Part 9
B rave Princes of this civil Age! E nter into this pilgrimage! T his Saint's tongue is an Oracle! H er eye hath made a Prince a page; A nd works, each day, a miracle!
R aise but your looks to her, and see E ven the true beams of Majesty! G reat Princes, mark her duly! I f all the world you do survey, N o forehead spreads so bright a ray; A nd notes a Prince, so truly!
HYMN IX.
_To FLORA._
E MPRESS of Flowers! Tell, where away L ies your sweet Court, this merry May? I n Greenwich garden alleys! S ince there the Heavenly Powers do play, A nd haunt no other valleys.
B EAUTY, VIRTUE, MAJESTY, E loquent MUSES, three times three, T he new fresh HOURS and GRACES H ave pleasure in this place to be, A bove all other places.
R oses and lilies did them draw, E re they, divine ASTRÆA saw: G ay flowers, they sought for pleasure. I nstead of gathering Crowns of Flowers, N ow, gather they ASTRÆA's dowers, A nd bear to heaven, that treasure.
HYMN X.
_To the Month of September._
E ACH month hath praise in some degree, L et May to others seem to be I n Sense, the sweetest season; S eptember! thou are best to me! A nd best doth please my Reason.
B ut neither for their corn, nor wine; E xtol I, those mild days of thine! T hough corn and wine might praise thee; H eaven gives thee honour more divine A nd higher fortunes raise thee!
R enowned art thou, sweet Month! for this. E mong thy days, her birthday is! G race, Plenty, Peace, and Honour I n one fair hour with her were born! N ow since, they still her crown adorn, A nd still attend upon her.
HYMN XI.
_To the Sun._
E YE of the world! Fountain of light! L ife of day, and death of night! I humbly seek thy kindness! S weet! dazzle not my feeble sight, A nd strike me not with blindness!
B ehold me mildly from that face E ven where thou now dost run thy race, T he sphere where now thou turnest, H aving, like PHÆTON changed thy place, A nd yet hearts only burnest.
R ed in her right cheek, thou dost rise E xalted after, in her eyes; G reat glory, there, thou shewest! I n th'other cheek, when thou descendest, N ew redness unto it thou lendest! A nd so thy Round, thou goest!
HYMN XII.
_To her Picture._
E XTREME was his audacity, L ittle his skill, that finished thee! I am ashamed and sorry, S o dull her counterfeit should be; A nd She, so full of glory!
B ut here are colours, red and white; E ach line, and each proportion right: T hese lines, this red and whiteness, H ave wanting yet a life and light, A majesty and brightness.
R ude counterfeit! I then did err; E ven now, when I would needs infer G reat boldness in thy maker! I did mistake! He was not bold, N or durst his eyes, her eyes behold: A nd this made him mistake her.
HYMN XIII.
_Of her Mind._
E ARTH, now adieu! My ravished thought L ifted to heaven, sets thee at nought! I nfinite is my longing, S ecrets of angels to be taught, A nd things to heaven belonging!
B rought down from heaven, of angels' kind, E ven now, do I admire her Mind! T his is my contemplation! H er clear sweet Spirit, which is refined A bove humane creation!
R ich sunbeam of th' Eternal Light! E xcellent Soul! How shall I write? G ood angels make me able! I cannot see but by your eye; N or but by your tongue, signify A thing so admirable.
HYMN XIV.
_Of the Sunbeams of her Mind._
E XCEEDING glorious is this Star! L et us behold her beams afar I n a side line reflected! S ight bears them not, when near they are A nd in right lines directed.
B ehold her in her virtue's beams, E xtending sun-like to all realms! T he sun none views too nearly. H er well of goodness, in these streams, A ppears right well and clearly.
R adiant virtues! if your light E nfeeble the best judgement's sight; G reat splendour above measure I s in the Mind, from whence you flow! N o wit may have access to know A nd view so bright a treasure.
HYMN XV.
_Of her Wit._
E YE of that Mind most quick and clear, L ike heaven's Eye, which from his sphere, I nto all things pryeth; S ees through all things everywhere, A nd all their natures trieth.
B right image of an angel's wit, E xceeding sharp and swift like it, T hings instantly discerning; H aving a nature infinite, A nd yet increased by learning.
R ebound upon thyself thy light! E njoy thine own sweet precious sight! G ive us but some reflection! I t is enough for us if we, N ow in her speech, now policy; A dmire thine high perfection!
HYMN XVI.
