Part 38

Come, Fates; I feare you not. All whom I owe Are paid, but you. Then rest me ere I goe. But, Chance from you all soveraignty hath got, Love woundeth none but those whom death dares not; Else, if you were, and just, in equitie 5 I should have vanquish'd her, as you did me. Else Lovers should not brave death's pains, and live, But 'tis a rule, _Death comes not to relieve_. Or, pale and wan deaths terrours, are they lay'd So deepe in Lovers, they make death afraid? 10 Or (the least comfort) have I company? Orecame she Fates, Love, Death, as well as mee? Yes, Fates doe silke unto her distaffe pay, For their ransome, which taxe on us they laye. Love gives her youth, which is the reason why 15 Youths, for her sake, some wither and some die. Poore Death can nothing give; yet, for her sake, Still in her turne, he doth a Lover take: And if Death should prove false, she feares him not; Our Muses, to redeeme her she hath got. 20 That fatall night wee last kiss'd, I thus pray'd, Or rather, thus despair'd; I should have said: Kisses, and yet despaire? The forbid tree Did promise (and deceive) no more then shee. Like Lambs that see their teats, and must eat Hay, 25 A food, whose tast hath made me pine away. _Dives_, when thou saw'st blisse, and crav'dst to touch A drop of water, thy great paines were such. Here griefe wants a fresh wit, for mine being spent, And my sighes weary, groanes are all my rent; 30 Vnable longer to indure the paine, They breake like thunder, and doe bring down rain. Thus, till dry teares soulder mine eyes, I weepe; And then, I dreame, how you securely sleepe, And in your dreames doe laugh at me. I hate, 35 And pray Love, All may: He pitties my state, But sayes, I therein no revenge should finde; The Sunne would shine, though all the world were blind. Yet, to trie my hate, Love shew'd me your teare; And I had dy'd, had not your smile beene there. 40 Your frowne undoes me; your smile is my wealth; And as you please to looke, I have my health. Me thought, Love pittying me, when he saw this, Gave me your hands, the backs and palmes to kisse. That cur'd me not, but to beare paine gave strength, 45 And what it lost in force, it tooke in length. I call'd on Love againe, who fear'd you so, That his compassion still prov'd greater woe; For, then I dream'd I was in bed with you, But durst not feele, for feare't should not prove true. 50 This merits not your anger, had it beene, The Queene of Chastitie was naked seene; And in bed, not to feele, the paine I tooke, Was more then for _Actæon_ not to looke. And that brest which lay ope, I did not know, 55 But for the clearnesse, from a lump of snowe, Nor that sweet teat which on the top it bore From the rose-bud, which for my sake you wore. These griefs to issue forth, by verse, I prove, Or turne their course, by travaile, or new love: 60 All would not doe. The best at last I tryde: Unable longer to hould out I dyed. And then I found I lost life, death by flying: Who hundreds live are but soe long a dying. Charon did let me passe: I'le him requite. 65 To marke the groves or shades wrongs my delight. I'le speake but of those ghosts I found alone, Those thousand ghosts, whereof myself made one, All images of thee. I ask'd them, why? The Judge told me, all they for thee did dye, 70 And therefore had for their Elisian blisse, In one another their owne Loves to kisse. O here I miss'd not blisse, but being dead; For loe, I dream'd, I dream'd; and waking said, Heaven, if who are in thee there must dwell, 75 How is't, I now was there, and now I fell.

[An Elegie. Reflecting on _&c._ _A10_: An Elegie. _H39_, _H40_, _L74_, _RP31_: Eleg. XIII. _1635-69_: _no title_, _Cy_: Elegie. _P_]

[5 Else, if you were, and just, in equitie _H39_: Else, if you were, and just in equitie, _1635-54_, _Grosart_: True, if you were, and just in equitie, _1669_, _Chambers_ (True)]

[12 Orecame she Fates, Love, Death, _MSS._: Or can the Fates love death, _1635-69_]

[13 distaffe _1635-69_, _H39_, _L74_: distaves _A10_, _H40_, _RP31_]

[14 For their ... on us they laye. _Cy_, _H39_, _H40_, _L74_, _P_: For ransome, which taxe they on us doe lay. _1635-69_: For Ransome, but a taxe on us they lay: _A10_]

[17-19 Death] death _1635-69_]

[18 take: _H40_, _L74_: take. _1635-69_]

[21 That fatall night we last kiss'd _1635-69_: That last fatall night wee kiss'd _A10_, _H39_, _H40_, _L74_, _P_, _RP31_]

[22 _in brackets_ _1635-69_

said: _Ed_: said, _1635-69_]

[23 despaire? _Ed_: despaire. _1635-69_]

[24 shee.] yee. _A10_, _H40_]

[28 A drop of water, thy greate _1635-69_: A small little drop, thy _Cy_, _H39_ (then thy), _H40_, _L74_, _P_: The poorest little drop, thy _A10_]

[63 life] lif's _Grosart_: _spelt lief_ _H40_]

[64 Who] Where _Grosart_]

[66 marke] walke _Grosart_

or] and _A10_]

[67 but] out _Grosart_, _from H39_]

[68 Those thousand] Thousand _A10_]

[72 In one] _omit_. _Grosart_]

[74 (For loe I dreampt) _H39 and Grosart_]

[75 Heaven] O Heaven _A10_]

_An Elegie to M^{ris} Boulstred_: 1602.

