with unworthy Usage of the Maid He though unarm'd resolv'd to give her Aid A Saplin Pine he wrench'd from out the Ground The readiest Weapon that his Fury found Thus furnish'd for Offence he cross'd the way Betwixt the graceless Villain and his Prey The Knight came thund'ring on but from afar Thus in imperious Tone forbad the War Cease Theodore to proffer vain Relief Nor stop the vengeance of so just a Grief But give me leave to seize my destin'd Prey And let eternal Justice take the way I but revenge my Fate disdain'd betray'd And suff'ring Death for this ungrateful Maid He say'd at once dismounting from the Steed For now the Hell-hounds with superiour Speed Had reach'd the Dame and fast'ning on her Side The Ground with issuing Streams of Purple dy'd Stood Theodore surpriz'd in deadly Fright With chatt'ring Teeth and bristling Hair upright Yet arm'd with inborn Worth What e'er said he Thou art who know'st me better than I thee Or prove thy rightful Cause or be defy'd The Spectre fiercely staring thus reply'd Know Theodore thy Ancestry I claim And Guido Cavalcanti was my Name One common Sire our Fathers did beget My Name and Story some remember yet Thee then a Boy within my Arms I laid When for my Sins I lov'd this haughty Maid Not less ador'd in Life nor serv'd by Me Than proud Honoria now is lov'd by Thee What did I not her stubborn Heart to gain But all my Vows were answer'd with Disdain She scorn'd my Sorrows and despis'd my Pain Long time I dragg'd my Days in fruitless Care Then loathing Life and plung'd in deep Despair To finish my unhappy Life I fell On this sharp Sword and now am damn'd in Hell Short was her Joy for soon th' insulting Maid By Heav'n's Decree in the cold Grave was laid And as in unrepenting Sin she dy'd Doom'd to the same bad Place is punish'd for her Pride Because she deem'd I well deserv'd to die And made a Merit of her Cruelty There then we met both try'd and both were cast And this irrevocable Sentence pass'd That she whom I so long pursu'd in vain Should suffer from my Hands a lingring Pain Renew'd to Life that she might daily die I daily doom'd to follow she to fly No more a Lover but a mortal Foe I seek her Life for Love is none below As often as my Dogs with better speed Arrest her Flight is she to Death decreed Then with this fatal Sword on which I dy'd I pierce her open'd Back or tender Side And tear that harden'd Heart from out her Breast Which with her Entrails makes my hungry Hounds a Feast Nor lies she long but as her Fates ordain Springs up to Life and fresh to second Pain Is sav'd to Day to Morrow to be slain This vers'd in Death th' infernal Knight relates And then for Proof fulfill'd their common Fates Her Heart and Bowels through her Back he drew And fed the Hounds that help'd him to pursue Stern'd look'd the Fiend as frustrate of his Will Not half suffic'd and greedy yet to kill And now the Soul expiring through the Wound Had left the Body breathless on the Ground When thus the grisly Spectre spoke again Behold the Fruit of ill-rewarded Pain As many Months as I sustain'd her Hate So many Years is she condemn'd by Fate To daily Death and ev'ry several Place Conscious of her Disdain and my Disgrace Must witness her just Punishment and be A Scene of
Good In every Land we have a larger Space Than what is known to you of mortal Race Where we with Green adorn our Fairy Bow'rs And ev'n this Grove unseen before is ours Know farther Ev'ry Lady cloath'd in White And crown'd with Oak and Lawrel ev'ry Knight Are Servants to the Leaf by Liveries known Of Innocence and I my self am one Saw you not Her so graceful to behold In white Attire and crown'd with Radiant Gold The Soveraign Lady of our Land is She Diana call'd the Queen of Chastity And for the spotless Name of Maid she bears That Agnus castus in her Hand appears And all her Train with leavy Chaplets crown'd Were for unblam'd Virginity renown'd But those the chief and highest in Command Who bear those holy Branches in their Hand The Knights adorn'd with Lawrel-Crowns are they Whom Death nor Danger ever cou'd dismay Victorious Names who made the World obey Who while they liv'd in Deeds of Arms excell'd And after Death for Deities were held But those who wear the Woodbine on their Brow Were Knights of Love who never broke their Vow Firm to their plighted Faith and ever free From Fears and fickle Chance and Jealousy The Lords and Ladies who the Woodbine bear As true as Tristram and Isotta were But what are those said I th' unconquer'd Nine Who crown'd with Lawrel-Wreaths in golden Armour shine And who the Knights in Green and what the Train Of Ladies dress'd with Daisies on the Plain Why both the Bands in Worship disagree And some adore the Flow'r and some the Tree Just is your Suit fair Daughter said the Dame Those lawrell'd Chiefs were Men of mighty Fame Nine Worthies were they call'd of diff'rent Rites Three Jews three Pagans and three Christian Knights These as you see ride foremost in the Field As they the foremost Rank of Honour held And all in Deeds of Chivalry excell'd Their Temples wreath'd with Leafs that still renew For deathless Lawrel is the Victor's due Who bear the Bows were Knights in Arthur's Reign Twelve they and twelve the Peers of Charlemain For Bows the Strength of brawny Arms imply Emblems of Valour and of Victory Behold an Order yet of newer Date Doubling their Number equal in their State Our England's Ornament the Crown 's Defence In Battle brave Protectors of their Prince Unchang'd by Fortune to their Soveraign true For which their manly Legs are bound with Blue These of the Garter call'd of Faith unstain'd In fighting Fields the Lawrel have obtain'd And well repaid those Honours which they gain'd The Lawrel-Wreaths were first by Caesar worn And still they Caesar's Successors adorn One Leaf of this is Immortality And more of Worth than all the World can buy One Doubt remains said I the Dames in Green What were their Qualities and who their Queen Flora commands said she those Nymphs and Knights Who liv'd in slothful Ease and loose Delights Who never Acts of Honour durst pursue The Men inglorious Knights the Ladies all untrue Who nurs'd in Idleness and train'd in Courts Pass'd all their precious Hours in Plays and Sports Till Death behind came stalking on unseen And wither'd like the Storm the freshness of their Green These and their Mates enjoy the present Hour And therefore pay their Homage to the Flow'r But Knights in Knightly Deeds should persevere And still continue what at first they were Continue and proceed in Honours fair Career No room for Cowardise or dull delay From Good to Better they should urge their way For this with golden Spurs the Chiefs are grac'd With pointed Rowels arm'd to mend their haste For this with lasting Leaves their Brows are bound For Lawrel is the Sign of Labour crown'd Which bears the bitter Blast