_Of her Will._
E VER well affected Will, L oving goodness, loathing ill! I nestimable treasure! S ince such a power hath power to spill, A nd save us, at her pleasure.
B e thou our law, sweet Will! and say E ven what thou wilt, we will obey! T his law, if I could read it. H erein would I spend night and day, A nd study still to plead it.
R oyal Free Will, and only free! E ach other will is slave to thee! G lad is each will to serve thee! I n thee such princely power is seen; N o spirit but takes thee, for her Queen! A nd thinks she must observe thee!
HYMN XVII.
_Of her Memory._
E XCELLENT jewels would you see? L ovely ladies! Come with me! I will (for love I owe you) S hew you as rich a treasury A s East or West can shew you!
B ehold! (if you can judge of it) E ven that great Storehouse of her Wit! T hat beautiful large table, H er Memory! wherein is writ A ll knowledge admirable.
R ead this fair book, and you shall learn E xquisite skill, if you discern; G ain heaven, by this discerning! I n such a memory divine, N ature did form the Muses nine, A nd PALLAS, Queen of Learning.
HYMN XVIII.
_Of her Phantasy._
E XQUISITE curiosity! L ook on thyself, with judging eye! I f ought be faulty, leave it! S o delicate a Phantasy A s this, will straight perceive it
B ecause her temper is so fine, E ndued with harmonies divine; T herefore if discord strike it, H er true proportions do repine, A nd sadly do mislike it.
R ight otherwise, a pleasure sweet, E ver she takes in actions meet, G racing with smiles such meetness: I n her fair forehead beams appear, N o Summer's day is half so clear! A dorned with half that sweetness!
HYMN XIX.
_Of the Organs of her Mind._
E CLIPSED She is, and her bright rays L ie under veils; yet many ways I s her fair form revealed! S he diversely herself conveys, A nd cannot be concealed.
B y instruments, her powers appear E xceedingly well tuned and clear! T his Lute is still in measure, H olds still in tune, even like a sphere, A nd yields the world sweet pleasure!
R esolve me, Muse! how this thing is? E ver a body like to this, G ave heaven to earthly creature? I am but fond this doubt to make! N o doubt, the angels, bodies take A bove our common nature!
HYMN XX.
_Of the Passions of her Heart._
E XAMINE not th' inscrutable Heart, L ight Muse! of Her, though She in part I mpart it to the subject! S earch not! although from heaven thou art! A nd this a heavenly object.
B ut since She hath a heart, we know E ver some Passions thence do flow, T hough ever ruled with honour. H er judgement reigns! They wait below, A nd fix their eyes upon her!
R ectified so, they, in their kind, E ncrease each virtue of her Mind, G overned with mild tranquility. I n all the regions under heaven, N o State doth bear itself so even, A nd with so sweet facility.
HYMN XXI.
_Of the innumerable Virtues of her Mind._
E RE thou proceed in these sweet pains, L earn Muse! how many drops it rains I n cold and moist December! S um up May flowers! and August's grains! A nd grapes of mild September!
B ear the sea's sand in Memory! E arth's grasses! and the stars in sky! T he little moats, which mounted H ang in the beams of PHŒBUS' eye, A nd never can be counted!
R ecount these numbers, numberless, E re thou, her virtue canst express! G reat wits, this count will cumber! I nstruct thyself in numbering schools! N ow Courtiers use to beg for fools; A ll such as cannot number.
HYMN XXII.
_Of her Wisdom._
E AGLE-eyed Wisdom! Life's loadstar! L ooking near, on things afar! I OVE's best beloved daughter! S hews to her spirit all that are! A s JOVE himself hath taught her.
B y this straight rule, She rectifies E ach thought, that in her heart doth rise; T his is her clear true Mirror! H er Looking Glass, wherein She spies A ll forms of Truth and Error.
R ight Princely virtue, fit to reign! E nthronised in her spirit remain, G uiding our fortunes ever! I f we this Star once cease to see; N o doubt our State will shipwrecked be, A nd torn and sunk for ever.
HYMN XXIII.
_Of her Justice._
E XILED ASTRÆA is come again! L o here She doth all things maintain I n number, weight, and measure! S he rules us, with delightful pain, A nd we obey with pleasure!
B y Love, She rules more than by Law! E ven her great Mercy breedeth awe; T his is her sword and sceptre! H erewith She hearts did ever draw, A nd this guard ever kept her.
