Chapter 3

GISMUNDA _in purple cometh out of her chamber, attended by four maids that are the Chorus_.

GISMUNDA. "O vain, unsteadfast state of mortal things! Who trust this world, leans to a brittle stay: Such fickle fruit his flattering bloom forth brings, Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay." The joy and bliss that late I did possess, In weal at will, with one I loved best, Is turned now into so deep distress, As teacheth me to know the world's unrest.[42] For neither wit nor princely stomachs serve Against his force, that slays without respect The noble and the wretch: ne doth reserve So much as one for worthiness elect. Ah me, dear lord! what well of tears may serve To feed the streams of my foredulled eyes, To weep thy death, as thy death doth deserve, And wail thy want in full sufficing wise? Ye lamps of heaven, and all ye heavenly powers,[43] Wherein did he procure your high disdain? He never sought with vast huge mountain towers To reach aloft, and over-view your reign: Or what offence of mine was it unwares, That thus your fury should on me be thrown, To plague a woman with such endless cares? I fear that envy hath the heavens this shown: The sun his glorious virtues did disdain; Mars at his manhood mightily repin'd; Yea, all the gods no longer could sustain, Each one to be excelled in his kind. For he my lord surpass'd them every one;[44] Such was his honour all the world throughout. But now, my love, oh! whither art thou gone? I know thy ghost doth hover hereabout, Expecting me, thy heart, to follow thee: And I, dear love, would fain dissolve this strife. But stay awhile, I may perhaps foresee Some means to be disburden'd of this life, "And to discharge the duty of a wife,[45] Which is, not only in this life to love, But after death her fancy not remove." Meanwhile accept of these our daily rites, Which with my maidens I shall do to thee, Which is in songs to cheer our dying sprites With hymns of praises of thy memory.

_Cantant.

Quae mihi cantio nondum occurrit_.[46]