nor shaken falls to Ground From Winter-Winds it suffers no decay For ever fresh and fair and ev'ry Month is May. Ev'n when the vital Sap retreats below Ev'n when the hoary Head is hid in Snow The Life is in the Leaf and still between The Fits of falling Snows appears the streaky Green Not so the Flow'r which lasts for little space A short-liv'd Good and an uncertain Grace This way and that the feeble Stem is driv'n Weak to sustain the Storms and Injuries of Heav'n Prop'd by the Spring it lifts aloft the Head But of a sickly Beauty soon to shed In Summer living and in Winter dead For Things of tender Kind for Pleasure made Shoot up with swift Increase and suddain are decay'd With humble Words the wisest I could frame And profer'd Service I repaid the Dame That of her Grace she gave her Maid to know The secret meaning of this moral Show And she to prove what Profit I had made Of mystique Truth in Fables first convey'd Demanded till the next returning May Whether the Leaf or Flow'r I would obey I chose the Leaf she smil'd with sober Chear And wish'd me fair Adventure for the Year And gave me Charms and Sigils for Defence Against ill Tongues that scandal Innocence But I said she my Fellows must pursue Already past the Plain and out of view We parted thus I homeward sped my way Bewilder'd in the Wood till Dawn of Day And met the merry Crew who danc'd about the May. Then late refresh'd with Sleep I rose to write The visionary Vigils of the Night Blush as thou may'st my little Book for Shame Nor hope with homely Verse to purchase Fame For such thy Maker chose and so design'd Thy simple Style to sute thy lowly Kind Mr. DRYDEN's ODE In HONOUR of St. CECILIA's Day 1697. Alexander's Feast OR THE POWER of MUSIQUE AN ODE In HONOUR of St. CECILIA's Day I. 'T Was at the Royal Feast for Persia won By Philip's Warlike Son Aloft in awful State The God-like Heroe sate On his Imperial Throne His valiant Peers were plac'd around Their Brows with Roses and with Myrtles bound So shou'd Desert in Arms be Crown'd The Lovely Thais by his side Sate like a blooming Eastern Bride In Flow'r of Youth and Beauty's Pride Happy happy happy Pair None but the Brave None but the Brave None but the Brave deserves the Fair. CHORUS Happy happy happy Pair None but the Brave None but the Brave None but the Brave deserves the Fair. II. Timotheus plac'd on high Amid the tuneful Quire With flying Fingers touch'd the Lyre The trembling Notes ascend the Sky And Heav'nly Joys inspire The Song began from Jove Who left his blissful Seats above Such is the Pow'r of mighty Love A Dragon 's fiery Form bely'd the God Sublime on Radiant Spires He rode When He to fair Olympia press'd And while He sought her snowy Breast Then round her slender Waist he curl'd And stamp'd an Image of himself a Sov'raign of the World The list'ning Crowd admire the lofty Sound A present Deity they shout around A present Deity the vaulted Roofs rebound With ravish'd Ears The Monarch hears Assumes the God Affects to nod And seems to shake the Spheres CHORUS With ravish'd Ears The Monarch hears
He who cou'd often and alone withstand The Foe the Fire and Jove's own partial Hand Now cannot his unmaster'd Grief sustain But yields to Rage to Madness and Disdain Then snatching out his Fauchion Thou said He Art mine Ulysses lays no claim to Thee O often try'd and ever trusty Sword Now do thy last kind Office to thy Lord 'T is Ajax who requests thy Aid to show None but himself himself cou'd overthrow He said and with so good a Will to die Did to his Breast the fatal Point apply It found his Heart a way till then unknown Where never Weapon enter'd but his own No Hands cou'd force it thence so fix'd it stood Till out it rush'd expell'd by Streams of spouting Blood The fruitful Blood produc'd a Flow'r which grew On a green Stem and of a Purple Hue Like his whom unaware Apollo slew Inscrib'd in both the Letters are the same But those express the Grief and these the Name THE WIFE OF BATH HER TALE THE Wife of BATH HER TALE IN Days of Old when Arthur fill'd the Throne Whose Acts and Fame to Foreign Lands were blown The King of Elfs and little Fairy Queen Gamboll'd on Heaths and danc'd on ev'ry Green And where the jolly Troop had led the round The Grass unbidden rose and mark'd the Ground Nor darkling did they dance the Silver Light Of Phaebe serv'd to guide their Steps aright And with their Tripping pleas'd prolong'd the Night Her Beams they follow'd where at full she plaid Nor longer than she shed her Horns they staid From thence with airy Flight to Foreign Lands convey'd Above the rest our Britain held they dear More solemnly they kept their Sabbaths here And made more spacious Rings and revell'd half the Year I speak of ancient Times for now the Swain Returning late may pass the Woods in vain And never hope to see the nightly Train In vain the Dairy now with Mints is dress'd The Dairy-Maid expects no Fairy Guest To skim the Bowls and after pay the Feast She sighs and shakes her empty Shoes in vain No Silver Penny to reward her Pain For Priests with Pray'rs and other godly Geer Have made the merry Goblins disappear And where they plaid their merry Pranks before Have sprinkled Holy Water on the Floor And Fry'rs that through the wealthy Regions run Thick as the Motes that twinkle in the Sun Resort to Farmers rich and bless their Halls And exorcise the Beds and cross the Walls This makes the Fairy Quires forsake the Place When once 't is hallow'd with the Rites of Grace But in the Walks where wicked Elves have been The Learning of the Parish now is seen The Midnight Parson posting o'er the Green With Gown tuck'd up to Wakes for Sunday next With humming Ale encouraging his Text Nor wants the holy Leer to Country-Girl betwixt From Fiends and Imps he sets the Village free There haunts not any Incubus but He. The Maids and Women need no Danger fear To walk by Night and Sanctity so near For by some Haycock or some shady Thorn He bids his Beads both Even-song and Morn It so befel in this King Arthur's Reign A lusty Knight was pricking o'er the Plain A Batchelor he was and of the courtly Train It happen'd as he rode a Damsel gay In Russet-Robes to Market took her way Soon on the Girl he cast an amorous Eye So strait she walk'd and on her Pasterns high If seeing her behind he lik'd her Pace Now turning short he better lik'd her Face He lights in hast and full of Youthful Fire By Force accomplish'd his obscene Desire This done away he rode not unespy'd For swarming at his Back the Country cry'd And once in view they never lost the Sight But seiz'd and pinion'd brought to court the Knight Then Courts of Kings were held in high Renown E'er made the common Brothels of the Town There Virgins honourable Vows receiv'd But chast as Maids in Monasteries liv'd The King himself to Nuptial Ties a Slave No bad Example to his Poets gave And they