R eward doth sit in her right hand! E ach Virtue, thence takes her garland, G athered in Honour's garden! I n her left hand (wherein should be N ought but the sword) sits Clemency! A nd conquers Vice with pardon.
HYMN XXIV.
_Of her Magnanimity._
E VEN as her State, so is her Mind L ifted above the vulgar kind! I t treads proud Fortune under! S unlike, it sits above the wind; A bove the storms, and thunder.
B rave Spirit! Large Heart! admiring nought! E steeming each thing, as it ought! T hat swelleth not, nor shrinketh! H onour is always in her thought; A nd of great things, She thinketh!
R ocks, pillars, and heaven's axletree E xemplify her Constancy! G reat changes never change her! I n her sex, fears are wont to rise; N ature permits, Virtue denies, A nd scorns the face of danger!
HYMN XXV.
_Of her Moderation._
E MPRESS of Kingdoms, though She be; L arger is her Sovereignty, I f She herself do govern! S ubject unto herself is She; A nd of herself, true Sovereign!
B eauty's Crown, though She do wear; E xalted into Fortune's Chair; T hroned like the Queen of Pleasure: H er virtues still possess her ear, A nd counsel her to Measure!
R eason (if She incarnate were) E ven Reason's self could never bear G reatness with Moderation! I n her, one temper still is seen. N o liberty claims She as Queen! A nd shows no alteration!
HYMN XXVI.
E NVY, go weep! My Muse and I L augh thee to scorn! Thy feeble eye I s dazzled with the glory S hining in this gay Poesy, A nd little golden Story!
B ehold, how my proud quill doth shed E ternal nectar on her head! T he pomp of Coronation H ath not such power, her fame to spread, A s this my admiration!
R espect my pen, as free and frank; E xpecting nor reward, nor thank! G reat wonder only moves it! I never made it mercenary! N or should my Muse, this burden carry A s hired; but that she loves it!
_FINIS._
SIX IDILLIA,
THAT IS,
SIX SMALL, OR PETTY, POEMS, OR ÆGLOGUES,
chosen out of the right famous Sicilian Poet
THEOCRITUS,
And translated into English verse.
_Dum defluat amnis._
PRINTED
At Oxford by IOSEPH BARNES.
1588.
E. D.
Libenter hic, et omnis exantlabitur Labor, in tuæ spem gratiæ. [HORACE, _Epodes_ i. 23-24.]
SIX IDILLIA
chosen out of the famous Sicilian Poet
THEOCRITUS,
and translated into English verse.
THE EIGHTH IDILLION.
Argument.
MENALCAS a Shepherd and DAPHNIS a Neatherd, two Sicilian Lads, contending who should sing best, pawn their Whistles; and choose a Goatherd to be their Judge: who giveth sentence on DAPHNIS his side. The thing is imagined to be done in the Isle of Sicily, by the sea-shore. Of whose singing, this Idillion is called _Bucoliastæ_, that is, "Singers of a Neatherd's Song."
_BUCOLIASTÆ_.
DAPHNIS, MENALCAS, Goatherd.
With lovely Neatherd DAPHNIS on the hills, they say, Shepherd MENALCAS met upon a summer's day: Both youthful striplings, both had yellow heads of hair; In whistling both, and both in singing skilful were.
MENALCAS first, beholding DAPHNIS, thus bespake:
MENALCAS.
"Wilt thou in singing, Neatherd DAPHNIS, undertake To strive with me? For I affirm that, at my will, I can thee pass!" Thus DAPHNIS answered on the hill.
DAPHNIS.
"Whistler MENALCAS, thou shalt never me excel In singing, though to death with singing thou should'st swell!"
MENALCAS.
"Then wilt thou see, and something for the victor wage?"
DAPHNIS.
"I will both see, and something for the victor gage!"
MENALCAS.
"What therefore shall we pawn, that for us may be fit?"
DAPHNIS.
"I'll pawn a calf; a wennell lamb lay thou to it!"
MENALCAS.
"I'll pawn no lamb: for both my Sire and Mother fell Are very hard; and all my sheep at e'en they tell."
DAPHNIS.
"What then? What shall he gain that wins the victory?"
MENALCAS.
"A gallant Whistle which I made with notes thrice three, Joined with white wax, both e'en below and e'en above; This will I lay! My father's things I will not move!"
DAPHNIS.
"And I a Whistle have with notes thrice three a row, Joined with white wax, both e'en below and e'en above. I lately framed it: for this finger yet doth ache With pricking, which a splinter of the reed did make. But who shall be our Judge, and give us audience?"
