These, marching softly, thus in order went. And after them the Monthes all riding came: First, sturdy March, with brows full sternly bent And armed strongly, rode upon a Ram, The same which over Hellespontus swam; Yet in his hand a spade he also hent, And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame,
Which on the earth he strowed as he went, [ment. And fild her womb with fruitfull hope of nourish-
Next came fresh Aprill, full of lustyhed, And wanton as a kid whose borne new buds: Upon a Bul! he rode, the same which led Europa floting through th' Argolick fluds: His hornes were gilden all with golden studs, And garnished with garlonds goodly dight Of all the fairest flowres and freshest buds Which th' earth brings forth; and wet he seem'd in sight [delight. With waves, through which he waded for his loves
Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground, Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde, And throwing flowres out of her lap around: Upon two brethrens shoulders she did ride, The Twinnes of Leda; which on eyther side Supported her like to their soveraine queene: Lord! how all creatures laught when her they spide, And leapt and daunc't as they had ravisht beene! And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.
And after her came iolly Iune, arrayd All in greene leaves, as he a player were; Yet in his time he wrought as well as playd, That by his plough-yrons mote right well appeare: Upon a Crab he rode, that him did beare With crooked crawling steps an uncouth pase, And backward yode, as bargemen wont to fare Bending their force contráry to their face; [grace. Like that ungracious crew which faines demurest
Then came hot Iuly boyling like to fire, That all his garments he had cast away: Upon a Lyon raging yet with ire
He boldly rode, and made him to obay: (It was the beast that whylome did forray The Némæan forrest, till th' Amphytrionide Him slew, and with his hide did him array :) Behinde his backe a sithe, and by his side Under his belt he bore a sickle circling wide.
The sixt was August, being rich arrayd In garment all of gold downe to the ground: Yet rode he not, but led a lovely mayd Forth by the lilly hand, the which was cround With eares of corne, and full her hand was found: That was the righteous Virgin, which of old Liv'd here on Earth, and plenty made abound; But, after wrong was lov'd and iustice solde, She left th' unrighteous world, and was to Heaven extold.
Next him September marched ecke on foote; Yet was he heavy laden with the spoyle Of harvests riches, which he made his boot, And him enricht with bounty of the soyle: In his one band, as fit for harvests toyle, He held a knife-hook; and in th' other hand A Paire of Waights, with which he did assoyle Both more and lesse, where it in doubt did stand, And equall gave to each as Iustice duly scann'd.
Then came October full of merry glee; For yet his noule was totty of the must, Which he was treading in the wine-fats see, And of the ioyous oyle, whose gentle gust Made him so frollick and so full of lust : Upon a dreadfull Scorpion he did ride, The same which by Dianaes doom uniust Slew great Orion; and eeke by his side He had his ploughing-share and coulter ready tyde.
Next was November; he full grosse and fat As fed with lard, and that right well might seeme; For he had been a fatting hogs of late, That yet his browes with sweat did reek and steem, And yet the season was full sharp and breem; In planting eeke he took no small delight: Whereon he rode, not easie was to deeme; For it a dreadfull Centaure was in sight, The seed of Saturne and faire Nais, Chiron hight. And after him came next the chill December: Yet he, through merry feasting which he made And great bonfires, did not the cold remember; His Saviours birth his mind so much did glad: Upon a shaggy-bearded Goat he rode, The same wherewith Dan love in tender yeares, They say, was nourisht by th' Iæan mayd; And in his hand a broad deepe bowle he beares, Of which he freely drinks an health to all his peeres.
Then came old lanuary, wrapped well In many weeds to keep the cold away; Yet did he quake and quiver like to quell, And blowe his nayles to warme them if he may; For they were numbd with holding all the day An hatchet keene, with which he felled wood And from the trees did lop the needlesse spray: Upon an huge great Earth-pot Steane he stood, From whose wide mouth there flowed forth the Ro mane flood.
And lastly came cold February, sitting In an old wagon, for he could not ride, Drawne of two Fishes for the season fitting, Which through the flood before did softly slyde And swim away; yet had he by his side His plough and harnesse fit to till the ground, And tooles to prune the trees, before the pride Of hasting Prime did make them burgein round. So past the twelve Months forth, and their dew places found.