not bad but in a vicious Age Had not to please the Prince debauch'd the Stage Now what shou'd Arthur do He lov'd the Knight But Soveraign Monarchs are the Source of Right Mov'd by the Damsels Tears and common Cry He doom'd the brutal Ravisher to die But fair Geneura rose in his Defence And pray'd so hard for Mercy from the Prince That to his Queen the King th' Offender gave And left it in her Pow'r to Kill or Save This gracious Act the Ladies all approve Who thought it much a Man should die for Love And with their Mistress join'd in close Debate Covering their Kindness with dissembled Hate If not to free him to prolong his Fate At last agreed they call'd him by consent Before the Queen and Female Parliament And the fair Speaker rising from her Chair Did thus the Judgment of the House declare Sir Knight tho' I have ask'd thy Life yet still Thy Destiny depends upon my Will Nor hast thou other Surety than the Grace Not due to thee from our offended Race But as our Kind is of a softer Mold And cannot Blood without a Sigh behold I grant thee Life reserving still the Pow'r To take the Forfeit when I see my Hour Unless thy Answer to my next Demand Shall set Thee free from our avenging Hand The Question whose Solution I require Is what the Sex of Women most desire In this Dispute thy Judges are at Strife Beware for on thy Wit depends thy Life Yet lest surpriz'd unknowing what to say Thou damn thy self we give thee farther Day A Year is thine to wander at thy Will And learn from others if thou want'st the Skill But not to hold our Proffer in Scorn Good Sureties will we have for thy return That at the time prefix'd thou shalt obey And at thy Pledges Peril keep thy Day Woe was the Knight at this severe Command But well he knew 't was bootless to withstand The Terms accepted as the Fair ordain He put in Bail for his return again And promis'd Answer at the Day assign'd The best with Heav'ns Assistance he could find His Leave thus taken on his Way he went With heavy Heart and full of Discontent Misdoubting much and fearful of th' Event 'T was hard the Truth of such a Point to find As was not yet agreed among the Kind Thus on he went still anxious more and more Ask'd all he met and knock'd at ev'ry Door Enquir'd of Men but made his chief Request To learn from Women what they lov'd the best They answer'd each according to her Mind To please her self not all the Female Kind One was for Wealth another was for Place Crones old and ugly wish'd a better Face The Widow's Wish was oftentimes to Wed The wanton Maids were all for Sport a Bed Some said the Sex were pleas'd with handsom Lies And some gross Flatt'ry lov'd without disguise Truth is says one he seldom fails to win Who Flatters
Glass Reflected to her Eyes the ruins of her Face Wondring what Charms her Ravishers cou'd spy To force her twice or ev'n but once enjoy Thy Teeth devouring Time thine envious Age On Things below still exercise your Rage With venom'd Grinders you corrupt your Meat And then at lingring Meals the Morsels eat Nor those which Elements we call abide Nor to this Figure nor to that are ty'd For this eternal World is said of Old But four prolifick Principles to hold Four different Bodies two to Heaven ascend And other two down to the Center tend Fire first with Wings expanded mounts on high Pure void of weight and dwells in upper Sky Then Air because unclogg'd in empty space Flies after Fire and claims the second Place But weighty Water as her Nature guides Lies on the lap of Earth and Mother Earth subsides All Things are mix'd of these which all contain And into these are all resolv'd again Earth rarifies to Dew expanded more The subtil Dew in Air begins to soar Spreads as she flies and weary of her Name Extenuates still and changes into Flame Thus having by degrees Perfection won Restless they soon untwist the Web they spun And Fire begins to lose her radiant Hue Mix'd with gross Air and Air descends to Dew And Dew condensing does her Form forego And sinks a heavy lump of Earth below Thus are their Figures never at a stand But chang'd by Nature's innovating Hand All Things are alter'd nothing is destroy'd The shifted Scene for some new Show employ'd Then to be born is to begin to be Some other Thing we were not formerly And what we call to Die is not t' appear Or be the Thing that formerly we were Those very Elements which we partake Alive when Dead some other Bodies make Translated grow have Sense or can Discourse But Death on deathless Substance has no force That Forms are chang'd I grant that nothing can Continue in the Figure it began The Golden Age to Silver was debas'd To Copper that our Mettal came at last The Face of Places and their Forms decay And that is solid Earth that once was Sea Seas in their turn retreating from the Shore Make solid Land what Ocean was before And far from Strands are Shells of Fishes found And rusty Anchors fix'd on Mountain-Ground And what were Fields before now wash'd and worn By falling Floods from high to Valleys turn And crumbling still descend to level Lands And Lakes and trembling Bogs are barren Sands And the parch'd Desart floats in Streams unknown Wondring to drink of Waters not her own Here Nature living Fountains ope's and there Seals up the Wombs where living Fountains were Or Earthquakes stop their ancient Course and bring Diverted Streams to feed a distant Spring So Lycus swallow'd up is seen no more But far from thence knocks out anorher Door Thus Erasinus dives and blind in Earth Runs on and gropes his way to second Birth Starts up in Argos Meads and shakes his Locks Around the Fields and fattens all the Flocks So Mysus by another way is led And grown a River now disdains his Head Forgets his humble Birth his Name forsakes And the proud Title of Caicus takes Large Amenane impure with yellow Sands Runs rapid often and as often stands And here he threats the drunken Fields to drown And there his Dugs deny to give their Liquor down Anigros once did wholsome Draughts afford But now his deadly Waters are abhorr'd Since hurt by Hercules as Fame resounds The Centaurs in his current wash'd their Wounds The Streams of Hypanis are sweet no more But brackish lose the tast they had before Antissa Pharos Tyre in Seas were pent Once Isles but now increase the Continent While the Leucadian Coast main Land before By rushing Seas is sever'd from the Shore So Zancle to th' Italian Earth was ty'd And Men once walk'd where Ships at Anchor ride Till Neptune overlook'd the narrow way And in disdain pour'd in the conqu'ring Sea Two Cities that adorn'd th' Achaian Ground Buris and Helice no more are found But whelm'd beneath a Lake are sunk and drown'd And Boatsmen through the Chrystal Water show To wond'ring Passengers the Walls below Near Traezen stands a Hill expos'd in Air To Winter-Winds of leafy Shadows bare This once was level Ground But strange to