MENALCAS.
"What if we call this Goatherd here, not far from hence, Whose dog doth bark hard by the kids?" The lusty boys Did call him, and the Goatherd came to hear their toys. The lusty boys did sing, the Goatherd judgment gave. MENALCAS first, by lot, unto his Whistle brave, Did sing a Neatherd's Song; and Neatherd DAPHNIS then Did sing, by course: but first MENALCAS thus began:
MENALCAS.
"Ye Groves and Brooks divine, if on his reed MENALCAS ever sang a pleasant Lay; Fat me these lambs! If DAPHNIS here will feed His calves, let him have pasture too I pray!"
DAPHNIS.
"Ye pleasant Springs and Plants, would DAPHNIS had As sweet a voice as have the nightingales! Feed me this herd! and if the Shepherd's lad MENALCAS comes, let him have all the dales!"
MENALCAS.
"'Tis ever Spring; there meads are ever gay; There strout the bags; there sheep are fatly fed, When DAPHNE comes! Go she away; Then both the Shepherd there, and grass are dead."
DAPHNIS.
"There both the ewes, and goats, bring forth their twins; There bees do fill their hives; there oaks are high; Where MILO treads! When he away begins To go, both Neatherd and the neat wax dry."
MENALCAS.
"O husband of the goats! O wood so high! O kids! come to this brook, for he is there! Thou with the broken horns tell MILO shy, That PROTEUS kept sea-calves, though god he were."
DAPHNIS.
"Nor PELOPS' kingdom may I crave, nor gold; Nor to outrun the winds upon a lea: But in this cave I'll sing, with thee in hold, Both looking on my sheep, and on the sea."
MENALCAS.
"A tempest marreth trees; and drought, a spring: Snares unto fowls, to beasts nets, are a smart; Love spoils a man. O JOVE, alone his sting I have not felt; for thou a lover art!"
Thus sang these boys, by course, with voices strong; MENALCAS then began a latter song:
MENALCAS.
"Wolf, spare my kids! and spare my fruitful sheep! And hurt me not! though but a lad, these flocks I guide. Lampur my dog, art thou indeed so sound asleep? Thou should'st not sleep while thou art by thy master's side! My sheep, fear not to eat the tender grass at will! Nor when it springeth up again, see that you fail! Go to, and feed apace, and all your bellies fill! That part your lambs may have; and part, my milking pail."
Then DAPHNIS in his turn sweetly began to sing:
DAPHNIS.
"And me, not long ago, fair DAPHNE whistly eyed As I drove by; and said, I was a paragon: Nor then indeed to her I churlishly replied; But, looking on the ground, my way still held I on. Sweet is a cow-calf's voice, and sweet her breath doth smell; A bull calf, and a cow, do low full pleasantly. 'Tis sweet in summer by a spring abroad to dwell! Acorns become the oak; apples, the apple-tree; And calves, the kine; and kine, the Neatherd much set out."
Thus sung these youths. The Goatherd thus did end the doubt:
Goatherd.
"O DAPHNIS, what a dulcet mouth and voice thou hast! 'Tis sweeter thee to hear than honey-combs to taste! Take thee these Pipes, for thou in singing dost excel! If me, a Goatherd, thou wilt teach to sing so well; This broken-hornèd goat, on thee bestow I will! Which to the very brim, the pail doth ever fill."
So then was DAPHNIS glad, and lept and clapt his hands; And danced as doth a fawn, when by the dam he stands. MENALCAS grieved, the thing his mind did much dismay: And sad as Bride he was, upon the marriage day.
Since then among the Shepherds, DAPHNIS chief was had! And took a Nymph to wife when he was but a lad.
DAPHNIS his Emblem.
_Me tamen urit Amor._
MENALCAS his Emblem.
_At hæc DAPHNE forsan probet._
Goatherd's Emblem.
_Est minor nemo nisi comparatus_
THE ELEVENTH IDILLION.
Argument.
THEOCRITUS wrote this Idillion to NICIAS a learned Physician: wherein he sheweth--by the example of POLYPHEMUS a giant in Sicily, of the race of the CYCLOPS, who loved the Water Nymph GALATEA--that there is no medicine so sovereign against Love as is Poetry. Of whose Love Song, as this Idillion, is termed CYCLOPS; so he was called CYCLOPS, because he had but one eye, that stood like a circle in the midst of his forehead.
_CYCLOPS_.