Shall I goe force an Elegie? abuse My witt? and breake the Hymen of my muse For one poore houres love? Deserves it such Which serves not me, to doe on her as much? Or if it could, I would that fortune shunn: 5 Who would be rich, to be foe foone undone? The beggars best is, wealth he doth not know; And but to shew it him, encreases woe. But we two may enjoye an hour? when never It returnes, who would have a losse for ever? 10 Nor can so short a love, if true, but bring A halfe howres feare, with the thought of losing: Before it, all howres were hope; and all are (That shall come after it,) yeares of dispaire. This joye brings this doubt, whether it were more 15 To have enjoy'd it, or have died before? T'is a lost paradise, a fall from grace, Which I thinke, Adam felt more then his race. Nor need those angells any other Hell; It is enough for them, from Heaven they fell. 20 Besides, Conquest in love is all in all; That when I liste, shee under me may fall: And for this turne, both for delight and view, I'le have a Succuba, as good as you. But when these toyes are past, and hott blood ends, 25 The best enjoying is, we still are frends. Love can but be frendshipps outside; their two Beauties differ, as myndes and bodies do. Thus, I this great Good still would be to take, Vnless one houre, another happy make: 30 Or, that I might forgett it instantlie; Or in that blest estate, that I might die. But why doe I thus travaile in the skill Of despis'd poetrie, and perchance spill My fortune? or undoe myself in sport 35 By having but that dangerous name in Court? I'le leave, and since I doe your poet prove, Keep you my lines as secret as my Love.

[An Elegie _&c._ _A10_, _L74_ (J. R. _in margin_), _RP31_: Elegie _N_, _TCD_ (J. R.): Elegie to his M. promissing to love him an hour. _HN_ (_signed J. R._): An Elegy 1602. To M^{rs} Boulstrede. _Le Prince d'Amour. &c._ _1660

[7 text from HN_: The beggers best is, that wealth he doth know, _A10_: The beggar's best, his _&c._ _L74_, _RP31_, _N_, _TCD_, _Sim_: The beggar's best that _Grosart_]

[9 two _Sim_: _om. HN_, _L74_, _N_, _RP31_, _TCD_: But we an hour may now enjoy when never _A10_

hour?] hour; _L74_]

[10 It returnes] Again't returnes _A10_]

[16 or have] or else _A10_]

[21 Besides, _A10_: Beside, _L74_]

[23 delight] despite _A10_]

[27 but be] be but _Sim_

their _Ed_: there _A10_, _L74_]

[30 one] on _L74_]

[32 _Poem closes_, _A10_]

[34 despis'd poetrie,] deeper mysteries, _Sim_]

_An Elegie._

True Love findes witt, but he whose witt doth move Him to love, confesses he doth not love: And from his witt, passions and true desire Are forc'd as hard, as from the flint is fire. My love's all fire whose flames my soule do nurse, 5 Whose smokes are sighes; whose every sparke's a verse. Doth measure women win? Then I know why Most of our Ladies with the Scotts doe lie. A Scott is measur'd in each syllable, terse And smooth as a verse: and like that smooth verse 10 Is shallow, and wants matter, but in his handes, And they are rugged; Her state better standes Whom dauncing measures tempted, not the Scott: In brief she's out of measure, lost, soe gott. Greene-sickness wenches, (not needes must but) may 15 Looke pale, breathe short; at Court none so long stay. Good witt ne're despair'd there, or _Ay me_ said: For never Wench at Court was ravished. And shee but cheates on Heaven, whom you so winne Thinking to share the sport, but not the sinne. 20

[An Elegie. _A10_: _similarly_, _B_, _H40_, _L74_, _O'F_, _RP31_: Elegia Undecima. _S_: _no title_, _Cy_, _P_ (J. D _in margin_): _first printed by Grosart_]

[1 findes] kindles _RP31_]

[5 do _A10_, _L74_: doth _Grosart and Chambers_]

[7 women win? _A10_: win women? _L74_]

[11 but in his handes, _A10_, _B_, _L74_, _O'F_, _P_: but's in's bands _S_: cut in bands _Grosart and Chambers_: writt in his hands _H-K_ (_teste Grosart_)]

[14 she's _A10_, _L74_, _P_, _H-K_ (_Grosart_): theyre _S_, _Chambers_

soe] if _A10_]

[17 ne're _A10_: neare _L74_]

_Song._

Deare Love, continue nice and chaste, For, if you yeeld you doe me wrong, Let duller wits to loves end haste, I have enough to wooe thee long.