tell Th' included Vapors that in Caverns dwell Lab'ring with Cholick Pangs and close confin'd In vain sought issue for the rumbling Wind Yet still they heav'd for vent and heaving still Inlarg'd the Concave and shot up the Hill As Breath extends a Bladder or the Skins Of Goats are blown t' inclose the hoarded Wines The Mountain yet retains a Mountain's Face And gather'd Rubbish heals the hollow space Of many Wonders which I heard or knew Retrenching most I will relate but few What are not Springs with Qualities oppos'd Endu'd at Seasons and at Seasons lost Thrice in a Day thine Ammon change their Form Cold at high Noon at Morn and Evening warm Thine Athaman will kindle Wood if thrown On the pil'd Earth and in the waning Moon The Thracians have a Stream if any try The tast his harden'd Bowels petrify Whate'er it touches it converts to Stones And makes a Marble Pavement where it runs Crathis and Sybaris her Sister Flood That slide through our Calabrian Neighbour Wood With Gold and Amber die the shining Hair And thither Youth resort for who wou'd not be Fair But stranger Virtues yet in Streams we find Some change not only Bodies but the Mind Who has not heard of Salmacis obscene Whose Waters into Women soften Men Or AEthyopian Lakes which turn the Brain To Madness or in heavy Sleep constrain Clytorian Streams the love of Wine expel Such is the Virtue of th'abstemious Well Whether the colder Nymph that rules the Flood Extinguishes and balks the drunken God Or that Melampus so have some assur'd When the mad Proetides with Charms he cur'd And pow'rful Herbs both Charms and Simples cast Into th'sober Spring where still their Virtues last Unlike Effects Lyncestis will produce Who drinks his Waters tho'with moderate use Reels as with Wine and sees with double Sight His Heels too heavy and his Head too light Ladon once Pheneos an Arcadian Stream Ambiguous in th' Effects as in the Name By Day is wholsom Bev'rage but is thought By Night infected and a deadly Draught Thus running Rivers and the standing Lake Now of these Virtues now of those partake Time was and all Things Time and Fate obey When fast Ortygia floated on the Sea Such were Cyanean Isles when Typhis steer'd Betwixt their Streights and their Collision fear'd They swam where now they sit and firmly join'd Secure of rooting up resist the Wind. Nor AEtna vomiting sulphuerous Fire Will ever belch for Sulphur will expire The Veins exhausted of the liquid Store Time was she cast no Flames in time will cast no more For whether Earth's an Animal and Air Imbibes her Lungs with coolness to repair And
And his own Work as in Creation bless'd The Tempter saw him too with envious Eye And as on Job demanded leave to try He took the time when Richard was depos'd And High and Low with happy Harry clos'd This Prince tho' great in Arms the Priest withstood Near tho' he was yet not the next of Blood Had Richard unconstrain'd resign'd the Throne A King can give no more than is his own The Title stood entail'd had Richard had a Son Conquest an odious Name was laid afide Where all submitted none the Battle try'd The senseless Plea of Right by Providence Was by a flatt'ring Priest invented since And lasts no longer than the present sway But justifies the next who comes in play The People's Right remains let those who dare Dispute their Pow'r when they the Judges are He join'd not in their Choice because he knew Worse might and often did from Change ensue Much to himself he thought but little spoke And Undepriv'd his Benefice forsook Now through the Land his Cure of Souls he stretch'd And like a Primitive Apostle preach'd Still Chearful ever Constant to his Call By many follow'd Lov'd by most Admir'd by All. With what he beg'd his Brethren he reliev'd And gave the Charities himself receiv'd Gave while he Taught and Edify'd the more Because he shew'd by Proof 't was easy to be Poor He went not with the Crowd to see a Shrine But fed us by the way with Food divine In deference to his Virtues I forbear To shew you what the rest in Orders were This Brillant is so Spotless and so Bright He needs no Foyl But shines by his own proper Light THE MONUMENT OF A Fair Maiden Lady Who dy'd at Bath and is there Interr'd BElow this Marble Monument is laid All that Heav'n wants of this Celestial Maid Preserve O sacred Tomb thy Trust consign'd The Mold was made on purpose for the Mind And she wou'd lose if at the latter Day One Atom cou'd be mix'd of other Clay Such were the Features of her heav'nly Face Her Limbs were form'd with such harmonious Grace So faultless was the Frame as if the Whole Had been an Emanation of the Soul Which her own inward Symmetry reveal'd And like a Picture shone in Glass Anneal'd Or like the Sun eclips'd with shaded Light Too piercing else to be sustain'd by Sight Each Thought was visible that rowl'd within As through a Crystal Case the figur'd Hours are seen And Heav'n did this transparent Veil provide Because she had no guilty Thought to hide All white a Virgin-Saint she sought the Skies For Marriage tho' it sullies not it dies High tho' her Wit yet Humble was her Mind As if she cou'd not or she wou'd not find How much her Worth transcended all her Kind Yet she had learn'd so much of Heav'n below That when arriv'd she scarce had more to know But only to refresh the former Hint And read her Maker in a fairer Print So Pious as she had no time to spare For human Thoughts but was confin'd to Pray'r Yet in such Charities she pass'd the Day 'T was wond'rous how she found an Hour to Pray A Soul so calm it knew not Ebbs or Flows Which Passion cou'd but curl not discompose A Female Softness with a manly Mind A Daughter duteous and a Sister kind In Sickness patient and in Death resign'd CYMON AND IPHIGENIA FROM BOCCACE CYMON AND IPHIGENIA FROM BOCCACE Poeta loquitur OLD as I am for Ladies Love unfit The Pow'r of Beauty I remember yet Which once inflam'd my Soul and still inspires my If Love be Folly the severe Divine Wit Has felt that Folly tho' he censures mine Pollutes the Pleasures of a chast Embrace Acts what I write and propagates in Grace With riotous Excess a Priestly Race Suppose him free and that I forge th' Offence He shew'd the way perverting first my Sense In Malice witty and with Venom fraught He makes me speak the Things I never thought Compute the Gains of his ungovern'd Zeal Ill sutes his Cloth the Praise of Railing well The World will think that what we loosly write Tho' now arraign'd he read with some delight Because he seems to chew the Cud again When his broad Comment makes the Text too plain And teaches more in one explaining Page Than all the double Meanings of the Stage What needs he Paraphrase on what we mean We were at worst but Wanton he 's Obscene I nor my Fellows nor my Self excuse But Love 's the Subject of the Comick Muse Nor can we write without it nor would you A Tale of only