And after these there came the Day and Night, Riding together both with equall pase; Th' one on a palfrey blacke, the other white: But Night had covered her uncomely face With a blacke veile, and held in hand a mace, On top whereof the Moon and stars were pight, And Sleep and Darknesse round about did trace: But Day did beare upon his scepters hight The goodly Sun encompast all with beamës bright. Then came the Howres, faire daughters of high love And timely Night; the which were all endewed With wondrous beauty fit to kindle love; But they were virgins all, and love eschewed That might forslack the charge to them foreshewed By mighty love; who did them porters make Of Heavens gate (whence all the gods issued) Which they did dayly watch, and nightly wake By even turnes, ne ever did their charge forsake,
And after all came Life; and lastly Death:- Death with most grim and grisly visage seene, Yet is he nought but parting of the breath; Ne ought to see, but like a shade to weene, Unbodied, unsoul'd, unheard, unseene: But Life was like a faire young lusty boy, Such as they faine Dan Cupid to have beene, Full of delightfull health and lively ioy, [ploy. Deckt all with flowres and wings of gold fit to em-
When these were past, thus gan the Titanesse ; "Lo! mighty mother, now be indge, and say Whether in all thy creatures more or lesse Change doth not raign and bear the greatest sway: For who sees not that Time on all doth pray? But times do change and move continually:' So nothing here long standeth in one stay: Wherefore this lower world who can deny But to be subiect still to Mutabilitie!"
Then thus gan love; "Right true it is that these And all things else that under Heaven dwell Are chaung'd of Time, who doth them all disseise Of being but who is it (to me tell) That Time himselfe doth move and still compell To keepe his course? Is not that namely wee, Which poure that vertue from our heavenly cell That moves them all, and makes them changed be? So them we gods doe rule, and in them also thee."
To whom thus Mutability; "The things, Which we see not how they are mov'd and swayd, Ye may attribute to yourselves as kings, And say, they by your secret power are made: But what we see not, who shall us perswade? But were they so, as ye them faine to be, Mov'd by your might, and ordered by your ayde, Yet what if I can prove, that even yee [mee? Yourselves are likewise chang'd, and subiect unto
"And first, concerning her that is the first, Even you, faire Cynthia; whom so much ye make loves dearest darling, she was bred and nurst On Cynthus hill, whence she her name did take; Then is she mortall borne, howso ye crake: Besides, her face and countenance every day We changed see and sundry forms partake, [gray: Now hornd, now round, now bright, now brown and So that as changefull as the Moone men use to say.
"Next Mercury; who though he lesse appeare To change his hew, and alwayes seeme as one; Yet he his course doth alter every yeare, And is of late far out of order gone : So Venus eeke, that goodly paragone, Though faire all night, yet is she darke all day: And Phoebus self, who lightsome is alone, Yet is he oft eclipsed by the way,
And fills the darkned world with terror and dismay.
"Now Mars, that valiant man, is changed most; For he sometimes so far runs out of square, That he his way doth seem quite to have lost, And cleane without his usuall sphere to fare; That even these star-gazers stonisht are At sight thereof, and damne their lying bookes: So likewise grim sir Saturne oft doth spare His sterne aspect, and calme his crabbed lookes: So many turning cranks these have, so many crookes.
"But you, Dan Iove, that only constant are, And king of all the rest, as ye do clame, Are you not subject eeke to this misfare? Then let me aske you this withouten blame; Where were ye borne? some say in Crete by name, Others in Thebes, and others otherwhere; But, wheresoever they comment the same, They all consent that ye begotten were [peare. And borne here in this world; ne other can ap-
"Then are ye mortall borne, and thrall to me; Unlesse the kingdome of the sky yee make Immortall and unchangeable to be: Besides, that power and vertue, which ye spake, That ye here worke, doth many changes take, Aud your owne natures change: for each of you, That vertue have or this or that to make, Is checkt and changed from his nature trew, By others opposition or obliquid view.
"Besides, the sundry motions of your spheres, So sundry waies and fashions as clerkes faine, Some in short space, and some in longer yeares; What is the same but alteration plaine? Onely the starrie skie doth still remaine: Yet do the starres and signes therein still move, And even itself is moved, as wizards saine: But all that moveth doth mutation love: Therefore both you and them to me I subiect prove.
"Then since within this wide great universe Nothing doth firme and permanent appeare, But all things tost and turned by transverse; What then should let, but I aloft should reare My trophee, and from all the triumph beare? Now iudge then, O thou greatest goddessè trew, According as thyselfe doest see and heare, And unto me addoom that is my dew; That is, the rule of all; all being rul❜d by you."