All paine and joy is in their way; 5 The things we feare bring lesse annoy Then feare; and hope brings greater joy; But in themselves they cannot stay.

Small favours will my prayers increase; Granting my suit you give me all, 10 And then my prayers must needs surcease, For, I have made your Godhead fall.

Beasts cannot witt nor beauty see, They mans affections onely move; Beasts other sports of love doe prove, 15 With better feeling farre than we.

Then Love prolong my suite, for thus By losing sport, I sport doe win; And that may vertue prove in us, Which ever yet hath beene a sinne. 20

My comming neare may spie some ill, And now the world is given to scoffe; To keepe my Love, (then) keepe me off, And so I shall admire thee still.

Say I have made a perfect choyce, 25 Satietie our Love may kill; Then give me but thy face and voyce, Mine eye and eare thou canst not fill.

To make me rich (oh) be not poore, Give me not all, yet something lend, 30 So I shall still my suite commend, And you at will doe lesse or more. But, if to all you condescend, My love, our sport, your Godhead end.

[Song. _1635-69_: _no title_, _A10_, _B_, _HN_ (_signed_ J. R.), _L74_ (Finis. JR monogram), _O'F_, _P_, _S96_]

[1 Love,] Love _1635-69_]

[13 witt] will, _1635-54_]

[14 They, _1635-69_: Those _L74_]

[18 I sport] I sports _1635-54_]

[19 that may _A10_, _HN_, _L74_: that doth _1635-69_: let that _B_]

[26 Satietie] Sacietie _1635-39_, _L74_

Love _A10_, _B_, _HN_, _L74_, _S96_: selves _1635-69_]

[28 Mine _MSS._: My _1635-39_]

[32 you at will] at your will _S96_]

_To Ben. Iohnson_, 6 _Ian._ 1603.

The State and mens affaires are the best playes Next yours; 'Tis nor more nor lesse than due praise. Write, but touch not the much descending race Of Lords houses, so settled in worths place, As but themselves none thinke them usurpers. 5 It is no fault in thee to suffer theirs. If the Queene Masque, or King a hunting goe, Though all the Court follow, Let them. We know Like them in goodnesse that Court ne'r will be, For that were vertue, and not flatterie. 10 Forget we were thrust out; It is but thus, God threatens Kings, Kings Lords, as Lords doe us. Iudge of strangers, Trust and believe your friend, And so me; And when I true friendship end, With guilty conscience let me be worse stonge, 15 Then with _Pophams_ sentence theeves, or _Cookes_ tongue Traitors are. Friends are our selves. This I thee tell As to my friend, and to my selfe as Counsell; Let for a while the times unthrifty rout Contemne learning, and all your studies flout. 20 Let them scorne Hell, they will a Sergeant feare, More then wee _that_; ere long God may forbeare, But Creditors will not. Let them increase In riot and excesse as their meanes cease; Let them scorne him that made them, and still shun 25 His Grace, but love the whore who hath undone Them and their soules. But; that they that allow But one God, should have religions enow For the Queens Masque, and their husbands, far more Then all the Gentiles knew, or _Atlas_ bore! 30 Well, let all passe, and trust him who nor cracks The bruised Reed, nor quencheth smoaking flaxe.

[To Ben. Iohnson, 6 Ian. 1603. _1635-69_, _O'F_: To Ben Johnson 6 Jan: 1603 T.R. _B_: An Epistle to Ben Johnson. S^{r} J: R: _H40_: An Epistle to Beniamin Johnson. _RP31_: An Epistle: To M^{r} Ben. Johnson. Ja: 6: 1603 _L74_: To M^{r} Ben Johnson. _S_]

[2 yours; _Ed_: yours, _1635-69_

nor more] noe more _L74_]

[5 none thinke] none can thinke _1669_]

[11 out; _Ed_: out. _1635-69_]

[15 stonge, _L74_: _spelt_ stũg, _1635_]

[18 as Counsell;] is Counsell: _1635-54_]

[22 More then wee _that_; _Ed_: More then wee that _H40_, _L74_: More then wee them; that, _1635-69_ (them _in ital._ _1635-54_)]

[24 cease; _Ed_: cease, _1635-69_]

[28 enow _H40_, _L74_: enough _1635-69_]

[29 far _L74_: for _1635-69_, _H40_]

[30 bore! _Ed_: bore? _H40_: bore. _1635-69_, _L74_]

_To Ben. Iohnson_, 9. _Novembris_, 1603.