dry Instruction view Nor Love is always of a vicious Kind But oft to virtuous Acts inflames the Mind Awakes the sleepy Vigour of the Soul And brushing o'er adds Motion to the Pool Love studious how to please improves our Parts With polish'd Manners and adorns with Arts. Love first invented Verse and form'd the Rhime The Motion measur'd harmoniz'd the Chime To lib'ral Acts inlarg'd the narrow-Soul'd Soften'd the Fierce and made the Coward Bold The World when wast he Peopled with increase And warring Nations reconcil'd in Peace Ormond the first and all the Fair may find In this one Legend to their Fame design'd When Beauty fires the Blood how Love exalts the Mind IN that sweet Isle where Venus keeps her Court And ev'ry Grace and all the Loves resort Where either Sex is form'd of softer Earth And takes the bent of Pleasure from their Birth There liv'd a Cyprian Lord above the rest Wise Wealthy with a num'rous Issue blest But as no Gift of Fortune is sincere Was only wanting in a worthy Heir His eldest Born a goodly Youth to view Excell'd the rest in Shape and outward Shew Fair Tall his Limbs with due Proportion join'd But of a heavy dull degenerate Mind His Soul bely'd the Features of his Face Beauty was there but Beauty in disgrace A clownish Mien a Voice with rustick sound And stupid Eyes that ever lov'd the Ground He look'd like Nature's Error as the Mind And Body were not of a Piece design'd But made for two and by mistake in one were join'd The ruling Rod the Father's forming Care Were exercis'd in vain on Wit 's despair The more inform'd the less he understood And deeper sunk by flound'ring in the Mud. Now scorn'd of all and grown the publick Shame The People from Galesus chang'd his Name And Cymon call'd which signifies a Brute So well his Name did with his Nature sute His Father when he found his Labour lost And Care employ'd that answer'd not the Cost Chose an ungrateful Object to remove And loath'd to see what Nature made him love So to his Country-Farm the Fool confin'd Rude Work well suted with a rustick Mind Thus to the Wilds the sturdy Cymon went A Squire among the Swains and pleas'd with Banishment His Corn and Cattle were his only Care And his supreme Delight a Country-Fair It happen'd on a Summers Holiday That to the
false whele That none estate assureth for to be wele Now certes lord to abyde your presence Here in this temple of the goddesse Clemence We haue be waiting all this fourtenight Help us lord syth it lieth in thy might IWretch that wepe and waile thus Whylom wife to king Campaneus That starfe at Thebes cursed be the day And all we that ben in this aray And maken all this lamentacion We losten all our husbondes at that town Whyle that the siege there about laie And yet the old Creon wel awaie That Lorde is nowe of Thebes cite Fulfilled of yre and of iniquite He for dispite and for his tiranny To done the deed bodies villany Of all our lords which that ben slawe Hath all the bodies on an heap ydrawe And will nat suffer hem by none assent Neither to be buried ne to be brent But maketh hounds to eat hem in dispite And with that word without more respite They fallen grosly and crien pitously Haue on vs wretched wymen some mercy And let our sorowe sinke in thine hert This gentle duke downe from his horse stert With hert pitous whan he herd hem speke Him thought that his hert wolde breke Whan he saw hem so pitous and so mate That whylom were of so great estate And in his armes he hem all vp hent And hem comforted in full good entent And swore his othe as he was true knight He wolde don so ferforthly his might Upon the tirant Creon hem to wreake That all the people of Grece shulde speake How Creon was of Theseus yserued As he that hath his deth full well deserued And right anon withouten more abode His baner he displayed and forth rode To Thebes warde and all his hoost beside No nere Athens nolde he go ne ride Ne take his ease fully halfe a daye But onward on his way that night he laye And sent anone Ipolita the quene And Emely her yong sister shene Unto the towne of Athenes to dwell And forth he rideth there nys no more to tel THe red statu of Mars with spere and targe So shineth in his white baner large That all the feldes glyttern up and doun And by his baner borne is his penon Of golde ful riche in which there was ybete The mynotaure that he wan in Crete Thus rideth this duke this conquerour And in his hoste of chiualrie the flour Till that he came to Thebes and alight Fayre in a felde ther as he thought to fight But shortly for to speken of this thing With Creon which was of Thebes king He faught and slewe him manly as a knight In plaine battaile and put his folke to flight And at a saute he wan the cite after And rent adowne wall sparre and rafter And to the ladies he restored againe The bodies of her husbandes that were slain To done obsequies as tho was the gise But it were all to long for to deuise The great clamour and the weymenting That the ladies made at the brenning Of the bodies and the great honour That Theseus the noble conquerour Doth to the ladies when they from him went But shortly to tellen is mine entent When that this worthy duke this Theseus Hath Creon slaine and wan Thebes thus Still in the felde he toke all night his rest And did with all the countre as hem lest To ransake in the taas of bodies dede Hem for to stripe of harneys and of wede The pillours did her businesse and cure After the bataile and the discomfiture And so befell that in the taas they founde Though girt with many a greuous wound Two yong knightes lyeng by and by Both in armes same wrought full richely Of which two Arcite hight that one And that other hight Palamon Not fully quicke ne fully deed they were But by her cote armours and by her gere The Heraudes knew him best in speciall As tho that weren of the bloode riall Of Thebes and of sistren two yborne Out of the Taas the pillours hath hem torne And han hem caried softe into the tent Of Theseus and he full sone hem sent To Athenes to dwellen there in prison Perpetuell he nolde hem not raunson And whan this worthy duke had thus idon He toke his hooste and home he gothe anon With Laurel crowned as a conquerour And there he liueth in ioye and honour Terme of his life what needeth words mo And in a toure anguish and in wo Dwelleth Palamon and his fellowe Arcite For evermore there may no gold hem quite THus passeth yere by yere and day by day Till it fell ones in a morrowe of May That Emely that fayrer was to sene Than is the lylly upon the stalke grene And fresher than May with floures newe For with the Rose colour strofe her hewe I not which was the sayrer of them two Er it was day as was her won to do She was arisen and all redy dight For May wool haue no slogardy a night The season pricketh every gentell herte And maketh it out of ther slepe sterte And saith arise and do May