So having ended, silence long ensewed; Ne Nature to or fro spake for a space, But with firme eyes affixt the ground still viewed. Meane while all creatures, looking in her face, Expecting th' end of this so doubtfull case, Did hang in long suspence what would ensew, To whether side should fall the soveraigne place: At length she, looking up with chearefull view, [few: The silence brake, and gave her doome in speeches
"I well consider all that ye have sayd; And find that all things stedfastnes doe hate And changed be; yet, being rightly wayd, They are not changed from their first estate; But by their change their being doe dilate; And, turning to themselves at length againe, Doe worke their owne perfection so by fate: Then over them Change doth not rule and raigne; But they raigne over Change, and doe their states maintaine.
"Cease therefore, daughter, further to aspire, And thee content thus to be rul'd by me: For thy decay thou seekst by thy desire: But time shall come that all shall changed bee, And from thenceforth none no more change shall So was the Titaness put downe and whist, [see!" And love confirm'd in his imperiall see. Then was that whole assembly quite dismist, And Natures selfe did vanish, whither no man wist.
WHEN I bethinke me on that speech whyleare Of Mutability, and well it way;
Me seemes, that though she all unworthy were Of the Heav'ns rule; yet, very sooth to say, In all things else she bears the greatest sway: Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle, And love of things so vaine to cast away;
Whose flowring pride, so fading and so fickle, Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming sickle!
Then gin I thinke on that which Nature sayd, Of that same time when no more change shall be, But stedfast rest of all things, firmely stayd Upon the pillours of Eternity,
That is contrayr to Mutabilitie :
For all that moveth doth in change delight: But thenceforth all shall rest eternally With him that is the God of Sabaoth hight: O! that great Sabaoth God, grant me that sabbaths sight!
MOST brave and bountifull la: for so excellent favours as I have received at your sweet handes, to offer these fewe leaves as in recompence, should be as to offer flowers to the gods for their divine benefites. Therefore I have determined to give my selfe wholy to you, as quite abandoned from my selfe, and'absolutely vowed to your services: which in all right is ever held for full recompence of debt or damage, to have the person yeelded. My person I wot wel how little worth it is. But the faithfull minde & humble zeale which I bear unto your la: may perhaps be more of price, as may please you to account and use the poore service therof; which taketh glory to advance your excellent partes and noble vertues, and to spend it selfe in honouring you; not so much for your great bounty to my self, which yet may not be unminded; nor for name or kindreds sake by you vouchsafed; being also regardable; as for that honorable name, which yee have by your brave deserts purchast to your selfe, and spred in the mouths of all men: with which I have also presumed to grace my verses; and, under your name, to commend to the world this small poëme. The which beseeching your la: to take in worth, & of all things therin according to your wonted graciousnes to make a milde construction, I humbly pray for your happines.
I SING of deadly' dolorous debate, Stir'd up through wrathfull Nemesis despight, Betwixt two mightie ones of great estate, Drawne into armes, and proofe of mortall fight, Through prowd ambition and hart-swelling hate, Whilst neither could the others greater might And sdeignfull scorne endure; that from small iarre Their wraths at length broke into open warre.
The roote whereof and tragicall effect, Vouchsafe, O thou the mournfulst Muse of nyne, That wont'st the tragick stage for to direct, In funerall complaints and wailefall tyne, Reveale to me, and all the meanes detect, Through which sad Clarion did at last decline To lowest wretchednes: and is there then Such rancour in the harts of mightie men?
Of all the race of silver-winged flies Which doe possesse the empire of the aire, Betwixt the centred Earth, and azure skies, Was none more favourable, nor more faire, Whilst Heaven did favour his felicities, Of Muscaroll, and in his fathers sight Then Clarion, the eldest sonne and heire Of all alive did seeme the fairest wight.
With fruitfull hope his aged breast he fed Of future good, which his young toward yeares, Full of brave courage and bold hardyhed Above th' ensample of his equall peares, Did largely promise, and to him fore-red, (Whilst oft his heart did melt in tender teares) That he in time would sure prove such an one, As should be worthie of his fathers throne.
The fresh young flie, in whom the kindly fire of lustfull yongth began to kindle fast,
Did much disdaine to subiect his desire To loathsome sloth, or houres in ease to wast, But ioy'd to range abroad in fresh attire, Through the wide compas of the ayrie coast; And, with unwearied wings, each part t' inquire Of the wide rule of his renowmed sire.
« ZurückWeiter » |