If great men wrong me, I will spare my selfe; If meane, I will spare them. I know that pelf Which is ill got the Owner doth upbraid. It may corrupt a Iudge, make me afraid And a Iury; But 'twill revenge in this, 5 That, though himselfe be judge, hee guilty is. What care I though of weaknesse men taxe me, I had rather sufferer than doer be. That I did trust, it was my Natures praise, For breach of word I knew but as a phrase. 10 That judgement is, that surely can comprise The world in precepts, most happy and most wise. What though? Though lesse, yet some of both have we, Who have learn'd it by use and misery. Poore I, whom every pety crosse doth trouble, 15 Who apprehend each hurt thats done me, double, Am of this (though it should sinke me) carelesse, It would but force me to a stricter goodnesse. They have great odds of me, who gaine doe winne, (If such gaine be not losse) from every sinne. 20 The standing of great mens lives would afford A pretty summe, if God would sell his Word. He cannot; they can theirs, and breake them too. How unlike they are that they are likened to? Yet I conclude, they are amidst my evils, 25 If good, like Gods, the naught are so like devils.

[To Ben Johnson, 9 Novembris, 1603: _1635-69_, _B_ (_subscribed_ doubtfull author), _O'F_, _S_: Another Epistle to M^{r} Ben: Johnson. No: 9. 1603. _L74_: Another to Ben Johnson. _H40_]

[2 them.] them, _1635-69_ that _B_, _H40_, _L74_, _S_: the _1635-69_]

[3 upbraide. _Ed_: upbraide; _1635-69_]

[5 Iury; _Ed_: Iury. _1635-69_]

[18 goodnesse.] goodnesse _1635-39_]

[19 odds _B_, _H40_, _L74_, _S_: gaine _1635-69_, _O'F_]

_To S^{r} Tho. Roe_ 1603.

_Deare Thom_:

Tell her if she to hired servants shew Dislike, before they take their leave they goe; When nobler spirits start at no disgrace, For who hath but one minde, hath but one face: If then why I tooke not my leave she aske, 5 Aske her againe why she did not unmaske? Was she or proud or cruell, or knew shee 'Twould make my losse more felt, and pittyed me? Or did she feare one kisse might stay for moe? Or else was she unwilling I should goe? 10 I thinke the best, and love so faithfully I cannot chuse but thinke that she loves mee. If this prove not my faith, then let her trie How in her service I would fructifie. Ladies have boldly lov'd; bid her renew 15 That decay'd worth, and prove the times past true. Then he whose wit and verse goes now so lame, With songs to her will the wild Irish tame. Howe'r, I'll weare the black and white ribband, White for her fortunes, blacke for mine shall stand. 20 I doe esteeme her favours, not their stuffe; If what I have was given, I have enough: And all's well; for had she lov'd, I had had All my friends hate; for now, departing sad I feele not that; Yet as the Rack the Gout 25 Cures, so hath _this_ worse griefe _that_ quite put out: My first disease nought but that worse cureth, Which (which I dare foresee) nought cures but death. Tell her all this before I am forgot, That not too late shee grieve shee lov'd me not. 30 Burden'd with this, I was to depart lesse Willing, then those which die, and not confesse.

[Footnote: To Sir Tho. Rowe, 1603. _1635-69_, _O'F_: An Elegie. To S^{r} Tho. Roe. _B_ (_subscribed J. R._), _L74_: An Elegie, complayning a want of complement in his mistrisse, at his leave-taking. _A10_: Elegia Vicesima Septima. To S^{r} Thomas Roe. 1603. _S_

_Thom_: _B_, _L74_, _O'F_,_S_: _Tom_: _1635-69_]

[5 tooke _A10_, _B_, _L74_, _O'F_, _S_: take _1635-69_]

[14 I would _1635-69_: it will _A10_, _L74_, _S_]

[17 goes now so _Ed_: goe now so _B_: growes now so _1635-69_, _O'F_: now goes thus _A10_, _L74_, _S_]

[21 favours, not their _B_, _L74_, _S_: favour, not the _1635-69_]

[22 enough: _Ed_: enough, _1635-69_]

[23 had had] had not had _1635-69_, _O'F_]

[24 hate;] hate _1635_: hate, _1639-69_

now, _Ed_: now _1635-69_: not _A10_, _B_, _L74_, _S_]

[26 out:] out. _1635_]

[28 Which (which I dare foresee) nought _A10_, _B_, _L74_, _S_: Which (I dare foresay) nothing _1635-69_]

[Willing, _Ed_: Willing _1635-69_: Willing; _A10_]

II.

_To the Countesse of Huntington._