obseruaunce This maketh Emely to haue remembraunce To done honour to May and for to rise Iclothed was she fresh for to deuise Her yellow heare was broided in a tresse Bahindeher backe a yerde long I gesse And in the gardyn at sunne uprist She walketh up and downe as her list She gathereth floures party white and reed To make a subtell garland for her heed And as an angel heuenly she song The great toure that was so thicke and strong Which of the castell was the chefe dungeon Wherein the knightes were in prison Of which I tolde you and tell shall Was even joynant to the garden wall There as this Emely had her playeing Bright was the sonne and clere the morning And Palamon this wofull prisoner As was his wont by leaue of his gayler Was risen and romed in a chambre on highe In which he all the noble cite sighe And eke the gardyn full of braunches greene There as this fresh Emely the shene Was in her walke and romed vp and doun This sorowful prisoner this Palamon Gothe in his chambre roming to and fro And to himselfe complaining of his wo That he was borne full ofte said alas And so befell my auenture or caas That through a window thick of many a bar Of yren great and square as any spar He cast his eyen vpon Emilia And therewith he blent and cried ha As though he stongen were to the herte And with that crie Arcite anon vp sterte And sayd cosyn myne what eyleth the That art so pale and deedly for to se Why criest thou who hath do the offence For Goddes loue take all in pacience Our prison for it maie none other be Fortune hath yeuen vs this aduersitie Some wicked aspect or disposicion Of Saturne by fome constellacion Hath yeuen vs this altho we had it sworn So stode the heuen when that we were born We mote endure this is short and playn This
seruant which that serued here Well couth he hewen wood and water bere For he was young and mighty for the nones And therto he was strong and bigge of bones To done that any wight gan him deuise A yere or two he was in this seruice Page of the chamber of Emelye the bright And Philostrate he saied that he hight But halfe so welbeloued man as he Ne was there none in court of his degre He was so gentill of condition That through all the court was his renon Thei said that it were a charitie That Theseus wold enhauncen his degre And put him in a wurshipfull seruice There as he might his vertue exercise And thus within a while his name is sprong Both of his dedes and of his good tong That Theseus hath taken him so nere That of his chamber he made him squiere And yaue him gold to maintain his degre And eke men brought him out of his contre Fro yere to yere full priuely his rent But honestly and slyly he it spent That no man wondered how he it had And thre yere in this wise his life he lade And bare him so in peace and eke in were There was no man that Theseus hath der And in this blisse let I now Arcite And speke I woll of Palamon alite In darknesse horrible and strong prison This seuen yere hath sitten this Palamon Forpined what for wo and distresse Who feleth double sore and heuinesse But Palamon that loue distraineth so That wode out of his wit he goeth for wo And eke therto he is a prisonere Perpetuel and not only for a yere Who could rime in English properly His martyrdome forsoth it am natl Therfore I passe as lightly as I may It befel that in the seuenth yere in May The third night as olde bokes sayne That all this story tellen more playne Were it by aduenture or by destine As when a thing is shapen it shal be That soon after midnight Palamon By helping of a frende brake his prison And fleeth the cite as falt as he may go For he hath yeuen the gailer drinke so Of a clarrie made of certain wine With Narcotise and Opie of Thebes fine That all the night though men wold him shake The gailer slept he nugh not awake And thus he fleeth as fast as he maie The night was short and fast by the daie That nedes cost he mote himselfe hide And to a groue fast there beside With dredfull foote than stalketh Palamon For shortly this was his opinion That in the groue he would him hide al daie And in the night than wold he take his waie To Thebes ward his friendes for to prie On Theseus to helpe him to warrie And shortly either he would lese his life Or winne Emelye vnto his wife This is the effect and his intent plain Now will I tourise to Artite again That little wist how me was his care Till that fortune had brought him in her snare The merie larke messanger of the daie Saleweth in her song on the morrow graie And firie Phebus riseth vp so bright That all the orisont laugheth of the sight And with his stremes drieth in the greues The siluer droppes hanging in the leues And Arcite that in the court reall With Theseus his squier principall Is risen and looketh on the merie daie And for to doen his obseruances to Maie Remembring on the poinct of his Desire He on his courser startlyng as the fire Is riden into the fieldes him to plaie Out of the court were it a mile or tweie And to the groue of whyche I you tolde By aduenture his way he gan holde To maken him a garlonde of the greues Were it of Wodbind or Hauthorn leues And loud he song ayenst the Sonne shene Maie with all thy floures and thy grene Welcome be thou faire freshe Maie I hope that I some grene get maie And from his courser with a lustie hert Into the groue full hastily he stert And in a pathe he romed vp and doun There as by aduenture this Palamon Was in a bushe that no man might hym se For sore afraied of death was he Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite God wote he would haue trowed full lite Both soth is saied go sighen many yeres That field hath jyen and wodde hath ere 's It is full fair a man to beare him euin For all daie men mete at vnset steuin Full little wote Arcite of his felawe That was so nigh to herken of his sawe For in the bushe sitteth he now full still When that Arcite had romed all his fill And songen all the roundell lustely Into a studie he fell sodenly Is doen these louers in their queint gires Now in the crop and now doun in the brires Now vp now doune as boket in a well Right as the Fridaie fothly for to tell Now it raineth now it shineth fast Right so gan gerie Venus ouercast The hartes of her folke right as her daie As gerifull right so chaungeth she araie Selde is the Friday all the weke alike When that Arcite had song he gan to sike And set him doun withouten any more Alas quoth he the daie that I was bore How long Juno with thy cruelte Wilt thou warren Thebes the citee Alas ibrought is to confusion The blood reall of Cadmus and Amphion Of Cadmus which was the first man That Thebes builte or first the toun began And of the citee first was crouned king Of his linage am I and of his spring By very line as of the stocke reall And now I am so caitiffe and so thrall That he that is my morrall enemie I serue him as his