Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A18949
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The rape of Proserpine. Translated out of Claudian in Latine, into English verse: by Leonard Digges, Gent; De raptu Proserpinae. English
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Claudianus, Claudius.; Digges, Leonard, 1588-1635.
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1617
(1617)
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STC 5367; ESTC S108051
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32,436
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78
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their feet The VVater-Nymphes each to her liquid Sire Leanes and dumbe gazing Fawns heau'ns stars admire Then the graue father from Olympus high Thus spoke and breathed forth this mysterie At length the care of mans affaires againe Solicites me which since the lazie reigne Of idle Saturne long neglected were VVhen we perceiu'd how men secure from feare Lay steep't and buri'd in my fathers sloth Then to giue further suff'rance we were loth But willing to reforme the same in part Spurr'd vp inuention and gaue reines to Art Then were we pleased that th' vntilled field Lesse liberall lesse store of Graine should yeeld That hony in the woods more scarce should grow And wine no more from swelling Fountaines flow Not that we enuious were or basely prone To pois'nous malice but when ouer-growne VVe plenty saw and easefull ryot blind The light of reason to disswade mankind VVe willing were dull spirits to reuiue That each man might by his owne labour liue That sharpe necessity should then produce And bring forth arts to be brought vp by vse But Nature vrgeth vs with sad complaint To ease poore man for such a burden faint And hauing to my charge the Tyrant layd VVith former golden age doth vs vpbrayd She calls Ioue Miser sayes that she is franke Exclaimes that we the fields with thistles ranke And to growe barren suffer that the yeere Doth fruitlesse passe That she who vnto mortals long did vowe Her selfe Kinde mother is turn'd Stepdame now And thus proceeds what boots it wretched man To haue a soule from heauen infus'd that can Discourse and reason and his lofty head Lift vp if he like beasts a life must lead VVandring with them in the wild woods to get The fruit of Swinish acorns for his meate Is this sayth she to liue with such distast The common mother vrg'd that we at last Contented were she thus much should obtaine That from Chaonian food her sonnes abstaine To which effect we solemnly decree That Ceres of her daughters Destinie Witlesse who now with her curst Damme remaines Lashing th' Idean Lyons o're those Plaines With wailefull mourning search the world throughout Till hauing in th' end of her pledge found out In signe of her new ioy for old griefe past Huge heapes of haruest she may from her cast From golden Carre and spread ripe eares of corne Vpon the fields by her blue Dragons borne But list you gods if any here reueale The rape of Proserpine or not conceale The Rauisher from Ceres I protest A gen'rall ruine to the peace and rest Of things be he a sonne or sister she Or wife of mine or that deere daughter be That from my brain-pan boasts her birth shal feele The stroke of thunder and reuengefull steele Of Gorgons fury and though she must liue For deities dye not yet shall she grieue To haue been borne of heauen and wish for death Like punishment my vengeance shall vnsheath On any of you Riuers that withstand The secresie of this my strict command By me first wounded him my sonne in lawe Repunish shall this for a sacred lawe Establish't stand this sayd and past for fate The starres were shak't and seate whereon he sate And now the apparitions of blacke night And fearefull mischiefe Ceres do affright Who absent from this Synode and secure To her still thought could sweetest rest procure But now each moment doth ingeminate Her doubtfull feares and vgly night as fate Whispers the sad mishap of Proserpine Who in each dreame of hers seemes to decline More from her pristine being eu'ry sleepe Of Ceres her vext soule in cares doth steepe So still she groanes in night and when day comes Cold wonderment her stupid sence benummes Till next night's fantasies in which a dart One while her seemeth to her daughters heart Fast'ned appeares and as a horrid sight She loathes her garment chang'd from chastest white The trees that in her walkes she long did know Barren now fresh she thinkes and fruitfull growe But one amongst them all she liked best Whose shamefac't leaues seru'd for a shade in rest To Proserpine the Bay tree that she sees Cut from the root and by strange cruelties Of art the boughes lopt off boughes that abouud In freshnesse now ly wither'd on the ground And as she thought of this great wickednesse Enquiring wofull Driades expresse The lamentable Storie here say they The raging Fiends haue made a bloudy Fray VVith hellish axe and layd the dust along Thy lawrell greene fresh feeling of it's wrong At length all circumstances all disguise Vnmask'd poore Ceres her ill fortune spies In her owne child that now her selfe appeares Her owne forc't-messenger wet-visage cleeres All wau'ring doubts which when the goddesse wakes She puts away and on her new griefe takes For Proserpine appear'd as if she seem'd Shut in close prison and her mother deem'd Her fetter'd with strong shackles not as she VVas left by her in fruitfull Stcilie Nor as the goddesses her found when they In Aetnas rosie vallies her astray Did leade but now those lockes she might behold VVhilome surprissing ambar and faire gold In brightnes squallid blacke the sparkling light Fire of her eyes extinguisht is by night A night of sorrow and that blushing red Vpon her cheeke exhaust with cold growne dead The Rubies of her well grac't lippes quite spent And limbes then snow erst whiter with the sent And colour of hels pitch defil'd to view Of Ceres were so strange she scarce her knew Yet seeing her so chang'd goods what a sight Is here sayth she what bitter wofull plight What fault what punishments are these what face What macerated monster of disgrace Is this she addes who thus hath pow'r she cries Hath pow'r thus much on vs to tyrannize Why bearest thou these bonds this chaine vnfit For wild beasts Doe thy soft armes merit it Art thou quoth she my child or dreame I art mine VVhen the vex't Image of poore Proserpine Reply'd with terrour Mother oh thou blinde Mother oh thou to thy lost child vnkinde Could'st thou more cruell then the Lyons whom Thou kept'st in awe so long thy comming home Deferre and me that was thine only deare So long forget was I despis'd then heare A dolefull truth that name of Proserpine So sweet to thee so lou'd so only thine Only that name remaines for see behold VVhat punishment what bonds do me infold But cruell thou in vprore with a song Through Phrigian Cities hurri'st and of wrong To me art witlesse yet if mothers brest Haue not quite lest thee if thou yet it blest And holy Ceres bear'st the name let me Begge one boone at thy hands my liberty Carry me vp againe but if too late I striue ' gainst Ioue and my prefixed fate If backe I neuer must returne yet thou At least with comfortable visit now Come see mee thus she spake and going about To stretch her hands she could not hold them out So clogg'd with yr'ns that as she vanisht