O Nicias, there is no other remedy for Love, With ointing, or with sprinkling on, that ever I could prove, Beside the Muses nine! This pleasant medicine of the mind Grows among men; and seems but light, yet very hard to find: As well I wote you know; who are in physic such a Leech, And of the Muses so beloved. The cause of this my speech A CYCLOPS is, who lived here with us right wealthily; That ancient POLYPHEM, when first he loved GALATE (When, with a bristled beard, his chin and cheeks first clothed were): He loved her not with roses, apples, or with curlèd hair; But with the Furies' rage. All other things he little plied. Full often to their fold, from pastures green, without a guide, His sheep returnèd home: when all the while he singing lay In honour of his Love, and on the shore consumed away From morning until night; sick of the wound, fast by the heart, Which mighty VENUS gave, and in his liver stuck the dart. For which, this remedy he found, that sitting oftentimes Upon a rock and looking on the sea, he sang these rhymes:
"O GALATEA fair, why dost thou shun thy lover true? More tender than a lamb, more white than cheese when it is new, More wanton than a calf, more sharp than grapes unripe, I find. You use to come when pleasant sleep, my senses all do bind: But you are gone again when pleasant sleep doth leave mine eye; And as a sheep you run, that on the plain a wolf doth spy.
"I then began to love thee, GALATE, when first of all You, with my mother, came to gather leaves of crowtoe [_hyacinth_] small Upon our hill; when I, as Usher, squired you all the way. Nor when I saw thee first, nor afterwards, nor at this day, Since then could I refrain: but you, by Jove! nought set thereby!
"But well I know, fair Nymph, the very cause why thus you fly. Because upon my front, one only brow, with bristles strong From one ear to the other ear is stretchèd all along: 'Neath which, one eye; and on my lips, a hugy nose, there stands. Yet I, this such a one, a thousand sheep feed on these lands; And pleasant milk I drink, which from the strouting bags is presst. Nor want I cheese in summer, nor in autumn of the best, Nor yet in winter time. My cheese racks ever laden are; And better can I pipe than any CYCLOPS may compare. O apple sweet! of thee, and of myself I use to sing, And that at midnight oft. For thee! eleven fawns up I bring, All great with young: and four bears' whelps, I nourish up for thee! But come thou hither first, and thou shall have them all of me. And let the bluish coloured sea beat on the shore so nigh, The night with me in cave, thou shalt consume more pleasantly! There are the shady bays, and there tall cypress trees do sprout: And there is ivy black, and fertile vines are all about. Cool water there I have, distilled of the whitest snow, A drink divine, which out of woody Etna mount doth flow. In these respects, who in the sea and waves would rather be?
"But if I seem as yet too rough and savage unto thee, Great store of oaken wood I have, and never-quenchèd fire; And I can well endure my soul to burn with thy desire, With this my only eye, than which I nothing think more trim: Now woe is me, my mother bore me not with fins to swim! That I might dive to thee; that I thy dainty hand might kiss, If lips thou wouldst not let. Then would I lilies bring iwis, And tender poppy-toe that bears a top like rattles red, And these in summer time: but others are in winter bred, So that I cannot bring them all at once. Now certainly I'll learn to swim of some or other stranger passing by, That I may know what pleasure 'tis in waters deep to dwell.
"Come forth, fair GALATE! and once got out, forget thee well (As I do, sitting on this rock) home to return again! } But feed my sheep with me, and for to milk them take the pain! } And cheese to press, and in the milk the rennet sharp to strain! } My mother only wrongeth me; and her I blame, for she Spake never yet to thee one good, or lovely, word of me: And that, although she daily sees how I away do pine. But I will say, 'My head and feet do ache,' that she may whine, And sorrow at the heart: because my heart with grief is swoll'n.
"O CYCLOPS, CYCLOPS! whither is thy wit and reason flown? If thou would'st baskets make; and cut down brouzing from the tree, And bring it to thy lambs, a great deal wiser thou should'st be! Go, coy some present Nymph! Why dost thou follow flying wind? Perhaps another GALATE, and fairer, thou shalt find! For many Maidens in the evening tide with me will play, } And all do sweetly laugh, when I stand heark'ning what they say: } And I somebody seem, and in the earth do bear a sway." }
Thus POLYPHEMUS singing, fed his raging love of old; Wherein he sweeter did, than had he sent her sums of gold.
POLYPHEM's Emblem.
_Ubi Dictamum inventiam?_
THE SIXTEENTH IDILLION.
Argument.