squire poorely And yet doeth me Juno well more shame For I dare nat be knowe myne owne name But there as I was wont to hight Arcite Now hight I Philostrat nat worth a mite Alas thou fell Mars alas thou fell Juno Thus hath your ire our linage all for do Saue only me and wretched Palamon That Theseus martireth in prison And ouer all this to slean me vtterly Loue hath his firie dart so brennyngly I sticked through my true carefull hert That shapen was my death erst my shert Ye slean me with your iyen Emelie Ye been the cause wherefore I die Of all the remenaunt of mine other care Ne set I nat the mountaunce of a Tare So that I cou'd do ought to your pleasaunce And with that word he fel down in a traunce A long time and afterward he vp stert This Palamon thought that through his hart He felt a colde sworde sodenly glide For ire he quoke no lenger could he abide And when that he had heard Arcite's tale As he were wode with face dedde and pale He stert him vp out of the bushes thicke And saied Arcite false traitour wicke Now art thou hent that louest my ladie so For whom that I haue this pain and wo And art my blood and to my counsell sworn As I haue full
service Hie labour and full great apparailyng Was at service and at fire makyng That with his grene top the heauen raught And twentie fadome of bred armes straught This is to sain the bowes were so brode Of strawe first there was laied many a lode But how the fire was malten up on height And eke the names how the trees height As oke firre beche aspe elder elme popelere Willow Holm Plane Boxe Chesten Laure Maple thorne beche ewe hasel Whipultre How they were felde shall not be tolde for me Ne how the goddes ronne up and doune Disherited of her habitation In which they wonned in rest and pees Nimphes Faunie and Amadriades Ne how the beastes ne the birdes all Fledden for feare when the trees fall Ne how the ground agast was of the light That was not wont to see the sunne bright Ne how the fire was couched first with stre And than with drie stickes clouen a thre And than with grene wodde and spicerie And than with cloth of gold and perrie And garlonds hanging with many a floure The mirre the ensence with swete odoure Ne how Arcite laie emong all this Ne what richesse about his bodie is Ne how that Emelye as was the gise Put in the fire of funerall seruice Ne how she souned whan maked was the fire Ne what she spake ne what was her desire Ne what jewels men in the fire cast Whan that the fire was great and brent fast Ne how some cast her shield and some her spere And of her vestments which that they were And cuppes full of wine milke and blood Into the fire that brent as it were wood Ne how the Grekes with a huge route Thrise ridden all the fire aboute Vpon the left hande with a loude shouting And thrise with her speres clattering And thrise how the ladies gan crie Ne how that ladde was homward Emelye Ne how that Arcite is brent to ashen cold Ne how the liche wake was hold All that night ne how the Grekes plaie The wake plaies kepe I nat to saie Who wrestled best naked with oile anoint Ne who bare him best in euery poinct I woll nat tellen how they gone Whom to Athenes whan the plaie is doen But shortly to the poinct than woll I wend And make of my long tale an ende By processe and by length of yeres All stinten is the murning and the teres Of Grekes by one generall assent Than semed me there was a Parlement At Athenes vpon a certain poinct and caas Emong the which poincts ispoken was To haue with certain countres aliaunce And haue of Thebans fullie obeisaunce For which this noble Theseus anon Let sende after this gentle Palamon Vnwiste of him what was the cause and why But in his blacke clothes sorowfully He came at his commaundement on hie Tho sent Theseus after Emelye When they were set and husht was the place And Theseus abidden hath a space Or any worde came from his wise brest His iyen sette he there as was his lest And with a sad visage he siked stil And after that right thus he saied his will The first mouer of the cause aboue Whan he first made the faire chaine of loue Great was theffect and hie was his entente Wel wist he why and what therof he mente For with that faire chaine of loue he bonde The fire the aire the water and the londe In certain bondes that they may nat flee The same prince and that mouer quod he Hath stablish'd in this wretched world adoun Certen of daies and duracioun To all that are engendred in this place Ouer the which daie they may nat pace All mowe they yet tho' daies abredge There needeth non aucthorite to ledge For it is proued by experience But that me list declare my sentence Then may men by this order discerne That thilke mouer stable is and eterne Well may men know but he be a foole That euery part is deriued from his hoole For nature hath nat taken his beginning Of one part or cantell of a thing But of a thing that persit is and stable Discending so till it be corrumpable And therefore of his wise purueiaunce He hath so well beset his ordinaunce That spaces of things and progressions Shullen endure by successions And not eterne without any lie Thus maist thou vnderstand and see at iye Lo the oke that hath so long a norishing Fro the time that it beginneth fyrst to spring And hath so long a life as ye may see Yet at the last wasted is the tree Considereth eke how that the hard stone Vnder our feete on which we tread and gone Yet wasteth it as it lieth in the weie The brode riuer somtime wexeth drie The great touns se we wane and wend Than ye see that all this thing hath end And man and woman see shall we also That endeth in one of the terms two That is to sain in youth or els in age He mote be dedde a king as well as a page Some in his bed some in the deepe see Some in the large field as ye may see It helpeth not al goeth that ilke weie Than maie you see that al thing mote deie What maketh this but Jupiter the king That is prince and cause of al thing Conuerting al to his proper will From which it is deriued soth to tell And here againe no creature on liue Of no degree auaileth for to striue Than is it wisedome as thinketh me To make vertue of necessite And take it wel that we may not eschewe And namely that to vs all is dewe And who so grutcheth aught he doth follie And rebell is to him that all may gie And certainly a man hath most honour To dien in his excellence and flour When he is siker of his good name Than hath he don his frends ne him no shame And glader ought his frends be of his death When with honour iyold is vp the breath Than when his name apaled is for age For all foryetten in his vassellage Than it is best as for a worthie fame To dien when he is of best name The contrarie of all this is wilfulnesse Why grutchen we why haue we heuinesse That good Arcite of cheualrie the flour Departed is with dutie and with honour Out of this foule prison of this life Why grutchen here his cosin and his wife Of his welfare that loueth him so wele Can he hem thank nay god wot neuer a dele That both his soule and eke hem offende And yet they mowe not her lustes amende What may conclude of this long storie But after sorow I rede vs be merie And thank Jupiter of all his grace And er we departen from this place I rede we maken of sorowes two One parfite ioie lasting euer mo And looke now where most sorrow is herein Ther wol I first amend and begin Suster qd he this is my full assent With al the people of my parlement That gentle Palamon your own knight That
serueth you with wil hert and might And euer hath done sith ye first him knew That ye shal of your grace vpon him rew And take him for husbonde and for lord Lene me your hand for this is our accord Let see now of your womanly pite He is a king's brother's sonne parde And though he were a poore bachelere Sin he hath serued you so many a yere And had for you so great aduersite It must been considered leueth me For gentle mercie ought to passen right Than said he thus to Palamon the knight I trow ther need little sarmoning To make you assenten to this thing Cometh nere and taketh your lady by the hond Betwixt hem was maked anon the bond That hight Matrimonie or Marriage By al the counsail of the baronage And thus with al blisse and melodie Hath Palamon iwedded Emelye And God that al this world hath wrought Send him his loue that it hath so dere bought For now is Palamon in al we le Liuing in blisse in riches and in hele And Emelye him loueth so tenderly And he her serueth so gentelly That neuer was ther no word hem bitween Of ielousie or of any other tene Thus endeth Palamon and Emelye And God saue al this faire company THE TALE OF THE Nun's Priest As it was written by GEFFREY CHAUCER The COCK and the FOX The Moral whereof is To embrace True Friends and to beware of Flatterers A Pore wedowe somedele istept in age War whilom dwelling in a poore cotage Beside a groue stonding in a dale This wedowe of which I tell you my tale Sens the day that she was last a wife In pacience led a full simple life For litell was her catell and her rent By husbondry of such as God her sent She fond her self and eke her daughters two Thre large sowes had she and no mo Thre kine and eke a shepe that hight Mall Well sooty was her boure and eke her hall In which she ete many a slender mole Of poinant sauce ne knew she never a dole Ne deinty morcell passed through her throte Her diet was accordaunt to her cote Replection ne made her never fike A temperate diete was her Phisike And exercise and hertes suffisaunce The gout let her nothing for to daunce Ne apoplexy shent nat her heed No wine ne dranke she white ne reed Her bord was most serued with white and black Milk and brounbreed in which she found no lack Seind bakon and somtime an eye or twey For she was as it were a maner dey A yerde she had enclosed all about With stickes and dry diched without In which she had a cocke hight Chaunteclere In all the land of crowing nas his pere His voice was merier than the mery orgon On masse daies that in the churches gon Well sikerer was his crowing in his loge Than is a clocke or in an abbey an orloge By nature he knew ech assencion Of the equinoctiall in the toun For when degrees xv were assended Than crew he that it might not be amended His come was redder than the fine corall And battelled as it had be a castell wall His bill was blacke as any iet it shone Like asure were his legges and his tone His nailes whiter than the lilly floure And like the burned gold was his colour This gentel cocke had in governaunce Seuen hennes to done his plesaunce Which were his susters and his paramours And wonder like to him as of colours Of which the fayrest hewed in the throte Was called faire Damosell Pertelote He fethered her a hundred times a day And she him pleseth all that euer she may Curteis she was discrete and debonaire And compeneable and bare her self so faire Sens the time that she was seuenight old That truelich she hath the hert in hold Of Chaunteclere looking in euery lith He loueth her so that well was him therwith But such a joy it was to here him sing Whan the bright sunne gan to spring In swete acord my lefe is ferre in lond For that time as I haue vnderstond Beestes and birdes could speke and sing And it so fell that in the dawning As Chaunteclere among his wiues all Sat on his perch that was in the hall And next him sat his faire Pertelote This Chaunteclere gan to grone in his throte As a man in his dreme is drenched sore And whan that Pertelote thus herd him rore She was agast and said hert dere What eyleth you to grone in this manere Ye be a very sleper sie for shame And he answered thus by God madame I pray you that ye take it not in grefe By God I mette I was in such mischiefe Right now that yet mine hert is sore afright Now God qd he my sweuen retch aright And kepe my body out of foule prisoun Me mette that I romed vp and doun Within our yerd where I saw a beest Was like an hound and would haue made areest Vpon my body and would haue had me deed His colour was betwixt yelow and reed And tipped was his taile and both his eeres With black vnlike the remnant of his heere 's His snout small with glowing eyen twey Yet for his loke almost for feare I dey This causeth me my groning doutlesse Away qd she sie for shame hertlesse Alas qd she for by God aboue Now haue ye lost my hert and all my loue I cannot loue a coward by my faith For certes what so any woman saith We all desire if that it might be To haue husbondes hardie wise and fre And secrete and no nigard ne no fole Ne him that is agast of euery tole Ne none auantour by that God aboue How durst ye say for shame vnto your loue That any sweuen might make you aferd Haue you no mannes hert and haue a berd Alas and con ye be aferd of sweuenis Nothing but vanite God wotte in sweuen is Swens ben engendred of repleccions And of fume and of commpleccions When humours ben to habundant in a wight Certes this dreme which ye haue met to night I tell you trouth ye may trust me Cometh of superfluite and reed colour parde Which cause folke to drede in her dremes Of arowes and of fire with reed lemes Of reed bestes that woll hem bite Of conteke and of waspes great and lite Right as the humour of melancoly Causeth many a man in slepe to cry For sere of great bulles and beres blake Or els that blake diuels wol hem take Of other humours could I tell also That werke a man in slepe much wo But I wol passe as lightly as I can Lo Caton which that was so wise a man Said he not thus do not force of dremes Now sir qd she when we flie fro the bemes For Goddes loue as taketh some laxatine Vp perill of my soule and of my life I counsaile you the best I woll not lye That both of colour and of melancolie Ye purge you and for ye shul not tary Though